Prayer on Marshmallow Ranch

Learn to Dance in the Rain

Mon, 07 Apr 2025 01:30:00 -0600

”Learn to Dance in the Rain” - AI by Ginny McKinney with Meta AI

Darlings…what a weekend! It has rained about 4.5” since Friday. The ground is so wet that when you walk across the yard, it’s like a bog. Squish…Squish…Squish. There is so much water in the pool, it’s pouring out the overflow. The creeks are roaring. But there’s no water coming into the basement. Ever since we started putting the root killer down the storm drain, it hasn’t overflowed. It came close Saturday night, but we put the crystals in and within twenty-four hours the water level was down two inches. We just have to be vigilant and use it regularly.

The water in the drain is not the only thing going down. I made the awful mistake of looking at my retirement fund last night. Here’s a helpful tip…DO NOT DO THAT! At first my heart sank. Knowing it is likely to fall more today is disconcerting. As hard as that is to take, I know God has always taken care of us and we are more precious than the birds in the fields. I know it’s hard not to worry, it really is. But last night, I just sat with God and told Him I put my life in His hands twenty-one years ago. I’m not backing out when the going gets tough.

Like most people, we are looking at more ways to cut our expenses. I think satellite is out. We’ll soon have fiber optic internet here. Once that is installed, we can drop the DSL line and stream what we can get online. I’ve cut out extra spending. We only buy what is necessary these days. I know we are taking this trip to the beach, but it’s already paid for as is my flight to Colorado this summer.

It is a good thing we don’t eat much meat anymore. We are going to make some raised beds for greens to add to our diet. I bake all of our bread. We don’t eat much dairy but I do keep powdered milk and canned evaporated milk in the pantry. I grew up making do with what we had. Yes…I have been terribly “advantaged” in my adult life. But, I’ve been studying and practicing homesteading and survival skills for a very long time.

We are heading into lean times, I’m afraid. And I’m not telling you all of this to worry you or scare you. I look at paring down to the bare essentials as more like a game to see how little we need to get by.

Happiness is most often mind over matter.

If you don’t mind…it don’t matter.

Do what you can with what you have.

Use it up, wear it out, make it do, or do without.

Start small.

Slow and steady wins the race.

Pray about it. Pray over it. Pray through it.

And remember…the pendulum always swings back.

🩵🌷🙏🏼🌷🩵

““Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” ‭‭Matthew‬ ‭6‬:‭19‬-‭21‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Gratitude Journal 
Today I am grateful for my humble upbringing with a grandma who taught me how to make do. I am grateful that I have a Heavenly Father who wants us to prosper and who will take care of us.

Prayer Works

Mon, 03 Mar 2025 02:30:00 -0600

I finally had some quiet time here at the house with Mr. FixIt at bowling. First, I tore my closet apart looking for those things. Then I decided to go to the source. I put on some soft meditation music, closed my eyes, and asked the Holy Spirit to help me find my lost hard drives. I sat quietly, breathing deeply, clearing my mind.

I kid you not, I opened my eyes and walked right to them! And here’s the kicker…they were on the desk in the office! I have looked in the office countless times. I’ve even moved this bag to the side…more than once. I simply could not see them. I immediate said a prayer of thanksgiving. I was so excited.

I picked up the biggest hard drive, plugged it into my laptop, opened the tax program, and voila! The program found our 2023 tax return and populated the 2024 forms in 30 seconds. Now all I have to do is plug in the numbers and we’re off to the races! This is how God works in our lives. He loves for us to come to him with all our problems, no matter the size or importance. He’s so, so good to us!

Other than cleaning up my mess from tearing the bedroom apart, I really didn’t accomplish much more than that. I enjoyed watching some how-to videos on YouTube. I FaceTimed with the girls, texted with Big and Little, and called my brother. I missed a call from my sister-in-law but we’ll talk today sometime. Sunday evening is when I catch up with family. I always called my mom on Sunday evenings. This is such a nice way to carry on that tradition.

It’s been pretty cold again here. I actually might get to sleep in the camper on Wednesday night for the first time this year! I love sleeping out there. I can hear the night sounds all around and feel the breeze. It’s the closest I will get to sleeping outside under the stars. I tried to sleep outside once, but there was a constant breeze and I could not settle down. Well, that and the fact that it was in my backyard in the Rockies and there’s coyotes, mountain lions, and bears out there! I know this because I slept in Little TOW-Wanda in front of my house the first summer after Mr. Virgo died. I woke up to a low growl, peeked out the window, and there was a mountain lion right below me. I quietly closed the window and went back to sleep. I know a bear can break into a camper, but at least I’d have some metal between me and the beasties!

Today is knitting group and I’m looking forward to that. I found a couple little cross stitch kits I saved from my shop. I think I’ll start one. And, I can’t tell you how relieved I am to have these hard drives back. One less thing, right? Hope you had a nice weekend!

☘️

“these are the things God has revealed to us by his Spirit. The Spirit searches all things, even the deep things of God. For who knows a person’s thoughts except their own spirit within them? In the same way no one knows the thoughts of God except the Spirit of God.” ‭‭1 Corinthians‬ ‭2‬:‭10‬-‭11‬ ‭NIV‬‬

***Gratitude Journal***   Today I am grateful for the quiet time I spend with God, seeking guidance and listening for the Holy Spirit. Even in the little things.

A Portent of Spring

Wed, 26 Feb 2025 02:30:00 -0600

I awoke at about 3:30 yesterday morning to the sound of rain on the tin roof at Grandma’s house. Oh, that sound instantly takes me back to my childhood. We used to go to The Farm nearly every weekend when I was growing up. Unless my cousins were there to play with, my Bubby and I kept each other company. My brother has Cerebral Palsy and he couldn’t play like me. He and I sat on the floor with our feet touching making a diamond with our legs. We rolled a ball back and forth between us. Or we played with toy trucks. When we got older, Uncle Bob taught us how to play checkers.

When my Bubby was too tired to play, I headed outside for hours. Hunting for bugs and turtles and old bird nests. Maybe a snakeskin…or pollywogs in the puddles to keep in a jar. I was definitely a tomboy. This yard and crick kept us busy and taught us to appreciate nature. I took science and biology very seriously when I was in school. I’ve always been fascinated in how things worked. The skills I gained from that served me well all my life.

Once I had breakfast, I made my RYZE Mushroom Coffee and went out on the front porch to bask in the sun. It was 68° yesterday afternoon! OMGosh! It was heavenly sitting out there with the sunshine on my face! I decided to clean a little and get packed up. I wanted to get back to my sweetheart!

I received good news yesterday. First, Daughter #2 was feeling a bit better by late afternoon. They’re talking about sending her home on oxygen for a little while. I also heard from Hubby #2. His numbers are improving and kidney seems to be doing a good job. Both wonderful things and the answers to many prayers!

💜

“Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours.” ‭‭Mark‬ ‭11‬:‭24‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Gratitude Journal 
Today I am grateful my daughter is improving, as is her dad. These are prayers answered! Thank you to all who have been praying for them both.

Sunday Evening Prayer Circle

Mon, 17 Feb 2025 02:30:00 -0600

Pray for the widows, widowers, and children who have lost their precious family members. Theirs is a difficult path and it’s so easy to lose hope and feel alone.

Please pray for those in the path of storms, flooding, and landslides across the country.

Please pray for AS, DS, and family. He had a heart transplant last summer and now needs a kidney transplant. Lord, bring a donor for AS and restore his health. He has so much more to give.

Please pray for Debbie’s sister as she awaits the call that she has a donor kidney. Please pray for all who are awaiting donor organs. And for the families whose loved ones made the choice to donate for life.

Please pray for my friend, Mike. He is being treated for metastatic melanoma and needs all the prayers he can get. He has faith that God will get him through this.

Prayers going up for my dear friend Gail’s dad. He’s been given a serious diagnosis and could use your prayers for complete healing and all of the coordination that will need to be covered in the coming weeks and months. And for her mother who continues to need extra care.

Prayers for my dear friends JP, R&JO, and other unspoken prayer requests.

Prayers for our friend, Lisa T. as she is in Hospice care. Lisa was my first school chum and the minister who performed our wedding ceremony. Please pray for her and her family and friends.

Please pray for Gala, Wendy, Melissa Mihal, and others who have cancer or other life-threatening diseases. Prayers for complete healing and all of the coordination that will need to be covered in the coming weeks and months.

Please pray for the following:

Matt Crawford, my dear friend Gail's cousin. He was recently diagnosed with cancer and has been transferred to hospice.

Alpine, Kelly, Jeannie, Lisa’s family as they lost their mom

Diane’s son and sister-in-law

Tom M. as he continues recovery from surgery

Jeremy

Bea

Don and Jackie

Jim and Linda

Wendy and Johnny

Melanie

Pam and her dad

Carmen

Kelly

Gala

The family of our friend Melissa Mihal who recently passed from cancer.

Please pray for Gala, Wendy, and others who have cancer or other life-threatening diseases for complete healing.

Please feel free to add your own prayers in the comments so we can pray for you, as well.

“Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours.”

‭‭Mark‬ ‭11‬:‭24‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Sunday Evening Prayer Circle

Mon, 10 Feb 2025 02:30:00 -0600

I’m sorry I’m late…that Super Bowl game distracted me!

Watch over the hostages in Gaza as they continue to be released to return to their loved ones. Comfort the families of those whose loved ones won’t be coming home.

Please pray for all affected by the aftermath of the fires in California. The floods in Western North Carolina. The destruction is unimaginable. Pray for the families of those lost in the recent plane crashes.

Please pray for Al and Debi. Al had a heart transplant last summer and now needs a kidney transplant. Lord, bring a donor for Al and restore his health. He has so much more to give.

Please pray for my dear friend, Mike. He was diagnosed with metastatic melanoma and needs all the prayers he can get. They have a treatment plan and he has faith that God will get them through this.

Prayers for my dear friends JP, R&JO, Jan and other unspoken prayer requests.

Prayers for our friend, Lisa T. as she is in Hospice care. Lisa was my first school chum and the minister that performed our wedding ceremony. Please pray for her and her family and friends.

Prayers for those affected by natural disasters, war, drought, pestilence, and famine.

Please pray for the following:

Alpine, Kelly, Jeannie, Lisa’s family as they lost their mom.

Diane’s son and sister-in-law.

Tom M. as he continues recovery from surgery.

Jeremy.

Bea.

Don and Jackie

Jim and Linda

Wendy and Johnny

Melanie

Pam and her dad

Carmen

Kelly

Please feel free to add your own prayers in the comments so we can pray for you, as well.

“Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours.”

‭‭Mark‬ ‭11‬:‭24‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Please pray for Gala, Wendy, Melissa Mihal, and others who have cancer or other life-threatening diseases. prayers for complete healing and all of the coordination that will need to be covered in the coming weeks and months. amily and friends.

Still Snowing!!!

Sat, 11 Jan 2025 02:30:00 -0600

Just a quick check in. I ran to town and got my cap cemented back on my front tooth so I’m back in business. It didn’t start snowing till a couple of hours after I got home. We were eating a late lunch when a young man knocked on the door. His car had slid off the road into our yard and he wanted to know if we could help him. Mr. FixIt got the tow strap and pulled him back up on the road into our but not before he schooled the young man a little. This is a very, very narrow road and there’s a blind curve out by the end of the near field. People seem to think it’s ok to just pull into our yard to let the oncoming car pass instead of backing up a little bit to a wider spot in the road. If there’s any snow, they’re just sucked right off the road. It happens at least once every winter and sometimes it damages the field carving deep ruts that are difficult to mow over. The young man was most appreciative and apologized profusely. He was a nice kid.

The snow is still coming down and we’re supposed to get another 2-4”. That’s fine. This is big stuff here. It’s any Friday in Colorado from October to May!

Today will be another hygge home day. Hope you’re staying cozy this weekend.

Please continue to pray for the people of California. We were watching the news last night and I heard of a man who refused to leave his son who has cerebral palsy and is immobile. That broke me and just cried. My brother has cerebral palsy and if he was stuck and couldn’t get out, I’d totally stay by his side and hold him into Heaven.

😢

#california #californiafires #dentist #snow

Father’s Day was Mr. FixIt’s Day

Mon, 17 Jun 2024 01:30:00 -0600

We knew yesterday was going to be a scorcher. Since we both worked hard on Saturday, and we had the family cookout in the evening, we both figured we deserved a day of rest. And rest, we did. French Toast for breakfast followed by a lot of time in the Big Red Chairs was the order of the day. The kids all called their dad for Father’s Day, which is always welcome. We nibbled through the day and had leftovers from the party for supper, followed by the last of the brownies and homemade ice cream. I gave Mr. FixIt a big container of Atomic Fireballs and an Ancestry DNA kit for Father’s Day. They don’t make Atomic Fireballs anymore and I had to scour the world to get him some!

We spent time in the pool when the “feels like” temperature outside hit 111°! It was 84 degrees in the house. We don’t run the whole house air conditioner because it makes no sense to cool rooms we aren’t in. We have a series of fans running that keep things at some semblance of comfort. We will resort to the AC this week, though. It’s going to be brutal for the next couple of weeks.

While Mr. FixIt snoozed in his recliner, I spent the afternoon leaning out the inbox of him email account. I have always had a very bad habit of not deleting emails when I’ve read them. Between that and spam, I’ve accumulated nearly 65,000 unread emails! So, whenever I want to just veg out and not think about anything…which is rare…I sit down with my laptop and use the “sweep” function in Outlook and get rid of a lot of baggage. I always feel a little better after I clean out 5-6K emails.

We leave on our trip a week from Thursday and there’s still a lot to get done before we go. My list is long, but I’m checking off things every day. I had great visions of getting the curtains made before we leave, but now I’m not so sure that will make the cut. I have to set priorities at this point. On the other hand, sitting at my sewing table in the cool basement may not be such a bad thing. We’ll see. When it gets hot like this, I kinda lose my mojo. lol

Oh, yesterday, I posted a picture of our sweet little grand-puppy, Cooper. I meant to explain who this good boy was, and it escaped me. Cooper came to our cookout Saturday night and it was the first time I’ve seen him. He’s a five month old English Golden Retriever. Once he got over all the excitement of the new people and smells, he was just happy as a clam up on the deck with us. He eyed the pool, but he didn’t jump in!

I hope you all are staying cool and safe. Stay hydrated, my friends…and take frequent breaks if you need to be out in the heat. Nothing needs to be done that badly that you make yourselves sick over it.

I didn’t get a Prayer Circle posted last night, but if you could please keep my lifelong friend Sharon and her family in your prayers. She has been critically ill the past week so this coming week is going to be filled with challenges. Thank you for always being here and offering prayers when I come to you with requests. You have no idea what you all mean to me.

☀️

“While the earth remains, seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, day and night, shall not cease.””
Genesis 8:22 ESV

Patience is a Virtue

Wed, 15 May 2024 01:30:00 -0600

Ever since I was a little kid, I’ve been impatient. I couldn’t wait for Christmas and I had to look for presents. I couldn’t wait for the Easter Bunny, or my birthday, or anything else that might have a happy ending. So, after Mr. FixIt and I voted yesterday, I asked if he would care if I went camping a day early. He is so accommodating and of course he didn’t mind. So I had the camper hooked up and ready to go in an hour or two! I was so excited to see Gail and we chatted for a half hour or so then we both turned into pumpkins and had to say goodnight. I’ll get to camp here till Saturday so there’s plenty of time to visit.

I soaked those vintage tablecloths in the Retro Clean solution for twenty-four hours then ran them through another wash and it’s amazing how well it worked. Almost all the stains came out and they’re so much brighter looking. I dried them, folded them carefully, and brought them with me to make some curtains while I’m here.

There is a symphony here in the woods. The frogs are calling like crazy. I saw a huge pileated woodpecker on my way up here. It was working on a rotted tree stump and looked all the world like Woody Woodpecker. I love my drive here as I follow the Ohio River the whole way. River boats and pleasure boat, fishermen floating along the banks hoping to get a mess for a fish fry. It’s the perfect time of the year to camp. Comfortably warm days with comfortably cool nights. Even though rain is in the forecast, it’s still a great place to be.

The site I had reserved for Wednesday to Saturday was taken last night so I had to rent the one next to it. My site will open up today and I’ll just pull down one space and then I can set up the camper and unhook.

I received news on my way up here that my brother had to make another trip to the ER yesterday with a rapid heart rate. All his tests were negative so they sent him home, but he needs to drink more fluids. Please keep him in your prayers that he will drink more water so he won’t keep getting these wonky heart rhythms. Gail suggested they get him one of those machines that make sparkling water with flavors in it. I think that would really help him so I’ll check on that today. Bless his heart…he’s just aging so quickly and it hurts.

🩵

“Dear friend, I pray that you may enjoy good health and that all may go well with you, even as your soul is getting along well.”
3 John 1:2 NIV

A Terrible Loss

Sun, 10 Mar 2024 01:30:00 -0600

We were young and in love…the first love for each of us. We got married young and I moved to England where my first husband was stationed in the Air Force. A year later, we had our only child together…my “sweet little pink bundle,” as my mom called her. Time went on, and as can happen when you marry young, our relationship didn’t last. We went our separate ways and a few years later, we each remarried.

Hubby #1 and his new wife had a baby of their own…a little boy. Bright and spunky with a million questions, Daughter #1 was smitten with her little brother. He arrived the summer she turned thirteen and she always looked forward to seeing him when she visited her father. He became a good caricaturist and drew magical creatures and anime characters. He never married and found a career at the local Kroger Store. He rode his bike all over town. On his dad’s last birthday, he bought him a book of “Dad Jokes” that ended up as daily posts on Facebook for all to enjoy. He had a kind heart and always looked for the good in people.

I received a text Friday afternoon from Hubby #1 that broke my heart. His son..that gentle giant of a man…died unexpectedly of genetic cardiac disease at his home. They found him there when he hadn’t shown up for work. Everyone is crushed. Even with all my years as a sort of “grief mentor,” I was at a loss for words. A snatch death is so shocking. They’re there…then they aren’t. But when it’s your child? What can you say? There are no words that can offer comfort or change things.

We are tempted to TRY to change things and make them better when someone we love is hurting. There are things we can do. It’s customary to bring food to the home of the bereaved. But when you live far away, there is still a way to contribute. How about “grief groceries?” You can go online and order some things and have them delivered to them. I’ll do that down the road…they have plenty now.

It has always been my belief that if divorce comes to you, there are choices you can make. You can remain bitter enemies and hate each other forever. You can drop out of each other’s lives and never have any contact. If there was abuse in the marriage, often both of those choices go hand-in-hand. In our case, my relationship with my first husband kinda went through both of those phases till I matured and remembered there was a reason we married in the first place. We share a child and grandchildren. I was determined that just because we were no longer married to each other, it didn’t mean we couldn’t still love and respect each other.

I’ve made it a point to remain in contact, befriending his wife, and loving this son of another mother. It’s much better for the kids and grandkids to keep them from feeling they need to choose between us. Love trumps hate…always.

This is the cover photo on Eddy’s FB page. He was always an encourager.

My continued prayers go out to my first husband and his wife. And to everyone who knew and loved Eddy. May his memory forever be a comfort.

🙏🏼

”So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.“
Isaiah 41:10 NIV

#loss, #grief, #comfort

Too Much Stimuli

Thu, 29 Feb 2024 02:30:00 -0600

Ever since Covid started and we became sequestered in our homes, I’ve become far more sensitive to stimuli. Excess noises, bustling activity, too many things happening at once and I need a little quiet time to regroup. This didn’t bother me in my earlier working years. I mainly worked in hospitals and medical offices. At one point I had my needlework shop and that was busy. I was the “downtown shop girl” in Glenwood Springs. I worked one day a week in three different shops so my mind had to be nimble.

I’m not saying I’ve become “too old to cut the mustard” but time and solitude has changed my ability to tolerate chaos with any regularity. Mr. FixIt and I left the house yesterday morning at a little after 8:00. It was storming…the wind was blowing, thunder was crashing all around, and the rain was coming down in sheets. I drove carefully over to the doctor’s office in Belpre and we found our seats in a crowded waiting room.

The TV on the wall to my left was just loud enough that I could hear, but not loud enough to make out the words. There was music coming from the speakers in the ceiling. A little toddler was sitting with his dad babbling his sweet baby language and watching a cartoon on a phone. The man on the other side of Mr. FixIt was watching a video documentary about Taylor Swift on HIS phone. I sat with my book open on my lap willing myself to block out the cacophony around me.

It was almost an hour before they called us into the office, and another fifteen minutes before the PA came in. I had an appointment at 11:00 and I kept glancing at the clock, hoping I wouldn’t have to cancel my appointment at the last minute. Fortunately, we got out of there in plenty of time. When we pulled out of the parking lot, there was a car on fire in the entry to the Emergency Room. Now…THAT person was having a bad day!

I dropped Mr. FixIt off at the mall to walk some laps and went to my appointment nearby. I never have to wait long, but this time it was twenty-five minutes before I was called back. I’m sure you all know, but Medicare provides us a free annual physical. My PCP is very thorough and I wasn’t out of there till 12:30. I am happy to say I’m in excellent health! She was very please with my progress.

By the time I picked up my sweetie at the mall, we were both beyond hungry so we went to our favorite diner for lunch. Afterward, we stopped at Mrs. FixIt 1.0’s house and visited with her and my WV daughter who had one of our little great grandsons with her so that was delightful! He is such a sweet little guy!

Yesterday was Big’s 20th Birthday!!! We got to visit via video chat. Swim season is over and she is enjoying a little down time…if you can call carrying all those college classes “down time.” I can’t believe she is twenty years old!!! It wasn’t that long ago she was this little sweet pea that went to the book store and shopping for shoes with me. Her very first sentence was “Shopping for shoes!” What an amazing young woman she is.

We stopped for a couple of things at the grocery store and headed home and I was never so glad to snuggle into my Big Red Chair and pick up my knitting. I had a nice little break from the keyboard the last couple of days and I’m fresh and ready to get back in the game. I still want to get over to the farm for a few days pretty soon, but we have some things to take care of around here first.

It’s Leap Day!!!

If you were born on February 29th…then, HAPPY BIRTHDAY! You’re a lot younger than your contemporaries! Oh, and by the way…there are daffodils blooming in Parkersburg! It was 69° yesterday morning when I woke up…and, it was 42° by the time we got home. There’s an awful lot of wicked weather out there…fires, tornadoes, snow, rain, flooding. It’s crazy…be careful out there!

I hope you all are doing well. Please say an extra pray for one of my dearest friends. They had a death in the family, then at the dinner after, her nephew had a stroke. What a horrifying sequence of events! Please keep him and his family in your prayers.

🩵

”And the prayer offered in faith will make the sick person well; the Lord will raise them up. If they have sinned, they will be forgiven. Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous person is powerful and effective.“
James 5:15-16

#Healthy, #Prayers, #LeapDay

A Nerve Wracking Day

Thu, 08 Feb 2024 02:30:00 -0600

I was thrilled that Mr. FixIt felt much better when he woke up yesterday. I fixed him his favorite breakfast…a big steaming bowl of creamy grits and eggs. The sun was shining and it was beautiful day.

Someone I love very much was having surgery yesterday and I sat on pins and needles till I heard everything went well and they were in their room having lunch.

While I was waiting to hear about my friend, I received a phone call about someone else I love very much. They were on the way to the hospital via ambulance and it didn’t look good. Extremely high pulse, extremely low BP, chest pain, nausea and vomiting. I was scared.

I spent the day waiting to hear word and finally at the end of the day we heard the doctors were admitting them to the hospital. He was stabile and they’ll watch him overnight and do more tests today.

So, here I am…sitting here relieved and thanking God for prayers answered and praying for the future of these two loved ones. And in the meantime, Big is preparing to swim in an important meet this weekend. Her parents get to be there to watch and I get to see it on the computer.

We never know what a day will bring, do we? We have plans. We expect things to go to plan. And when things don’t go to plan, we have to remind ourselves who’s really pulling the strings here. Wasn’t it John Lennon who said life is what happens when we’re making other plans? I’ve also heard folks say we make our plans and God laughs and laughs.

The thing is, we really DON’T know. We plan and we hope but if we become too heavily invested in certain outcomes we become rigid and inflexible. Take the rained out wedding. The bride can be so heavily invested in her storybook day being perfect that she misses the chance to dance in the rain or take pictures with a rainbow.

I’m grateful for the way the day turned out.

🩵

”For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.“
Jeremiah 29:11 NIV

Rain, Rain, Rain!

Wed, 10 Jan 2024 02:30:00 -0600

I kept waking up during the night to the sound of rain on the tarp covering the air conditioner outside the bedroom window. I thought we might wake up to some snow, but it continued to rain all day. Those prayers I asked for last night helped. My brother was in the ER Monday night with flu symptoms and I was so worried about him. All of the tests they did on him were normal so they sent him back home. I did get a chance to speak with him for a few minutes when he was getting ready for bed. I was relieved to hear his voice, even though he sounded exhausted.

I contacted someone I’ve known for decades and asked if she could help my brother with some adapted electronics so we can FaceTime each other. Her daughter was injured in a skiing accident when she was five years old. Alice has dedicated her life to helping disabled people with technology to improve their lives. I’m looking forward to being able to visit with him more often. I think it will help both of us. With the weather as it is, and money being tight, I can’t get to Colorado to see him for a little while.

I spent the day crocheting a mesh market bag. We were keeping tabs on someone special who had surgery yesterday and were so relieved to hear she came through the surgery ok. That is the other person I asked for you to pray for. So thank you all so much for those prayers. They were most appreciated.

I put a pork roast in the oven mid afternoon and cooked it whole instead of cutting it up in chunks. I realized it would cook differently and when I was ready to serve supper, it wasn’t nearly done. We ended up having some leftovers and we’ll try again today. We’re supposed to get a lot more rain and some wind today so I’m blessed with another day to stay home and work on some projects. We actually saw some sunshine yesterday! What a treat!!!

❄️

”A joyful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones.“
Proverbs 17:22 ESV

The Queen of Football!

Tue, 09 Jan 2024 02:30:00 -0600

I told you my WV family has a just-for-fun competition to guess who will win each college Bowl game. In case there is a tie, you have to choose who will play in and win the Championship Game and what the total score will be. We all share playful banter in a family chat room during the season and celebrate each other as we share our wins and losses. Well, guess what….much to my amazement…I WON! This year, the coveted Football Head trophy will live at our house till next year’s bowl games. It was SO much fun playing with this crazy family I stumbled into. I love these people!

We had knitting group yesterday morning and we had the usual attendees. It’s always fun. I finally found a small table I can use for the knitting machines. It’s the perfect size and it was only $25. I still haven’t received the 22-needle machine I ordered in early December. If it doesn’t arrive tomorrow, I can request a refund on Wednesday. I’m really disappointed. One of the gals in our knitting group ordered hers the week after I did and received it last week. I know…first world problems. But when you order something and you pay your hard-earned money, you expect to get what you ordered in a timely fashion. Maybe it was on one of those cargo ships that have been attacked in the Suez Canal? Who knows?

We’ve lost three classmates in the last couple of weeks. I have a few people who need big prayers today. God knows who they are and what they need, but I would truly appreciate it if you would keep them in your prayers. They mean so much to me.

I didn’t get a lot of needlework done yesterday. I worked on two projects…a Tote of Many Colors and a net produce bag. I thought I’d clean my knitting machine last evening but it didn’t work well afterwards. I think I was too tired and got frustrated so I gave it up for the evening and came upstairs to watch the Michigan-Washington game. I’m hoping I don’t need to go anywhere the rest of the week and I can get some things done around here.

❄️

”The Lord is near to all who call on him, to all who call on him in truth.“
Psalm 145:18 ESV

Fall Flowers and Storms are Upon Us

Wed, 30 Aug 2023 01:30:00 -0600

Passionflower Vine, foreground. Elephant Ears, background.

The roadways are lined with Joe Pye Weed, Giant Ironweed, St. John’s Wort, Black-eyed Susans, Goldenrod and all manner of wildflowers. Most people think of these beautiful wildflowers as weeds, but they’re wonderful feeding stations for pollinators to store up the rich honey they need to survive on in the winter. I used to look at them as weeds and pulled stuff up out of my carefully landscaped flower beds all the time. Now, I seek them out to harvest seed for my own pollinator gardens.

We have a few passionflower vines that grow on our fence and somehow they all got pulled up either last fall or early this spring and I didn’t think we were ever going to get any this year. But they’re pretty hardy and low and behold, by the first of August, we had one little vine weaving it’s way up the chain link. Just last week, it started producing a few flowers and my heart was so happy. They are truly beautiful and I hope they come back next year, bigger and better.

Arabian Starflower…a variety of Star of Bethlehem. We harvest the bulbs from these and store them in the basement over the winter then plant them again in the spring in an old galvanaized washtub.

Our Elephant Ears are really looking good at this time of year. They are almost to the top of the chain link on the other side of the fenced in back yard. They grow from a tuber that looks an awful lot like a jicama. Every year, the plants produce more tubers and we give them away like crazy to all our family and friends. And still, every spring, Mr. FixIt has to extend the bed by several feet in order to accommodate all of them. It’s too bad we need to dig them up before the first frost or they’ll die. They are a lot of work, but they make a real nice display.

I thought perhaps I would mow yesterday, but it rained off and on and is supposed to continue on today. That will push off the mowing till later in the week and then the grass with be tougher and thicker and harder to mow. Since we couldn’t get outside and work, we fiddled around in the house all day. I was looking for glass tops for these end tables we bought over the weekend, but glass has gotten so expensive and I’m not going to pay as. Much for the glass as I did the tables. After researching alternatives, I decided to just use doilies and coasters and call it good.

I haven’t seen a single Monarch Butterfly this year. Photo Credit: Pixabay

I worked on the computer and designed a few Halloween shirts. I cooked and cleaned and made popcorn after supper. And that was good enough for me. We don’t have to be anywhere this week, so I’m happy to be nesting a little.

If you are in the path of severe weather or fires or crazy gunmen today, please be safe and know we are all praying for you! Let us know what’s happening in your neck of the woods.

“It will be a shelter from daytime heat and a hiding place from storms and rain.”
Isaiah 4:6 NLT

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The Black Cats Boo Band…three little black kitties play guitar and “BOOgy”!

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Boring Photos

Thu, 17 Aug 2023 01:30:00 -0600

When our grandchildren have grandchildren of their own, they’ll have entirely different photo albums than we did. Well, they probably won’t even have photo albums. They’ll have the Cloud. That ought to be fun at parties. Anyway, I saw a comedy routine the other day and the comedian was lamenting about photo albums. Our grandparents had great photo albums. If we were lucky, the names of the people in the photos were written on the back, or underneath the picture. When we said, “Who’s that, Grandma?” she’d tell us that was your great-great-grandfather when he got back from the Civil War. Or, “That’s your great aunt. She worked in the shovel plant during the war.” Worldly things. Honorable things. Great things!

Our great-grandchildren will ask about pictures and their parents will say, “That’s what Grandma had for supper on August 16, 2023.” Or, “That’s me taking a picture of myself doing fish lips.”

Fun times.

I came up to my friend Gail’s house on Tuesday because our mutual friend was driving through on a road trip. We like to take whatever opportunity we can to have a visit, however brief it is. Our friend heads on today and I may stay on another night for some extra Gail time. She fixed an amazing dinner last night….baked salmon, tiny potatoes, and fresh green beans. I made a double batch of homemade Roasted Red Pepper Hummus yesterday. I’ve always heard it’s so much better than store bought and man…they weren’t kidding. This stuff is killer. I’ll leave the recipe here for you. The only down side is it’s 190 calories for a 1/4th cup serving. I wonder if it would taste the same without all the olive oil in it?

I worked on more fall t-shirts yesterday. I think they came out nice. I continued knitting on a pair of socks I started back in February. There just aren’t enough hours in the day to do all the things! We’re going on a little “field trip” before our friend leaves. There’s a thrift shop we really love. Unfortunately, a lot of the businesses on Main Street in East Palestine, OH have closed since the train derailment and subsequent chemical disaster.

This is the first time I’ve been here since the disaster. All night long, I lay in the bed in their cottage next door and listened to trains going by…one after another…speeding through this little town that is still reeling from the consequences of dumping thousands of gallons of carcinogenic chemicals into the air, soil, and water. There are still hundreds of people displaced from their homes and living either in hotels, campers or with family or friends. You can’t drink the water. You can’t eat the vegetables from the gardens. It’s just awful.

Please keep the folks of East Palestine and so many other places who are suffering from man made disasters in your prayers. They need them!

“I form the light, and create darkness: I make peace, and create evil: I the LORD do all these things.”
Isaiah 45:7 KJV

SO Much Mowing!

Sun, 06 Aug 2023 01:30:00 -0600

Two little mushrooms under the maple tree.

When we got home a week ago, the grass was so long I had to cut it on 5 to keep from popping the belt off the mower deck. I knew I’d be mowing later in the week because 5 isn’t very short. I mowed yesterday on 4 to get caught up and maybe not have to mow for another week. The fall grass is growing now and it’s rough and tough to mow. I didn’t like the way the mower sounded so I came in off the field to grease the fittings in the steering and the wheels. I couldn’t get to the fitting for the steering column because it was too hot. Mr. FixIt use the air compressor and blew off all the extra grass so we can run it up on the truck ramps soon and hit that fitting with some grease. In the meantime, he sprayed a little WD40 on it and it sounds a lot better.

It rained at least five inches last month…maybe more with evaporation.

It was really hot out there on the tractor. I drove around with the golf umbrella to keep the sun off. We bought these little fan gizmos that fit across the back of your neck and over your collar bones. They have three fan speeds and while it didn’t really cool me off, the breeze was nice. I was so glad when I was finally finished. Mr. FixIt mowed inside the fence because it’s supposed to rain here today. We’ve really had a nice week weather wise. A little cooler.

Mr. FixIt’s Elephant Ears…we get more and more every year!

I was hoping to get out to the farm yesterday but mowing always takes precedence. Now that I have that behind me, I can pack up a few things and get out there for my summer farm fix. Mr. FixIt has his first bowling meeting of the year tonight and football has been on TV already. You can just feel summer wrapping up. Daughter #1 is preparing for the school year. The new teacher they hired decided to take a different job, as did the new clerk…three weeks before school started. So she’s definitely going to have her work cut out for her shifting schedules around and getting someone hired.

Please pray for the students, teachers, and staff for the new school year. God, please keep them safe!

“In peace I will lie down and sleep, for you alone, Lord, make me dwell in safety.”
Psalms 4:8 NIV

Day Two - A Lesson in Patience

Fri, 30 Jun 2023 01:30:00 -0600

While our total miles from Point A to Point B was actually shorter than Wednesday’s, wowza…was it different. And LONGER time-wise. And more exciting Mother Nature wise.

Every morning when we start out driving, I hold the cross that hangs from my rear view mirror and ask God to wrap his arms around us. To build a wall around us to keep us safe. And, with all the heat, thunderstorms and tornadoes doing on in the midwest, I asked him to control the winds.

We drove along uneventfully for a couple of hours when I could see the sky darkening along the western horizon. I asked my trusty navigator to check the weather app radar to see what we were heading into and when, he let out a long whistle when he saw it. I knew that wasn’t good. We were hungry and needed a bathroom break and pulled into a large open parking area by a big metal building.

We weren’t in there fifteen minutes when I looked out and said, “OMGosh!!! We need to go now!” I didn’t feel safe all exposed like that. We jumped in the truck and made it to the next exit where there was a Love’s Truck Stop. After a few tries, I weaved the truck and the camper through the mass of parked vehicles and went around back. I parked so that the brunt of the wind would hit us square into the back end. This made our wind resistance lower. The rain was coming down in torrents. I looked up at the cross and said, “Lord…I need that wall about now!” Just then, this great big motor home was coming in. There were plenty of places for him to park over on the other side and it looked like he was going to turn into one of them. Then, he stopped for a few seconds, and made a beeline over to us. He parked snugly between me and southwest winds. Thirty seconds later, a huge truck pulled in behind us and blocked ALL of the wind! We had our wall and I thanked Jesus for keeping us safe!

We road out the storm. The winds died down and the lightning lessened…as did the rain. We watched the huge wall of red pass over us on the radar as it headed eastward. The big truck behind us left and we followed shortly after.

Our next obstacles were several areas of road construction that had us stopped like a parking lot on the interstate. We waited for the first. On to the second. There were trees down and the grasses were plastered flat to the ground looking all the world like a giant had slicked his green hair down with a comb. Limbs and leaves were everywhere. By the third stop, we literally could have gotten out and walked around for a while. We weren’t going anywhere. When we finally did make it through, we saw the culprit. There was a large boom truck parked alongside the interstate and its huge arm was holding up the power lines that were slung low to the ground from the powerful storm. On ahead, we were stopped yet again. This time it was a semi that had been blown over on its side from the wind.

Finally…we broke through the bottleneck and made it to Jubilee College State Park Campground. The college itself was founded in 1839. I wish we had more time to explore, but the campground was huge and quiet and affordable at only $20 per night. We made sure everything was put away last night so we can get an earlier start today. We have over 400 miles to drive today and we don’t want to get in late. We like to have a nice meal and relax a little, maybe play some cards or watch some videos together and get a good night’s sleep.

I’ll check in tomorrow. And keep those prayers coming…they’re working!!!

Two more sleeps!!!

““Keep on asking, and you will receive what you ask for. Keep on seeking, and you will find. Keep on knocking, and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks, receives. Everyone who seeks, finds. And to everyone who knocks, the door will be opened.”
Matthew 7:7-8 NLT

What a Relief

Fri, 16 Jun 2023 01:30:00 -0600

I want to thank you all for your prayers for Mr. FixIt. His procedure went well and his pain has decreased tremendously. As a matter of fact, we drove to town last evening and listened to live music in the park and sat in our new camping chairs. He remarked on the way home that he feels so good…it’s incredible. The new chairs are great, by the way. Not terribly light weight, but very comfy and I love rocking in them.

We stopped for salads on the way to the park and had dinner al fresco. It was fun to see a few people there that we know but honestly, I was a little surprised I didn’t see more. I was charmed by those who did attend. There were tons of folks in walkers or with canes and I thought, “You go, girl! Way to get out there and rock!” It was great!

The newlyweds are on their honeymoon and they’ve been sharing photos in a group chat of the sunsets and the great food they’ve been eating. We were sitting at the park and our son shared a photo of his plate of food. It was so funny so we all started sharing pictures of what we were eating and what we were looking at. It was great fun but I hope it doesn’t discourage the kids from sharing. They are having the time of their lives!

I need to get the camper straightened up and restocked because I leave Sunday to camp for four days with my camping friends. I have to gather my knitting to work on. We take turns cooking for our shared meals so I need to shop a little bit. I’ll have to stop in Williamstown to dump the waste tanks on the way to the campground.

It will be no time and we’ll need to pack for the Colorado trip. These month long trips are epic!

“Always be joyful. Never stop praying.”
1 Thessalonians 5:16-17 NLT

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Thank you for supporting my writing. I’ve offered my heart to you here for the last ten years for free. My shop helps me pay for the extras that add up…the website and resources needed to keep Marshmallow Ranch up and running. I have the best readers on the internet and I want you to know how much I appreciate you all. Thank you!

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A Wonderful God Story

Fri, 21 Apr 2023 01:30:00 -0600

You may remember that we found “Grace”, our new-to-us camper, when we drove by the home of her owner. We had the the Big Birdhouse, but it wasn’t quite the right fit for us. When I first saw that camper in front of that beautiful white farmhouse on the hilltop over from Marshmallow Ranch, I knew in my heart it was ours. I had been praying for a solution and there it was, right in front of me. The only problem was, we needed to finance the new camper and pay it off when the Big Birdhouse sold.

Now, the wonderful woman who was selling the camper was a new widow. This touched my heart because that’s how I came to get my first camper. She was so sweet and waited patiently while we got the financing straightened out and soon the camper was ours. We knew we’d have to wait until spring camping season to sell it. Now, we discussed the price to list it. We wanted to get a little more than we owed because the camper is like brand new and was worth it. But…here’s what happened.

The Holy Spirit kept telling me to sell it for a price $2,000 lower than what we listed. My husband is a frugal man and a shrewd business dealer. He thought we could get higher. I prayed about it and asked God to send us the perfect buyers. Well, here’s how He works in our lives. Yesterday morning, Mr. FixIt and I were just finishing breakfast when his phone rang. The woman identified herself. She said she was out in the driveway and wandered if we could come out and show her the camper. He told her we’d be right out.

As I was putting on my shoes, I said, “Wait…what did she say her name was?” When he repeated it, my chin dropped. “Honey…that’s the woman we bought the other camper from!” At first, I couldn’t believe it. Then, of course, I started laughing. Because OF COURSE it was her….God brought her to us! We went out and she had another surprise for us. She introduced us to her new husband. And…just as with Mr. FixIt and I…they went to high school together! Now, they had dated in high school for a couple of years and Mr. FixIt and I were never sweethearts back then. But that’s the only difference.

My heart swelled when I saw how happy they were! He had lost his wife several years ago so it was literally a match made in heaven. We showed them the camper inside and out. And told them how much we were asking. They said they would think about it and get back to us. It wasn’t an hour till they called and said they would like the camper and made an offer. The dickering began and Mr. FixIt was kind of sticking to his guns and only going down a little.

This is when the Holy Spirit kept nudging me and I firmly suggested the price to Mr. FixIt. He hesitated, but when he saw the look on my face, and knew I had a reason and agreed. It was exactly the price I knew God wanted us to receive and the weight of the world lifted from my shoulders. The lesson this taught me is found in the scripture I’ve chosen for today. We must be humble in our requests to God. We were getting a little cocky and thinking we would make a little extra money than what we owed. When God wants to teach us a lesson, He doesn’t mess around.

So, that’s the story of my life. God brings the people to me that he wants me to interact with. And He sends the Holy Spirit to touch my heart to do the right thing. And now, this beautiful newly married couple have the right camper for them at the right time. And so do we. And now? Now we only have ONE camper…like normal people!

God is so good…ALL the time!

And now…we’re off for a week of fun…hopefully with some sun. I’m praying for that, too!

“If I had cherished sin in my heart, the Lord would not have listened; but God has surely listened and has heard my prayer. Praise be to God, who has not rejected my prayer or withheld his love from me!”
Psalms 66:18-20 NIV

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“The only reason I have a kitchen is because it came with the camper!”

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A Busy Windy Day

Sun, 26 Mar 2023 01:30:00 -0600

I started off my day slipping quietly out of the house early to meet a few of my classmates for our ‘71 Divas Do Coffee gathering. It was so good to see the girls…some of whom I hadn’t seen since our class reunion last August. They all looked so wonderful and healthy. It did my heart good to spend time with them.

It was getting really windy by the time we came out of the coffee shop. I had a couple short stops to make before I headed back to Marshmallow Ranch. Mr. FixIt was just finishing his lunch when I got home and then he got back to work on the hallway. I noticed a few things in the project on Friday night that I wanted to tidy up so I did spend a little time working on the computer.

Mr. FixIt had just finished and was sitting down to watch golf when the lights started to brown out and flicker off and on. We kinda held our breath, but we knew it didn’t look good. Sure enough, about ten seconds later, the electricity went off and that was that. I brought a take-and-bake pizza home to cook for supper but without power, we were pretty much out of luck. Since he ran out of caulk for the moulding in the hall, Mr. FixIt suggested we run into town to get more and then go out for supper.

We stopped at Walmart to buy the caulk, but the near empty parking lot told us the power was out there, too. Of course, Lowe’s next door would be no help. We decided to go up to Vienna to the Walmart on that side of town. Walmart didn’t have the caulk, but the Vienna Lowe’s did and we were soon set.

Since we were on the north side of town, we decided to head up the river to Marietta, Ohio for the best ribs in the Mid Ohio Valley…Boathouse BBQ. Since the beginning of the pandemic, we have been very cautious about eating in restaurants hence we ordered our food to go and ate in the car overlooking the sweeping view of the river. Between the high water and the stiff winds, the river looked more like a muddy ocean with choppy white-capped waves than its usual placid surface. I would have loved to sit out on the beached dock, but the wind had a decided nip to it even though the temperature was in the seventies. So, we sat in the comfort of the car. I cant tell you how many “car dates” we’ve had in the last three years.

On our way to the restaurant, we passed an apartment house with an enormous tree that crushed the roof in. I haven’t heard anything, so I do hope everyone was safe. I watch a scanner page on FB and there were reports all over town of down trees and power lines across a large swath of the surrounding area. As we drove slower to home, we saw some of the electricity was restored but alas…ours was not. There was no indication on the power company website when the service might be restored.

As I am writing this, we have the battery-powered camping lantern on the table beside Mr. FixIt’s Big Red Chair and I am sitting happily in the dark on my side of the room tippy-tapping on my keyboard…writing my thoughts to you. I have to say, I’m loving the peaceful camaraderie with no TV. The peepers are going crazy out there and this might be a night to sleep in the camper. Maybe I’ll hear an owl…or a whippoorwill. Or just a calmer wind blowing through the trees on the ridge top beyond the far field.

“He made the storm be still, and the waves of the sea were hushed.”
Psalm 107:29 ESV

The Eagles Flew the Coop

Mon, 13 Feb 2023 02:30:00 -0600

Mr. Virgo was from South Philly and proud of it. He loved his mama, his cheese steaks, and his Eagles. They were always “his Eagles”…as if proximity to the family brownstone indicated proprietorship. He told me from the very beginning, “Ahhhh, those birds. They just break my heart every year.” And they did. Every year of his life. Then…in 2018, they won the Super Bowl. Nearly five years after he died.

I was ecstatic for the posthumous glory of it all. I knew Mr. Virgo must be up there whoopin’ and hollerin’ and makin’ a fuss. God had to be standing there with a big ol’ grin watching the big guy rave on. It was a heart warming moment. The Eagles had an amazing season this year and faced the Chiefs with strength and skill. They messed up a couple of vital plays and there were a couple of calls that were sketchy. I hoped to the end they could pull it out, but I marveled at the cunning strategy with the clock as the Chiefs squeaked by with the win.

I do believe this was the highlight of the evening.

The halftime show was pretty cool, too. There were no fashion malfunctions and it was fun to hear some of Rihanna’s best songs. And those floating stages? Awesome! We went to one of the kids’ houses to watch the game, visit with friends, and eat yummy food. It was a really fun evening. I totally forgot to post Sunday Evening Prayer Circle…my apologies.

Here’s a pic of the hallway we are painting. I forgot to take a before but you can see from the picture in yesterday’s post how much lighter the paint color is. It’s really bright and clean now. We just have to cut around the edges and Mr. FixIt can put up the new molding and we’re done with that project.

Big put up a valiant showing at the NWC Championships over the weekend. I haven’t heard the overall scores, but she enjoyed it and it was a great experience. AND, she is a freshman. She has lots of room to grow into her own. We’re all very proud of her.

Please pray for the victims of the earthquakes. That kind of devastation is unfathomable. It breaks my heart.

“Jesus said, “Watch out for doomsday deceivers. Many leaders are going to show up with forged identities, claiming, ‘I am Christ, the Messiah.’ They will deceive a lot of people. When reports come in of wars and rumored wars, keep your head and don’t panic. This is routine history; this is no sign of the end. Nation will fight nation and ruler fight ruler, over and over. Famines and earthquakes will occur in various places. This is nothing compared to what is coming.”
Matthew 24:4-8 MSG

Is It Just Me???

Sat, 28 Jan 2023 02:30:00 -0600

Me, after the week I’ve had with all these computer glitches!

Is it just me or are you having trouble with your electronics? My computer is glitchy. So is my iPad and iPhone. The TV picture has been pixelated for weeks now off and on. And don’t get me started on the internet! I’ve spent hours the last two days scanning my hard drives. Running virus scans. Backing up my iPad. Trying to dump extra data off of it. It’s frustrating. Why don’t things just work like they’re supposed to?

I know, I know…first world problems. We have become so entrenched in the digital age…how on earth would we do things if the whole system crashed? Younger generations don’t know a time without computers and cell phones and the internet. They wouldn’t know how to bank, how to write a check, how to…well, do just about anything.

I’m knee deep in this project and I’m loving it…except for the glitchy electronics. It can’t just be me. My dear friend Sue told me the other night they were also having trouble with their Roku and something else…phones, maybe. My e-mails aren’t even moving right. And it’s not just the WiFi. It’s cell data, too. But, I have to remind myself that we do live in the boonies and our service here is powered by two possums and a squirrel.

The good thing is, I’m moving ever forward.

I elected to stay home yesterday and try to tease out some of these snags in quiet. Mr. FixIt went to his appointment and ran errands. He brought home a bake-at-home pizza that he got for $5. Honestly, you could have read the newspaper through that crust. I’m here to tell ya…that was some of the most flavorful pizza I’ve ever had. Since the crust was so thin, it didn’t make me feel like I had a lead football in my stomach afterward. It’s from Mama Cozzi’s Pizza Kitchen. He bought it at Aldi’s…our new favorite grocery store. It’s billed as a cut rate market with items from around the world. The only staff on hand are the folks running the cash register and someone stocking the shelves and you have to bring your own bags or use the boxes they’re throwing out. That keeps the overhead low and it’s reflected in the prices.

Mr. FixIt is heading up to the WVU basketball game with his son and I’m staying here to get some more work done. I promise I’m going to get some fun stuff in as well. I’m glad I came up with this idea at this time of year…I have much more free time than I would in the summer.

As I was writing yesterday’s post, the date seemed familiar somehow. I thought about it a bit then it occurred to me…I married Hubby #1 fifty years ago. I know I’ve mentioned that in the past few weeks, but at the time, it just flew right over my head. I sent him a text and told him how glad I was we were still friends. I’ve known him even longer than I’ve known Mr. FixIt. Hubby #1 and I officially met in Junior High. His family and mine have been intertwined since before I was born.

I know there are people who get out of horrible marriages and have nothing to do with their exes. I can understand that it’s different for everyone and I don’t judge them one bit. I’m fortunate to have two ex-husbands that I managed to remain friends…even family…with. I worked hard for that connection because it was easier for our kids and easier for us in the long run. And, it sets an example of good behavior for the younger generations should there be a breakup in their marriages…God forbid.

I’m sending some intentions out before God surrounding this project, for the items I need to make it easier, and for the venture to be a success. I’m reminding myself that Philippians 4:13 isn’t just referring to getting through the horrors in life. I believe we can use that scripture to help us work through the hard stuff, the frustrating stuff, the stuff that seems never-ending. We CAN succeed through Christ who strengthens us when we approach him through prayers and thanksgiving.

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.”
Philippians 4:6 NIV

#Prayer, #Strength, #Thanksgiving

What Doctor’s Appointment?

Tue, 17 Jan 2023 02:30:00 -0600

I had just turned six and My Auntie Rosie brought Cathy from Chicago to meet us!

We got up and out the door to go to Mr. FixIt’s eye doctor appointment in plenty of time. When we got there, the doors were locked. Martin Luther King Day? Did we miss something? We checked our calendars again and we both had the same day and time. Mr. FixIt called the doctor’s office and the gal who answered said they called us in November to change the appointment to next month. Neither of us remember getting that call, so we came to town for nothing.

We didn’t let it be a wasted trip, however. We went to Sam’s and the Post Office Box. We went to visit the Former Mrs. FixIt to pick up some cookies she bought for us. Then we went to Michael’s. I’ve seen a new art medium I’m dying to try…Gel Plate Printing. It wasn’t very expensive to get a few supplies and I’ll give it a try. I’ll tell you more about it when I get set up. There are a few things I simply must finish first.

We stopped at Der Dog Haus for a little early supper before we headed home.

My cousin called last evening to give me an update. My sweet Auntie Rosie is in the final days of her life’s journey. She’s now in hospice care so it’s just a matter of time. My mom’s last sister. *sigh* But, what a homecoming she’s going to have! She gets to see my Grandma and PopPop and my mom soon. But most importantly, she gets to meet Jesus face to face! And someday we’ll ALL be together again! We are planning a gathering here in WV to spread some of her ashes with her parents and siblings. We’ll spread some at the farm where she grew up. And we’ll get the cousins together for some love. That will be good for all of us.

The last time I visited with my aunt, she told me when she was old and frail, she didn’t want me to come see her. She wanted me to remember her like she used to be…with vim and vigor. We talked on the phone regularly and we always had stories to share. We laughed and we cried. I am so happy I sent her a copy of the memory book I created after the farm sold so she had all the special old photos and stories. She cherished that and it warms my heart.

Letting go of our elders is sad. With my aunt’s passing…I will become the matriarch of our family. That is sobering. It seems impossible. There’s a lot that’s going to be packed into the next week…and in my next birthday…my 70th. I’m not necessarily sorrowful. I’m introspective and somber. That is normal.

And now…a Bible verse for my bold and brassy Aunt Rosie…travel peacefully, dear one.

“God and Jesus and angels all back me up in these instructions…..And don’t worry too much about what the critics will say. Go ahead and drink a little wine, for instance; it’s good for your digestion, good medicine for what ails you.”
1 Timothy 5:21-23 MSG

What a Gorgeous Day

Tue, 27 Sep 2022 01:30:00 -0600

The light was fading by the time we got home.

I love to drive…especially on a day when the sky is blue with big white, puffy clouds. The temps were cool, there was a breeze, and the trees were beginning to put on their royal robes to show off. We went to the dealership to pick up the Big Birdhouse, but there was something else on it that needed fixing so it’ll be a little while longer.

As we sat in a parking lot, eating our late-lunch-early-supper, a gentleman pulled up in the tractor part of a tractor trailer to get something to eat. When he came out, he came right over to us and started up a conversation. Leon is from Dallas, a part-time 50 year old single truck driver and father who found Jesus after an unfortunate night in Beverly Hills three years ago. He drives a gorgeous red truck that he’s “married to”. He wants to find love so he doesn’t grow old alone. I told him I’d pray for him and I’d have my friends in my prayer circle pray for him, too. He thought that was amazing. He was friendly as all get out.

I love when God sends people across your path…your “assignments” for the day. People to talk to, pray for, lift up, and love on. Leon was a beefy man with a ready smile. His glasses perched on his forehead, his eyes twinkled with delight as we chatted. It occurred to me, I didn’t really notice that he was black at first. I know that seems hard to believe, but all I saw was this amazing smile. That’s when I realized…I wasn’t looking at his physical being. I was seeing the LIGHT he carries inside and it warmed my spirit that God showed me that aspect of Leon first and foremost. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we all could just see the LIGHT in each other???

When Leon went on his way, Mr. FixIt and I looked through the reservation app on my phone and chose our next camping adventure which begins tomorrow. We’ve stayed at this campground before but not since 2019. There’s deep woods all around, and the further we get into late September, early October the more the colors are going to change! My all time favorite time to camp!

Today is mowing day at the farm then a phone conference with my brother’s care team in Colorado. And repacking the camper. Then we’ll be off on another adventure in the morning!

“Again Jesus spoke to them, saying, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.””
John 8:12 ESV

Looking Back Can Be a Good Thing

Mon, 26 Sep 2022 01:30:00 -0600

To the right, through the trees, you see an appartment building with balconies. On the top floor, to the right of the balcony, is the window of the livingroom in our flat.

Have you seen that meme… “Don’t look back. You aren’t going in that direction.”? I have. And there’s a lot of truth in that. If we live in the past or hold grievances from long ago, that hasn’t healed anything that’s already happened. That day is gone. It can’t hurt you anymore. But the memories…ahhhh, that’s where we can get caught up in a lot of self-defeating angst.

On the top floor, the balcony closest to the camera was ours…just off the livingroom.

I read something about forgiveness the other day that really spoke to my heart.

The front walkway.

“Forgiveness is not a matter of exonerating people who have hurt you. They may not deserve exoneration. Forgiveness means cleansing your soul of the bitterness of ‘what might have been,’ ‘what should have been,’ and ‘what didn’t have to happen.’ Someone has defined forgiveness as ‘giving up all hope of having had a better past.’ What’s past is past and there is little to be gained by dwelling on it. There are perhaps no sadder people than the men and women who have a grievance against the world because of something that happened years ago and have let that memory sour their view of life ever since.”
Rabbi Harold S Kushner

There used to be clotheslines right about where the photographer would have been standing. I hung diapers there to dry as best they could between the frequent English rains. I ended up buying a drying rack and aired them out between the balcony and the livingroom.

I received some photos the other day that took me WAY back. Back to my first marriage. Back to living in England…a young bride, so far from home for the very first time. It’s where my first child was born. England was a wonderful life experience for me and I still have dreams of it from time to time. As every rose has thorns, that marriage had some prickly ones that were hard to go through and it didn’t last very long.

The narrow walkway from the parking lot to the front doors.

I’ve worked diligently through the years on forgiveness. Forgiving others. Forgiving myself. Forgiveness seldom takes on the first try…or even the tenth. But practice brings improvement and eventually I found peace with the hard knocks of life. Each experience contributed to who I am and where I am today. Without the experiences, I likely wouldn’t be writing to you today. So, I’ll live with that.

Driving on the wrong side of the road, sitting on the wrong side of the car, shifting with your left hand, navigating round abouts and zebras (crosswalks) and minding the cyclists and horses…land sakes, it was a challenge when I was young. I can’t imagine doing it now.

In the meantime, let me share these photos. Forgiveness has made these memories warm and sweet. I do hope that one day I can return here to visit and maybe take my daughter to see where she was born. For now, I look and remember simpler times. Times when I thought I knew it all, yet had no idea how much I didn’t know. The world was still rosy and fresh and new. Thank God, I’ve found those glasses again and can see it much the same way. As I wrote this, I heard a large jetliner overhead and checked on FlightAware only to find it was a flight headed to London! Lucky travelers!

I’ve no idea if this was the actual chip shop we frequented, but I have fond memories of paper cones made from newsprint, filled with golden, crispy, greasy fish and chips doused in malt vinegar and salt. Oh, yummmmm!

When we think differently, the world looks different.

“And whenever you stand praying, forgive, if you have anything against anyone, so that your Father also who is in heaven may forgive you your trespasses.””
Mark 11:25 ESV

The Highs and Lows of a Day

Sat, 03 Sep 2022 01:30:00 -0600

I woke up super early yesterday and decided to whip up a batch of biscuits. I made my coffee and took two piping hot biscuits with butter and homemade jams and headed for the pool deck to watch the morning sun come over the hill. I brought you along on a FB Live if you want to catch it. You can see the morning fog in the trees. It was delightful, even though the dew was dripping on me from the pergola.

Mr. FixIt was still snoozing so I went downstairs and started sewing on the quilt. Things were going great for a couple of hours but then I started feeling really hot and within moments I was sick. I seem to have become sensitive to my morning coffee which is a real bummer as I am a coffee hound. I have been burning the candle at both ends this week and haven’t slept well so went back to bed and slept till 2:00 in the afternoon. When I got up, I felt much better.

I took some 7UP and soda crackers, just in case, and went back down to the sewing nook and got several blocks put together. I had to stop and rip some seams out of the first three because I didn’t put them together quite right. I ended up hanging the first block on the fabric board behind my sewing machine as a guide. Once I did that, I didn’t have a problem putting them together correctly.

Around 4:30, Mr. FixIt came down and asked if I could help with a project. A couple of years ago, we finished remodeling the bathroom off the master bedroom. This summer, it has sprung a leak around the exhaust pipe. It did that once before and Mr. FixIt got up there and nailed the rubber gasket down around it and that fixed the small leak. But this week, it started leaking with a vengeance.

The Offending Leak

Now, you know my sweetheart had a couple of small strokes in 2020 and his balance is forever changed by that. He does great, he works hard and he can do just about anything, but climbing up a ladder and going up on a roof is NOT happening. We have boys, but they were working yesterday and it’s supposed to rain all weekend. So…I’m the next best thing. Mr. FixIt said I may not want to do it and if I didn’t, we’d work something out. I told him I’d have a look.

Stupid Human Tricks

The first thing I did was say a prayer. A BIG prayer. Then I crossed myself for good measure…in case Mr. Virgo was watching. I know God was…and all my legion of guardian angels it takes to keep my adventurous butt safe.

The first time I climbed up the ladder, I asked if we could change the angle so the ascent would be less steep. I came down and we repositioned the ladder. The second time I climbed up, I didn’t like that there wasn’t enough ladder at the top so that I’d feel more comfortable stepping onto the roof. I came back down and we extended the ladder another rung. This time I went up and, after just a few moments of hesitation and evaluating where to put my foot, etc., I stepped confidently on the roof and made my way to the offending pipe.

I had a rope tied around my waist and pulled up the battery powered caulking gun. Mr. FixIt tossed up the hammer and a bag of roofing nails. I proceeded to nail down the rubber flashing and caulked the heck out of that thing. I had rubber gloves on and I smeared the black goo into all the seams of the shingles as well as the top of the rubber gasket where it looked dry and aging. If that thing leaks now, I’d be really surprised.

I lowered the caulking gun back down over the edge and tossed the hammer after making sure Mr. FixIt and the cat were nowhere near. Mr. FixIt held on to the ladder with a death grip and, using the top of the extension, I easily held on and stepped around with my sturdy work boots. I was back down in record time. It was still pretty hot up there and the ball of my hand is red from using it to lift myself up and down. I only got a little of the black goo on me so now we’ll wait and see how it does in the rain.

The offending pipe…caulked within an inch of its life!

Mr. FixIt beamed when I came down the ladder. I know he is so proud of me when I do things like this. He thanks me profusely and tells me I do a good job. That means a lot to me. Losing Mr. Virgo so suddenly has taught me I need to know how to do things around here…anywhere, really. I’m happy to help and to push my boundaries to see what I am still capable of. I didn’t feel unsafe and the pitch of that roof is so low, it’s nearly flat. I would NEVER get up on a steep pitched roof. And hopefully, I won’t have to get back up on this one. But I know I can…at least for the time being.

I remember when my grandma broke her first hip. The doctor asked my aunt if she had ANY idea what her mother was doing at the time. My aunt allowed she did not. Turns out, grandma had tied a rope around her waist and tied the other end to a tree. She was going to have my uncle cut down the tree and she wanted to “make sure that tree didn’t go down into the creek and block it up.” Well, as luck would have it, the rope broke before the tree was felled and she hit the ground, breaking her hip. It’s a darned good thing because that tree would have whipped her down with it! So, see? I get this craziness honest!

Once I got down from the roof, I went right back down to the sewing machine and worked for another couple of hours. Like I told you the other day…Step Four on this quilt is going to be the most complicated and time consuming of them all so I just have to plug along and be happy with progress.

“Therefore, my beloved brothers, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that in the Lord your labor is not in vain.”
1 Corinthians 15:58 ESV

Like Peas and Carrots

Mon, 07 Mar 2022 02:30:00 -0600

One of the hardest things about knitting a “pair” of anything is getting them to match exactly. Such was the case with the mittens. First, I think I stopped a little short on the thumb gusset, then I knitted a little tighter, creating a slightly smaller mitten the second time. Not enough to be a real problem and it can be corrected with proper blocking. But still, it is a little frustrating to follow a pattern and get different results. I have about five and a half inches of the matching hat finished then I can set that project aside and be finished with this yarn.

I’m trying to use up some of the yarns I have in my stash. The owner of the yarn shop I’ve been frequenting told me someone asked her how many UFO’s she had. (UFO - UnFinished Objects) she told the gal she thought she had four or five. She went home and counted. Turns out she has more like a couple dozen. That’s what happens when I do needle crafts. I see these beautiful yarns and I have to have them. At one point, I had enough yarn to knit a dozen pairs of socks. I’m whittling it down to a more manageable level.

I slept in the camper on Saturday night. I use the term loosely because I only slept sporadically. I discovered the electric blanket does indeed work. It must have been way too cold for it to overcome the last time I stayed out there. I was reading along about 3:00am when I heard a scream right outside the camper that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. It happened again and again then started running away from me toward the creek. By the speed it was traveling, I knew it had to be something fast. I looked up animal sounds on the internet and determined it was a fox. The resultant adrenalin kept me up the rest of the night.

The rain started around 4:00 in the morning and continued off and on all day. The former Mrs. FixIt came for a visit in the afternoon which is always such a delight. We had a lovely conversation as I rocked and knitted. We are all so blessed that we have cultivated our friendship. So many divorced couples are so hateful and it isn’t good for anyone involved. She and I have an awful lot in common. I save my magazines for her. She saves coupons for us. It’s wonderful to have such a large and blended family.

As I settled in to write this last night, I had the window open and the spring peepers were calling for the first time this year. I heard them the night of March 2nd up near where my bonus son lives, but this is the first time here on “Marshmallow Ranch”. Mr. FixIt was in the family room when he called to tell me there was a little peeper on the family room window. It took me quite a while to capture a photo because of lighting, but I finally managed. They are such cute little things.

It is Monday…a brand new week. A brand new opportunity to be our best selves and to love the way Jesus loves. My heart breaks with every news report coming out of Ukraine. To listen to them speak of their prayers to God to give them strength and courage and to vanquish their enemies from their land humbles me. To watch the villagers in Poland running to greet the mothers and children and elders with open arms fills me with hope. To watch the mothers packed in rail cars with their babies traveling into the unknown, leaving their husbands and fathers behind to fight an unjust war fills me with dismay and anger.

I cannot help but wonder how things would have been different if it was Mr. Virgo sitting by my side watching these scenes unfolding. I’ve wondered about the differences between our political viewpoints and how those might have affected us the last few years. As I count down to the ninth anniversary of his death, I am compelled to recognize how difficult it might have been for us. We were both firmly entrenched in our ideals. I can’t help but think the state of the world today might have driven a wedge between us. As it is, he died before that particular scenario played out. There is nothing good about losing him. And, if he had to go then, it was before anything could have affected us negatively. I do know he would not have handled the pandemic well.

Mr. FixIt and I are perfectly aligned…politically and spiritually. This knowledge allows me to relax. I don’t have to walk on eggshells or worry about saying the wrong thing. I guess the larger lesson is this…I shouldn’t have worried so much about it before and been more true to myself. I think I finally grew into the person I was always meant to be once I began to emerge from the flames of grief. That is why Mr. FixIt and I are so compatible. We’ve both had the rough edges knocked off by life and we just fit together…like peas and carrots.

“And he said to them, “I saw Satan fall like lightning from heaven. Behold, I have given you authority to tread on serpents and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy, and nothing shall hurt you. Nevertheless, do not rejoice in this, that the spirits are subject to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven.””
Luke 10:18-20 ESV

An Incredible Day

Fri, 31 Dec 2021 02:30:00 -0600

I had one of the most amazing experiences yesterday…and in the days leading up to it. We’ve talked here a lot about anxiety and PTSD. I cannot remember a time since Mr. Virgo died that I didn’t experience incredible, sometimes debilitating anxiety before any medical event. When I was here in the big city to get my 4D CT Scan on October 14th, I spent the night before in the hotel room throwing up from anxiety. This time was completely different.

I started studying some really good devotionals on anxiety and how to get the upper hand and not let it be the boss. I studied sub-personalities and how they affect worry and stress and the combination of the two…anxiety. I’m a firm believer that knowledge is power in that it can alleviate some of the “unknown” in a situation. But, what really made the difference was pulling out the Big Guns.

I prayed. You prayed. Everyone I knew to ask prayed. For success. For peace. For calm up to and through the procedure. I spent two days in my camper, pleading with God to show me how to let go of fear and anxiety and the answer He gave me was so simple. “Give it to me.” So, here’s what I did.

The night before the procedure, I wore my Bluetooth noise cancelling headphones that I wear when I mow. I connected them to my iPad and listened to the soundtrack I always use when I write…a crackling campfire in a thunderstorm. I closed my eyes and let the sound transport me to a beautiful campground in the woods, on top of a mountain. You know how I ask Jesus to go for a walk with me? Well, this time I asked him to go camping with me.

We sat around the campfire…sometimes chatting, sometimes still. Every time I had a thought that might send me down the rabbit hole, I tossed it over to Jesus. He caught it deftly with one hand and tossed it in the fire where we would watch the sudden burst of sparks fly up into the night sky. Then…we’d laugh and laugh at how silly those thoughts were. How insignificant, really…in the grand scheme of things. Because, if you think about it…they are thoughts. Thoughts cannot kill you on their own. This was an incredibly powerful visualization and I felt ZERO anxiety leading up to, and even laying on the table having the procedure.

I was awake…sort of. I knew everything that was going on. I had to be awake enough to follow directions like “Hold your breath” and “Turn your head.” I could feel the catheter in the veins in my chest and neck. Sometimes it tickled. Sometimes it sounded like little bubbles. It was fascinating. They made a small incision in my upper thigh and threaded the catheter through there. Then they threaded it to different veins in my upper chest and neck.

Picture a large creek. Upstream, there are a lot of tributaries. What we want to do is walk up each tributary, throw a line in the water, and see if we can catch a fish. But not just any fish. We want the big kahoona. What the catheter did was stick its nose in the mouth of each “creek” to try to sniff out where the big fish is camping. What the doctor wants to see is a BIG number in one of the tributaries. That indicates there’s a bad gland up that stream. They take an outline of the heart and the twelve veins they took the samples from and write the numbers on the corresponding vein on the drawing. Then, the surgeon can see which vein is dumping buckets of parathyroid hormone. He can follow that vein and, ostensibly, hit the mother lode and get that bad boy out of there!

I cannot make heads nor tails of the numbers, however…I know we are looking for one BIG one. And there was…ONE big one! So, now I’m praying that means they can find the offending gland, take it out, and cure me of this disease that has been robbing so much of my joy the last four years.

The doctor came in after the procedure and remarked how incredibly calm I was. When I saw him in consult…I was a nervous Nelly. I asked him if he wanted to know my secret. He did. So I told him about camping with Jesus. He listened intently. We finished up and as he left the room, he told me what a pleasure it was to work with me and Mr. FixIt. Then, he looked back around and thanked me for telling him about the visualization I used. He said he was going to try it himself. I love that!

You never know whose life you are going to touch and under what circumstance. Just know that I am so incredibly grateful to have yet another opportunity to tell you how Jesus works in my life. He amazes me…every time!

And, here it is…the last day of 2021. Much like the second year after the loss of a loved one, 2021 was harder than 2020. We kinda went into the pandemic thinking we’d knock this out of the park in two or three months…maybe a little more. We couldn’t have believed at the time that it would just get worse…and worse. But there were gems in the flames, as there always are. Science brought us a vaccine and medicines to help. There have been many, many good things that occurred mixed in with the bad. We just have to look for and focus on them. And do our best to ease the burden of the medical community. The gal who checked me in yesterday said she had already had four front desk employees call in sick.

“Omicron is no joke” she said.

Here’s to a Happy, HEALTHY New Year for us all! Might I just caution you to open the door slowly and peak in? Don’t threaten 2022 with a haughty attitude of “Bring it on!” Let’s just tip toe in quietly and try not to wake it up or tick it off too bad…ok? Thanks!

See ya next year!!!

❄️

“Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours.”
Mark 11:24 ESV

Big Lights in the Big City

Thu, 30 Dec 2021 02:30:00 -0600

Oh, my…I have to say, it was wonderful sleeping in the camper Wednesday night! Rain…from torrential downpour to gentle tapping, I was treated to nature’s lullaby most of the night. I had the heat adjusted perfectly. Just enough to keep the chill off my arms but not so much that I felt heat blowing in my face. I hate that. And the electric blanket was so nice turned on low…keeping my tootsies toasty.

I read and prayed…and read and prayed some more. Recognizing that the part of me that gets anxious isn’t ME…it’s just a part of me that’s been conditioned to respond to uncertainty with anxiety. Just knowing I can say, “Back off! You’re not the boss of me!” Let’s just say, I awoke with a peace beyond all understanding. All day, if there was the slightest thought that might send me down the rabbit hole, I handed it over to God and thanked Him for carrying it for me.

As I write this, I’m amazed and so pleasantly surprised. Excited, really. Now I want to see how it works on every situation. Do I think I’m never going to experience fear and anxiety again? Of course not. That would be unrealistic. But, I’m not looking for it. And I have a brand new Power Tool in my tool box for beating back that particular monster. I’ll just believe Jesus carries this for me. Therefore, He does. So much simpler than I ever dreamed.

We had a lovely drive to the big city. I had reserved a hotel room, but when I checked in, I asked if there were suites with a door separating the bedroom from the living room. That way, Mr. FixIt’s television viewing would not intrude on my indulgent self care routine. I hooked up my Bluetooth Headset and listened to my favorite background track…a crackling fire with a thunderstorm. After a hot shower, scented lotion, and new PJ’s…that set the stage for a relaxing slumber. I want to be calm and well rested for the day ahead of me.

If prayer is your thing, I’d love for you to send up some for me and Mr. FixIt this morning. I should be done by around noon or 1:00. Thank you all for being here and always being so loving and supportive. I do so appreciate every single one of you!

❄️

“do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”
Philippians 4:6-7 ESV

Guardian Angels and Rainstorms

Fri, 20 Aug 2021 01:30:00 -0600

We’ve had an incredible amount of rain in the last week after going through a prolonged dry spell. It’s been a blessed relief but that doesn’t make driving in it very pleasant. When I towed Birdie down to Huntington on Tuesday, I drove through a steady rain till I was nearly at my destination. I took my time, did not use cruise control, and never went over 55mph…60 at the most.

We lost a fellow classmate a few weeks ago to a tragic car accident. I went all through school with Cheryl, though I didn’t know her terribly well. We ran in different circles. Still, when I learned the circumstances of her accident, it haunted me for a while. There were so many similarities. Cheryl was a fairly new widow, getting back out into the world, and was traveling alone when a semi lost control. She must have been passing him or was driving in a lane adjacent to him, because the weight and power of the tractor trailer pushed Cheryl through a guard rail, across the median, and into oncoming traffic. She didn’t stand a chance and we were all devastated by her sudden loss. (Correction, Cheryl was driving in the oncoming traffic and was hit head on by the semi. Still, a car was pushed through the guardrail by a semi with the same tragic results.)

As I drove north through the storm coming home yesterday, I was driving cautiously. The rain wasn’t too bad in the beginning. I started to pass a semi and felt this chill. I thought of Cheryl and her accident. I moved back in behind the big truck. Where he and the rest of the traffic kept up their pace, I slowed way down. It wasn’t too much further and the skies opened up. The kind of downpour where the windshield wipers cannot keep up. More and more cars pulled over on the shoulder and turned on their emergency flashers. I turned mine on, too…but I kept driving. I’m too afraid to stop on the side of the road when visibility is poor. I’d rather drive in the center lane with my flashers on and stay far enough back that I can stop, but not so far back that I can’t see.

Suddenly, brake lights started lighting up ahead of me and I slowed down to a crawl. There, in the sound bound lanes, was a semi…jackknifed. At first, I thought he must have been heading south, but I later learned on the news…he was traveling north, went through the guardrail, and was turned completely around. Just like what happened to Cheryl. Two people were sent to the hospital and as far as I know there were no fatalities. But, I know as well as I know my own name…my guardian angel told me to slow down and not to pass the semi in the rain. She was working overtime yesterday.

Every time I get behind the wheel, I wrap my hand around a wooden cross that I have hanging from my rear view mirror. I have no idea where that cross came from. It just showed up one day out at the farm. It was on my grandma’s dresser one morning so I picked it up and hung it in my truck. I wrap my hand around that cross at the beginning of every trip and ask God to keep us all safe as we travel that day. When I saw that wrecked semi, I wrapped my hand around the cross again and thanked God for protecting me.

I soon outran the storm and by the time I got home, it was back to a gentle drizzle. I called the RV dealership and they said Birdie will be ready by late this afternoon. I’ve decided to go back down to get her today, tow her to a local campground, and stay overnight near the dealership in case anything shows up that I need to get fixed while I’m down there. If all goes well, I’ll tow her back home tomorrow and we can start packing up for the big trip.

I went to Menard’s when I was in Barboursville yesterday and picked up some storage containers that I think might work well. I’ll try them out at the campground tonight. That way, if they don’t fit right, I can return them while I’m still in the area. With all this running around, it’s hard to believe I’ve actually had more restful sleep in the last three days than I’ve had in quite a while. I guess, going full speed ahead wore me out enough to make me sleep soundly.

“For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways. On their hands they will bear you up, lest you strike your foot against a stone.”
Psalm 91:11-12 ESV

Another Mystery Explored

Thu, 22 Jul 2021 01:30:00 -0600

In my self-imposed “retreat” out in TOW-Wanda, I’ve been reading a lot of devotionals. About fear and anxiety. About family and strength. About marriage. Whenever I feel I’m heading off center, I like to step back and do a little inventory and a lot of soul searching to find those areas where God wants to improve me. I’ve learned, if you ask to be shown…you WILL be shown. And, it isn’t sugar-coated, believe me.

One of the devotionals I read in the last week (I’m sorry, I can’t remember which one it was…I forgot to make a note) talked a lot about speaking to the Holy Spirit and asking for His help. I have to tell you, the Holy Spirit has been a total mystery to me. I mean, I have some understanding that it is the Spirit of God that is gifted to you when you become a Christian. It is the Holy Spirit which gives you that “gut feeling” called intuition when you are in a pickle. This way or that way? It had never occurred to me I could actually pray to and speak to the Holy Spirit.

I read about this Wednesday morning just before I went to town to get my blood drawn. I used to have veins like the Alaska Pipeline, but as I get older, they have gotten thready and small. They roll and blow up. And, unless you are extremely good at drawing blood, I am fast becoming a human pincushion. Since I actually spent several years of my life drawing blood, I’m the worst about it. I’m bossy. I tell them exactly where and how they can find a vein. I can tell when the phlebotomist cops an attitude like, “Yeah, yeah…I’ll prove to you I can get it where I want.” Nope. Here, or here. You aren’t an explorer and I’m not the buried treasure you think you’re going to find.

And…it always hurts like a bugger when they stick you in the wrist or the back of the hand.

I know you are not supposed to test the Lord. But, I’d just read that I could actually pray to the Holy Spirit…the guy who gives you strength when things are really rough. So, just before the gal stuck me with that teeny tiny needle, I said a quick prayer.

“Spirit of God…please make this as pain free as possible…and humble me before this technologist.”

Pain free.

I mean…nothing. Not even a little pinch.

I breathed a thank you. I felt a peaceful calmness. And I proclaimed it National Linda Day!

Life is really a lot of experimentation where we try to do things our way. Life is a lot better when you surrender that ego and move over. Even in such a little thing as drawing blood, God sends His Spirit to minister to you.

You just need to remember to ask.

I’m looking forward to developing an even deeper relationship with God through this new avenue of prayer.

“When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth, for he will not speak on his own authority, but whatever he hears he will speak, and he will declare to you the things that are to come. He will glorify me, for he will take what is mine and declare it to you. All that the Father has is mine; therefore I said that he will take what is mine and declare it to you.”
John 16:13-15 ESV

Prayers Answered...Thank You!

Fri, 21 May 2021 01:30:00 -0600

My Salvaged Shelf from Mr. FixIt

I was so relieved when I got to talk to my brother last evening. He sounded so much stronger. He really wanted to go home yesterday, but the doctor wanted to keep him one more night and watch his kidneys. He’s not a big water drinker, so it’s going to be a challenge encouraging his intake. I think avoiding the hospital might be a big motivator! He did really well, he was well cared for, and Daughter #1 visited him twice. Thank you all for your prayers...we felt every one.

Now that the farm has sold, there’s very little I need to bring home...maybe two trips. It was such a lovely evening we decided to hop in the truck, stop for a cold bottle of pop, and go for a drive with the windows down. It was the perfect temperature and letting the wind blow through my hair, the smell of the woods and newly mown hay fields, and a peace in my heart made for a soothing ride. We ran into Charlotte as we were pulling into the drive so she pulled in after us and chatted for a while. She was also excited about the new owners of the farm. We didn’t stay too long, but on our way out of the drive, we stopped and visited with the neighbor across the road and told him of his new neighbors. Everyone is really happy because Frank and Beans are the nicest couple you’d want to meet.

Grandma’s Apron and a Quilt from a Dear Friend

I spent the day working on my next projects. I’ve been wanting a shelving unit for my jars of home canned produce so I don’t have to take it all downstairs. With covid, we didn’t have people coming into the house for visits, so all those beautiful jars of food just sat on the dining room table. I wanted them to be where I could see them...because they are so pretty to look at. Mr. FixIt was moving things around in the building the other day and found a tall bookcase that wasn’t too deep for the spot I wanted to put it. He cleaned it up, oiled the wood, and painted a thin board to nail to the back. We cleared out the hallway to the front door we never use, and place the bookcase in such a way it wouldn’t impede egress should we need to escape out that way. It looks perfect!

Yellow Iris at the Ponderosa

The next step is going through the things we moved into the office when they put the carpet down. I don’t want all that “stuff” out in the family room cluttering it up. We put the wooden rocking chairs out on the front porch. And I’ve been going through bags and boxes, creating a bag of papers that I need to shred. These jobs are things we all do, and sometimes they get pushed to the burner one to many times. Then we just have to break down and get them done.

Grandma’s Rhododendron

I have a goal. The girls will be here June 25th. I want this whole floor of the house cleaned and organized. Our daughter and son-in-law are coming out tomorrow to help. The boys will finish up the electric line to the deck and us girls will work on the bedrooms. I don’t want to just move things from one place to another. I want to clear out things. I read somewhere...cleaning things out means to touch it once. You either put it in its place, or you haul it out the door. I vote for hauling a LOT out the door!

A Quilt I Painted

So, as I write this, I’m breathing a lot easier. I will feel even better when my brother gets home safe and sound. He still has a three hour ride home today after they discharge him from the hospital. We are SO blessed by the staff in the program he is a client with. They truly go above and beyond to care for people and I love them for that. It takes a great load off my shoulders to know he is so well loved.

“Be sincere in your love for others. Hate everything that is evil and hold tight to everything that is good. Love each other as brothers and sisters and honor others more than you do yourself.”
Romans 12:9-10 CEV

Prayers for my Bubby

Thu, 20 May 2021 01:30:00 -0600

When it rains, it pours. You all have heard me talk about my Bubby. He has a developmental disability and cerebral palsy and I’ve always been his biggest fan. He lived at home with our mom all his life and when she passed rather suddenly in January of 2004, he wanted to come live near me. He was accepted into a wonderful program for assisting adults like him and has lived in one of their homes in as independent a setting as he can attain. He has a roommate and they do their own shopping and cook their own meals, take their own medicines, and work at their own jobs.

The year of Covid took a lot out of my brother. His stamina deteriorated but his mind stayed the same. When he had the opportunity to go on a group trip with a company who takes developmentally delayed adults on vacation, he jumped at the chance to go. He’s done a couple of other trips with them...one to Hawaii and the other on a cruise to Catalina Island and down into Mexico. Unfortunately, people like Gary often don’t live as long as the rest of us. They get frail sooner, and their health fails, yet their minds and hearts think they’re much younger.

Bubby was supposed to leave for Las Vegas yesterday morning, but he got sick during the night, and ended up in the hospital. They are taking good care of him, and Daughter #1 went to see him after work. She set up a video chat with him and I got to see him for myself. He looked so tired and weak and frail. It just broke my heart.

I have to give big kudos to his case worker who stayed by his side in Denver all day yesterday, even though he was asleep most of the time. She texted and called me frequently to keep me in the loop and went above and beyond. Thank you SO much, Melissa...you are awesome! She even called last night when she got home from Denver just to check in and see how he is doing. The staff nurse from his facility will go down today and bring him home if they discharge him. And, Daughter #1 is prepared to go back for a visit if he has to stay.

I knew making the choice to live here, there would be times when I wouldn’t be able to sit with a sick loved one at a moment’s notice. I knew I would miss out on milestones with my children and grandchildren. But, I also knew...for my own mental health...I needed to take this opportunity to live in my beloved home state. If I hadn’t have, I may have regretted if for the rest of my life. My mind is healthier here. My heart is happier. And if it weren’t for the pandemic, i would have been in Colorado a few weeks last year. I’ll just have to make up for it this year.

Please pray for my sweet brother, that his kidneys work perfectly, that he can increase his fluid intake, and regain his strength so he can come home from the hospital. He is my hero...my heart.

What a week...and it was only Wednesday.

???

“Please help us by praying for us. Then many people will give thanks for the blessings we receive in answer to all these prayers.”
2 Corinthians 1:11 CEV

Prayers and Miracles and Grace

Wed, 07 Apr 2021 01:30:00 -0600

I’ve been posting the Sunday Evening Prayer Circle for a few years now. I love that we can come together and pray for each other and lift those in need. Prayer is so powerful and helps everyone involved...pray-er and pray-ee. I also post from time to time when there is urgent prayer needed and I appreciate every single one of you that take the time to pray with me.

We don’t always get an update on these prayer requests and today I wanted to share a couple with you.

A few weeks ago, I asked for prayers for my friend Janine’s niece, Lauren. She had a brain bleed the day before her due date. After the subsequent surgery, she had a massive brain stem stroke that left her with “locked in syndrome.” This is where the patient has full mental faculties, but their body is totally paralyzed. She knows what’s going on, but can’t speak or move. Lauren was moved to a specialty rehabilitation hospital in Chicago when she stabilized. After intense therapies, she can now nod her head up and down, her vocal cords are waking up, and she can moved her left foot a little. This is HUGE, considering the prognosis and the family covets your continued prayers as Lauren works hard to come back to her husband and little baby girl.

Monday evening, I posted an urgent prayer request for my dear friend Sharon’s grandson Kyle. He was in a car accident where both vehicles rolled. Fortunately, Kyle and his friend were wearing seatbelts. His friend was able to scramble out of the car, but Kyle was stuck and unconscious. He was life-flighted to National Children’s Hospital in Columbus. He had severe lacerations to his scalp and was sedated and intubated in ICU. He drifted in and out of consciousness, and finally came around enough that the breathing tubes could be removed. He remained in ICU so they could monitor his brain function. Then, yesterday morning, Kyle was sitting up, wide awake in a recliner. No broken bones, no internal injuries, no brain damage! He was discharged home by last evening.

You cannot tell me that God isn’t still in the miracle business. There was every reason to believe either one of these cases could have ended very differently. I know the families of both of these young people, and I know God will use these difficult times for His Glory. I just wanted to take a moment and let you know how your prayers have helped people in real time.

Thank you so much for being here and always being ready to lift up those in need!

“Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours.”
Mark 11:24 ESV

Day 334: Throwing Out a Lifeline

Sat, 13 Feb 2021 02:30:00 -0600

Sometimes we lose our moorings. We become untethered and bound about, endlessly bouncing from one disaster to the next...wondering if life will every slow down. Just a little. Just enough to catch our breath. We bob and weave like a buoy....broken away and tossed on the waves...no way to be saved. Or to save others.

I’ve been cut loose like that from time to time. And, in the depths of my loss, something happens that reels me back in and makes me feel calmer, more anchored. I know it’s often my own prayers that bring me back to God...to my source of peace and comfort. But, it occurred to me last night as I was meditating on this topic...sometimes it’s the prayers of others that bring us back.

As I scanned the last week, there have been so many opportunities for me to pray. Some for myself, for sure. But many, many opportunities to pray for others. The other night, a sweet friend from my little town in Colorado texted to tell me we had lost a very dear man...a friend to all. A quiet man with a fierce love for life. A talented actor. An adventurer. A sweet spirit.

I last chatted with him a week or so ago. He had survived his second bout of cancer and the scans were clear, he said. He had to come home from Asia where he’s lived for several years so he could get his cancer treatments. He had to leave his love there, because it’s very difficult to get a visa. They’ve worked at it for the better part of three years, and finally it was granted. She was packed and on her way to join him. He was to pick her up at the airport today. Instead, they had to contact her at the airport to tell her...he had died in his sleep the night before.

Of all the sadness and anger and ugly things that have happened in the last year...that broke me. I know sudden loss. I understand the gut punch a snatch death brings. But, to finally be on her way, then.... I’m heartbroken for her...and I have never met her. So, I pray for her and I hold her in my heart. And I throw her a line.

My friend Kate has been widowed not quite four months. She is still learning to navigate this with teenaged twins. Hers was also a snatch death...a heart attack...just exactly like Mr. Virgo. She’s going through the same things I did....the anger, the fear, the guilt. And, just when she landed a dream job, a horrific ice storm is felling trees and branches all over her acreage. So far, it hasn’t damaged her house too much, but there’s four more days to go through this storm. So, I pray for her and I hold her in my heart. And I throw her a line.

My friend Janine has a niece who just had her first baby...right in the middle of a debilitating brain bleed and resulting surgery and things are scary...sort of touch and go. The family is beside themselves and praying harder than they ever have. So, I pray for her and I hold her in my heart. And I throw her a line.

God gives me an endless supply of lifelines to throw out to people in the form of prayer. When I throw that line out to someone, it sticks to them...whether they know it or not...whether they feel it or not. Then God picks up the other end of the line and takes it from there.

Just as I sat down to write this, a Silver Alert came across my phone. I looked down at the face of the middle aged man and I recognized in him a developmental disability...much like my own brother, and my sweet Uncle Bob who is gone with Jesus now. This man is lost somewhere and it is frightfully cold. He doesn’t have a warm winter coat on...only a hooded sweatshirt. This breaks me even more. There...but for the Grace of God. That could have been my brother. I am overcome with gratitude that he has always been loved and cared for and the people with whom we have entrusted his care are so good to him.

So...I pray for them all...I hold them in my heart. Then I throw them a line.

“Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous person is powerful and effective.”
James 5:16 NIV

Day 330: God is Listening...All the Time

Tue, 09 Feb 2021 02:30:00 -0600

Yesterday was a busy day, and one that reminds me of the power of prayer. First, I had to run into town to get my eyes tested. I have the very beginnings of cataracts...who doesn’t at this age, right? And, my prescription didn’t change but just the tiniest bit. Not enough to warrant buying new glasses, but I did order a pair of prescription bifocal sunglasses. I haven’t had a pair for ages. The last ones I had got ruined when I sprayed insect repellent or sunscreen or something on and it got on the lenses. It took the coating off and there was no way to fix them. And they were really expensive. Mr. FixIt buys his glasses from Zenni Optical online. You have to explain to your optometrist that you’re on a fixed budget and you need to have them give you your prescription and measure the pupil distance. Then you can order online and it’s a lot cheaper.

I got home in time for a Zoom interview for my friend, Joe Webb’s podcast. Joe is a Methodist Minister and leads a very interesting ministry. I used to attend on Sunday nights at the brew pub up in Marietta, Ohio. Then they went totally online after the pandemic hit. The folks love the online format so much, they’ve elected to keep it on Zoom which opens a lot of avenues. The group has gotten larger and has spread over a much larger geographical area. I spoke to his group a couple of times over the years, but it’s been quite a while since we’ve had a chance to catch up. It will go live on 3/5 and I will leave a link for you when it’s up.

I no sooner closed my iPad from the Zoom interview when my friend Janine called with an update on her niece. She is the one I asked for urgent prayers for Sunday night. She did have an aneurysm with a brain bleed. They did surgery to relieve the pressure, but it was too involved to fix. They needed to do a C-Section to get the baby delivered healthy first. The baby is fine and will go home with grandma and grandpa tomorrow. At 3:00 yesterday morning, Lauren had to be rushed back into the OR to relieve the pressure again, but this time, they didn’t feel she was strong enough to go through the prolonged surgery so it was put off again.

After people all over the world came together urgently and prayed for Lauren and she was back in ICU, her husband went in to see her yesterday morning and...she opened her eyes, talked to him, and has NO PARALYSIS! That right there is an absolute miracle, my friends. I could hardly wait to share the news with you. She still needs to have the surgery to correct the aneurysm itself, but she has come so far! Please continue to keep Lauren, and Josh, and baby, and the family in your prayers.

““Unless you people see signs and wonders,” Jesus told him, “you will never believe.””
John 4:48 NIV

Day 271: A Day in Chemical Valley

Thu, 10 Dec 2020 02:30:00 -0600

I grew up five blocks from the Ohio River. The soundtrack of my life was the constant background noise of heavily laden trains and tugboats pushing barges up and down the river. Their cargo varied from coal to sand and gravel to gasoline and chemicals. Honestly, you never knew what dangers lurked just a few blocks away when you lay sleeping in your bed on those hot summer nights. The toots of the barges signaling the locks...the locks signaling back when it was ok to move forward.

Union Carbide, Bayer, Shell, Corning, Marbon, Viscose, DuPont, Johns Manville...all were as familiar to us as Wonder Bread and Borden’s. We didn’t think anything of it. These chemical, plastics, glass, and petroleum plants were our bread and butter. Like the coal fields of southern West Virginia and the steel mills up north, big chemical plants ruled the Mid-Ohio Valley. If our parents didn’t work there, we knew someone who did.

Occasionally there would be an accident or a fire or a chemical spill at one of the local plants. But, before the EPA taught us the dangers of some of the things in our very backyards, we really never gave it too much thought. It was part and parcel of life here. I remember in grade school when the father of one of my classmates was killed at DuPont. It struck us on many levels. First, it taught us that parents can die. Second, it meant some jobs were dangerous. And, it gave us our first taste of death.

If you saw the documentary Dark Waters, you get an idea of the reckoning between big polluters and the little people who worked for them. DuPont worked with a chemical called C8 that leaked into the ground water all around where I grew up and caused cancers, deformed fetuses, and deaths. The people eventually won a settlement, but money is never enough to rectify a situation like that. Extremely expensive filtration systems have been installed to allow the drinking water from the aquifer below us to be potable because...C8 is a “forever chemical”. It will never break down and is here to stay.

They don’t use C8 anymore. One of my friends spent his entire career working for DuPont...the last several years in a lab trying to come up with a C8 substitute but they were still not successful when he retired. DuPont sold out to a French company called Chemours who subsequently sublease their facilities to other companies manufacturing any number of products.

Tuesday night at 10:00, when people were settling down to watch a little TV before bed, a loud explosion rocked the small communities surrounding the Chemours plant in Belle, West Virginia just south of Charleston...about a hundred miles from the Ponderosa. Amazingly, only four people were injured...one of whom died yesterday at an area hospital. A young man in his 30’s with a family won’t be home for Christmas...or any other holiday. Things are a lot cleaner now and much safer, but still...accidents happen. There’s still a much higher level of cancer here than most places.

West Virginia is a beautiful state. But the wealthy robber barons have continually raped my home state of her natural resources and left her permanently scarred and polluted. The price of progress? Or the “taking advantage” of simple Appalachians trying to get by the best they can? We were resource rich and education poor and it’s hard to complain when “The Man” was putting the bread in your children’s bellies.

I’ll never forget the time I flew into the Charleston Airport one summer. We were approaching from the south...not the way I commonly arrived. I looked out the window of the plane and the tops of the mountains...MY MOUNTAINS...were just...GONE! They were shaved off the top in a new, quicker, cheaper method of strip mining. The landscape has been permanently altered. Farmland that’s been handed down from generation to generation has wide, treeless paths cut through virgin timber to allow gas and oil pipelines to pass through. It breaks my heart and makes me sick.

All in the name of fossil fuels. Large, gas-guzzling SUV’s. Mr. FixIt and I contribute with our two pickup trucks so I can’t even complain. I pray for a cleaner world and for some way for my fellow Mountaineers to make a living once the switch is made. We have to do something more than pray. We have to change. And change doesn’t come easy, so I’ve found.

““ ‘Do not pollute the land where you are. Bloodshed pollutes the land, and atonement cannot be made for the land on which blood has been shed, except by the blood of the one who shed it. Do not defile the land where you live and where I dwell, for I, the Lord, dwell among the Israelites.’ ””
Numbers 35:33-34 NIV

Day 214: Practicing Saying “No, Thank You” and “Yes, Please”

Tue, 13 Oct 2020 01:30:00 -0600

It never fails. I can just about bank on the fact that one of the first days after my arrival in a new place, I’m going to be sick. I have one of those “issues” that you cannot see, but it greatly affects my ability to switch to different locales. I have IBS...Irritable Bowel Syndrome. I was diagnosed when I was a teenager. It waxes and wanes, and if there is the least bit of anxiety involved in the mix, it amps the situation beyond mere discomfort. It’s stirred up by eating different foods than I am used to and the stress of travel.

Well, that was yesterday. I was especially worried because my stepson and his family are here with us and the last thing I wanted to do was fink out on them. I also know, feeling guilty adds to the whole situation. I needn’t have worried. They love me...they understand...and they are pretty self-sufficient travelers. I sent Mr. FixIt along with them to the beach to fish all afternoon and I stayed at the condo and relaxed. That did more for me than a day in the heat and humidity would have. And, I practiced saying no. That has never been an easy thing for me to do, but I’m getting better at it when I need to.

When the family came home, we went to see the sunset, we came back to the condo and fixed supper together and sat out on the big deck, then the guys and I walked down to the beach to see the ghost crabs skittering across the sand. The temperature was perfect...73 with the marine layer rolling in. While it wasn’t exactly what I would have envisioned for my day, it was really fine and ended well.

Today is our second wedding anniversary! My, that time has flown by and so much has happened! Happy Anniversary, Mr. FixIt!!!

❤️

“He is the Maker of heaven and earth, the sea, and everything in them— he remains faithful forever.”
Psalms 146:6 NIV

Day 145: Steadfast Through the Storms

Mon, 10 Aug 2020 01:30:00 -0600

Let’s face it...2020 has been a year of storms. Every single day, we see something incredulous...something unimaginable...something so unbelievable our minds can begin to be numbed by it all. I don’t even need to write out the list, but who in their right mind would have thought up murder hornets and zombie cicadas...let alone all the other stuff?

I was feeling a little overwhelmed by it all this last week. I found peace in my garden and on my walks with Jesus. Then I would look at the news again and it would be another awful thing. Balancing between informed citizen and sensory overload is getting more and more challenging. Then, Mr. FixIt and I sat down to enjoy online church yesterday. Like He always does, the Holy Spirit brought me exactly the sermon I needed to hear.

Pastor Heather spoke about weathering the storms of life. We are always guaranteed to have storms and more often than not, they come out of nowhere and we can be caught off guard. She happened to be on vacation last week with her family and there happened to be a hurricane come right through Myrtle Beach. She noticed the palm trees swaying in the fury of the winds, yet they were never uprooted or broken. It reminded her of the first few verses of Psalms.

Those who turn away from evil advice and don’t follow sinners or sneer at God find happiness in the teaching of the Lord, and they think about it day and night. It goes on to say they are like trees planted by a stream where they get their nourishment. This is what I want to be. A sturdy tree planted by the living waters where I can get my peace from the source. God tells us over and over the way to happiness.

When I first started writing this blog, I promised God if he would bring me the words, I would tell my readers where I find my peace. It is so terribly easy to be reactionary in this political climate. The other day I wrote a reactionary post that I not only didn’t give much thought to, but I also didn’t research it first. My sweet friend Jackie responded with a gentle correction. I so appreciated that. It didn’t escalate. It just suggested I “listen”. Action versus reaction.

A good lesson for us all.

❤️

“God blesses those people who refuse evil advice and won't follow sinners or join in sneering at God. Instead, they find happiness in the Teaching of the Lord, and they think about it day and night. They are like trees growing beside a stream, trees that produce fruit in season and always have leaves. Those people succeed in everything they do.”
Psalms 1:1-3 CEV

Day 142: Having Trouble Feeling Good?

Fri, 07 Aug 2020 01:30:00 -0600

It’s “Feel Good Friday” and I don’t know about you, but...it could get pretty frustrating looking around this dark world for something to feel good about. I gave this week’s edition of FGF a good, hard look yesterday. I usually search the internet for some story or video that tells of some heart warming thing someone has done. That’s all well and good, but it wasn’t working for me yesterday. So, I do what I always do when I need a little inspiration. I went for a walk with Jesus.

First, we went out into the garden and looked at the abundance of tomatoes that are coming on. There’s zucchini and yellow crookneck squash, green onions and peppers, pumpkins and Passion Flowers. The honeysuckle clings to the fence along the back of the yard and brambles of wild black raspberries tangle in the corner over the rhubarb. Sumac and wild grape vines threaten to shade the garden as they compete with pokeweed and Virginia Creeper. I felt the stress in my shoulders begin to ease.

I gave the plants a good drink and took off for a walk around the far field. I saw a hole out there when I was mowing this week and I wanted to check it out. As I ambled across the fresh mown grass, I asked Jesus to give me something to feel good about. I let my mind go blank as I strolled and took in the sights and smells of the pasture. I let myself feel the gratitude for the beauty of this place Mr. FixIt has so generously shared with me. I started humming softly to myself.

“I’ll Fly Away” started drifting around in my mind. Not just any version either. It was the Stanley Brothers bluegrass gospel version. It was on their album “Good Old Camp Meeting Songs” and was recorded in May 1962...the month before I turned nine years old. In an instant, I was back in the front yard of Grandma’s house out at the farm, a quart jar in my hands, catching lightning bugs. Grandma and PopPop were inside with the Grand Ole Opry on...cranked up high...and Ralph and Carter Stanley were singing “I’ll Fly Away”.

My heart smiled.

A few years ago, I met a lovely young woman named Rachel. She plays the guitar and sings in her church and I had the pleasure of singing with her at a few gatherings when I was staying in my camper up at the river. We harmonized really well together and sang several of the old timey gospel hymns. It’s a precious memory I will always keep close.

I continued my walk and peeked at the progress on the neighboring property as they clear some ground. As I was coming back down the road, I saw Mr. FixIt out looking for me in the field. The cat keeps losing her breakaway collars and he was hoping to find the one he bought her yesterday. No luck.

I came in to write this, opened Facebook, and the first person I saw on my feed was...Rachel! My heart smiled big! I searched for, and listened to, some of Ralph Stanley’s great bluegrass gospel and found this album. So, this is today’s treat for “Feel Good Friday.” If this doesn’t make you feel good, I don’t know what will!

The Stanley Brothers - Good Old Camp Meeting Songs

Love you all. Take care of yourselves...and each other.

❤️

“speaking to one another with psalms, hymns, and songs from the Spirit. Sing and make music from your heart to the Lord, always giving thanks to God the Father for everything, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.”

Ephesians 5:19-20 NIV

#GospelMusic, #StanleyBrothers, #Hymns

Day 105: Correcting Course

Tue, 30 Jun 2020 01:30:00 -0600

Ugh...yesterday was Monday.....ALL day. It was one of those days when nothing I touched worked right. I went out for a walk around the property before breakfast. The oats were done and Mr. FixIt couldn’t find me. I could hear him yelling that breakfast was ready, but he couldn’t hear me because the air conditioning unit was running. I walked up to the house, went in, and sat down at the bar in the kitchen. I thought maybe he had gone around front so I sat and waited. All of a sudden, I heard him yelling in the bedroom and scared me half to death. He was yelling out the bedroom window for me and I thought he’d fallen or something. Oy.

After breakfast, I made my sourdough starter and it just didn’t look quite right, but I went ahead and mixed up the dough. While it was raising, I got on the computer to do my banking. The internet went out. I got tech support on live chat. Well, ok...I was #3 in the queue. After more than two hours of futzing around with that, they had to schedule a technician to come visit. Oy, again.

I finally got the dough to a place where I could let it rise on its own and Mr. FixIt decided he wanted a hamburger for supper. I thought we would go to the little shop in our little town and get some burger. No...he wanted a real burger. We couldn’t decide where to get one so I took matters into my own hands and when we got there...thirty miles away...the joint was closed. Argh!

We went to Lowe’s and bought light bulbs for over the sink. They didn’t have the bright white...only the cool white. We got home and Mr. FixIt couldn’t work over his head and he knocked down my flying pig that hangs in the window. It broke and I was done. I climbed up on a stool and fixed both lights.

It was time to put the bread in to bake, and...I have no idea what I did wrong, but it was wet and soupy and wouldn’t hold together. There wasn’t anything else I could do with it. The starter wasn’t really strong and I was at the end of its fermentation, so there was no recovering it. I ended up dumping it in the trash. I’m sure I could have done something with it, but I didn’t have anything left in me to try.

I am very familiar with days like this...and I know what causes them. I have been so busy trying to keep everything up around here that I have slacked on in the one thing I know better than to slack off in. I haven’t been keeping up with my devotionals nor have I been spending enough time in the Word. I can always tell when I have veered off course. It’s like being in a row boat in a storm...with no oars and no rudder. I just get tossed about and all I want to do is cry.

So, I made an executive decision. I have an appointment in town today. One quick appointment and a stop for gas. Mr. FixIt has two appointments. He cannot come into mine. And I can’t go into his. We would have to sit in the truck and wait for the other in ninety degree heat. I have hardly had a moment to myself since February. I told Mr. FixIt I would go into my appointment on my own, and he can do his. He’s been doing a little driving here and there and his balance seems to be much better. I’m sure he’ll be fine.

Just knowing I can have some time to spend with God...all on my own...made my spirits pick up. I know I tell you all the time...”You cannot fill someone else’s cup if yours is empty.” But, it’s a whole lot easier to tell someone else than it is to follow my own advice!

I’ll just leave that long Monday alone now and learn from the lesson it taught me.

Peace, be still.

❤️

“But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.”
Matthew 6:33-34 NIV

Day 104: A Day of Introspection & Praying for Karen

Mon, 29 Jun 2020 01:30:00 -0600

I finished all the mowing on Saturday so I didn’t have anything on my schedule but online church yesterday. I puttered around in the garden. I watered all the tomato plants with the epsom salt solution. I trimmed some wild growth along the back fence that’s threatening the garden with too much shade. There’s a deer wandering around with a bum leg and I checked on her. She seems to be eating and getting to the water in the creek ok so I’m just going to watch her for awhile. I fed the sourdough starter and made a great supper. We ate out on the deck which was lovely. Then took a long walk around the property. I wanted to show Mr. FixIt a fruit tree I found along the edge of the field. It looks like a peach. Or maybe a cherry. No fruit, though.

I watched CBS Sunday Morning yesterday with my coffee. They did a story on the memes that have been out about the “Karens” of the world...typically white middle-aged housewives who are prone to ask to speak to the manager. I’ve worked in hospitality and in medicine and lived near Aspen for years. I’m quite familiar with the type of privilege this embodies.

I wondered where they would take this with the videos of women (and men) behaving badly and I was glad to see the turn it took at the end. My job at the hotels I worked at was to deal with disgruntled guests. Disgruntled guests who had dropped a bundle of money to stay where they were staying. I myself have had to speak to managers before, but I can guarantee I never threw a hissy fit the likes of which would scare any preschooler straight.

It’s difficult to deal with this kind of person in general. Back when I dealt with them, cell phones with video cameras weren’t around yet. I can imagine seeing someone tape you acting a fool is comparable to throwing gasoline on an open flame. Do we really think trying to shame them by splashing their less than flattering behaviors all over the internet is going to change them? Or is it just bringing us down to their level using their meltdown for some sort of amusement...sort of like watching a train wreck?

My answer when dealing with them directly was to find a common ground and appeal to their sense of fairness. That was then. We’ve unleashed an entirely new beast now. Let’s just say, I am really glad I’m not working in customer service anymore. Now I just pray for them that they somehow see themselves more honestly. That they “wake up”.

A friend shared a video taken in a local park. A young black man and his father got out of their car to walk and a man walking a dog stopped and stared at them. Then he started saying terrible things to them...racial slurs and worse. The young man told his dad this was his first experience with racism. The dad said he had never seen it this bad. It broke my heart that this was in my home town.

I feel like I’m living in the Twilight Zone. It’s like we’re living in the Civil War, the Civil Rights Era, Watergate, and the Ten Plagues...all at once. Add health issues and the extra chores and the heat and no “me time” and I’m getting downright cranky.

My only answer now is prayer. Lots and lots of prayer.

Oh...and skinny dipping in the dark.

That’s good for the soul.

You can see the CBS Sunday Morning story here: https://www.cbsnews.com/news/faith-salie-on-the-term-karen/

❤️

“Don’t grumble against one another, brothers and sisters, or you will be judged. The Judge is standing at the door!”
James 5:9 NIV

Day 80: Reaching a Tipping Point

Thu, 04 Jun 2020 01:30:00 -0600

The Far Field at Sunset

With any birth comes pain. As the birth becomes imminent, the pain is more pronounced. The contractions come closer and closer till you can hardly get a breath in between them. We are reaching a tipping point and something has to change. Something has to be born into the world. In the real life scenario that is playing out in front of us, we have to remember...we DO have some choices we can make. We still may not get the outcome we hope for, but we can try. We can educate ourselves. We can exercise our right to vote. We can do more listening and less yelling. We can stand up in support of those who are marginalized by society.

It isn’t always easy. Last night, Mr. FixIt asked the same question he asks every night. “Do you want to watch the news?” I said no. Then I said I’d better...I need to know. But I got halfway through and my stomach was churning. I turned to my beloved and said, “I cannot take any more of this right now. I have to take a break from it all.

They say the way to eat an elephant is one bite at a time. This is one big elephant. Stroke #1. Covid isolation. Stroke #2. Then the world imploded. It’s overwhelming. Yes, I made a strong statement yesterday about becoming “anti-racist” and educating myself. I’m doing that. AND, I’m practicing a little self-care along the way.

I delivered a jar of sourdough starter to my friend Stacie yesterday. She is the one who gave us the jar of Redbud Jelly. Now she can make Sourdough English Muffins, too! When we got home, we were lazy all afternoon. We ate a big salad for supper with tofu on top for protein. Then we jumped in the pool and swept it really well to get the sediment and algae mixed up and filtered out.

We had a huge thunderstorm roll through at about 8:00 with intermittent rain predicted overnight. We went out just before dark as the lightning was getting ever closer and hauled the generator up to the house in case we lose electric overnight. I moved us back into the house from the camper. It was just too hot to sleep out there without the air conditioner and that won’t happen till we get the power pole installed. Lots of things taking the back burner right now, but they’ll get done.

One bite at a time.

❤️

“Jesus looked at them and said, “With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.””
Matthew 19:26 NIV

Day 79: Taking a Look in the Mirror

Wed, 03 Jun 2020 01:30:00 -0600

When I was growing up in the mid to late ‘50s, the Civil Rights Movement was gaining speed. One of my first friends in grade school was a little black girl named Lisa. Lisa went on to become a pastor and actually performed our marriage ceremony out in our field when Mr. FixIt and I got married.

My aunt that recently passed away was a Head Start teacher in Washington, DC in the ‘50s. She showed me photographs that had the words “Colored” and “Whites” over the drinking fountains in the school where she taught. I couldn’t understand what they were talking about. My grandma sat me down and told me under no uncertain terms was I to EVER treat anyone differently because of the color of their skin. Therefore...all these many years...I’ve thought I was not racist.

One of the many things I learned from therapy was how to take a good hard look at myself and own/change my less-than-stellar character traits. Back in the mid to late ‘70s I was a single mom. I went out to a bar one night with some friends and a handsome black man showed interest in me and I demurred. I had a young daughter at home, and I was not nearly as enlightened as I thought I was. And I felt ashamed by that. Would I have had a problem with one of my daughters marrying a person of color? Not at all. But back when this happened, I was a young woman...still wet behind the ears...and frankly afraid.

I’ve said things like “All Lives Matter” and “I’m colorblind”. But now? I will forever hear “I can’t breathe” in my mind...echoing over and over. We watched a lynching on video. How can I not be changed by that? I want to be MORE than “not racist”. I want to be “anti-racist”. And to do that, I have to educate myself to the real everyday existence of people of color. I can’t turn a blind eye and not say anything. I have to wake up and learn and do whatever is in my power to make the changes that need to come to fulfill what the Bible tells us to do.

The Golden Rule has to be the base upon which all reparations are made to those who have been disenfranchised because of the amount of melanin that is in their skin. It’s only right.

I cannot condone violence and looting and killings. But I will support peaceful protests and I vow to educate myself to their plight.

I found this article to be a good starting point.

❤️

“So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you, for this sums up the Law and the Prophets.”
Matthew 7:12 NIV

Day 76: How to Stay Positive in Troubling Times

Sun, 31 May 2020 01:30:00 -0600

I am seldom at a loss for words, but yesterday about did me in. From hateful politics to the death and destruction of natural disasters. From long weeks of a horrifying pandemic to the wanton disregard of Memorial Day revelers. From the tragic pictures of a man held under the knee of a police officer till he died...on camera...to the pictures of hordes of people rioting in the street. The sheer chaos just breaks me.

It’s easy to feel like we are standing on the edge of a cliff and there’s a whole crowd of people pushing us from behind. For every picture, for every news story, for every horrifying event...there are stories behind it, beneath it, through it. There are forces at work here breathing death into this chaos. There are evil doers who are fanning the flames of discord. There’s more to this story than we are seeing.

How can we stay positive in times like this? We can’t “unsee” these things. We can’t “unknow” this information. Sometimes things are just so awful we can’t fix them and we can’t ignore them. We can’t hide from them and we’re left feeling unsafe, insecure...frightened.

As I walked out the back door last night and headed to the camper to write about all of this, I was immediately greeted with several gifts. The sun was setting, casting a golden green light over the land I am so privileged to inhabit. The evening was cool and a breeze carried the scent of peonies and honeysuckle across the meadow. And, as I snuggled back against the pillows, iPad at the ready, the mockingbird outside the window regaled me with her evening repertoire. This is when I felt the Holy Spirit reach out to soothe me and remind me of these comforting words to share with you.

“The Lord is my light and my salvation, whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life, of whom shall I be afraid?”
Psalm 27:1

“It is the Lord who goes before you. He will be with you, he will not leave you or forsake you. Do not fear or be dismayed.”
Deuteronomy 31:8

“He sets on high those who are lowly, and those who mourn are lifted to safety.”
Job 5:11

“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid.”
John 14:27

“I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.”
John 16:33

“If I say ‘Surely the darkness shall cover me, and the light about me be night,’ even the darkness is not dark to you; the night is bright as the day, for the darkness is as light with you.”
Psalm 139:11-12

“Cast your burden on the Lord, and he will sustain you; he will never permit the righteous to be moved.”
Psalm 55:22

“Let your steadfast love comfort me according to your promise to your servant.”
Psalm 119:76

I have no answers as to the state of the world. I am gobsmacked by it all. I can’t make sense of it. I’ve been through troubling times before, but this is just crazy...unlike anything I have ever experienced. I do know this, though...the statement “Do not be afraid,” appears 70 times in the Bible. So, I do the only thing I can do. I run to my Dad for his protection and comfort. He is always there for me. He will never leave me or forsake me. He allows me the space to find the comforting gifts he leaves in my path...like a jar of Redbud Jelly and a bag of Sourdough Starter from Texas. The ability to turn those things into English Muffins. The heady aroma of honeysuckle and the evening song of a mockingbird.

I don’t know how God can love us so much...but I’m surely glad that He does.

❤️

“Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God.”
2 Corinthians 1:3-4 NIV

Day 16: Is it Allergies...or is it Covid?

Wed, 01 Apr 2020 01:30:00 -0600

An old church a few miles from the farm is a reminder of days gone by.

I can tell you what’s going on outside without even looking. If my head throbs and my throat is scratchy and I’m sneezing my head off, it’s sunny and warm with a breeze. Every January, I try to remember to start using my nasal steroids to ward off my seasonal allergies and it never fails...March comes and I smack my forehead. If I start early enough, it’s always so much better, but I seldom remember.

So, Sunday afternoon when I got home from the farm and jumped on the riding mower, I’d only had a few weeks worth of Flonase treatment on board. Even with that and an N95 mask, by nightfall my head was pounding, my eyes were itchy, my throat was scratchy, and I was coughing.

I laid in bed for most of the night wondering if I had coronavirus. I took my temperature every hour on the hour. I thought back to everywhere I’ve been in the past 6-8 weeks. I counted the number of times I washed my hands. Did I touch my face? Did I forget to use a paper towel to open that door? Is that stomach ache from the spaghetti sauce or am I coming down with something?

This is the kind of thinking that will drive you crazy. It does absolutely no good to worry myself, and Mr. FixIt, to death about it. I’ll continue to monitor my symptoms but I know it most certainly is the same allergy symptoms I’ve experienced every spring for years.

I was thinking about something the other day. There is a very real comparison to what I’m feeling now and what I felt in the aftermath of Mr. Virgo’s death. Not nearly to the same degree...but eerily similar. I was all set to accomplish great things with this newfound “stay-at-home” order. I thought this would be a period of intense productivity. We’d get this bathroom finished then start the next one. We would strip the wallpaper in the dining room and start going through the closets and the basement. Then we would tackle the building out back. Oh, yes...I had big plans.

Instead, I’ve done very little. I’ve kept us fed. I’ve taken care of the things that need taken care of to survive day to day. I’ve written my blog and kept in touch with my people. I spend a great deal of time doing nothing more than resting with Mr. FixIt. We’ve been watching West Wing and it’s been fun introducing him to that. He never watched it when it was on the air.

I was feeling like I should be doing more. Then I remembered what my grief was like seven years ago. It was a lot like this. Not in intensity, to be sure. But the same malaise is there. The same uncertainty. The same unsettled undercurrent of sadness and longing. The thread of fear that I keep at bay with my trust in Jesus. This is the initial phase of a grief we all are feeling to one degree or another. We are letting it settle in.

It’s ok that we don’t get a lot done right now. As we adjust, we’ll get more energy and be able to accomplish more. I learned this from before. Until then, self care is a good thing. We aren’t going anywhere...not for a while, anyway. We’ll get through this. I learned that, too.

Today is traditionally April Fools Day. Instead of foolishness, lets make it a day filled with kindness.

❤️

“do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”
Philippians 4:6-7 ESV

Please Share...the Last Chance for Raffle Tickets!

Wed, 12 Feb 2020 02:30:00 -0600

Praying for lots of ticket sales to help the families of critically ill children. And, for the new owners of this sweet little camper!

The last five months have been SO much fun! Traveling through five states, camping at several state parks and private campgrounds, over 6,000 miles driven, plus some boondocking off the grid. All in one of the coolest little campers I’ve ever had the privilege to spend time in. I’m seriously considering selling Big TOW-Wanda and getting an rpod 196. I love the floor plan, it is so super easy to tow, the kitchen is really workable, the sofa is honestly indistinguishable from a residential as far as comfort (and folds down into a twin bed to boot!) There is SO much storage and the bed is situated so no one has to crawl over their bed partner to get out in the middle of the night. And to top it all off, the windows let in an amazing amount of light. They had me when I saw the window over the bed!

I spent the day yesterday clearing out the things I’ve toted around with me on the trip. It’s amazing what can accumulate in five short months! There were things that stay with the camper, things that go back to Janine, things that go home, and things to throw away. As I sat and sorted, I prayed for the new owners of this little camper...that they see beautiful sights, that they enjoy peaceful solitude and/or family adventures, and that all their travels are safe and secure.

Thank you all so much for joining me on this journey! I’ll post a farewell photo tomorrow. In the meantime, if you could please do us the honor of sharing this link with everyone you know, I would be ever so grateful. The monies from ticket sales goes to the HoldYou Foundation to assist families who have critically ill children with the practical things they need...keeping the lights on, buying groceries, gas for the car to get their child to and from the doctor. It’s a wonderful charity that the Girl Campers supports wholeheartedly. If you have access to a newsletter or mailing list, that would extra super special! We are getting down to the wire now. We have extended the hours to purchase tickets to midnight on Valentine’s Day! Wahoo!

[girlcamper.com/introduci...](https://girlcamper.com/introducing-the-r-pod-196-from-factory-to-fabulous/)

❤️

“and if you spend yourselves in behalf of the hungry and satisfy the needs of the oppressed, then your light will rise in the darkness, and your night will become like the noonday.”
Isaiah 58:10 NIV

Celebrity Loss is Still Loss Because Grief is Still Grief

Tue, 28 Jan 2020 02:30:00 -0600

The victims of Sunday’s helicopter crash.

Photo Credit: CBS News

I’ve taken a couple of days to process the helicopter crash that took the lives of nine beautiful souls on Sunday. We lose celebrities all the time. Princess Di. Michael Jackson. Prince. Whitney. Robin Williams. They all strike us in some way.

Kobe was an icon. Whether you liked him because of his prowess on the court or disliked him because of what allegedly happened in Colorado 17 years ago...his name and reputation are large and his loss will be felt by many for years to come.

That’s not what I needed to process, though. He left with his beautiful 13-year-old daughter...a rising basketball star in her own right. He left along with other moms and dads and kids and a coach and pilot. And while we pray they didn’t suffer in their last moments, they have left behind a wide swath of devastation that may never, ever be overcome. They left their families behind.

I know from firsthand experience what a snatch death is like. ANY death is hard to take...ANY loss. I am not comparing. But to brutally lose someone in a fiery crash when an hour earlier they were perfect and beautiful and happy and healthy and you hugged them goodbye is...unimaginable.

Vanessa Bryant and her husband brought four beautiful girls into this world. Celebrity or not...wealthy or not...it doesn’t matter. She is now a widow and to top it off, she lost one of her babies. She is a member of a club she never, ever asked for. She is left to raise three daughters...ages 17, 3, and 7 months.

Someone lost their mom. Someone lost their dad. Someone lost their...everything.

It takes time to process that and just because it did not happen to you and you did not know them personally, something like this can shake you up and stir those old familiar grief waves. If this has happened to you, please don’t think there is something wrong with you. It’s normal to be hypersensitive to these kinds of things after loss.

Be gentle with yourself. And send up lots of prayers for those coming up behind us.

“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”
Psalms 34:18 NIV

Bucket Lists & Miracles & Making Memories

Sun, 08 Dec 2019 02:30:31 -0600

“When being Santa is on your bucket list…”

This is the time of year where Christmas is around every corner. The twinkling lights and bustling shops, the carols and the wonderful aromas wafting from the kitchen…they all bring up memories. And, while there is a plethora of “warm-fuzzy” memories, there are also sad painful memories that show up with the turn of the calendar and the darkening of the days.

Christmas was Mr. Virgo’s very favorite holiday. When he worked at the Hotel Jerome in Aspen, he was asked to play Santa one year. You would have thought he was stepping on stage at the Met. He was thrilled…not only to play the role, but to grow out his beard. You often are not allowed to have facial hair when you work in Food & Beverage. This was a treat, all the way around. I know what joy that brought him.

One of my high school friends brought us some devastating news a while back. Her sweet brother, Ed Lowe, was diagnosed with cancer. When they did an in depth work up, they found out it had spread through his body. Ed is a pastor, and he knows where he will go when it is his time. He’s taking advantage of every treatment option and covets the prayers of anyone who will pray for a miracle with him.

With his typical optimism, Ed has set out to work on his bucket list. With Christmas fast approaching, he put his wish out there….to be Santa in our hometown Christmas Parade! Phone calls were made and before you knew it, Ed was being fitted for his Santa suit and got to ride down Market Street on a float…waving and smiling and throwing candy to the children lining the parade route.

These are the happy/sad stories we read about this time of year. This is a memory that will be cherished by so many people, no matter what the outcome of Ed’s health scare may be. I’m telling you this story because I love my friend, Janet. I love her fierce devotion to her brother. And, I am asking you to do something for us. Whenever you see Santa in the coming weeks, please send up a prayer for a special man of God who wants his own Christmas Miracle. Please pray for Ed Lowe…and all the others who need miracles, as well.

?❤️????❤️?

“Heal me, Lord, and I will be healed; save me and I will be saved, for you are the one I praise.”
Jeremiah 17:14 NIV

Premonitions and Pioneers

Wed, 30 Oct 2019 01:30:07 -0600

‘Visiting a Pioneer Farm is a step back in time.”

Yesterday was a strange day from the get go. I woke up at 3:30 in the morning knowing something wasn’t right. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I had an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. After determining I hadn’t eaten anything that would cause such a feeling, I got up, wrapped my camp jacket around me and stepped outside to look at the stars. The sky was crystal clear and the stars looked so close you could just reach up and touch them. I stood there for awhile in my bare feet letting the energy from the earth seep up through my body. When I was sufficiently chilled, literally and figuratively, I went back to bed. But I couldn’t get back to sleep until dawn.

I finally woke up at around 10:00…absolutely unheard of for me these days. I’m usually awake with the chickens. I stumbled around, did my morning toilette, then dressed and cleaned the camper. Finally around 11:30, I packed up my writing implements and headed for the lodge and good WiFi. I created a movie of the best photos I’d taken on this WV tour and wrote till about 3:00 in the afternoon.

I headed to the Pioneer Farm that’s on the back of the park property. This farm was abandoned for a long time, but people were always vandalizing it so now there is a farmer and his family living here. There was no one home when I was there so I wandered around taking pictures and marveling at its timeless beauty. I sat for a while and watched two horses and a donkey browse on the sparse grass in the meadow and felt more peaceful than I had most of the day.

On my way back to the campground, I stopped at the Nature Center and introduced myself to the Naturalist. Tammy is a cat bird. She has a coal country drawl that put me in mind of the Deep South but she assured me she was born and raised within a stone’s throw of the park. She apologized that she had recently let all the critters go. She normally traps possums and raccoons, tags them, and keeps them in the Nature Center for a few weeks to teach people about them. Then she sends them back off into the wild to track their whereabouts and traps another one to tag.

Tammy wasn’t originally hired to be a Park Naturalist. She was supposed to be a campground attendant. She doesn’t have a degree in biology, but she has a knack for nature…two and four legged. She was taking campers for nature hikes when the Park Administrators saw they had a gem in Tammy and told her she should apply for the Naturalist position. And the rest is history. She was a delight to talk with. She smiled as I left and called after me…”Put me in your book!” You bet I will, Tammy!

As I was pulling back into the campground, it happened. There was a low grinding noise coming from my truck and I knew that is where my uneasiness was coming from. Something hasn’t been quite right with the truck for a couple of days but I just couldn’t discern exactly what was troubling me. A sound, maybe? A smell, perhaps? Whatever it was, I kept shifting it to the back of my mind…yet still monitored the situation.

When I heard that noise, I knew there was something mechanically wrong with the truck. And that puts me in an uncomfortable position. First, I am here alone. There are two other campers in all of the campground and I am grateful for them. But they aren’t going to help me in this situation. I do not like being in a situation I cannot get out of quickly. It stems from being trapped in a garage as a young child and sexually assaulted. To say I have control issues is putting it mildly.

I went into the camper and made myself sit down and think. What I wanted to do was hook up the camper and get out of here, but of course…that wasn’t the right thing to do. I texted Mr. FixIt but I knew he was working and his phone would be in the truck. Then I texted my besties, Janine and Gail, and asked them to pray that I would calm down and everything would work out. Within minutes I felt much better and realized this whole thing is an adventure and an educational opportunity, so why not make the most of it!

Mr. FixIt called me a few hours later and he’s going to drive down this morning. He’ll check out my truck. We can tow the camper with his truck. And, either he’ll follow me to a mechanic or we’ll have the truck towed. That’s what I have AAA Plus for. We’ll go home tomorrow. I am so grateful for my friends who pray for me. And I am exceedingly grateful for a wonderful husband who takes good care of me. Wouldn’t you know it would happen at the last park on the last day? But I’m exactly where I should be. I have everything I need right here and I can get some work done while I wait. Thank God I wasn’t pulling the camper up the side of the mountain with no cell service!

❤️

“And my God will meet all your needs according to the riches of his glory in Christ Jesus.”
Philippians 4:19 NIV

Welcome to my Living Room!

Tue, 29 Oct 2019 01:30:00 -0600

“The camper is the kitchen, bath, and bedroom…the great outdoors is where I live!”

I got to my new campsite in the middle of the afternoon. The mountains I drove over yesterday weren’t anything like the ones last week but man, the road up into the campground here at the park is really, really steep! This truck did a great job pulling the r-pod in these West Virginia hills. When I arrived at my site, I was amazed to have this entire mountaintop to myself! I didn’t have any concerns about that, but I was pleased to see two more couples come into the campground with trailers.

It’s quiet as a church mouse up here. I heard some owls just after dark and a coal train. And the squirrels were in the hickory trees all around me all afternoon. I opened the awning and set up my chair outside and enjoyed the 75° temps and the warm sunshine. A few weeks ago, I purchased an adapter for my tripod so I could use the iPad as a camera. I got it out and played with it for awhile. I had a blast setting the timer for 10 seconds then running to see if I could get in the picture in time!

I wanted to tell you about what happened yesterday. I always sit in my truck before I pull out and pray for travel mercies. I list off all the things I’m going to be talking with Him about as I drive. Then I pray the Prayer of Jabez and ask Him to send me whoever He needs me to talk with that day. I hadn’t driven a hundred feet when I came around a corner and there was a whole crowd of folks my age sitting around a campfire. I stopped and rolled down my window.

“You kids look like you’re having entirely too much fun!”

“Oh, we are!!!” Everyone turned around and smiled and waved. We made some small talk and one of the gals asked if I was traveling alone. I told her all about Girl Campers and how I’m taking this camper around for a few months and we are raffling it off. One thing led to another and the subject of my writing came up. When I told them my writing is faith based and that I even have a Sunday Evening Prayer Circle, one woman came over and took my hand and asked if I would pray for her granddaughter who is sick with ulcerative colitis. I opened my blog and added her name to the prayer list. Before I left them, I took their hands and prayed with them…right there in the campground. God is so good…I asked, He delivered. Immediately! I know it happens so often, I shouldn’t be amazed. But I am always in awe at that.

I’m in the home stretch of the West Virginia tour now. Just one, maybe two more nights and I’ll be back at the Ponderosa for a few days. It’s been such an amazing trip and I’ve seen some beautiful places. I’m looking forward to heading south next week. If you all have any recommendations for campgrounds or state parks in Virginia, Tennessee, North Carolina, and South Carolina…I’d love to hear them!

❤️

“Jabez was more honorable than his brothers. His mother had named him Jabez, saying, “I gave birth to him in pain.” Jabez cried out to the God of Israel, “Oh, that you would bless me and enlarge my territory! Let your hand be with me, and keep me from harm so that I will be free from pain.” And God granted his request.”
1 Chronicles 4:9-10 NIV

Between the Trees

Sun, 27 Oct 2019 01:30:43 -0600

“Sitting by the river is soothing to the soul.”

Being a writer is a wonderful thing. I can get lost in a blank page, creating worlds from my thoughts. It’s like magic…making something from nothing. I pray over my keyboard. I ask God to bring me words to say and people who need them. I am humbled when someone reaches out and tells me how my words have encouraged them or helped to ease the pain of their particular loss. I am quick to tell them…it is not me. I am merely the transcriptionist.

When I pray the Prayer of Jabez, I ask for God to give me those Blessings with my name on them. I ask Him to expand my territory and to walk with His hand over me to keep evil far from me so that I may not feel/cause pain. I love when He brings people to me. It happens daily and I am so blessed by His generosity.

As I sat yesterday in the r-pod, working on a writing project, I noticed the camper next door had turned their outdoor speakers up and were playing loud music. Not over-the-top loud…just annoying because it was disturbing my flow. I stopped and looked at the clock. Just after noon. I had been working straight through since breakfast. I sighed and closed my iPad.

Should I go say something to the people? Should I give them a stern look as I pass by? Should I report them to the park office? I sat and prayed for discernment and wisdom. As I washed up the breakfast dishes, I looked out and there were two children…maybe ‘tweens…carving pumpkins! They didn’t have their noses glued to an electronic device. They were camping with their family and doing fun, creative things in the outdoors.

I smiled as I dried my hands. Just WHO is the one with her nose glued to an electronic device? Oh, yes…that would be ME! I laughed as I looked up and said, “Ok, ok…I get the hint!” After taking a look around the camper to make sure things were unplugged and safe to leave, I donned my jacket and headed to the Fall Harvest Festival.

I watched a chainsaw artist carve a bear out of a log. I sat and listened to some live Bluegrass music. I went to the river and sat in a chair and read for an hour. I put my book away and just breathed in the smells of the day. The aroma of good food from the lodge kitchen. The smell of wet leaves and swift river water. The earthy smell of wool as the sun warmed my sweater. I closed my eyes and listened to children throwing rocks in the river and an elderly couple chatting softly as they walked slowly by…their feet shuffling through the leaves.

I thanked God for reminding me to remove the plank in my own eye before I asked my neighbor to remove the sliver from theirs.

It was a really good day.

❤️

“You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye.”
Matthew 7:5 NIV

Check Engine Light

Wed, 09 Oct 2019 01:30:08 -0600

“How many times have you seen this come on…right in front of the dealership?!?!”

I was heading through Marietta, Ohio yesterday afternoon on my way from one campground to the next. My preferred Ford dealer is there and as I was driving by, I got “the nudge”. The thought went through my mind…“Check your engine light!” Literally…I was right in front of the dealership when I looked down and…

It was ON!!!

I kid you not! I got goose bumps. Ok…I drove down a block, turned around, and came back. I pulled up as close to the service entrance as I could while pulling a camper behind me. Luke, the Service Supervisor, came out and checked the truck with the computer. One of the oxygen sensors was bad. They checked and had one in stock and they had a free technician. I unhooked the camper, pulled the truck in, and went out to the camper to stretch out and read. An hour later, they called and the truck was ready.

You cannot tell me prayer doesn’t work. You cannot tell me the Holy Spirit doesn’t guide us. How many of you sent up prayers and good thoughts for travel mercies for me yesterday? Well, they worked…and I thank you for those prayers!

But most of all, I thank God for always watching out for me. I love it when He comes through with a megaphone because there was absolutely nothing subtle about that call. Wowza!

I got to the next campground just before dusk. I never reveal where I am in real time when I’m traveling alone so I’ll have to let you know the day after I leave. But, talk about peace and quiet…it’s crazy quiet here. I was hoping to see the night sky, but the clouds stole in just as I was unhooking. Maybe tonight. In the meantime…great cell service and a deadline to meet. What a great place to write!

❤️

“When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place, what is mankind that you are mindful of them, human beings that you care for them?”
Psalms 8:3-4 NIV

Love Letters from Beyond

Fri, 27 Sep 2019 01:30:20 -0600

“Leaving love notes behind for your spouse to find later…what a gift!”

My friends and I camped at Beaver Creek State Park last night. We so seldom get together, just the three of us and when we do it’s always so special. It’s always tempting to stay up really late and sleep in the next day, but Janine and I both had long drives home. We called it a night fairly early and were up and ready for coffee by 8:00. We chatted over a leisurely breakfast and prayed for each other before we finally broke camp by 11:00. I pulled in to the Ponderosa around 4:00, dropped off the camper, and turned right around to go back to town for small group. I’m not signed up for this session, but I wanted to visit and share in the fellowship with dear friends from church.

I was seated by a new member of the group. Jonna is a widow of two years. I put my hand on her arm and told her how sorry I was for her loss. We chatted about the similarities and differences between people’s grief experiences. She knew ahead of time that her husband was dying and she was thrilled they had time to have important conversations, no matter how uncomfortable they were.

Just before our meeting started, she leaned over and lowered her voice a little.

“Wanna know the BEST part?”

I was intrigued. I had never thought about “the best part” of grief.

“Yes….please!”

“My husband hid love notes for me everywhere! I’ve found over twenty of them already!”

My heart melted. I remember finding a note Mr. Virgo had left me for Valentine’s day just a month before he died unexpectedly. I know how precious that is.

“I’m not going to go looking for them. If I find one, it’s a gift! I found one the other day in the file of Explanation of Benefits from the insurance!”

I leaned over to her and said, “I think that is just the sweetest thing!”

That’s a good man, right there. He knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, what these little gifts would mean to the woman he had married thirty-eight years prior. Even when he was ill and in pain from the amputation of his leg, this gentle giant left his sweetheart love letters from beyond. Yes…that’s a very good man!

❤️

“Now may the Lord of peace himself give you peace at all times and in every way. The Lord be with all of you.”
2 Thessalonians 3:16 NIV

There is Another

Mon, 09 Sep 2019 01:30:03 -0600

“There is another who stands with us in the fire….always.”

I cannot tell you how many times I have felt alone in my life. Totally alone. Totally forgotten. Maybe not totally worthless…but pretty darned close sometimes. When I went through my formal conversion to Judaism just before my second child was born, part of the process was to sit before the Bet Din…the Jewish Tribunal Court that determines your suitability. Did you learn all you needed to learn? Are you converting for your faith…or for your husband? How will you accomplish the very important aspect of the Jewish faith…being a contributing member of the synagogue?

These were the easy questions. I had already lived a Jewish life for 12 years. This conversion was merely a formality so that our child would be considered by other Jews to be Jewish once she was born. The difficult question came last.

“Do you renounce Jesus as your personal savior?”

I thought I would fly through these questions without giving them a second thought. But this question….this…betrayal to all I had learned as a child hit something deep within me I didn’t even realize was there. But what was I to do? I was pregnant out to here and my nice Jewish doctor-husband was sitting on the other side of the door, waiting for me.

“I have obligations to my family,” I thought to myself. “I have people depending on me to show up as a Jew…not the least of which is my unborn child.”

So, I said yes…and that’s where the trouble started. I felt God…I don’t know…step back, for lack of a better description. From that moment on…for the next ten years…I felt alone. Forsaken, as I had forsaken Jesus. Granted, I had not recognized him as the Son of God at that point. I had never invited Him into my life. I had never given over to Him and called Him Lord. I guess, in that moment, I realized He was still in the back of my mind. He was still there. That is, until I kicked Him to the curb in the office of the synagogue that cold and sunny January day.

I didn’t deserve Him. I had shunned Him. I felt there was no forgiveness for such an action and that was where I was left. Dying on the vine from the inside out. Ten years later, after an overdose nearly killed me, I started my long journey back to life and along the way…praise God…I was brought to my knees at the foot of the Cross and came home to Jesus in 2005. Nearly fifteen years ago.

What I’ve learned since then is this: I was never alone in the fire. God was always there with me, no matter how far I tried to push Him away. I spent that whole decade feeling alone and unworthy…far from God on my side of the fence. Yet He sat there patiently watching out for me, patiently waiting for me to cry out for him.

I think of myself as a parent…how sad I have been at times when my children’s focus has them far away from me and how joyful I feel when they call, or reach out to me for something even as mundane as a family recipe. This must be how God feels when we reach our arms out to Him to be held. Like any parent…He loves His children. Like any parent…He rejoices when His children love Him back.

❤️

“How precious is your steadfast love, O God! The children of mankind take refuge in the shadow of your wings.”
Psalms 36:7 ESV

Stitched with Love

Fri, 06 Sep 2019 01:30:17 -0600

“My friend’s comfort quilt is on its way. She’s had her first dose of chemo.”

My dear friend’s quilt is on its way out west. As I sat and hand stitched the binding, I listened to praise music for a bit, then I switched over to my daily devotional. My Bible app on my phone has a function where someone reads the Bible to you. That is especially handy for my Bible plan that I’m working on. It’s planned so that you read the entire Bible in a year. I’ve only read the Bible completely once. I read it from cover to cover…from Genesis to Revelations. That’s tough. You get stuck in all those begats and Kings and it’s difficult to keep from going cross eyed.

This plan reads a couple of chapters from the Old Testament and the New Testament. Then it reads some from Psalms and finishes with Proverbs. Every day. Once I got two weeks behind and swore I’d never do that again. Then over the weekend, I hit the two week behind mark again. Currently I’m only behind nine days. I have some catching up to do. Listening over the headphones accomplished two things…it helped me catch up a bit and it let me stitch the Word into my work. Then I prayed over the quilt and hugged it close and sent it off to my friend, hoping she feels the love and hugs and prayers put into each stitch.

I’m counting down the days for my trip now. We’ve all learned from experience just how fast a week can go by. It will be no time and I’ll be off to the Hershey RV Show. I’ll meet Janine there and we’ll work the show for two days. Then we’ll be off to Huntington, WV.

I’ve been researching stays for my trip and all the writing that is going to be involved with it. Lots of driving. Lots of photo editing. Plus another project that’s coming up very soon. PLUS my own writing here. That’s a ton of work. What I will have to do is share my trip writing here on some of the days. It will be extremely difficult (I think) to write the daily essays you and I have become accustomed to. Then again, writing on this blog has become my bedtime ritual and I may not be able to sleep until I write something here.

At any rate, you and I are about to embark on a VERY exciting journey filled with fun experiences and beautiful scenery. And sometimes we’ll still talk about grief. Because, you know…it’s what we do here. Grief and joy can exist at the same time.

❤️

“a time to tear, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;”
Ecclesiastes 3:7 ESV

The Other Side of Fear

Wed, 04 Sep 2019 01:30:51 -0600

“Everything you want is on the other side of fear.” Jack Canfield

I hear from a lot of widows who face fear as one of their most difficult symptoms of grief. Fear of the unknown…fear of being alone…fear of other people’s motives. Navigating grief is difficult enough on it’s own. Add fear, anxiety, and even full blown panic attacks and it ratchets grief up to an unbearable level.

I’ve always had a bit of an anxious nature. Anticipatory social anxiety. Commonly called “stage fright”. I’ve come a long way in learning to control it. Sometimes it bothers me. Sometimes it doesn’t. I’ve learned the things I most want to do lie on the other side of that fear, so I have to figure out ways to get through to the other side in order to find my bliss.

The fear I felt early on after losing Mr. Virgo was different than my usual pre-speech jitters. It was hold-onto-the-edge-of-the-mattress-all-night awful. Through trial and error, I’ve learned a lot of skills…tools for my tool box, so to speak. If I feel myself amping up, one of the things that almost immediately calms me down is listening to praise music. If I’m singing at the top of my lungs, its really difficult to be scared.

I’ve had so many people tell me they would really love to take off camping or traveling by themselves but they are too scared. The bottom line any grief mentor should take is honoring what others are and are not capable of. That being said, if it really is something you want to do, there are ways you can ease into scary situations without jumping in with both feet.

Finding a like-minded friend to do things with can help a lot when it comes to doing new things. Taking little baby steps helps, as well. If your dream is to take a month long trip to Europe but you have panic attacks going to the grocery store, you need to desensitize yourself. Start with little excursions. A short day trip. Repeat till you’re comfortable. Then an overnight, then two…you get the idea. Getting professional help can go a long way toward building your confidence and getting down to the root of the issues you face.

When I was planning the trip to Colorado, my biggest concerns were the social obligations of my daughter’s wedding and being so far away from Mr. FixIt. Losing Mr. Virgo so suddenly brings the possibility of a repeat to the forefront of my imagination. So, yeah…that makes me nervous. The night before the trip, my stomach was in knots but I did my routine and the next morning, I was good to go. It’s not the actual DOING that bothers me…it’s the anticipation. And, sometimes I just have to do the thing and feel the fear.

I’m really excited about the opportunity to take this new camper around. There’s nothing about it that scares me, per se. I may have pre-trip jitters the night before. I may not. Knowing what it is, knowing how to redirect my thinking, knowing just what I need to do helps me feel less out of control and more confident in my own abilities.

What I want is often on the other side of fear, but that’s exactly what makes the experience so much richer. I know exactly what I had to get through to get there and that makes me brave! After all…so far, I have survived every single experience I’ve encountered in my life!

❤️

“Be strong and courageous. Do not fear or be in dread of them, for it is the Lord your God who goes with you. He will not leave you or forsake you."”
Deuteronomy 31:6 ESV

The Tug of War

Mon, 02 Sep 2019 01:30:54 -0600

“Angel on one hand, devil on the other…trying to have their way with me.”

Mr. FixIt and I haven’t had a lot of time together this summer. I was gone a lot and, even though he joined me for three weeks in Colorado, we both have been working nonstop at this and that since we got home the first week of August. Here it is September already and I’m already preparing to leave again.

We miss being together and we both know the importance of devoting time to our relationship. It’s been really nice this weekend because we took three days off for some much needed R&R. When I woke up yesterday, I was tired. My allergies have been giving me fits creating fluid in my ears which sometimes makes me dizzy. I laid in bed for twenty minutes telling myself it was perfectly fine to stay home…we didn’t have to go to church. I mean…it’s just this once, right? We go almost every Sunday when we are home. That deserves a day off to sleep in. I just didn’t feel good. I didn’t feel like going.

As I let these thoughts run through my mind, I was almost convinced to turn over and go back to sleep when a stern “voice” shook me from my reverie.

“When you don’t FEEL like going is exactly when you NEED to go!”

I quite literally jumped out of bed.

Ohhhhh….my thinker was what was “sick”. Church is the place it gets healed.

When I’m thinking I don’t need to go to church is exactly when I need it the most. And yesterday, I am not kidding…church felt like plugging in my jet pack. I got fed the energy and grace and love and lessons I needed and I left there convicted. Convinced the place to feel better is to draw closer to Jesus, not turn over and go back to sleep.

It’s not enough to go every Sunday and get plugged in, hoping the charge lasts till the following Sunday. That obviously didn’t work last week because I easily could have opted out. My tug of war pitted the proverbial angel on one hand and devil on the other…each trying to pull me to their side. I know I can’t ever go wrong when I choose Jesus.

The key is to draw closer…constantly. The Bible says we are to “pray without ceasing” (1 Thessalonians 5:17). The way to do that is to turn whatever you are doing into worship. Whether you are singing in the choir or scrubbing toilets, it can be done with a tone of worship and praise. And when we pray, we are to devote ourselves “to prayer, keeping alert in it with an attitude of thanksgiving” (Colossians 4:2)

Just that boost, and the conviction to keep close, has given me rest and regeneration. I feel so much better and not nearly so overwhelmed by all I need to accomplish in the next two weeks. I came to the farm after church…to my place of meditation…to the home of my heart…and enjoyed a quiet evening while Mr. FixIt bowled. Today, I’ll go back home and get some work done. Perhaps I’ll pressure wash the deck!

❤️

“Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.”
Romans 12:2 NIV

Like Sands Through the Hourglass...

Sat, 31 Aug 2019 01:30:08 -0600

“Sending some cheerful hugs, love and prayers to one of my dearest peeps!”

One of my dearest peeps is having a medical issue that will involve a lengthy period of medical treatments. I can’t be with her or give her hugs or bring her casseroles, so I’m doing the next best thing…I’m sending her a little “Comfort Quilt” to stuff in her tote and take to the hospital. I told her when she wraps herself up in it, she can feel my hugs and prayers because I’m putting both in it!

I spent yesterday afternoon at the little quilt shop in town, cutting and sewing the quilt top. The owner and I spent the time chatting and visiting with the other women who came in to shop. When they were all gone, she asked if I would mind if she turned the TV back on. The last time I was there, she had been watching quilt tutorials. I normally hate TV, but anything educational is quite tolerable.

Imagine my surprise when she turned on…wait for it…..Days of Our Lives! I didn’t even know that was still on the air! Well, I’m here to tell you…it is. I haven’t watched soap operas since Daughter #2 was a baby. I usually watched while I folded the laundry. Here’s the crazy thing…

Maggie…Victor…Marlena…they’re ALL still there!!!

And they’ve been stuck in the same wine cellar since 1990!!!

Seriously though…other than people carrying cell phones, you wouldn’t know 29 years had passed. There was one actress on there that plays two characters…one of whom wears those false teeth that made her look like her daddy drank up all the money for her orthodontia. And she had such a grossly over-exaggerated fake southern hick accent that it was insulting. Every word she said made me want to get up and slap her for making fun of me and my people.

Anyway, I finished the quilt top and the shop owner will quilt it on the long arm tomorrow and I can pick it up Tuesday, sew on the binding and get it sent off with lots of love and hugs and prayers for complete healing and minimal side effects. When I get it finished, I’ll post another picture and you can send your prayers and hugs along with mine!

Till then…I hope you have a fun and safe Labor Day Weekend. And, if you’re in the way of the hurricane…please be careful out there!!! Prayers for your health and safety!

❤️

“Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword.....No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us.” ‭‭Romans‬ ‭8:35, 37‬ ‭NIV‬‬

When Bad Things Happen...Lean In Closer

Wed, 28 Aug 2019 01:30:30 -0600

“Thank you so much for all of your prayers. I am so grateful.”

Since June, there has been one catastrophic event after another befall my friends and family. Cancer, Stillbirth, Mental Heath Crises, Accidents, Illness, Death. One after another after another. I’ve heard it said “Bad things happen in threes.” Try three TIMES three…and then some!

I once read the book “When Bad Things Happen to Good People” by Harold Kushner. The author is a Conservative Rabbi and the book addressed the long standing debate: If God is loving and caring, how can so many bad things happen to good people? While the book was written in 1981, I turned to it in 2001 after 9/11.

I had a difficult time reconciling a loving, omnipresent Deity “allowing” something so heinous to happen to thousands of innocent people. No doubt, people who loved Him, and worshiped Him whose only fault of the day was being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

I must admit, I was not yet a Christian on 9/11. It would be another three years before I took that leap of faith and surrendered to a God so much bigger than me. I was full of righteous anger that a “loving God” would allow this to happen. I could not wrap my head around it. I went to a psychiatrist and asked him for guidance. I was given a version of “these things happen”. Then I went to a Rabbi and asked him, “Where was God today???”

“He was there,” he said. “He was under the desks with the mothers as they called frantically to tell their loved ones goodbye. He was in the stairwells with the brave men who were helping the injured trying to escape the chaos. He was with the First Responders as they rushed into the flaming buildings, knowing full well they may not come back out alive. And many did not.

He was on the planes with the terrified passengers and crew members. He held steady those that made a mad rush on the terrorists over Pennsylvania. He was with the unsuspecting workers in the Pentagon and the Towers. God was everywhere, crying out in anguish as life after life was snuffed out.

God does not punish us with cruelty. He does not take pleasure in our pain. But what He DOES do is turn those terrifying moments into opportunities to lean into Him. To call out for Him. To have faith that, even in the darkest moments, He never forsakes us.

And that brings me to the events that have cast a shadow over my circle of friends and family…those I hold most dear and those whom I only know through others. We ask ourselves why these things happen, one on top of the other and the only answer there could be is…this is the nature of life.

As Stephen Colbert so eloquently stated on the subject of grief and the loss of his father and two brothers in a plane crash when he was ten: about learning to “love the thing that I most wish had not happened.” He went on to say: “It’s a gift to exist and with existence comes suffering. There’s no escaping that. What do you get from loss? You get awareness of other people’s loss, which allows you to connect with that other person, which allows you to love more deeply and to understand what it’s like to be a human being if it’s true that all humans suffer.”

I hate that my loved ones and friends are suffering. I wish I could take that pain away from them. But, if by doing so, I would rob them of the awareness of other people’s loss and subsequent connection with them, then I am denying them their humanness…their connectedness. I would rob them of the opportunity to love more deeply and to truly understand what it’s like to be human.

What I CAN do for them is to be there for them, to hold a sacred, safe space for them to come to and grieve. And I can encourage them to seek a closer relationship with their higher power, which for me personally is God.

Our pastor said something the other day that struck me. I’m paraphrasing, but it went something like this: When disaster strikes you and you wail in your grief, this is normal. But lean in very close and put your ear to God’s lips and listen.

He is closest to the brokenhearted.

❤️

“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted; he rescues those whose spirits are crushed.”
Psalms 34:18 NLT

Always Choose Joy. Unless You Can’t...

Wed, 21 Aug 2019 01:30:25 -0600

“Here’s to the compassionate people!”

I’ve been on a JOY kick all year. Ok. I get it. I just got married in October and I’m full of the feels. But yesterday, I got a reminder that sometimes…no matter how much you WANT to…joy eludes you for an indeterminate amount of time.

I belong to a few widow’s support groups on Facebook. I have cockily thought to myself from time to time that I certainly don’t NEED a widow’s support group anymore. That is, until I DO. Then I am ever so grateful for those who share and lift each other up, no matter where they land on the grief/time continuum.

There have been times when I read about the desperate sadness we as the bereaved quite normally go through and my heart breaks for them. I think of all the times I didn’t think I could go on. I think of all the wonderful people who supported and loved me through the most horrific event I have experienced up to this moment in time. There were people I didn’t even know…you readers…who lifted me and helped me move forward, even as I tried to lift others.

But yesterday there was a post that garnered a good deal of pushback and it gave me pause. Basically, this person was saying…just choose joy. That’s a gross simplification, but that was the bottom line. Just choose joy. It made me think about my cheerleading and jumping on the JOY TRAIN and how it may seem dismissive of those who are still in the active throes of grief.

It’s damned hard to find joy when the person who was so much your SOURCE of joy is no longer here. I know this in the core of my being. When I was in my darkest dark place in grief, I truly felt I would never find a glimmer of happiness in this lifetime again…let alone JOY. And yes…you DO have to make a lot of choices in this new normal. One of them is choosing to keep living. Choosing to keep trying. Choosing to keep moving forward no matter HOW hard it is or lonely or heart breaking.

We choose to do this for others….our kids, our parents, our friends…even our person who “would want me to live my life”. Eventually, it is my fervent HOPE that we choose to do this for ourselves.

I have been guilty of using the word “choose” a little too blithely, I’m afraid. And if I have, and it has caused you pain, may I offer my humblest apologies. It is not easy to choose when you are in overwhelming pain. It’s not that I forgot this…but maybe I push it a bit too far out of reach to mentor as effectively as I would like to.

I want you to have hope. I want you to find joy. I want you to experience good things in your life again. I know it CAN happen…I’m proof. It just needs to happen in its own time. And when you DO experience what passes as joy, it may not look the same as someone else’s and that’s ok. I just wanted you to know…I haven’t forgotten those of you whose hearts are so incredibly crushed. I will strive to always hold a sacred space for you here.

❤️

“My comfort in my suffering is this: Your promise preserves my life.”
Psalm 119:50 NIV

“Let The Sun Shine...”

Sun, 18 Aug 2019 01:30:25 -0600

“The Ubiquitous Photo from Woodstock”

Fifty years ago this weekend, a gazillion people descended on Mr. Yasgur’s New York farm just five hundred miles from where I grew up. What started out as a ticketed music event soon devolved into chaos as tens of thousands of unticketed hippies made their way into the tiny village of Bethel. The festival had already suffered a last minute change of venue and was seriously short on cash, but there came a point where Woodstock took on a life of its own.

Fifty years have passed. I didn’t go, of course. I was only sixteen and actually didn’t even hear about it till it was on the news. Not that I would have done something so brazen as to defy my parents because I know they never would have allowed me to go. I never even skipped a class in school, let alone run off to a hippy concert five hundred miles away. Still, I marveled at the mass of humanity. And, I liked the music.

It was such a crazy summer…the Summer of ‘69. The Summer of Love. That’s what we called it. But the older generations thought we young people were out of our minds. Sex, drugs, and Rock & Roll. And now look where we are. I saw a meme today. A grandpa was saying he fought in WWII and built his house with his own two hands. His great grandson said, “Sometimes I put a meme on Facebook and it gets a lot of likes.” That is so sad…and unfortunately, all too true.

We didn’t have the internet in 1969. We didn’t have the news on 24/7/365. We didn’t have violent video games. We didn’t have as many latch key kids and no iPad kids or YouTube kids. Dr. Spock was just beginning to tell us how to raise our kids and to never swat their butts or we would bruise their fragile self-esteems. I’ll tell you what, if I sassed back to my parents, they bruised my “self-esteem” with whatever was handy. I did the same with my kids. Nowadays, you can have your kids taken away for that. And they know it.

I remember Daughter #1 saying she was going to call Child Protective Services because I wouldn’t let her go to a party. I smiled and recited the number to her. Then I took her car keys. It’s hard to parent now. Having the grandkids over this week with their own little ones made me compare how easy I had it compared to what they are facing. And I didn’t have it all that easy.

After my first divorce, I was a single mom in Denver. My family lived in West Virginia. I didn’t have anyone I could leave the baby with while I went to work. I had to find child care…and pray they wouldn’t hurt my daughter. I lived in HUD housing, on food stamps and WIC. I drove a beat up old Pontiac that I paid some Iranians $200 for. The hood and the trunk were wired closed with coat hangers. All four sides were dented in. I prayed every day I could get to work so I could take care of us. I didn’t have a smart phone and five sets of grandparents to step in when I was overwhelmed.

God knows, I made plenty of mistakes in those early years. It’s a wonder we made it through. The music of 1969 was five years old before my daughter was born. I look back now in awe. I knew I’d be “old” someday. I just thought it would take longer. Oh, sixty-six isn’t OLD, exactly. I sure feel the difference, just in the last couple of years. Mr. FixIt and I work very hard and it’s taking it’s toll. I hurt in places that never hurt before. It takes me a bit to get moving. But, like my husband says…you’ve got to keep moving or you’ll stop.

Fifty years since Woodstock…and there’s a real part of me that genuinely feels a little past my prime. However, I’m about to take a brand new camper wherever I want for five months and write about it! Isn’t that just about the coolest thing? I wouldn’t take who I was in 1969 back for anything!

“Let the sun shine…let the sun shine in…the sun…shine in!”

❤️

“I think it is right to refresh your memory as long as I live in the tent of this body,”
2 Peter 1:13 NIV

Basking in the Glow of Family

Sat, 03 Aug 2019 01:30:27 -0600

“The sun goes down on the evening before my baby’s wedding. My heart is full!”

Last night was amazing. Every fear and trepidation I had beforehand dissipated as soon as we pulled into the driveway at Hubby #2’s house. He was so gracious, as was his wife. Their house is stunning. Their dogs are the sweetest things. Daughter #1 and her family were there when we arrived and soon after, my sister- and brother-in-law arrived from Utah. Oh, my gosh! It was so exciting to see them all!

Just before dinner, my daughter and her fiancée arrived and we were a complete family. My brother enjoyed everyone and joined in the conversations. It really was perfect. What I learned from this: When you hand things over to God to take care of…you have to let go of it. I knew as I was driving over from Glenwood Springs…this was going to be good. This was going to be very, very good.

After dinner, Daughter #2 came to me and said, “Mama…I have something for you to do tomorrow. You’re in charge of this…and making sure he has a seat at my wedding.”

With that she handed me a framed photo of Mr. Virgo. She was very close to her stepfather and losing him was so hard on her. The suddenness of seeing his smiling face…so totally unexpected…took my breath away and I started crying. I wasn’t the only one. It was a very special moment and it still makes me tearful as I write this. What a beautiful gesture…what a beautiful God moment….what love…what treasures I have in this family.

My baby is getting married today. My heart is so full! Thank you Jesus for every gift you have given me in this life!

❤️

“Place me like a seal over your heart, like a seal on your arm; for love is as strong as death, its jealousy unyielding as the grave. It burns like blazing fire, like a mighty flame. Many waters cannot quench love; rivers cannot sweep it away. If one were to give all the wealth of one’s house for love, it would be utterly scorned.”
Song of Songs 8:6-7 NIV

Abundance

Mon, 29 Jul 2019 01:30:54 -0600

“Heading into the Weminuche Wilderness”

Joyful abundance! Mr. FixIt is such a great traveler. I love showing him places he hasn’t seen. As a matter of fact, he told me the other night his neck hurts from swiveling back and forth, trying to take it all in. We arrived in Pagosa Springs on Friday afternoon. This is where Mr. Virgo and I lived in 2008. He was the General Manager for a 4200 acre luxury resort here and I did the marketing and catering. It was a short-lived position as our job was to try to turn their losses into profits and try as we might, it was not to be. This is the nature of being a fixer. If you can’t, they close and you lose your job. If you can, they sell and you lose your job. We didn’t really expect to be there long term.

Pagosa Springs is a gorgeous area and I enjoyed the rugged beauty of it. I did not like the short summer, long winter, and gobs of snow. So I was just as happy to get out of there and move on. Still, it is someplace I wanted Mr. FixIt to see and experience. We went out for a wonderful breakfast yesterday morning then headed to the backroads. Mr. Virgo and I used to spend every day off exploring the many dirt roads in the Weminuche Wilderness. This is where I came when I started my grief journey in Little TOW-Wanda. I carried strands of Mr. Virgo’s silver hair into the dense woods above Williams Lake and buried them at the base of a tree, affixing a cross to mark the spot.

We didn’t walk back into the woods yesterday. That wasn’t part of the deal. That was mine…my memory. As a matter of fact, as we drove deeper and deeper into the woods, I felt Mr. Virgo so strongly…as if he were gliding along with us. I told Mr. FixIt story after story. Here’s where we worked. Here’s where we shopped. Here’s where we loved to eat dinner. There’s the car wash where they had to unfreeze the doors so we could get out. That little bakery has the best pastries. This restaurant has the best coffee. My sweet husband held my hand and smiled and nodded and encouraged me to share because he knows this helps me heal and move forward.

Then…in the middle of the afternoon, we found out…great grandchild #3 is on the way!!! Another little boy…arriving in January!!!

My heart is about to explode! THIS!!! This is what I so very nearly lost in January 2000 when I overdosed. At the time, my world was so small, so dark, so difficult and I couldn’t see anything beyond that darkness. And now…look at this! My world is so blessed with such abundance and joy, I can hardly contain myself! Babies! The Wedding! My sweet husband! My wonderful family! My health! My heart!

Thank you…..thank you dearest Heavenly Father…for healing my family…for healing me…for giving me Mr. Virgo to show me I was worthy of earthly love…for giving me Mr. FixIt for helping me through the most difficult period of my life…and for this tremendous family, mine and his, that brings our numbers up and up and up! I’m so high on life, you have to scrape me off the clouds!

❤️

“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.”
1 Corinthians 13:4-7 NIV

Hand it Over

Sat, 20 Jul 2019 01:30:30 -0600

“For God has not given us a spirit of fear and timidity, but of power, love, and self-discipline. 2 Timothy 1:7”

I have struggled with anxiety all of my life. It’s so, so frustrating because I know what it is. I know the feelings are real, but they stem from thoughts. I have a whole toolbox of techniques that I’ve used over the years…some helpful, some decidedly harmful, all of them ineffective to a large degree. It wasn’t until I started studying the Bible looking for answers that I have begun to find some semblance of relief.

I was reading a devotional about anxiety and fear this week and came across something I had never read before but it really struck home. It talked about a secondary effect of anxiety becoming “a fear of fear itself”. That sums it up so distinctly. I really HATE feeling afraid…to the point of fearing the fear. Suddenly, it just all seemed so ridiculous.

The Bible talks a lot about fear and anxiety. So much so that it is apparent these feelings are prevalent in all humans to some degree. For years…decades…I felt weird about my anxiety. Like there was something wrong with me. That I was somehow flawed and no one else had these feelings. Knowing I’m not alone…even Joshua and Mary and countless others were told by God to not be afraid. That is so comforting to me.

I am excited about the upcoming wedding in two weeks. I’m thrilled for my daughter and her happiness. And, it’s hard to tease out the difference between the butterflies of excitement and the quaking of anxiety. It affects me physically the same and my mind can easily take off on a wild tangent which isn’t anywhere I really want to go.

This most recent Bible study I read says whenever the first feelings of anxiety or fear begin to come into your mind, think of a praise instead. Turn on praise music. Sing a praise song. Thank Jesus for waking you up this morning. What I’ve been doing is telling God about all the beautiful things we’re going to do the day of the wedding. I’ve been telling Him about the pretty dresses the girls are wearing. And all the people we’re going to see that we love and don’t get to see often enough. I’ve invited Him to come along with me and to be there right alongside each of us.

There’s so much in life that can change plans at the last minute. There are illnesses in families or some other unforeseen circumstances that you can’t predict. It doesn’t help to be nervous or worried, but it’s hard not to be. As Jesus said, God takes care of the birds and the fields…surely He’ll take good care of us…even in our worst moments.

I hand things over…repeatedly. And, it does get easier and easier to remember to give it to God first before I let my mind jump on the worry train and go off the rails. There will always be something you can worry about. That’s how the enemy steals your joy. And, there are situations in life that you can’t help but let affect you. Things like watching a loved one decline. Losing someone or something special. An unexpected diagnosis or financial difficulty. God wants to walk those paths with you. Reach out your hand and take His. He’s so much bigger than anything that troubles you.

❤️

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”
Philippians 4:6-7 NIV

Trailer Trouble...With a Capital T

Wed, 03 Jul 2019 01:30:49 -0600

“Damage to the camper indicating it is no longer towable.”

Whenever I travel with one of my campers, I always circle around and do a visual safety check. I check before I head out. I check when I park for the night. And I check when I get to my destination. Saturday night I stayed at a hotel in Russell, KS. I did my walkabout when I locked her up to go inside and there was nothing wrong. Same thing the next morning before I headed out on the road for the final leg into Denver.

When I arrived at Ben & Sue’s house and I was unhooking, I noticed the front curbside corner of the camper had separated a little. It looked like a couple of screws had popped and all I would need to do is screw them back in. I was hot and tired and not planning to tow anytime soon so I decided to wait till I was better rested. The first chance I had was yesterday morning.

I went out and looked at the corner again. I tried to push back on the panel but it would not move. This indicated to me there was weight behind it and my original idea was not going to work. I got down on my knees and looked back at the base of the trailer where it meets the frame and this is what I was faced with. The other side looks almost as bad.

That silver metal cover is the rock guard. It’s called diamond plate. It is heavy gauge and does NOT tear easily. I knew as soon as I saw it what had happened. When I first bought the camper, I notice there was about a two to three inch water stain on the mattress below one corner of that front window.

These windows notoriously leak. That’s why most camper companies don’t build a camper with them anymore. I asked the previous owner when I was inspecting the camper if it leaked and she said she had never noticed it before. Maybe it happened over the winter and was new. There was another red flag…the front surface had become delaminated. There is a fiberglass material fused over the wood walls in this camper. If there is a leak, over time…the surface will come away from the wood and have a rippled appearance.

It was a red flag that I didn’t understand was HUGE. I was thinking “little r”. Nope….big mama-honkin’ R! The more I camped in this new-to-me camper, the bigger that little leak got. I figured as soon as I had time, I would pop that front window out and re-caulk it. Done. Easy peasy. But it kept raining and I kept busy and then…boom!

What happened was, driving across the washboard that was once I-70 caused the board across the bottom front of the camper (that had obviously softened or rotted) to buckle from the weight of the camper body being repeatedly slammed down on it. This brought the body down over half an inch, dropping it onto the frame that comes out to create the tongue and hitch.

Layman’s terms? The camper is not towable in this condition. There are several scenarios that can happen here.

I could fix it myself. But this is a long, big, BIG job that could entail tearing the camper down to the frame and reconstructing it. I don’t have a place to work undercover. I’m not here long enough to do it...even if I were so inclined. Which I am not.
I could have someone fix it for me. This could cost two to three thousand dollars and the camper itself isn’t worth much more than that. (Come to find out, I paid too much for it, but we live and learn, right?) I’m not willing to put the money into it.
I can sell the camper “as is” with the firm stipulation that it is not roadworthy. This is a viable option. A lot of people are putting little campers in their back yards to use as she-sheds, guest houses, Air B&B accommodations, or playhouses for the kids and grandkids.
I can just leave it here and worry about it next summer, but that isn’t very reasonable. It would take up room at Ben & Sue’s and it would be out in a potentially bad Colorado winter. It’s just putting off the inevitable.

So, plans change. We won’t be camping on this trip except in the driveway of Ben & Sue’s house until I can manage to sell the camper. Mr. FixIt couldn’t find the title at home so he needs to get a new one. In order to do that, he needs the registration. That was in my truck so I sent it to him priority mail and he’ll get it Friday. Then he will send me the new title. And, he will be here a week from Saturday.

I don’t want to say I feel stupid. But I didn’t do what anyone who buys a used camper should do. I didn’t have it inspected by an RV professional. The inside showed no damage…it was pristine. All but that tiny leak. The only thing that made me feel better was this: The only way I could have known that board inside was rotten was to tear the front off the camper and you can’t do that. I had no way of knowing. It was just one of those unfortunate issues that sometimes comes with used campers.

I have backup campers at home. Everything will work out. I am VERY grateful nothing terrible happened on the road like the frame breaking in the middle of Kansas. This is workable…it’s not the end of the world. I will inevitably lose money on this deal, but that’s a lesson learned and an excellent teaching moment when I mentor women campers.

I tell my husband this over and over and over. “You get what you pay for.” I had the money to get a new(er) camper, but I went for the deal. Sometimes that “good deal” just doesn’t work out. And then again….sometimes rainbows come after the worst of storms! I wonder how God is going to use this for good? There is a reason this has happened here and now. I just don’t know what it is yet!

❤️

“It will be a shelter and shade from the heat of the day, and a refuge and hiding place from the storm and rain.” Isaiah 4:6 NIV

Weather Warnings

Mon, 03 Jun 2019 01:30:06 -0600

“Clockwise from top left: Milkweed about to bloom, box turtle preparing to lay eggs, hail along the road, the field we were married in, hail from 10 miles down the road from the Ponderosa”

When you live twenty miles from town and get a severe thunderstorm warning for home, you have to just hope for the best. I always send a quick prayer up when we get those alerts but this time it came while we were in the restaurant having breakfast and didn’t have our phones on us.

As we were driving home, Mr. FixIt’s son called to see if we had hail. They saw a news report with quarter sized hailstones from just a few miles away from the house. When we got closer to home, we started to see leaves on the road looking all the world like chopped salad. There were patches of white hail gathered along the roadside. The creeks were roaring. It didn’t look good.

All we could think of was the campers, my truck, and water in the basement. But when we came around the last bend in the road, the damage just stopped. When we passed the house closest to us, I looked for her garden and it was pristine! No hail here! We rushed downstairs and there was no water in the basement either. God was watching out for us again!

We walked around the fields in the early evening. We came across this box turtle. She had dug a hole and was preparing to lay her eggs. I’ve never seen that before. As we came around the end of the camper we are selling, a doe was standing in the field watching us. We talked quietly to her and she stood still for a long time listening before she moved on.

We found a deer skull on the rocks by the creek…probably scavenged road kill from the two lane out front. The pears are getting bigger on the two trees out front. We got a couple tomato plants on clearance at Walmart so we’ll plant those this week. I also need to start getting the camper packed for the Girl Camper trip this week. And…the grass needs mowed…again.

❤️

“It will be a shelter and shade from the heat of the day, and a refuge and hiding place from the storm and rain.” Isaiah 4:6 NIV

Severe Weather

Thu, 30 May 2019 01:30:57 -0600

“Severe weather, volunteer pumpkins, a more mowing…another day on the Ponderosa.”

As with most of you, I browsed the news yesterday morning and saw the destruction from the many severe storms throughout the Midwest. I know people there…I was praying for them all. I knew we were supposed to get some rain yesterday, but I didn’t know how severe the storm was going to be.

I went to Schoolhouse Quilts around lunchtime to pick up my daughter’s wedding quilt. I need to sew the binding and then it will be finished. I was finishing my coffee while I visited with Carolyn, the owner. My phone rang. It was Mr. FixIt telling me to look at the radar…we were about to get hit hard.

I wrapped it up quickly, paid for the quilting, and ran to the truck just as the rain started. We live in a really small town. A grocery store, a Dollar General, the quilt shop, a pizza place, a gas station, the thrift store, and a couple of churches. That’s about it. It didn’t take long to drive to “the other side of town”.

I was about to the Piggly Wiggly when the lightning started striking all around me. I could see it hitting the hillside in front of me. I saw the flashes out of my peripheral vision…on both sides. I quickly turned into the parking lot, but it was raining too hard and the lightening was coming hard and fast. I couldn’t even pull up close to the store. I think some other people had the same idea.

I pulled my phone out and opened the Weather Channel app. It has a very reliable radar. When I saw it, I understood what a “Severe Thunderstorm Warning” looked like while it was happening. The notice at the top of the screen said “Lightning detected 0 miles north of you.” Yeah…no kidding!

I sent the screen shot to Mr. FixIt and told him where I was and I was going to sit this one out. Then I thought of the leaky basement and really wanted to get home. I closed my eyes and prayed hard. I told Jesus I knew he had calmed the seas when the storm was raging and I trust that He gives us that same power. I told the storm, in Jesus’ name, to break away and part the sky so I could get home safely.

Less that one minute later…the clouds parted. And even though the radar still showed lightning activity…there was nothing near me. I was home in less than two minutes. These are the things that amaze me. Not because I doubt they can be done. They can. I see it all the time. But it amazes me that I would never have done something like that just a few years ago. I was the scientist. The skeptic. The unbeliever.

Coincidence? Maybe. But I’m telling you what I saw immediately after I prayed for it. It doesn’t make me special or important or better than anyone else. It just makes me believe more. The storms eventually moved out by afternoon. Mr. FixIt came home and I mowed the big field while he ran the weed eater and the push mower. We are due for more storms today so I am planning on sitting and working on my daughter’s quilt.

As I was out mowing around the burn pile, I noticed a large amount of green growth. I looked closer and there was a volunteer pumpkin vine growing from the ashes. I smiled. We burned that brush pile the week before our wedding. When the wedding was over, we used the pumpkins for Halloween decorations. Then, after the first freeze and they got soggy, Mr. FixIt threw them on the brush pile. That’s what I love about WV. You can throw a seed out there and it can grow all on its own.

Same with love.

❤️

““Teacher,” said John, “we saw someone driving out demons in your name and we told him to stop, because he was not one of us.” “Do not stop him,” Jesus said. “For no one who does a miracle in my name can in the next moment say anything bad about me, for whoever is not against us is for us.” Mark 9:38-40 NIV

Memorial Day 2019

Mon, 27 May 2019 01:30:40 -0600

“He was a soldier. He was a son.”

They called him Sonny. He was their bright ray of sunshine. Smart, sensitive, talented, destined to go far. When Grandma and Pop-Pop got the telegram that their Sonny was gone, part of them died in that moment as well. People said they were never the same. I wouldn’t know what they were like before. I was not yet two when Sonny’s plane went down.

Sometimes I think I remember him. But then I realize it’s his pictures and the loving stories told about him that made my Uncle Sonny alive for me. I was told he loved me. He told my mom he wanted a picture of me on a bearskin rug in my “all-together”…in other words, a chubby baby with a hundred fat rolls, buns up on a blanket. This was back in the days when something like that could be done without thinking the person admiring the photo is a pedophile.

Mom complied and I was told he kept that photo in the cockpit of the plane. But, mom told me a lot of things that turned out to be untrue. For instance, she said he was shot down by Russians. In 1955. Over Landstuhl Air Base in Germany. She said grandma was comforted when she received his personal effects and his wallet didn’t smell like smoke. She was comforted that her boy didn’t burn.

Many years later, when the internet was new and I was helping my mom with her beloved genealogy, I started digging into the crash that took Uncle Sonny’s life. I think the only thing I had to work with at the time was a dial up modem and CompuServe. After meticulously searching, I came up with an aviation archaeologist. He specialized in finding reports on old plane crashes. I believe I paid him $40 and a few weeks later, I received a thick packet in the mail.

The archaeologist came up with the official Air Force report of the crash and in the process of reading it and asking questions, I got a lot of answers. First, he definitely was not shot down by the Russians. Secondly, pilots do not fly with personal effects, meaning…neither his wallet nor my picture accompanied him in the cockpit that fateful day. That was information I didn’t share with the rest of the family. I don’t remember if my Grandma was still living at this time or not. There’s just some things you don’t need to discuss after some sense of resolution has been met.

There was information that I found disturbing. Sonny needed to log some flight hours. The only plane available that day was an old fighter jet that was on it’s way to become a static display. In other words, it was past its usefulness. In the three days leading up to the crash, four separate engines had been installed.

The morning of the crash dawned gray and foggy. Uncle Sonny went through the usual preflight check. The ground crew walked around the plane and somehow, someone failed to notice the intake baffles were in the wrong position for the weather conditions. When he took off, he flew around the base a couple of times without incident. Then someone noticed a shift in the engine sound and looked up. The plane had slowed down considerably and was losing altitude.

No one can know for certain what went on in the cockpit that day. The witness on the ground said he couldn’t understand why my uncle didn’t eject and let the plane go down. It wasn’t until the full investigation that it was determined the trajectory of the plane would have sent it into the barracks where countless airmen would still be preparing for their day. Instead, Uncle Sonny steered the plane toward an open potato field that had recently been plowed. I’m sure, with his farming experience, he knew that would be a fairly soft place to land.

As he struggled to keep the engine going and the plane aloft, he noticed a gap between the trees surrounding the potato field. It was narrow, but if he tipped his right wing at the right moment, he could just squeak through. Unfortunately, the sudden dip in the right wing caused the engine to stall even further and the tip of the wing hit the ground. This caused the plane to cartwheel.

Uncle Sonny was found still strapped in his ejector seat in an upright position…as though he were waiting for someone to come by and have a chat. His helmet was cracked from the impact and he died from blunt force trauma. And, even though his wallet wasn’t with him and neither was my bare butt photo…he didn’t burn. It was over quickly.

In my opinion, my Uncle Sonny was a hero. I’m sure he saved countless lives that day. But there was no award, no medal, no call from a grateful President. Maybe that was best. Grandma was not one for making a fuss. “Fools names, like their faces, always seen in public places.” She was a private, unassuming woman with great dignity.

Sonny was laid to rest on a hilltop cemetery fifteen or so miles from the farm. One by one, our loved ones joined him. First Pop-Pop, then Grandma, then my mom, then Uncle Bob. I go twice a year to see them and I always hang around him a little longer. I wish I could have known him. I am comforted knowing there was such a beautiful homecoming when the Lord came to take the others to join my Uncle Sonny and Jesus.

This day is so much more than another day off, another reason for a party. This is the day when we honor the fallen…all who gave their lives in the line of duty. Not just military. We remember all who have gone before us and we decorate their graves. Thank you…for giving your all. My heart is with those who had to go on without you.

❤️

“For the greatest love of all is a love that sacrifices all. And this great love is demonstrated when a person sacrifices his life for his friends.”
John 15:13 TPT

I Choose Joy!

Tue, 30 Apr 2019 01:30:27 -0600

“I’m choosing joy by choosing to remember the special moments we spent at the seashore last week.”

Even though Pastor Justin’s message Sunday morning was about choosing joy, I just had one of my “bad nights”. Yesterday’s post indicated I felt the weight of the world on my shoulders, and I did. Re-entry from vacation was part of it. Being overly tired was another. And, after being gone a week, there was a lot of catching up to do and we just heard one bad thing after another all day. It just hit me hard. Combine that with eating a greasy burger too late in the evening and I was up half the night.

I tried all my go-to remedies and nothing seemed to help. I was up pacing the floor. I tried snuggling with Mr. FixIt and that helped, but I was too hot. Finally, I took a Benadryl because I had been out mowing all afternoon and my head was throbbing. I settled into the guest room, opened the window to let the cool night air in, and read my Bible till I got drowsy. When I finally slept, it was sound and deep and restful…just what I asked God for in my nightly prayers. He is a good Father…His lullaby is perfect.

I hit the ground running yesterday and went for the MRI of my foot. I’ve had several MRI’s in my lifetime. I couldn’t believe it took a whole hour! It was an open MRI and, of course, the only thing in it was my foot. But the noises were the same. The technician turned up the music really loud and I listened to the country station for an hour. The only hard part was boredom thinking of all the things I could have been doing. Laying still on my back for an hour on a hard table wasn’t too much fun. I just used the time to have a conversation with God.

I needed to have fasting blood drawn from an appointment a couple of weeks ago and I kept forgetting to go in so I did that. Then I stopped at the mall and bought yet another dress for the wedding. I can’t seem to make up my mind but this one I really liked and it was 50% off. I can wear it to my niece’s college graduation this weekend and see how I like it. I even found some cute little sandals that were also half price. I’m not buying any more dresses!

My last stop was Walmart for new sheets for the camper. I’m not one for keeping a lot of old sheets around. I buy two pair and rotate them till they’re worn out. I’ll bet I could count on two hands how many sets of sheets I’ve had in my life. Funny thing…they are exactly the same pattern as the sheets I bought for the big camper five years ago. I would have used those, but they were full size and the new camper ya s a queen bed. I also picked up a couple of throw rugs and a new shower curtain. Everything else will get moved from the old camper to the new one.

Before we leave, I need to treat the fresh water tank with a mild bleach solution and run it through the pipes. Then I need to put some Dawn dish soap, Calgon Water Softener, more water, and a bag of ice in the black tank and take the camper for a drive to let it all slosh around in the tank and dislodge anything gunking up the works. I will drive up to a rest area up north and empty the tanks and get them all ready for Thursday. Once I get back home, I’ll make the beds and wipe down the surfaces. I’ll wipe out the fridge and the cabinets and wash the floors. Once the bathroom is cleaned, I can put down the new rugs. I’ll pack it up and we’ll be ready to go!

So…today I choose joy. Even in the busy rush of life and travel preparation. Just breathe. Just breathe.

❤️

“When anxiety was great within me, your consolation brought me joy.” Psalm 94:19 NIV

The Weight of the World

Mon, 29 Apr 2019 01:30:15 -0600

“Sometimes things seem too heavy. That’s when I need to stop and read my devotionals.”

Don’t you sometimes feel like you’re carrying a whole lot of weight on your shoulders? One should come home from vacation feeling refreshed and relaxed. While we had a fabulous vacation and I enjoyed every single minute of it, I always come home with a mountain of work to do and if I’m not careful, I’ll forget the joy of the vacation altogether.

When we got home Saturday night, it was raining but we emptied the truck as best we could. This left containers laying around to be emptied. Before we could put anything away, we had to clean the kitchen counters from spraying for ants last week. Then all the stuff that had been moved to the island to get moved back to the counter. THEN the kitchen stuff could be put away. This after driving twelve hours…the majority of which was done by my sweet husband.

We were up early and out the door for church with the grandkids then our usual breakfast. We had errands to run before we finally got back home. Mr. FixIt had the rest of the truck to empty while I cleaned the kitchen and put away more stuff. Then he got out the push mower and weed eater and I hopped on the riding mower. Three hours later, we gave up because it was cold and we were hungry.

We have really felt our age this last year, it seems. Aches and pains that never slowed us down are starting to get in the way. We can’t work sunup to sundown like we once did and that is frustrating. Made more so by the post-vacation blues. The next couple of weeks are going to be super busy. We need to finish the mowing at the Ponderosa then we have to go mow at the farm, I have an MRI on my foot today to see what the problem is that’s causing pain, then I have to de-winterize and prepare the new camper for her maiden voyage.

We leave Thursday for Indiana to see my niece graduate from college. We get back on Sunday, I’ll have one day to clean up the camper, restock, and do laundry before I turn around and take her up north for a week with the Girl Campers. Then I’ll have some down time. Knitting and napping and sitting around the campfire will be the order of the day. Until then, every day is jam-packed with busy. It is during times like this I have to actually set an an alarm and force myself to sit down and do my bible study. Those are the moments that carry me through the rest of it.

❤️

“Very early in the morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house and went off to a solitary place, where he prayed.”
Mark 1:35 NIV

Good Friday

Fri, 19 Apr 2019 01:30:21 -0600

“My grandma’s pretty posies…I love to visit them.”

I ran to the farm yesterday to pick up my laundry I left hanging to dry. I took a quick walkabout to see Grandma’s posies. She loved them so much and I always feel so close to her when I see them.

Grandma loved Easter time. Her flowers were beautiful and she almost always had all of her family together to go to church. I feel terrible that I won’t be attending church with the kids this weekend, but there is a church right across the road from the condo so we will still get to go to an Easter service.

The bags are packed. Going to the time share is much like camping…we take extra linens and pots and pans because the one’s there are somewhat lacking in substance. We also bring some dry goods with us because groceries down there are so expensive. So, the truck will be packed first thing in the morning and we’ll hit the road no later than 9:00.

Small group last night was wonderful. I talked to the girls about Passover and the rituals around the Seder meal. I brought some traditional foods for them to taste. They weren’t crazy about the gefilte fish!

Kathy spoke about Easter. She told how Jesus washed the feet of the Disciples. Then, she prepared a basin and pitcher of warm water and washed all of our feet. It was a humbling experience. When she was done, I stepped forward and invited her to sit so that I could wash hers. I followed her example and told her the beautiful attributes Jesus sees when He looks at her. I thanked her for being such a shining example of a humble servant for all of us to see. And I told her how much I dearly love her.

What a wonderful way to start out our week!

❤️

“It was just before the Passover Festival. Jesus knew that the hour had come for him to leave this world and go to the Father. Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end. The evening meal was in progress, and the devil had already prompted Judas, the son of Simon Iscariot, to betray Jesus. Jesus knew that the Father had put all things under his power, and that he had come from God and was returning to God; so he got up from the meal, took off his outer clothing, and wrapped a towel around his waist. After that, he poured water into a basin and began to wash his disciples’ feet, drying them with the towel that was wrapped around him. He came to Simon Peter, who said to him, “Lord, are you going to wash my feet?” Jesus replied, “You do not realize now what I am doing, but later you will understand.” “No,” said Peter, “you shall never wash my feet.” Jesus answered, “Unless I wash you, you have no part with me.” “Then, Lord,” Simon Peter replied, “not just my feet but my hands and my head as well!” Jesus answered, “Those who have had a bath need only to wash their feet; their whole body is clean. And you are clean, though not every one of you.” For he knew who was going to betray him, and that was why he said not every one was clean. When he had finished washing their feet, he put on his clothes and returned to his place. “Do you understand what I have done for you?” he asked them. “You call me ‘Teacher’ and ‘Lord,’ and rightly so, for that is what I am. Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another’s feet. I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you. Very truly I tell you, no servant is greater than his master, nor is a messenger greater than the one who sent him. Now that you know these things, you will be blessed if you do them.” John 13:1-17 NIV

A Good Tired

Wed, 17 Apr 2019 01:30:15 -0600

“Spring flowers make my heart sing!”

Now that the taxes are done, submitted, and accepted, our attention can turn to other things….mainly, mowing. With the rains we received over the weekend, the grass growth was remarkable and it couldn’t be put off another day. We had a neighbor brush hog the far field last fall when we were preparing for the wedding. That field is really rough and needs to be mowed really regularly or we’ll have to resort to the brush hog again. I got about half the field mowed at the Ponderosa then we had to head for the farm. Mr. FixIt mowed while I hauled dropped limbs and did laundry. It was 7:30 by the time we were done and ready to head back home.

This is the kind of tired that feels good. When you do a good solid day’s work and you have something to show for it. When your muscles are sore and you’re hungry and you know you’re going to sleep soundly…that’s a good day’s work. We still have much to do to prepare for our trip but once we are there…it’s beach time, baby. I can’t wait to see Ben & Sue…my son-in-law’s parents. They are joining us for the week and it’s going to be SO much fun. They are the dearest people and we can’t wait to show them all around the Outer Banks!

I do have a favor of you. I have an appointment with the orthopedist today for this pain I have in my foot. I think it’s a Morton’s Neuroma and if so, I will likely need a shot in the ball of my foot, which…as you can well imagine…I am not looking forward to. I am preparing myself with lots of prayers and meditation. Please add me to your prayer list that everything goes smoothly, the pain is little to nonexistent, and that whatever they do, it takes care of the pain and I can get back to exercising regularly! Thank you in advance!!!

I’ll let you know how it went!

❤️

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. I will be found by you,” declares the Lord, “and will bring you back from captivity. I will gather you from all the nations and places where I have banished you,” declares the Lord, “and will bring you back to the place from which I carried you into exile.””
Jeremiah 29:11-14 NIV

Darkness into Light

Sun, 14 Apr 2019 01:30:27 -0600

“Looking back, I am humbled by my deliverance.”

The stress of doing taxes this week made me sit back and reflect how differently I cope now as opposed to twenty years ago. Back then, I felt like that guy on Ted Mack’s Amateur Hour. You know the one…he twirled plates on top of sticks. First one, then two, then five…and eventually, he had about twelve of them spinning. He ran from one stick to another, desperately trying to keep all the plates spinning without crashing to the ground.

I did a great job spinning plates till…I didn’t. I burned out. I hit the wall. There were lots of reasons why, but the bottom line was…I didn’t have good coping skills. I had an alcoholic father. I seriously should have known not to push the drinking thing. But, more and more, I relied on alcohol to prop me up.

I had situational anxiety. Going to a party? I’d have a drink in the bathroom while I put on my makeup and called on “Ginny the Party Girl” to step forward…emboldened by a beer. Going to the game with the hospital administrator and his wife? Drink LOTS of beers. Hosting a dinner party for the medical staff? Wine…more wine! It got worse and worse.

When my marriage started to fall apart, I was terrified. I had no idea how to cope because I worshiped at the altar of my husband. I only had a cursory relationship with God and I didn’t know Jesus at all. I was relying entirely on someone fairly unreliable….myself. When thing became difficult between me and my husband, I started drinking about an hour before he was due home so I could get through the evening. Many times I just got too wasted to cook so I went to bed, leaving my family to fend for themselves.

At the very end of our marriage, I found myself standing in a closet in the dark, drinking really expensive tequila straight from the bottle. I knew…KNEW in that moment that I was in dire straits. Unfortunately, when you are in that place, it’s really, really hard to pull yourself out of it without some help. I was just functional enough to fool people into thinking I still had it together…but I did not.

Our last Thanksgiving, my best friend’s husband caught me sneaking into their kitchen during dinner and drinking shots of tequila. I fell asleep on their couch while all the guests were at the table having dessert. I was desperately ill, but I was also an embarrassment. My husband didn’t know what to do with me. When I overdosed a couple of months later, I made the decision for him and I went away to get the help I needed.

Now, as a Christian, I know that God uses all things for my good and for HIS glory. Last week in church, I said my usual prayer…”Lord, if you have a message just for me, please deliver it through Pastor Justin.” And, in his message, God sent this…

“God will use your experiences for your good. He will use them for His glory. Your experiences are your story and your story has power. It has the power to change people. Don’t be afraid to put yourself out there and share your testimony.”

I smiled.

God himself told me in that moment that, no matter how bad I got…no matter how messy my life was…no matter how dysfunctional I had been…He had saved me. HE came for ME! He left the 99 and came for the ONE. And when He found me, He carried me on His shoulders back to the flocks and announced to all…”Look, I’ve found my lost sheep! Come! Help me celebrate!”

I know God has great things in store for me. I anticipate the unexpected, just like Christine Caine preaches in her book, Unexpected: Leave Fear Behind, Move Forward in Faith, Embrace the Adventure. Yes, sometimes the unexpected is bad. But, sometimes it is amazing. I could never in a million years have imagined back when I was in the throes of torment…where I’d be today. I am so incredibly grateful that Jesus never gave up on me. He pursued me relentlessly because He had a plan. He knew what I was capable of. I am so humbled by His Love. Through Him, I can turn a dark and painful time into a testimony of the Goodness of God

On this…Palm Sunday…remember the triumphal return of Jesus to Jerusalem is also the beginning of Holy Week. It is the true beginning of the end of His earthly walk. May you all be blessed and humbled in the coming week.

❤️

““What do you think? If a man owns a hundred sheep, and one of them wanders away, will he not leave the ninety-nine on the hills and go to look for the one that wandered off? And if he finds it, truly I tell you, he is happier about that one sheep than about the ninety-nine that did not wander off. In the same way your Father in heaven is not willing that any of these little ones should perish.”
Matthew 18:12-14 NIV

Always be Humble and Kind

Sat, 13 Apr 2019 01:30:37 -0600

“I love when God sends me a not-so-gentle reminder to chill out!”

As I’m writing this, I’m propped up in bed, the windows flung wide, the peepers peeping their springtime love song. It is 10:30pm…I just finished a long and particularly grueling day sitting in front of my computer, doing my taxes. One frustration after another…but I doggedly pressed on with only a couple of short tempered outbursts. Finally…finally I got it all filled out and pressed “send” only to find out, yet again, my laptop won’t connect to the internet. I mean…it SAYS it’s connected, but I get a page that says “Cannot find page. Check your internet connection.” It works elsewhere, just not here. So, I said enough is enough for one day and I will pick it up tomorrow….today to you.

In preparation for a day that could be stress-filled, I spent an extra long time in scripture before I got out of bed. I read my devotionals. I listened to a little praise music. I put on the full armor of God. And still, after twelve hours in front of the screen, I found my stress level rising. Poor Mr. FixIt steered clear of me most of the day and when he did have to sit with me, he was very loving and supportive. Good man.

When I finally called it quits for the day, I was too tired to even go out to TOW-Wanda to write…something I really look forward to when the weather is warm. I came into the bedroom to write, fully prepared to let loose a diatribe about how darned frustrating it is to spend a whole day on the taxes only to find out you have to pay a BOATLOAD. I climbed into bed, set up my little lap desk, opened my iPad, and God smacked me right between the eyes.

There, staring back at me was a picture of a woman squatting down in front of an absolutely emaciated young child…so tiny and frail and nothing but skin and bones. She’s holding a water bottle up to the child’s lips….the little one with her head tipped back, gratefully taking a sip as she clings to a crust of bread in her tiny hand.

I am humbled…ashamed of my anger and frustration that I felt only seconds before.

Look what I have. A roof over my head, food on my table, clean water and air, a warm bed to sleep in, health, family…God.

Yes, paying a big tax bill was not what I expected. But you know what? Just two weeks ago, God gave me a hefty settlement check for the accident I was in two years ago. I had a brain bleed, but can walk and talk. I lost four months of my memory, but my family didn’t have to lay me in the ground. And that check will cover my taxes and then some.

There is always something to be grateful for. ALWAYS.

Thank you, God…for your provision. And for the stern reminder of how good I have it. You are a good, good Father.

❤️

“Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love.” Ephesians 4:2 NIV

What a CRAZY Week!

Sat, 06 Apr 2019 01:30:47 -0600

“The perfect little camper!”

When I started out this week, I never dreamed I’d be the owner of SIX campers by the weekend!!! What??? Yes, that’s right…S-I-X campers! Ok, when Mr. FixIt and I started dating, he had two campers (a hybrid and a 27 foot Jayco) and I had one (a 30’ Starcraft). Then, by fall I bought our fourth camper…a 1967 Franklin I named “Joy”. She is still out at the farm and I need to get her over to the Ponderosa so I can work on her some more.

I picked up the little camper yesterday and I’m telling you…she’s a little cream puff. She is immaculate inside with a Sealy memory foam mattress. (Color me happy!) Mr. FixIt went with me to check her out carefully and he agreed I got a good deal on a great little camper. Hooking her up was easy peasy. We stopped at the first gas station and checked the air pressure. This is especially important every single time you tow. Remember the blowout I had coming home from Blackwater Falls a few years ago? It was caused by undetected low tire pressure. I learned a valuable and expensive lesson that day. All four tires were low. This happens when a camper sits for a while. We pumped them all up and headed for home.

The second test would be to see how well Frieda pulled this camper. I was sure she would do well, but this is an 18’ camper. I’ve seen different weights. An online spec sheet says 3740 and the tag on the trailer says 4200. There are some steep hills on the drive home so I watched carefully. Frieda towed that trailer like a boss and the transmission temp didn’t get up over 197 degrees which is perfect. When we got home, I felt the hubs and they were barely warm to the touch so that is wonderful.

I pulled the camper around to the side of the house where the water connector is. The exterior surface is fairly dirty and dull. I wanted to see how it would clean up. I used my Norwex cloth and cleaning paste on a two-foot square section and it looked brand new when I was done. When it started getting dark, I went in the camper and stretched out on the yummy mattress. It’s wonderful! I opened the rock guard from the front window and it is exactly like my first camper…a Sportsmen Classic by K-Z RV.

I loved my first camper and I’ve got to tell you…I love this one more. If my first camper would have had a dinette with a separate bed, I never would have gotten rid of it. This one has exactly what I’ve always wanted and I’m thrilled!

Now, a friend has a 30’ camper that she is giving me and we are going Monday to bring her home….making SIX campers. Mr. FixIt has one for sale now and TOW-Wanda Grande will be on the market as soon as I get her emptied and cleaned up.

“Hi, my name is Ginny…and I have a camper addiction.”

This was absolutely, without a doubt, a prayer answered. This camper is more economical, practical, safer to tow….Thank You, God!

Oh, an update on the bathroom. We managed to go another day without killing each other. However, we did end up having to cut a big chunk out of the drywall to get the bottom piece of the shower stall inserted. AND…there was yet ANOTHER trip to Lowes. Mr. FixIt’s measuring is impeccable. I am not kidding…that opening isn’t 1/16th of an inch bigger than the shower base. I am in the presence of engineering greatness…seriously!

❤️

“In their hearts humans plan their course, but the Lord establishes their steps.”
Proverbs 16:9 NIV

Vibrant Women

Mon, 01 Apr 2019 01:30:37 -0600

“Vibrant Women…a women’s ministry.”

Something phenomenal happened Friday night and it has taken me this long to process it. Actually, I’m sure I’ll be processing it for some time to come. We have a husband-wife team leading our church. It has been wonderful to watch Pastor Heather growing into a strong leader for the women of our region. A little over three years ago, God planted a seed in her to lead a Women’s Ministry. She gathered her friends together, told them her ideas for this movement, and asked them to start feeding her possible names. When she heard “Vibrant Women”, she was moved. Vigorous. Energetic. Lively. Vital. All words that resonated with where she wanted to go with this movement….words that described women of strong faith.

This was the third Vibrant Women event held at our church…the second I have attended. It’s come a long way since the beginning. I think there might have been two-hundred women at the first one. Friday night saw almost SEVEN HUNDRED women packed into our church. There wasn’t a seat in the house. The sound booth said at one point the decibel scale peaked out at the same level as a jet engine. It was crazy fun. The energy level in that room was amazing.

We had a guest pastor…Pastor April Carter of the Together Church in Yakima, Washington. Pastor April spoke about Living Beyond Fear. Oh….she touched every single one of us. At the end of her message, she told a personal story. Someone who works in her church called her…panic stricken. Then he arrived home, his house was surrounded by police, fire, and ambulance crews. They would not let him in the house. The only thing he knew was, something happened that involved his son. Pastor April and Pastor Micahn headed to the hospital to meet them.

As they sat there, waiting for word of what was going on, she absentmindedly fingered a necklace she was wearing that a friend gave her. It is engraved…”I Can Do Hard Things”. The time dragged slowly by. They prayed together. They held each other up. And, finally…the doctor came out. Their friends’ son had gotten his hands on a gun and somehow accidentally shot himself. And they could not save him. Pastor April closed her eyes and repeated to herself…

“I can do hard things. I can do hard things. I can do hard things.”

Since Mr. Virgo died, I haven’t been so good in medical emergencies. There have been times I haven’t been able to show up for people who need me to do hard things. Pastor April challenged us to put on our boxing gloves and get in the ring of life and fight. Listening to her, I felt empowered. I felt stronger. I felt like trying harder and being the best version of myself I can be. I mean, isn’t that what faith does for us?

“I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” Even the hard things.

We were doubly blessed in that Pastor April delivered our message at church yesterday too so we got to hear her twice this weekend. I googled her name on YouTube last night and there was a message called “Hard Reset”. You should give it a listen if you are interested. She is very good.

❤️

“I can do all this through him who gives me strength.”
Philippians 4:13 NIV

Sunday Memories

Sun, 24 Mar 2019 01:30:54 -0600

“Grandma always carried a fresh hanky wherever she went.”

I was looking through my picture albums on my iPad yesterday. I sometimes browse to find old memories that stir up a story for you. This one did just that. I’ve been writing about The Farm since early on in this blog. Grandma’s farm holds a king-sized piece of real estate in my heart so my stories often center around my memories there. And, since I am knee deep in editing my rough draft for the book, I have been writing and re-reading these stories.

For as far back as I can remember, my grandma tied a shiny dime in the corner of a clean hanky and gave one to each of us kids to take to church. The hanky for our little noses…the shiny dime for the collection plate. Then Pop-Pop gave us each a stick of Beeman’s gum. Actually, we only got half a stick till we got older. I can remember when I ‘graduated’ to a full stick…I felt so grown up.

“Bethel Chapel…the little church on the hill. I drew this picture June 28, 2001…sitting on the sidewalk out front.”

The little church-house up on the hill has been there since June 9, 1914. It hasn’t had a lot done to it in all those years. Two rooms were built on the back for classrooms and an indoor bathroom…something we didn’t have the pleasure of when I was growing up. The windows have been replaced. The belfry was listing to one side so it’s been shored up. It has been painted countless times over the years. When my cousin Rick and his wife Charlotte got married, my Aunt Peeps painted that church all by herself so it would be fresh for the wedding. That woman loved to paint!

I have some really wonderful memories of that little church. And I’ve had some of my most traumatic there. This was the church where the little circuit preacher literally scared the pee out of me and I headed off to find God some other way. That led me to eventually becoming Jewish for twenty-seven years, and now…here I am…full circle and back to my roots. This was also the church where my parents were married, where my Pop-Pop was one of the lay-ministers, and where his funeral was held. Many Sundays I sat in the hard wooden pews as a little girl with my feet dangling mid-air, clutching my little hanky and worrying out the knot to get my dime ready for the collection. Many Sundays, Aunt Idy played the rickety old piano…it’s keys sticking and horribly out of tune.

Aunt Idy lived in a crooked white house. She was a tiny, frail little thing…never married. She helped care for her invalid sister and brother and she was my grandma’s best friend. Once a week, Aunty Idy called to get the latest “news” for the Ritchie County Gazette. She wrote the column about the latest goings on up Dutchman road and Grandma always cringed when she saw something about herself in the paper. She abided by the rule “Fool’s names, like their faces, always seen in public places.” It was usually something like “so-and-so had a visit this week from such-and-such from somewhere” or “Mr. & Mrs. Somebody went to Parkersburg this week to see the doctor. All were given a clean bill of heath!” Thank God Grandma never told her about hemorrhoids!

Grandma’s hankies. I have a couple of them somewhere in my things…the things I couldn’t part with. I don’t know that my kids will be interested…or even my grandkids. So, maybe when it’s my time to go, I’ll tie a shiny dime in the corner and go looking for Grandma.

❤️

“Remember this: Whoever sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and whoever sows generously will also reap generously. Each of you should give what you have decided in your heart to give, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver. And God is able to bless you abundantly, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work. As it is written: “They have freely scattered their gifts to the poor; their righteousness endures forever.”” 2 Corinthians 9:6-9 NIV

Fancy Meeting Jew Here

Sat, 16 Mar 2019 01:30:21 -0600

“You don’t see tzitzit around these parts very often.”

The other evening, I was home by myself and had a hankering for pizza. I’ll bet I have had one slice of pizza in the last six years and Giovanni’s was calling my name. Mr. FixIt doesn’t like this place so, since he wasn’t at home, I decided to go by myself. Ohhhhhh, I wasn’t sorry. Although the crust was just the slightest bit too soft on the bottom center, it was overall divine!

I threw caution to the wind and had them paint the crust with garlic butter. What the heck…I’d already blown any semblance of health food out of the water with this endeavor, might as well take it all the way! A wonderful sauce, a little skimpy on the pepperoni, generous on the mushrooms and the cheese was that perfect cross between crispy brown and ooooey-gooooey perfection. Ah, yes…I thoroughly enjoyed that.

I took my iPad with me so I could write in the restaurant and make an evening of it. As I was setting up, a man and his little girl walked in the door. I saw twenty people walk in the door that evening. None of them made an impression like this guy. The first thing I noticed was his tzitzit…the specially knotted tassels on his tallit katan…an undergarment traditionally worn under an observant Jew’s clothing. The second thing I noticed was his kippah, also known as a yarmulke…the skullcap Jewish men wear.

I looked at him and smiled in amusement. This is not something you normally see in small town West Virginia…very, VERY small town. Having lived as a Jew for twenty-seven years, I am quite familiar with the trappings of Judaism and I just had to know more about this guy. He went to the counter and picked up his pizzas and filled his drink cups. I finally caught his eye.

“You don’t see tzitzit around these parts very often.” I smiled.

“You don’t see very many people around here who know what they are.” He smiled back and shook my hand. “Mike.”

I took his hand in mine. “Ginny. It’s very nice to meet you.”

Turns out, Mike is originally from West Virginia but he lived in Israel for a long time. He met his Israeli wife there. Their oldest child was born in Israel. The baby was born here. We had a really interesting conversation about the reception he gets in small town America. He said in this little town, it’s fine…but in my hometown of Parkersburg, he has had some negative experiences. Hate is such an ugly thing. I truly believe the hate he (and I, myself) experienced is one of ignorance. It’s a family disease when you live your whole life without meeting anyone much different than yourself.

There isn’t much of a Jewish Congregation in Parkersburg…and none to my knowledge in the surrounding countryside. There used to be a small synagogue in town, but I don’t believe it’s there anymore. To make matters worse, Mike is a Messianic Jew…meaning he is Jewish, but he has accepted Jesus. In all actuality, I could be considered a Messianic Jew because I still feel a special kinship to the Jewish people. Many of my family members are Jewish.

Jews don’t necessarily take kindly to Messianic Jews. They do not believe Jesus is the Messiah. So they don’t consider a Messianic Jew to be…well, Jewish. And Christians don’t quite get it either. Here you have someone who says he has accepted Jesus, but is wearing the traditional garb of the Jewish people. They get kind of stuck in the middle.

I have a personal understanding of this position. When I came to West Virginia for Thanksgiving one year, I had a family member tell me to put my Star of David inside my sweater so I wouldn’t upset our Grandma. Let me tell you…I had a little quiet discussion with her and told her my Grandma loved me for who I was, and didn’t love me any less for my beliefs. I threatened to make the discussion a little louder right there in the dining room in front of the whole family and she backed off. I’ll stand up for the underdog any day of the week and I have to tell you…discrimination stings. I had never, ever experienced that before and it was terrible.

I handed Mike my business card and asked him to have his wife contact me. I’d love to befriend them and normalize the Judeo-Christian experience for them here. I know there are those who are highly suspicious of Messianic Jews because of the “Jews for Jesus” movement, but I don’t categorize people…I just love them. I thought to myself, maybe others will come to be accepting of them as well. I waved to them as they headed out the door and I sat back and smiled. Nope, you just never know what you might find in small town America. I think I may have found a gem.

❤️

“Remember your leaders, those who spoke God’s message to you. Reflect on the results of their way of life, and imitate their trust — Yeshua the Messiah is the same yesterday, today and forever.” Messianic Jews (Heb) 13:7-8 CJB

Tap Tap Tap

Mon, 11 Mar 2019 01:30:31 -0600

“Typing away…tap, tap, tap!”

I am back to work on the book. I’m editing the first rough draft and it’s going really well, actually. My prayer going into this was to have a cheerful heart and find joy in the process. It’s amazing what a change in attitude can do in making a normally arduous task into something of a pleasure. Fresh eyes and a little distance gives you a new perspective and it’s easier to identify where the story needs polishing.

I took yesterday off. Grandma always instructed us to keep the Sabbath. She told me if I ever sewed anything on Sunday, I’d spend all of eternity picking it out with my teeth. I can approach editing with more joy than before, but that doesn’t mean I want to spend all eternity doing it! We went to church with the family and then brunch.

I bought the piece to fix the toilet at the farm. I need to fill the propane tanks for TOW-Wanda. Then I can hole up in the camper and write. Oh…and I finally took down the Christmas tree. I figured it was time with the spring forward thing!

We had such a lovely warm day yesterday. We got out of the truck after church and the peepers were singing! That is definitely the harbinger of spring. We made it through another winter!

Oh, I wanted to tell you about something that happened last week. Actually, it started about a month ago. I had a small mole on my temple that suddenly started to grow. I didn’t think much of it, but when it became tender and was really getting quite noticeable, I figured it was about time to call the dermatologist to go in and have it taken off.

Then I heard a sermon on healings. The premise was to not only pray for the healing….but to believe in the healing and thank God for it as if it had already occurred. Last week, I placed my finger on the growth and thanked God for taking it away for me. I just believed it was gone. I really wish I would have taken a picture of the growth for proof because…in two days’ time, it quite literally dried up and fell off! I run my fingers over the smooth skin where this growth was and I am just so amazed. Power of suggestion? Placebo effect? Nah…I’m going with divine intervention! Isn’t that amazing? ❤️

“Heal me, Lord, and I will be healed; save me and I will be saved, for you are the one I praise.” Jeremiah 17:14 NIV

A New Perspective

Fri, 08 Mar 2019 02:30:44 -0600

“It never occurred to me to apply the Serenity Prayer to grief, but it makes perfect sense.”

I used to be a social drinker. For a long time, I told myself that anyway. And, I suppose it was true if you considered every day having at least one, maybe two glasses of wine with dinner…”social” drinking. I mean…I WAS with people, right? I never really saw it as a problem. When I was pregnant with my second daughter, I didn’t drink at all and it never bothered me. After she was born, I had a small glass of wine in the evenings. The doctor said it was good for me and it relaxed the baby. Whatever the doctor says, right?

Once the baby was weaned, I was back to my two glasses every day. It didn’t really become a problem till the last year I was with Hubby #2. My marriage was on the rocks. I couldn’t fix it and I couldn’t face losing it. So, we put doilies on the elephant in the room and I mixed a pitcher of Martinis…for myself…before dinner. If it wasn’t Martinis, it was Tequila…or really good Scotch…or stiff Bloody Mary’s…or a bottle of excellent Cabernet. I was self medicating…and that was a problem.

It interfered with my relationships…with my husband, with my kids, with my friends. I knew my marriage was circling the drain and I was going down with the ship. It wasn’t till after the overdose that I saw the light. I woke up in the ICU and knew I’d hit rock bottom and something had to change. I’ve never touched a drop since January 5th, 2000. And I can honestly say, I’ve never had the slightest craving, not the tiniest bit of desire to drink alcohol or take prescription pain meds. Nothing.

For a period of time, I went to AA meetings…nine months, maybe. I know there are people who work that program and it saves lives. I know that for a fact. I also know, God can lift that burden off of you in a heartbeat because I am living proof of that. For the longest time, I only related the Serenity Prayer to AA. It is recited at the meetings, so I took a narrow view of its usefulness.

What if…what if we use the Serenity Prayer on grief?

“God, grant me the Serenity to accept the things I cannot change;”

To this, we can say….”God, I cannot change the fact that he died. Help me to accept that.”

“Courage to change the things I can;”

To this, we can say…”God, help me walk in a way that honors him. Give me the courage to face this new life alone. Make me strong in my faith so that I can change the things in my life that no long serve me.”

“And the Wisdom to know the difference.”

To this, we can say…”God, make me wise in my decision making. Give me discernment in my dealings with people. Bring me the wisdom of knowing when to hang on to things and when to let go.”

It honestly never occurred to me to use the Serenity Prayer on anything out of the context of alcohol…maybe drugs. But not Grief, or pain, or depression, or anxiety. This opens doors to another avenue of prayer and…I can never have too much prayer in my life. ❤️

““I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”” - John 16:33 NIV

Feed Me!

Thu, 07 Mar 2019 02:30:52 -0600

“A redbird just makes my day!”

I fixed my coffee and sat down at Grandma’s window to read my morning devotions before I commenced editing the rough draft yesterday. A red flash caught my eye and I looked out to see a cardinal at the feeder. It didn’t take long for me to realize both feeders were empty. I set my coffee aside and dragged the big seed bin from the corner of the dining room out to the front door. I used to leave this bin out on the front porch till one day I noticed the lid was getting chewed up. I used a bungee cord to tie the lid down to keep the critters out but the raccoons were about to get in out of sheer persistence.

I quickly filled the feeders and was happy to get back inside out of the 17 degree chill. It was snowing to beat the band five minutes earlier, but now the sun was out. It left little warmth, unfortunately, but my…it did look pretty on that new snow. I dragged the seed bin back into the dining room and tucked it behind my chair and sat back down. In moments, Mr. and Mrs. Cardinal swooped back in, their feathers puffed up to trap air and keep them warm. They looked pretty fat and sassy, but I knew they appreciated breakfast.

I heated up my coffee.

I found myself wishing I had done more for Grandma when she lived here all those years after Pop-Pop died. Oh, I bought her a new stove once and a refrigerator. I talked to her on the phone one day and she was remarking how hot it was and her fan stopped working. I went online and ordered a fan and she received it the next day. She thought I was some kind of miracle worker. I never could get her to understand internet shopping.

In her later years, when she spent so much time sitting in her chair in front of this very window, her Bible lay open on her lap as she studied her Sunday School Lesson. She would have loved to have had these bird feeders out on her porch then. The birds would have been so close she could almost reach out and touch them. This made me chuckle at another memory.

When grandma took pictures of the family when we gathered for visits, she stood way back so everyone fit in the frame. None of this “scooch together, guys”. Nope…she would have moved back as far as she needed to to get everyone in the picture. This is why, unless you were present on that particular occasion, you only have the vaguest idea WHO is actually IN the photo. You can’t make out any facial features. If you blew up the pictures a hundred times, you still couldn’t identify anyone simply because it was too far away to gain any kind of focus.

But SHE knew who was there. She never forgot a thing. She was sharp clear up to within a year or two before her death. She never forgot a gathering…they were just that important to her. She always wanted us to all get together at her house, at the same time. She reveled in her family. I understand that more now than I ever have. I miss my Colorado family. I enjoy my West Virginia family. Couldn’t the two states be closer?

I finished my devotion, in front of Grandma’s window and another thought came to me. I wish I would have accepted Jesus while she was still living. She would have loved that. ❤️

“How good and pleasant it is when God’s people live together in unity!”
Psalm 133:1 NIV

Still Winter After All These Years

Tue, 05 Mar 2019 02:30:17 -0600

“Still winter in your neck of the woods?”

We live in a house of the ‘70s. The dead giveaway for that is the sliding doors on the closets have mirrors. While I am not excited about the decorating style of such things, I do love that I can open my eyes in the morning and see the bedroom window reflected in the mirror. When I awoke yesterday, big puffy snowflakes the size of marshmallows were floating down. Even though I am WAY over the winter thing, I’ve got to tell you…it was such a serene scene, I just laid there and looked at it for a long time.

One of the better things about being retired is not having to commute in bad weather. I heard the salt trucks going up and down the road several times and I was grateful to know my “commute” was going to be a hundred foot walk out to TOW-Wanda. I took three days off and gave myself some distance from the rough draft. Now it’s time to work on the editing.

When I was in church Sunday, Pastor Justin asked us if there were areas of our lives we needed a little extra help with. If so, he invited us forward in an altar call. I was feeling a little fried when I finished writing on the 28th. I found myself dreading the editing because I find it tedious. Also, it makes me read the book over and over and over and I get to thinking no on in their right mind would want to read it.

When I went up for the altar call, my prayer was simple…

“Father God…give me fresh eyes and enthusiasm to edit this rough draft…every single time I read it. Make whatever needs fixing stand out like a sore thumb. Bring the words you want me to say and the readers who need them. It’s all for Your Glory.”

Pastor Justin came up behind me and put his hand on my head and prayed over me. And, I have to tell you…when I woke up and looked outside yesterday morning, I could hardly wait to get out there and get started! I never once looked at it as a chore. Attitude is everything and I’m grateful to have a change in mine when it comes to this.

The master bath is coming along slowly but surely. We drove to town yesterday afternoon and bought the new flooring and a toilet. We bought the paint on Saturday. I’m glad Mr. FixIt and I both have projects going. It makes the winter much more bearable. ❤️

“Then Peter and John laid their hands upon these believers, and they received the Holy Spirit.”
Acts of the Apostles 8:17 NLT

Expect the Unexpected

Thu, 28 Feb 2019 02:30:24 -0600

“Unexpected things can be really, really good…or really, really bad. Anxiety can stem from the unexpected.”

My last small group gathering of the winter session is tonight. We’ve been studying Louie Giglio’s book…Goliath Must Fall. It is truly an amazing, insightful look into the giants we all face in life and how to get rid of them…once and for all. I hate to see this series end. I would like to do it all over again. At least I bought the book as well as the study guide, so I plan to read it again and again. I even have friends buying it and we can discuss it.

Our next season starts in April. We will be studying “Unexpected” by Christine Caine. The subtitle is “Leave Fear Behind, Move Forward in Faith, Embrace the Adventure”. Oooooooh, I love the sounds of that! I received the book and the study guide yesterday and it’s all I can do to keep from cracking it open already, but I want to keep my head in the game and finish what I started with Louie’s book first.

Seeing the title of the book yesterday did get my mind to thinking. Unexpected. That’s a double edged sword, isn’t it? I mean, we generally LOVE unexpected surprises…if they’re good. A baby is coming to a couple who thought they couldn’t get pregnant. An award is given for a job well done. A refund check comes when we were expecting to have to pay more. These are all the GOOD kinds of unexpected things we don’t mind hearing about.

What happens when the unexpected isn’t good? There is a miscarriage…a heart attack…an accident. Once that happens to you, you are hypersensitive. Hyper-vigilant. Over reactive. When my ex-husband found me after the overdose, it took years for him to be able to see me without having a rush of anxiety. Daughter #2 went through a very difficult period in her life when she would call me…frequently crying hysterically. I was going through my own issues dealing with grief. Her anxiety would set off my anxiety to the point when I saw her name on Caller ID, my heart would start pounding and my hands would sweat.

Anticipatory anxiety can come from having experienced the unexpected in a traumatic way. Mr. Virgo complained of shoulder pain two days before he died of a sudden heart attack. The other day, Mr. FixIt was complaining of his shoulder hurting and my heart started pounding and my hands started sweating. He looked at me and knew what was going through my mind. He knows me well. He immediately came to me, wrapped his arms around me and said, “It’s just my arthritis, honey. I’m fine…really.”

I don’t want to say “I can’t do that again.” Because, we do not know what the future holds and he deserves to have me right there beside him, supporting him, no matter what happens in life. So where do I put that misplaced anxiety? I ask God to take it.

“Lord, I need you to take this away from me. I know this is just a reaction caused by something that happened before. But it feels real and I need to focus on _____ right now, not anxiety.”

Anxiety is a giant that can control our lives. I learned in Louie’s book that Jesus already killed that giant. It’s dead and gone. I’m working on it. I’d love to say I read this book and did the study and watched the videos and now anxiety is a thing of my past. But I’ve been dealing with this since I was in second grade. That’s a whole boatload of years. Whether it is a medical condition or a conditioned response doesn’t matter…it feels real. I will say though, it’s much improved since studying Goliath Must Fall.

Unexpected things will always happen…good AND bad. I just have to remember to pray and hand it all over. ❤️

“But when I am afraid, I will put my trust in you.”
Psalms 56:3 NLT

Writing and Praying

Wed, 27 Feb 2019 02:30:39 -0600

“Prayers, Praises, and Persistence”

I was a little worried when I went out to TOW-Wanda yesterday morning. Were the words going to come? Or was I going to hit another roadblock like I did Monday? I gathered my gear, grabbed my coffee, kissed Mr. FixIt, and headed to “the office”.

Once the furnace was on, I slipped out of my shoes and climbed into my little writing nook. I took a few moments to gather my thoughts and figure out a plan of action. Holding the warm coffee between my hands, I closed my eyes and prayed.

“Lord, thank you for all these words you’ve been sending me. Thank you for this comfortable place to write in and call my own. Thank you for trusting me to be your hands. Lord, I’m not sure what happened yesterday. My friend Gail says you were just giving me a day of rest. Whatever it was, Lord…please make me a vessel. Use me in whatever way you can. I promise I’ll do what you say. Amen”

I sipped my coffee and was about to open the document app and resume writing the book when I felt the nudge.

“Find your verse.”

This is something I do when I want to hear personally from God. When I’m having a specific issue, I ask God to help me find my verse…the one he speaks through. If I have my bible, i just open it to the spot that feels right, close my eyes, and point. That is my verse, and 99.9% of the time, it speaks to me directly regarding whatever issue it is I’m dealing with. I can do the same thing with the app.

When I opened my app yesterday, chose a book, then chose a chapter, the Parable of the Persistent Widow came up. I kid you not. I took one look at it and laughed with glee.

“Awwww, Jesus…you are SO good. Would you look at that? How do you expect people to believe this?”

It’s true. The parable was told to the Disciples to remind them to pray and to never give up. You can’t make this stuff up…he answered me right there. So, I prayed again.

“Ok, Lord…here I am praying and I’m never going to give up. I just feel like I’m supposed to be going somewhere with this book but I’ve lost my direction. I’m giving it back to you. Guide me where you want this to go.”

Just then a dear friend texted me and asked me to give her a call. She said, “I just want to tell you how proud I am of you. You’ve been talking with God. AND…you’ve also been listening to the Holy Spirit as he guides you through your book. You’re doing a great job. Keep it up!”

Sometimes I wonder if other people can hear my chin hit the floor as much as I can. Not only did he send me a scripture saying “Keep praying! Never give up!” He nudged a friend to reach out and say, “You’re doing a great job. Thanks for listening to the Holy Spirit!” Hokey smokes!

I scrolled back and found the exact spot where I went off the rails. I highlighted the words from that point to the end, cut, and pasted them into a new document I entitled “Extras” and saved it. I’m not going to throw those 12,000 words. They may come in handy in another book. I’m back to 52,422 words with a goal of 60,000 to 80,000. I also have a Mission Statement for my book so I know more specifically what to ask for.

I don’t want to overwhelm you with God stories each and every day. There are days when other topics seep in, but even then, the underlying story is how God works into it. I also know the timbre of my writing has changed. But, when something so profound gets set down on a platter in front of me, how can I NOT share that? I still shake my head when things like this happen, even though I absolutely KNOW where it comes from. So, here’s my Worship Wednesday post! ❤️

“One day Jesus told his disciples a story to show that they should always pray and never give up. “There was a judge in a certain city,” he said, “who neither feared God nor cared about people. A widow of that city came to him repeatedly, saying, ‘Give me justice in this dispute with my enemy.’ The judge ignored her for a while, but finally he said to himself, ‘I don’t fear God or care about people, but this woman is driving me crazy. I’m going to see that she gets justice, because she is wearing me out with her constant requests!’” Then the Lord said, “Learn a lesson from this unjust judge. Even he rendered a just decision in the end. So don’t you think God will surely give justice to his chosen people who cry out to him day and night? Will he keep putting them off? I tell you, he will grant justice to them quickly! But when the Son of Man returns, how many will he find on the earth who have faith?””
Luke 18:1-8 NLT

Go With the Flow

Tue, 26 Feb 2019 02:30:56 -0600

“When the words don’t come, you have to go with the flow.”

I took Saturday and Sunday off from writing, other than my usual daily blog post. I didn’t get home from town till around 3:00 Saturday afternoon and I decided to give the rest of the day to my sweetheart. Sunday was church with the family and we weren’t back home till late and with the power outage, I needed to focus on keeping the generator running while Mr. FixIt was bowling.

I got up early yesterday, grabbed my coffee and headed out to my “office”…aka TOW-Wanda. I sat down and looked at my screen. I wrote about 1200 words, but I wasn’t feeling them. What was wrong? I sat and stared out the window. Two buzzards circled above the yard. Perhaps searching for carrion along the roadside. The sun was bright and totally belied the freezing temperature. The furnace blasted out warm air as I snuggled under my favorite camper blanket.

What was wrong with me? I’ve been writing prolifically for the past three weeks. Suddenly, I hit a road block. I picked up my phone and looked at the calendar. That can sometimes bring up a memory that’s lurking around the edges of my mind. Ahhhh…Monday. I had to be at the funeral home at 1:00. They were laying my coffee mate’s husband to rest. I hate funerals. I’ve been writing about Mr. Virgo’s funeral. I’ve been at the funeral home twice in a week. I pushed my iPad away and leaned back on my stack of pillows and took my mind through the process I have to go through since Mr. Virgo died.

This isn’t your pain.

Your husband didn’t die this week.

You aren’t laying him in the ground.

You don’t have to say goodbye again and again and again.

Your role here is to support your friend.

I sighed and tucked my writing tools in my big blue bag. There would be no writing this day. That’s ok. It’s important to be flexible…change course when the moment insists…to go with the flow. You can’t force something like writing or your reader will know in a heartbeat. Just because it didn’t flow in that moment, doesn’t mean the supply is gone. It just means someone else needed my heart for a while. ❤️

“And now, dear brothers and sisters, we want you to know what will happen to the believers who have died so you will not grieve like people who have no hope. For since we believe that Jesus died and was raised to life again, we also believe that when Jesus returns, God will bring back with him the believers who have died. We tell you this directly from the Lord: We who are still living when the Lord returns will not meet him ahead of those who have died. For the Lord himself will come down from heaven with a commanding shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trumpet call of God. First, the believers who have died will rise from their graves. Then, together with them, we who are still alive and remain on the earth will be caught up in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. Then we will be with the Lord forever. So encourage each other with these words.”
1 Thessalonians 4:13-18 NLT

Power Outage

Mon, 25 Feb 2019 02:30:56 -0600

“A power outage is not uncommon in the country.”

One of the disadvantages of living way, WAY out in the country is the frequent power outages. I do have to say, I believe this is the first one I’ve experienced here at the Ponderosa. Mr. FixIt has told me stories of outages that have lasted over two weeks out here so I am sure praying this isn’t one of them.

We’ve had tons of rain. That softened the ground. Then Sunday morning, the wind picked up and there are trees down everywhere. If they take down a power line, or snap power poles in half, or even make the wires move so much they cause a transformer to blow, then you’re out of luck. Last winter, in preparation for just such an event, Mr. FixIt pulled the generator out of the big building and set it up by the back door. He had a tarp over it to protect it from the elements. We are good Scouts!

We went to church yesterday before the wind picked up. The power was on and we didn’t think anything of it. By the time church was over and we had our usual brunch afterwards, we still had a couple of errands to run before delivering our family to their house. We didn’t get home till about 4:00. We left the sump pumps running when we headed out for church. Mr. FixIt was up four or five times during the night checking the water level. Finally, at 5:00am, it was time to turn them on. When we came to the door, my husband cocked his head and said, “The power’s out.” The pumps weren’t running.

He headed downstairs and the water was starting to seep in under the door. We had to get those pumps running ASAP. I said a prayer and the generator started right up. We WERE good Scouts….except for one thing. The gas can was empty! Mr. FixIt headed to our little town to fill the can however, the gas station was also without electricity. The only choice was to run to the next bigger town, which I did. I got back before he had to leave for bowling. We added oil to the generator and filled the tank and started it back up.

My sweetie ran an extension cord into the house so I could have a lamp. We had water. We had natural gas for cooking and for the stove that heats the living room. I bundled up and cuddled under my fur blanket, and started writing. He asked if I would be ok when he left. I laughed because this isn’t roughing it. I’ve lived in a camper on the banks of the Ohio River with no running water, a foot of snow on the ground, and -15 wind chill. This is nothing….just a minor inconvenience. It’s life in the country. I have no idea how long the power was out before we got home. And, at the time I am writing this, I have no idea how long it will be off. I called the power company and they said it was a widespread outage. It is affected 3,800 - 4,000 customers in our county alone. It comes on when it comes on.

I remain joyful and keep praying and I’m so thankful for a house and a generator, and a camper with heat should we continue without power into the night. I will remain thankful in all circumstances. ❤️

“Always be joyful. Never stop praying. Be thankful in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you who belong to Christ Jesus.”
1 Thessalonians 5:16-18 NLT

“I Have a Voice”

Sat, 23 Feb 2019 02:30:00 -0600

“I Have a Voice” woodcarving by Evelyn Jimenez

I have met some of the nicest people through my blog. One is a widow named Evelyn. She became very ill after losing her husband and very nearly died herself. Evelyn is a woodcarver, which I find endlessly fascinating. I’ve tried my hand at carving but I haven’t had the right tools for the job. I really would love to try again sometime…in my SPARE time. sigh

A few weeks ago, I saw a little faceless woman she carved and titled, “I Have a Voice”. This little round woman struck my heart. I went for a very long time in my life without a voice. I felt like the faceless woman, being told I wasn’t good enough or I was stupid or I was too fat. When you hear these things over and over and over from someone who is supposed to love you, you soon come to believe them as true.

I wanted my own little faceless woman to remind me that I am no longer without a voice. I wanted to remember that time when I was without a face so that I might recognize other faceless women. Instead of making me sad when I see her dejected little hands stuffed in her pockets, I smile because she might just be hiding cupcakes in there.

And…I know. I know she has a voice in there. I know because I had a voice inside…even when it was stifled. We can always say “I wish I would have known then what I know now.” For me it’s more like “I wish I would have known then WHO I know now.” I think if I’d known then how much God loved me, I would have loved myself more. And, if I’d loved myself more, I wouldn’t have allowed myself to be treated so poorly…even as a young child. Hindsight is 20/20. The best thing I can do now is mentor young women and make sure they know they are precious and loved and deserving. ❤️

“The desert and the parched land will be glad; the wilderness will rejoice and blossom. Like the crocus, it will burst into bloom; it will rejoice greatly and shout for joy. The glory of Lebanon will be given to it, the splendor of Carmel and Sharon; they will see the glory of the Lord, the splendor of our God.”
Isaiah 35:1-2 NIV

On Loving...Unconditionally

Thu, 14 Feb 2019 02:30:27 -0600

“I am a Christian AND I love everyone… unconditionally.”

The other day, a West Virginia delegate made a series of ugly and disparaging comments about the LGBTQ community. He compared them to terrorists and the Ku Klux Klan. He was interviewed later and given an opportunity to clarify his position, and it was actually SO much worse than what was originally reported. When asked what he would do if his son or daughter came home and told him they were gay, the delegate said if it was his daughter, he would take her for a pedicure. If it was his son, he would take him hunting. And if, upon their return, they still said they were gay…he would take them out and “see if they could swim”. The interviewer was aghast and asked, “Are you saying, you would take them out and try to drown them???” He just looked at her with a sinister grin and didn’t answer.

I was sickened, on so many levels. First and foremost, that he has this kind of hatred in his heart and calls himself a Christian. Second, that he would turn away from his children, or worse…do them physical harm. And, finally…it HAD to be a West Virginian. Why did he have to come from MY state? The answer is, because there are people like him in every state.

Here of late, I have been so uplifted and fortified by my faith, I have been shouting “Hallelujah!” from the rooftops. And that’s how I feel…excited by the ways I see God move in my life. Excited about the opportunities to share my stories of his love and provenance. Then, this week…I received this wedding invitation. And I was reminded, I may be giving people the wrong idea about who I am in my faith.

Some people may equate my bold Christian joy with the kind of person who denigrates those who are unlike them, like that delegate from West Virginia. Nothing could be further from the truth. I do not discriminate against anyone. I’m not perfect, but I certainly try to emulate Jesus at every turn. He loves everyone. He does not see people from the outside. He looks at their hearts. After raising my daughters in the Jewish faith, I was appalled when Daughter #2 came home from school crying because the kids called her a “stupid f****** Jew”. I held her close and tried to explain ignorance and intolerance and bigotry. It broke my heart.

I respect all faiths, save for those who kill people in the name of their god. I respect all people, save for those who kill or maim or injure children or animals. When I raise my voice in praise for Jesus, I don’t want it to exclude my love for others who don’t believe as I do. I don’t want to walk ahead of and ignore the one who is still looking for God. I don’t want the Muslims and the Jews and the Seiks and the Hindus and even the atheists…anyone of any faith…to think I do not love them equally. I look for, and see, the God in all people. That divine spark that comes from somewhere far beyond the stars. That sign of something far greater than any of us here.

I also embrace the LGBTQ community as my fellow human beings, who house that same divine spark as me. It is not my place to judge anyone…not even that delegate from West Virginia. Everyone will be judged by their maker in the end. It’s not my job. At the same time, I’m going to tell you about this amazing Jesus who rules my life. And, I’m going to show you, as best I can by the way that I live, how a good and loving and forgiving Father has changed me. The two can, and in my humble opinion SHOULD walk hand in hand.

Because, you see…that wedding invitation we got in the mail this week? That’s from Daughter #2 and her fiancée…a very kind and loving woman who has helped my baby become a better version of herself. They are getting married in Colorado in August. They love each other completely… unconditionally. How can I not do the same with both of them? This is my child. We love who we love. It is not my place to judge. You may do what you wish, but I do pray I will always, always, always land on the side of love. Because that is the way Jesus loves me.

***If you don’t agree with me, that’s ok…I won’t judge you either. I know this is a hot topic for some, but this is my house, my rules. We speak with respect here. This is a case where we’ll take my grandma’s advise…”If we can’t say anything nice, we won’t say anything at all.” ❤️

“As for the one who is weak in faith, welcome him, but not to quarrel over opinions. One person believes he may eat anything, while the weak person eats only vegetables. Let not the one who eats despise the one who abstains, and let not the one who abstains pass judgment on the one who eats, for God has welcomed him. Who are you to pass judgment on the servant of another? It is before his own master that he stands or falls. And he will be upheld, for the Lord is able to make him stand.”
Romans 14:1-4 ESV

A Marshmallow Day

Mon, 11 Feb 2019 02:30:19 -0600

“Cold, grey days are Marshmallow Days!”

I got home safe and sound yesterday just in time to leave for church. The tree that had fallen across the road the night before was cut up and moved from the roadway. The same scenario is being repeated over the entire region with the thaw and soaking rains causing the ground to soften. All it takes is a little gust of wind and trees topple easily.

We have thoroughly enjoyed church the last couple of weeks with Mr. FixIt’s daughter and family joining us. I can’t tell you how wonderful it feels to take up seven seats in a row. My heart is overflowing.

Our pastor spoke on criticism yesterday. Good criticism comes from a place of love, and even though it stings, it is meant to lift us up. We all have suffered the other kind of criticism that really isn’t “criticism” at all. It’s self-serving and mean spirited and is critical. There’s nothing about love in that. Pastor Justin’s premise was…don’t let them in. Don’t listen to that.

There is a difference between criticism and someone who is merely expressing an opinion and it might be difficult to discern that at times. The other day, someone I care about and whose opinion I value very much sent me a private message. In it, she said my writing has changed. I have become more “evangelical” than she likes on a daily basis. My very first thought was “sting”. Immediately followed by “that’s ok. I still love you.”

Since then, lots of things have gone through my mind. Am I coming on too strong and driving people away? Have I crossed the line into “Crazy Christian Lady who can’t talk about anything but Jesus?” I wanted to apologize. Then I decided…I really can’t. I write what comes to me. I write from my heart. And I am always brutally honest about my feelings and what I share.

Some people lose touch with God when they lose their special person. They can’t understand how a loving God could make someone suffer with cancer. Or they prayed for healing and it didn’t come. Or, any number of other reasons. For me…my faith has deepened tremendously since Mr. Virgo died. And especially since I started dating Mr. FixIt. I have never had a relationship that was so “equally yoked”. I’ve never had a partner who came to church with me every Sunday, who holds my hand with his right hand and praises with his left. I’ve never shared late night conversations about God. That alone is enough for me to want to shout from the rooftops.

This is a dark time of year. I talk about what is on my heart. I try not to make every day “Preaching Sunday” but there are only so many ways I can tell you I knitted all afternoon and still make it interesting. And I am infinitely fascinated by the way God works in my life.

I am always open to loving criticism. I told my dear friend how much I appreciated her candor. I know my writing has changed. I’VE changed. I’ve grown in many, many ways in the last six years. And I truly hope you’ll hang around with me and keep reading. I’m still going to write what is on my heart, and if it’s Jesus or something he is teaching me, you can rest assured…I’m going to write about it. I’ll write about other stuff too, just to mix it up. But, I’m Jesus’ girl first and foremost…there’s no way I’m going to hide that. ❤️

“For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.” ‭‭Ephesians‬ ‭2:10‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Saved Again

Sun, 10 Feb 2019 02:30:54 -0600

“Knowing who saves me over and over brings me peace beyond understanding.”

I finished my laundry and packed up the car. I had a last minute conversation with a wonderful woman I met recently. Then I headed home from the farm right about dusk. This photo looks like it was pretty light out, but it was dark, dark, dark when I headed into the home stretch on the two-lane country road. It was so dark, you were right on top of deer before you saw them, even with the brights on. Something ahead of me caught my eye. Not three seconds ahead of me, a big tree fell and crossed both lanes. Fortunately, I was going slow and didn’t need to slam on my brakes. I am well aware I missed this falling on me by the skin of my teeth.

I happened to be on the phone with Mr. FixIt when I saw the tree fall. There was no one else on the road. He reminded me to put on my emergency flashers. I sat there for a few minutes as we discussed my course of action. I could wait there for someone to come along and either pull the tree off the road or cut it up and haul it off. Or, I could turn around and go back where I came from. There were two routes available to me. One took me through a long area with no cell service. The other took me across a road that had a number of mudslides this week. Ultimately it would take me clear into town and then I’d have to take the interstate south and back out another two-lane. A long, long drive in the dark and still there were areas with no cell service. I decided the shortest route would be best and I headed back toward the farm, but…when I got there, I had already dodged umpteen deer and for the first time in a long, long time, I was worried about driving in the dark, alone.

When I got to the farm, I called Mr. FixIt and told him I planned to stay another night and I would be home in plenty of time to go to church. He agreed that was a good plan. That’s when I confessed I was actually worried about driving out here in the dark and I couldn’t understand why. I mean…nothing scares me. Three years ago, I wouldn’t have given this a second thought and would have looked at it as an adventure. But now? Now is different. Now it’s not just me. Now I’m not so foggy, not so careless with my existence. Now there are not only my children and friends who love me. Now there is a man and a bonus family that look to me with love and acceptance. It’s not that my life had no value, but even three years ago, the depth of my grief made it difficult to appreciate the time I had ahead of me…the family I already had that were still here and needed me. I have been awakened in the last two years. Awakened and earnestly appreciative of every precious moment I am given on this side of the grass.

Moments after my call to Mr. FixIt, a friend sent me a message that Rt. 5, the alternate route I was preparing to travel, was now closed with a large downed tree. It would be quite some time before that road was cleared. Heavy equipment was being brought in to move the tree off the phone lines. So, it seems my guardian angel was quite busy last evening keeping me from harm. I thanked God all the way to the farm for always caring for me and for the protection he afforded me last night.

And…over the last three days, I have written six chapters and 10,831 words on my book. I’ve written this book three times, at least. And every time before, it was a struggle. I’d read it and re-read it till I was sick of it and it never really spoke to me. It always seemed to me to come out flat…like I just wasn’t reaching the sweet spot where the story flowed. I’d put it away for months at a time, pick it up, and find the same problems. It wasn’t working. I have finally figured out why.

I was approached nearly three years ago by a literary agent who was interested in my writing. We signed a contract for a book. I remember when we were getting acquainted, I told her my writing was faith-based and she suggested perhaps I should use a Christian publisher. She didn’t have those connections. I thought about it for a few moments and said no, it might be good if the book was out in the general populous because it could reach many who perhaps struggle with faith. We moved forward with the contract. In the following three years, two things became apparent to me. One, my social media presence hasn’t grown as fast as I had hoped and two, my faith has deepened and now I know I want a Christian publisher. I think God waited for me to decide to include him in the book before he made it clear which direction to go. And before he opened the floodgates of words.

I have struggled for over a year with the decision to part ways from my agent. That dark voice kept whispering, “A bird in the hand, you know.” I finally stopped listening to that voice and paid attention to my gut…my inner God-voice…and send her an e-mail last week expressing my desire to change directions and head for a Christian publisher. She totally understood and felt that was the direction I should go and wished me well. So, now I have no agent, but I have the freedom of knowing I did the right thing and the trust that God will get this book out of me and onto paper.

This time, writing is different. The words are literally falling out of me. I’m typing as fast as I can. Nearly 11,000 words in three days is phenomenal! The biggest difference I notice is, this time it’s not slaying me to write it. I feel the healing of the past three years and I know this is the right time. I’m really excited about that! ❤️

“‘Call to me and I will answer you and tell you great and unsearchable things you do not know.’”
Jeremiah 33:3 NIV

I’m Writing Again

Fri, 08 Feb 2019 02:30:45 -0600

“Writing again…this time I mean it.”

About a year ago, I set my book on the back burner at the urging of my agent. She wanted me to focus on increasing my social media presence. And, while taking a break from working on the book was welcome, that time hasn’t made a huge difference in how many people follow my blog or Twitter or Instagram accounts. People come, people go. Maybe you need this for a season. Maybe for a reason. But things just stay the same overall.

I’m not complaining…not by a long shot. I love sharing my thoughts and stories here on the daily. But I found myself spending entirely too much time knitting and my book still sits. Sigh. It’s not going to write itself. If it were, it would be a best seller by now.

My accountability team contacted me yesterday and gave me the kick in the butt I needed…with an order. Five hundred words by 5:00 Wednesday afternoon! I got up earlier than usual yesterday. I made sure Mr. FixIt had everything he needed. I packed up my bag with my iPad, headphones, iPhone, and reference materials, grabbed a drink and my umbrella, and headed out to TOW-Wanda.

I extended the slide-out which normally holds the dinette. I have the table lowered and a twin mattress on top. I grabbed the pillows off the bed and propped them up at one end. I turned the furnace on to ward off the chill. I jumped in, covered up with the softest minky throw, propped my portable desk on my lap, and dove into my Pages app and started writing. I designed my book cover. I finally took a leap and typed in the title…something that has been eluding me for years. (Shhhh…it’s a secret. I can’t tell you what it is.)

Six hundred ninety words later, I turn off the iPad and looked off into the gloomy afternoon. The rain pounded on the roof, pelting the windows with a sound much like bacon frying. A sudden flash of lightning and a quick clap of thunder told me the storm was getting closer and intensifying. In the early days of trailer camping, a thunderstorm caused me to worry I might get electrocuted. I’m sure you aren’t as protected in a camper as you are in a house, but I’ve long since let go of the fear of storms. I leaned back and smiled. I pulled the soft minky material up under my chin and allowed my mind to drift along till I heard a tapping at my door. Mr. FixIt was leaving to go bowl and wanted to give me a hug. He’s feeling better, thank goodness.

Soon after he was gone, I gathered up my things and headed back inside. The sky was clouding up again and I knew I was going to need to be inside to keep an eye on that leaky drain downstairs that overflows when it rains. It was a good day. A productive day. Six hundred ninety words down. Who knows how many to go. ❤️

“"Thus says the Lord, the God of Israel: Write in a book all the words that I have spoken to you.”
Jeremiah 30:2 ESV

I Need That Joy...

Wed, 06 Feb 2019 02:30:12 -0600

“I Need That Joy…down in my heart!”

I love, love, love the way God works in my life! It’s like an elaborately woven tapestry with bright colors here and dark colors there…never seeing what’s developing in the picture till you get some perspective. That’s when you start to see how this thread that was pulled over here is causing that thread to move over there. And then you see…you really SEE. And you know beyond a shadow of a doubt…it is GOD!

Case in point. We were standing in the lobby Sunday waiting for the doors to open and head into church. I was talking with my step-daughter about my blog and how my spiritual walk began to blossom within it. I explained how the enemy really started attacking me when I opened up my heart and started praising God in my writing and adding scripture to my posts. I attended my very first Revival and was baptized in the Spirit which took things to a whole new level. Pastor Matt told us one night to take back our homes and our properties and to banish the enemy from the premises. The next morning, I got Grandma’s old bible from the buffet and walked around the perimeter of the yard, hands outstretched, shouting praises without shame. I informed the enemy he had no dominion over me or my house and I showed him the boundary. It’s one of my favorite stories and it was the first time I had shared it with my bonus family.

Soon, we went into the sanctuary and were seated. Pastor Justin gave a wonderful sermon about patience. At one point, he started getting animated and talked about banishing the enemy from our homes and properties. I sat back and smiled and thought, “Here it comes!” He went on to say, “Take your bibles and walk around the perimeter of your property and send the devil packing!” My step-daughter and I whipped around and looked at each other, mouths gaped open, and laughed out loud. I love it when that happens. And when you are attuned, it happens a lot. You just have to pay attention. I was so glad God showed them he was there!

I told you earlier this year new things were coming. I still can’t talk about the specifics yet, but I knew there were a couple of associations I had to sever before I could move forward into the new project. I’ve waffled, I have to admit. Because a “bird in the hand is worth two in the bush”, as my grandma used to say. I prayed about it and told God I put all my trust in him and I know he will open the new doors where he wants me to go. I hit “send” on the last e-mail and immediately, Spirit told me to turn on the Christian radio station I was listening to earlier in the day. I did, and the worship song “Joy” by King & Country came on. Now, I’ve never heard that song, but listen carefully to the lyrics and you will hear God saying, “Yes! Things were critical and you made a choice. Now…feel the JOY!”

Wow…these kinds of things really pump me up! My body was humming like I was plugged into an outlet. And, in all actuality, I was. I was getting recharged by the Holy Spirit. I couldn’t help but feel that “joy, joy, joy, joy down in my heart!” More to come down the road as the journey continues. ❤️

youtu.be/lA7n7TwPD…

“Clap your hands, all peoples! Shout to God with loud songs of joy!”
Psalms 47:1 ESV

Deep Freeze

Wed, 30 Jan 2019 02:30:35 -0600

“The deep freeze is coming!”

We are about to get hit with record breaking arctic weather. Actually, there are many places in America that will be colder than Antarctica today. That’s crazy! While I do not like cold weather like this, I can tolerate it if I don’t have to go out in it. So far this winter has been fairly mild in West Virginia with hardly any snow. Soon we will be past the threat of major storms and spring will be on its way.

Yesterday, I accomplished very little. A couple of phone calls. Some paper work. I tidied up the kitchen and watched some old sermons I missed at church. But the rest of the day was spent knitting under my fur throw and watching old shows on TVLand. Andy Griffith and MASH. Part of me felt like a slug. The other part of me said it’s ok to do self care in the winter because God knows we work hard in the summer.

I found this photo on Unsplash…a free source of stock photos in an app I use call Over. Whenever I use a stock photo, I always place a photo credit in the lower left hand corner, even though the photos are free. I do use a lot of my own photographs here, but I believe in putting credit where credit is due. I received a private message yesterday regarding the painting I shared with you last March. It’s the one of the woman jumping in Jesus’ arms. Someone has questioned whether the artist got permission from the photographer to use the photo in his art. I don’t know the answer to that. I have come to know the artist as a good Christian man and I do not believe he would do anything nefarious. That being said, if there is even a question regarding copyright infringement, I can’t be involved. That makes me sad, but I have to do the right thing for me and my “brand”. The worst part about this is, the art thieves made out like bandits at the artist’s expense and they will never be caught or prosecuted. I hope it gets resolved and the art will be made available at some point because it really struck a chord with people. ❤️

“For we are taking pains to do what is right, not only in the eyes of the Lord but also in the eyes of man.”
2 Corinthians 8:21 NIV

Building up my Stash

Sun, 27 Jan 2019 02:30:49 -0600

“Eighteen hand-knit cotton dishclothes are perfect for impromptu gifts.”

Yesterday was a decompression day. Taking care of and loving on lots of people this week left me needing a day that was all about me, for the most part. I’m almost finished with the cotton yarn I bought to knit dishcloths. There’s probably enough to make a couple more. I have eighteen in my stash. I like having these around for impromptu gift giving. I also get a bar of lavender soap every time my doTerra order comes around and I don’t need vitamins. I put these things all away to have ready for birthdays and hostess gifts.

I have this whole bonus family through marrying Mr. FixIt and I am thrilled to say the grandkids are going to church with me today! Mr. FixIt and I will go at noon then when he bowls this evening, I’ll take the grandkids with me and treat them out to dinner after church. I wanted to spend some quality time alone with them. Bonding time is important in step-families…even when the kids are all grown up. I’m so excited…I can hardly wait!

I told you I would let you know if I slept well again when I practiced handing everything over to God before bed. Well, I did and it was amazing how fast I fell asleep…and stayed asleep all night. I think I’m onto something here!

We haven’t been to church for two weeks because of bad weather. I can hardly wait to get there today…twice! Have a blessed Sunday, dear ones. I’ll see you this evening for Sunday Night Prayer Circle. ❤️

“Children’s children are a crown to the aged, and parents are the pride of their children.”
Proverbs 17:6 NIV

Happy Feet

Sat, 26 Jan 2019 02:30:46 -0600

“I love my new Happy Camper Slippers!”

My new slippers arrived yesterday! Yes…I had to have them. They are so cute and comfy. And they make me smile!

I’ve had an interesting week ministering to my family, loving my kids through life issues, being a mentor to the grandchildren. Missing the Colorado family. Sharing the Gospel. And the love. It’s been a challenge AND it’s been incredibly rewarding. And, I’m totally whupped tonight as I write this.

I have had a lot on my mind this week and I haven’t slept well. So, Thursday night I did like they suggested in Goliath Will Fall. When I laid down in bed, I told God I had worked on this stuff long enough. I said, “Here, I’m giving this to you to work on tonight. I’m going to sleep.” And I did. I mean…it really worked! I slept ten hours straight. I haven’t done that in ages but I’m going to try it again. I’ll let you know how it works.

I love how my posts have been stirring people to write to me with their own stories of faith and family. I love how someone writes of a painful situation they are going through and soon, there are others who have chimed in to support them. It warms my heart that God trusts me with this ministry…to my family, to my friends, to my readers. I am grateful for all of you. And for a God that trusts someone like me with such a wonderful gift. ❤️

“But I do not account my life of any value nor as precious to myself, if only I may finish my course and the ministry that I received from the Lord Jesus, to testify to the gospel of the grace of God.”
Acts 20:24 ESV

Precious Memories

Thu, 24 Jan 2019 02:30:44 -0600

“My precious mother…gone fifteen years now. I miss her so much.”

Fifteen years ago today, my precious mom left us unexpectedly. She had been ill for only five days, refusing to go to the hospital as she had no one to watch my brother. He has cerebral palsy and always had lived at home with her. She was fiercely protective of him. She died of multiple pulmonary emboli…blood clots in the lungs. If she would have had proper medical care, I believe she would have lived longer. Then again, perhaps it was her time to go. Either way, as those of you know who have lost your mother, it is a dreadfully difficult thing to go through.

I posted some pictures on my Instagram account (@GriefMaven) yesterday and the setting is such that they also posted here. I entered them in Apple’s photo contest for pictures shot with an iPhone. One of the pictures is of my grandma’s house, which was also my mom’s house growing up. I believe she was a teenager when they moved there. Before that, they lived in the old home place back on the hill.

Mom and her siblings walked down off that hill every day and from the time they went to high school, rode the bus twenty-eight miles each way, then walked back up the hill when they got home. It was a hardscrabble life for Mom and her family as they lived off the land…six kids, Grandma and Pop-Pop, an old milk cow and a horse to plow. Pop-Pop worked in the shop down the road…welding, fixing things, delivering pop, working on trucks for the oil fields.

We went to the farm yesterday. I sat quietly in the living room, listening to the old house speak to me in a language I have heard since my earliest days. My eyes ran over the old linoleum on the floor, its pattern looking like carpet, faded and worn through in places. The sheers on the windows let the pale light from late afternoon highlight the dust motes in the air. The familiar smell of wood and old cotton and gas stove comforting me as I remembered so many days shared with her there.

My friend Sharon, who is also a newly discovered distant cousin, saw the picture of Grandma’s house here yesterday and said it brought tears to her eyes. She said it made her think of an oldtimey tune her mother used to sing as she did her household chores. She posted a link, but I’m going to share it here as well. In honor of Wanda Belle…my mom, my friend, my champion. I loved her so…I miss her still.

Precious Memories…how they linger…

❤️

youtu.be/JUiqncJE_…

“"Many women have done excellently, but you surpass them all."”
Proverbs 31:29 ESV

Action v. Reaction

Tue, 22 Jan 2019 02:30:08 -0600

“The Reverend Doctor Martin Luther King, Jr.”

Growing up in the chaos of alcoholic dysfunction made me a reactionary from an early age. There was a lot of anger in my home growing up. Lots of fighting, yelling, slamming, throwing, crashing. I never witnessed my father hitting my mother. He only hit me once. When he did, he came at me from behind and I stood up to him. I stuck my chin out and told him, if he was going to hit me he’d better hit me like a man and do it face to face. I’ll never forget the utter look of defeat on his face in that moment. He dropped his fist to his side, went over to the steps, sat down, and cried. He never went after me again. But, the damage was done. It was done long before that day.

I learned to be the peacemaker. To smooth things over. To mediate when things got out of hand. I was the bystander. I acted. Unfortunately, when the anger was directed at me, I reacted. I automatically went into defense mode. I made excuses. I deflected. I diverted attention. I manipulated. It was decidedly unhealthy and took far too many years to come to a head.

The first pivotal moment of my life…that moment when there is a definite line in the sand that separates “all things before” from “all things after” was the overdose. That was when I really did the work necessary to effect permanent change in my life. It’s when I learned about codependency. Before that, there was no clear boundary to define where others ended and I began. I was too busy weaving a web that would hold everything together.

Learning about boundaries was a love-hate exercise. I loved finding my voice and standing up for myself. I hated confrontation. I loved the release healthy boundaries gave me because I didn’t have to try to run everyone else’s lives for them. I hated feeling like a fish out of water.

It took a lot of practice. It still does. I still have to remind myself occasionally that I don’t do anyone any favors by not setting boundaries and demand they are respected. I didn’t spend seven hard years in therapy for nothing. Fortunately, Mr. Virgo came into the picture after I had these skills in place and he offered an excellent practice field.

After sixty-five trips around the sun, I’ve learned enough to know it’s a whole lot easier to carry love than it is anger, hate, discord, dysfunction, or codependency. When I approach any situation from a place of love, my walk becomes more Christ-like. And anytime I lead with “What would Jesus do?”, I am already winning. Conflict is inevitable in life. The only control we have is in how we react to it. ❤️

“For am I now seeking the approval of man, or of God? Or am I trying to please man? If I were still trying to please man, I would not be a servant of Christ.”
Galatians 1:10 ESV

The Poet - From Darkness into Light

Sun, 20 Jan 2019 02:30:58 -0600

“Think before you speak. Read before you think.”

"maybe death isn’t darkness, after all, but so much light wrapping itself around us — as soft as feathers"
~ Mary Oliver

How I let a treasure like Mary Oliver slip through my fingers, I’ll never know. It’s an excellent example of realizing how very much I do not know. The internet has been filled with loving tributes to this gentle woman with the expansive heart…her pen trimming away the excesses of flowery verse and going straight for the pit of your stomach. Her words are like magic…painting pictures of love and kindness and tenderness. Nature was her cathedral. Poetry was her torch.

Oliver loved Whitman and Emerson, Shelley and Keats. Growing up in a dysfunctional home in Ohio, she ultimately settled in the wilds of New England, wandering through her woods and harbor…taking notes and penning phrases along the way. She has been compared to Emily Dickinson. Her poetry is filled with both darkness and joyous light. Her life partner, Molly Malone Cook, was her constant companion for over forty years, as well as her literary agent. After Molly’s death in 2005, Oliver continued on in Provincetown, Massachusetts until finally relocating to Florida. She rarely gave interviews because she valued her personal privacy and wished for her work to speak for itself. Mary Jane Oliver passed away on January 17, 2019 of lymphoma. And the world lost a valuable treasure.

In researching Oliver’s work, I became introspective. How often do we think, once we have arrived at “a certain age”, that we somehow have attained a level of knowledge that we can, at the very least, term “well rounded”? I know a little bit about a lot of stuff, but there is SO much out there I haven’t a clue about. We cannot possibly learn everything, but how sad that I didn’t know Mary Oliver and her brilliant poetry during times in my life it might have soothed my heart. How joyful that I still have the opportunities to continue learning and growing.

We are but a sum of our life’s experiences, are we not? The other night, I had a troubling dream. A recurring dream about a hopeless situation which will never be resolved nor totally understood. Not in this lifetime anyway. And whenever I have this dream, I am left feeling an ache in my heart…bereft over a loss I had little control over. It leaves me out of sorts for days and colors my every interaction, thus leaving the stains of old hurts smeared onto others who have no knowledge of my pain. It’s unfair and senseless. As I drove to town yesterday, I had a conversation with God. I asked Him to please step in and be an intermediary…to block this dream, and even the thoughts of the events that precipitate it. To take away the memories that come back and haunt me year after year. As I pleaded with God, I literally felt the old, familiar ache physically leave my heart. A weight was lifted and the cloud in my mind dissipated. I immediately thanked Him. Then…I let it go.

Poetry. Prose. Words. Prayers. God. They have such power to release you from the bondage of the past…if you let them. If you feel them and taste them and speak them. They can breathe life back into the sore places of your soul. ❤️

“If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give away all I have, and if I deliver up my body to be burned, but have not love, I gain nothing.”
1 Corinthians 13:1-3 ESV

Finding the Right Tools

Fri, 18 Jan 2019 02:30:23 -0600

“Having the right tool leads to success.”

Good communication skills have not always been my strongest suit. For years, I was afraid to speak up for fear of judgement and rocking the boat. That changed with Mr. Virgo and I’ve honed the skill with Mr. FixIt. Yesterday I told you he was being a little stingy with his power tools. So, that night, instead of stewing over it, I just pointed out that I like power tools, too. He smiled and said he just wasn’t used to women who know how to do things like that. I understand that. Not all women can, or even want to, operate power tools.

Yesterday, we needed to build another brace at the other end of the bathroom floor. That is where you attach two short pieces of 2x4 to a long piece in an “H” fashion and fasten it between the floor joists to support the new floor above. This end of the floor is located directly over the washer and dryer. It’s an awkward position to stand on a ladder and it was impossible for Mr. FixIt to get up in there, so I climbed up on the washer and dryer and fastened the new boards in with three inch wood screws.

I don’t know if you have ever held a drill at an awkward angle, over your head, and tried to hold enough pressure to keep the bit from slipping in the head of the screw, but I assure you it’s not easy. The first two screws stripped immediately. So I did what I always do…I talked to Jesus. I asked him to help me get this job done and the screws went in easily as I kept saying “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” When it got really difficult, Mr. FixIt just reached up and held the end of the drill and it worked like butter.

When you face the tough things in life, you need the right tools for the job. We had the right wood screws. We had the right drill and bit and a fully charged battery. We had proper lighting and ladders. We had mutual support and trust. And we had Jesus standing in between us. We can call on Him to help us with the most mundane of tasks. My shoulders relaxed and I put all my focus and force on the task at hand and was successful. The right tools for the job…it’s what creates success. ❤️

“Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.”
Hebrews 4:16 ESV

The Difference Between “With” and “Without”

Tue, 15 Jan 2019 02:30:47 -0600

“The Difference Between With and Without”

I rarely write a post about a specific scripture. I usually write something then find the scripture that best illustrates my thinking. It makes me search more. It makes me read more and study the Word more. It keeps me engaged. This post is different. I was chatting with Danielle the night I was asking her questions about her addiction and overdose. When I told her how happy I was she was getting her life together at 24, I shared my story and told her I felt robbed of nearly a decade of my life. She shared a scripture with me and I made note of it. I have meditated on it for over a week and now I’m ready to share it.

I have always believed in God so therefore, I have never lived a day without Him. I will have to say though…Jesus didn’t live in MY house until 2004. By that time, I had already gone through two broken marriages. I had two beautiful daughters. And one broken mind.

I didn’t realize how desolate my life had become. I just knew I was shriveling up and dying on the vine. I became broken in my second marriage and, for whatever reason, we couldn’t seem to end it. We became more and more distant and I self-medicated in order to cope. Unfortunately, I was seeing a psychiatrist who did more harm than good and I couldn’t seem to end that either.

I knew what I needed. I needed Jesus. But I was married to a Jewish doctor. I took my little girl to Hebrew School every week. I organized all the Jewish celebrations in our small town. I had formally converted to Judaism. I had actually stood before a Beth Din…the Jewish tribunal court…and renounced Jesus as my personal Lord and Savior.

“Jesus would NEVER want me now.” I thought to myself.

Toward the end of that marriage, I laid in bed every night and talked to God. I told him, if anything happened to my husband, I would become a Christian. I consoled myself with thoughts of singing in church…of praying…of reading my Bible. But I just couldn’t do that AND be married to the Jewish doctor. He would leave me.

Little did I know he’d been thinking of leaving for at least five years before he told me. I was hurt. But I was also angry. If we could have both been brave and honest, we could have avoided the pain of the last five to seven years and gotten on with our lives. It would have had far less of an impact on my children…especially Daughter #2 who was just nine years old when I overdosed and we subsequently ended our marriage.

I felt robbed. Robbed of time. Robbed of happiness. Robbed of my marriage. And robbed of the Joy of having Jesus in my life…although I couldn’t articulate it as such at the time. When Danielle quoted Joel 2:25, my jaw dropped. It spoke of Redemption. It spoke of Replenishment. It spoke of Fulfillment. And the thing that spoke most to my heart was…the end of shame.

I was raised by a father who used shame as his preferred tool of control. Blame and shame were my lifelong companions, and renouncing Jesus had become the number one shame of my life. Before I even realized I needed Him, I was yearning for His unconditional love. Thankfully, I was saved and forgiven and made new. I didn’t have to wait for anything…I just needed to get out of my own way.

I loved the fact that as I ministered to Danielle, she ministered to me and told me God would repay me for the years the locusts ate. And He has…oh, my goodness. He has repayed me many, many times over. Far more than I ever deserved. As the calendar turned to another year, I could feel a shift in my relationship with God. No longer a “baby Christian”, I feel I have moved from an observer AT church to BEING the church. It’s a change in perspective and feels like a new level of maturity. It’s hard to describe, but I feel it and I believe it to be real. This is one of the wonders of walking with Christ. I’ve left the arid, desolate landscape of “without” and I’m walking in the lush, verdant landscape of “with”. ❤️

“I will restore to you the years that the swarming locust has eaten, the hopper, the destroyer, and the cutter, my great army, which I sent among you. "You shall eat in plenty and be satisfied, and praise the name of the Lord your God, who has dealt wondrously with you. And my people shall never again be put to shame. You shall know that I am in the midst of Israel, and that I am the Lord your God and there is none else. And my people shall never again be put to shame.”
Joel 2:25-27 ESV

The Pivoting Point

Sun, 06 Jan 2019 02:30:09 -0600

“January 6, 2000 looked much like this...cold, snow-covered, sunny. Little did I know how the day would end.”

When I woke up the morning of January 6, 2000...I had no idea I had spent the last night of my life in Hubby #2’s bed. Because, it very nearly became the ACTUAL last night of my life. In about 12 hours, I was going to be in the ER fighting for my life after an overdose.

This is the day that I refer to as my re-birthday. It was the day I hit rock bottom and had to start navigating my way back up. It wasn’t like I really wanted to die. I just wanted the pain to stop. Everything had become so painful.

I used to tell the details of this day over and over and over to anyone who would sit still. I told about my relationship to a man who wasn’t taking care of me the way I needed. He’s not a bad man at all. Years of illness and my altered personality from all those drugs had taken their toll on both of us. I told about the psychiatrist who misdiagnosed me as having a chemical imbalance in my brain. I told about how my life experiences, including episodes of childhood sexual abuse, had created the perfect storm that produced that fateful day.

It’s nineteen years now. So close to two decades. Not quite one third of my life has passed. SO much has happened in those nineteen years, including burying my next husband. I am a sum of my experiences, as we all are. But, I am not DEFINED by those experiences anymore.

The person I am today doesn’t resemble who I was back then. The only cells that are the same ones now that were present on that night at the turn of the millennium are neurons…the very cells I was trying to shut off. Everything else has been made new…both physically with the passage of time, and spiritually with my salvation.

The value of the story has changed. I no longer want you to take sides with me and hate my ex-husband. I no longer want to make excuses for my behaviors. I no longer want you to feel sorry for me. These things were all present for some time in the retelling. Now, the value of the story isn’t so much the yardstick that measures how far I’ve come, but more a testimony that…no matter how far you’ve gone down the wrong path…you can turn around and have a better life.

While my abuse came from prescriptions, and Danielle’s (see my post about her earlier this week) came from street drugs and a needle, we are no different. We were both addicted and we were both saved by the same Grace. We were both snatched from the jaws of death by a loving and forgiving God. He didn’t cause our problems, but he did allow us to walk through them so we could learn and grow into the purpose He designed for our lives.

It’s hard for me to believe that was me…that I was that far gone. I will tell you this, though…I will forever tell how Jesus picked me up and carried me when I stumbled and fell on January 6, 2000. ❤️

“so is my word that goes out from my mouth: It will not return to me empty, but will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it.”
Isaiah 55:11 NIV

Thwarting a Spiritual Attack

Sat, 05 Jan 2019 02:30:25 -0600

“Man says…show me and I’ll trust you. God says…trust me and I’ll show you.” Psalm 126:6

So, I was minding my own business, tucked under my blanket, happily knitting when I got a text . My dear friends Janine and Gail and I have a chat room where we visit just about every day. Janine was traveling through and was stopping at Gail’s to spend the night. I was three hours away but I wasn’t going to miss out on seeing my good friends. Impromptu road trip!

I got here just after dark. Janine had her friend Diane with her and I was thrilled to meet her. Another friend, Jan, came to join us and we just had a grand time. Diane is a devout Christian and is a PR person. Jan is a retired pastor. You can imagine our entire evening was talking about our stories and how God has worked in our lives.

I was standing in the kitchen giving Diane my testimony about finding Jesus when I started feeling ill. It worsened over the hour and I headed upstairs with a bucket, just in case. Everyone had gone to bed so when I came to Janine’s door I tapped.

“Janine?”

“Yes, dear.” She opened the door wide. Her smile quickly faded when she saw me. “Ginny? What’s wrong?” She came into the hall and touched my arm.

“Janine, I’m being spiritually attacked!” I knew it as sure as I knew my own name. I was suddenly, violently ill.

I spent the prior twenty-four hours pretty immersed in Jesus. I watched War Room…a powerful movie about spiritual warfare. Then I came to Gail’s and spent a whole evening talking about very powerful, spiritual things. There were five very strong women engaged in animated spiritual conversation.

Janine and Diane came into the room and laid hands on me and prayed fervently. Within a half hour, I felt much better.

If you don’t believe in such a thing as spiritual warfare, I am here to tell you it’s a very real thing. The enemy does not like when powerful, spiritual women start professing faith like we were. But his power is in whispering lies and making you believe things that are not real. We sent him packing. A whole army of angels surrounded me and kicked his butt! We can just rejoice in that for a while, ok? I believe! ❤️

“Jesus turned and said to Peter, “Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to me; you do not have in mind the concerns of God, but merely human concerns.””
Matthew 16:23 NIV

Gwendolyn’s Journey with Arthrogryposis

Sun, 30 Dec 2018 02:30:15 -0600

“Baby Gwen was born with arthrogryposis…a rare congenital anomaly that causes some joints in the body to be stiff and bent in odd directions.”

A few months ago, I asked you to pray for my friend’s little baby granddaughter and you all stood up and joined hands and prayed hard. Baby Gwen came into this world a beautiful little flower…but some of her petals were damaged. She has arthrogryposis…a rare congenital defect that affects multiple joints. There are typically joint contractures which may be stuck in one position. The muscles surrounding these joints may be weak, stiff, or even missing altogether. Little Gwen’s left leg was bent backwards and lay across her tummy. Her feet and hands are turned inward and her little chin is drastically receded.

“Her damaged petals are what made her more beautiful than all the other flowers.” A. J. Lawless

As Gwen has grown, some of these contractures have needed to be addressed more urgently. Because her lower jaw recedes, she cannot drink from a bottle. She eventually had a stomach tube placed to get tube feedings directly into her stomach. And, because she can’t swallow, her normal saliva can choke her to death. She has to have someone awake with her 24/7 in order to suction her airway when her secretions get in her way. Between her airway and tube feedings, physical therapy and doctor’s visits, little Gwen is more than a fulltime job. I’m telling you this though…God couldn’t have given her to a better family than the one she’s in.

“Gwen has had a series of casts placed on her legs to bring them down into position for surgical repair.”

The latest surgery was a tendectomy. This will clear the way for eventually walking. I know it’s hard to imagine her ever walking when you look at that newborn picture, but she has had a series of casts as well as the surgery and her legs are down much closer where they need to be. She is just now being able to coo and gurgle baby gibberish and it makes your heart soar when you see her in a video. Her huge, sensitive eyes look into your very soul. She is the sweetest little thing.

“Baby Gwen is fed through a tube placed surgically into her stomach because she cannot swallow well enough to eat.”

Gwen’s parents are young. Mommy had to quit her job to stay home with the baby. With all the expenses that go along with a situation like this, there is also a Go Fund Me page to help with daily expenses and challenges. I rarely share this kind of thing, asking for donations, but I know this family personally. They are a wonderful, close knit family who needs a little extra help. It’s the end of the year. If you find you need to donate a little more, or if the Spirit moves you, please consider helping this young family out.

“The muscles in Gwen’s arms and hands are weak and she is just now learning to ‘hold’ toys.”

You can find Gwendolyn’s story at:

https://www.facebook.com/GwendolynsJourney/

You can find their Go Fund Me page at:

https://www.gofundme.com/gwendolyn-strong

“I look forward to every post as I follow Gwendolyn’s Journey. This baby will never be told she can’t do something…they will just find a way.”

“As Jesus was walking along, he saw a man who had been born blind. His followers asked him, “Teacher, whose sin caused this man to be born blind—his own sin or his parents’ sin?” Jesus answered, “It is not this man’s sin or his parents’ sin that made him blind. This man was born blind so that God’s power could be shown in him.”
John 9:1-3 ICB

Say “I Love You” With a Little Yarn & a Lotta Love

Tue, 18 Dec 2018 02:30:47 -0600

“Hand knitted dishcloth with the ASL sign for “I Love You” in the pattern.”

Yesterday’s post had me thinking about quick, last minute gifts for the holidays. I was in town Sunday afternoon so I stopped at Walmart and picked up some cotton yarn. Those cute patterns for dishcloths had me thinking I’d like to whip up some.

Mr. FixIt had to go to town yesterday to help a friend build something and do a little Christmas shopping. I elected to stay home. I asked Alexa to play “Soft Christmas Music”, turned up the stove in the family room, grabbed a cup of coffee, and curled up by the tree. I pulled up the fox fur blanket that I had made from the coat Mr. Virgo gave me years ago. And I set to knitting.

In the comments on yesterday’s post, my friend Jamie told me someone made her a dishcloth with the ASL symbol for “I Love You” knitted into it. I asked for the pattern and her friend sent the link. I still have the remnants of grief brain so I had to really concentrate on the pattern. I had to take out a row every now and then when I couldn’t remember where I was in the pattern. But before too long, I had one finished! I’ve started a second dishcloth from one of the pattern in the link I included yesterday.

The other day, Daughter #2 called and said she missed my cooking. I asked her what dish she loved the most. Turkey Tetrawhatzit…my version of Turkey Tetrazzini. So, before Mr. FixIt got home, I put some of the frozen turkey from Thanksgiving in a pot with a little water and simmered it till I could shred the meat with a fork. In an electric skillet, I sautéed half an onion, some sliced mushrooms and celery in a little butter. I added a drained can of mixed veggies. When the turkey was shredded, I tossed it in the skillet with about a pint of the drippings from the pan I roasted the turkey in. While that simmered, I cooked some egg noodles. I mixed up some flour in some of the broth and thickened the turkey mixture, stirred in a cup of sour cream, and brought it just to a simmer then added the drained cooked noodles. Topped with a little shredded Parmesan and…voila! Turkey Tetrawhatzit! Comfort food at it’s best…and it made me think of my daughter. Mr. FixIt said…”Send her a picture!” I did…then called her so she could “join us for dinner!”

It was a lovely day…peaceful, comforting, homey, warm with a big dash of “I Love You!” ❤️

“Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.”
Psalms 23:6 ESV

Forgiveness Equals Freedom

Mon, 17 Dec 2018 02:30:42 -0600

“Forgiveness=Freedom”

I’m not sure what I expected when I became a Christian in 2004. Lightning? The parting of the sea? Enlightenment? Thunder? I do know what I received was life altering. I received a healing to my very core. I felt like every cell in my body had been made new. It was remarkable.

When I was a baby Christian, I was like a sponge. I knew God, and loved Him. I knew Jesus, and finally embraced Him. But, when it came to the Holy Spirit, I was clueless. I had no idea exactly who He was, how He worked, what His function was. As the years have gone by, I’ve learned more and more and have developed my relationship with the Holy Trinity. And once in a while I get a big A-Ha moment that shines a light on some aspect I didn’t understand before.

I’ve long known and understood when the Holy Spirit talks to me. Those “nudges” that move and steer me in a certain direction are an indication of His presence. When I worship or hear a particularly moving sermon or scripture and I get goose bumps…that’s the Holy Spirit. All those years when I felt a knock on the door of my heart to let Jesus into my life? That was the Holy Spirit. I get all that now. And sometimes when I call out to Him and get the answer in moments, it reiterates just how close the Holy Spirit is….He lives inside us. He is that aspect of God that touches our hearts and minds with an intimacy only God can provide. I had that experience this weekend.

We had lunch with some of the local residents who live near the farm. Over lunch, my elderly aunt became a topic of discussion and I recounted how difficult that time had been. Then at church yesterday, Pastor Justin spoke on forgiveness. True forgiveness breaks the chains that are holding you prisoner. I thought back to my conversation of the day before and realized, I still had a spirit of unforgiveness as I was holding some resentment and hurt in my heart over some of the things my aunt said and did while I was trying to help her. In retrospect, I was quite filled with “You have no idea what she put me through!” That resentment, however small, is the poison I keep drinking yet she is totally unharmed.

At the end of services, Pastor Justin did an alter call and asked those to come forward who wished to let go of resentments and hurts and embrace a spirit of forgiveness. He came to each of us and laid his hands on our heads and prayed over us. I left feeling completely changed…yet again.

Do you have someone you are harboring a spirit of unforgiveness for? Is there someone who has hurt you that has left you saying, “I’ll show you!”? If so, this is a beautiful time to just let it go. Pray for those who have hurt you. Seek ways to praise them in public for the blessings they have given you…even if that blessing is the insight you gained from their unkindness. And, this is the season of giving. Send them a card. Stick a $5 gift card for coffee or to a restaurant. Tell them, “You know, I just wanted to let you know what a blessing you have been this year.” Or “I know you’ve gone through a rough patch and I just wanted to reach out and tell you I’m thinking of you.” Forgiveness goes a long way toward uniting us. I’m not saying send a gift card to your abuser. Or even reaching out for conversation with someone who physically or emotionally abused you. But you can still pray for them. The spirit of forgiveness in you just might bring you a new level of peace and healing of your own. ❤️

“bearing with one another and, if one has a complaint against another, forgiving each other; as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive.”
Colossians 3:13 ESV

The Secret to a Good Relationship

Wed, 05 Dec 2018 02:30:43 -0600

“As you grow closer to God, you can’t help but grow closer to each other.”

A young man I barely know came up to me at church the other day. He knew Mr. FixIt and I had just been married. He was quite interested in knowing the secret to a good relationship. He wanted to know how you KNOW you have the right person.

One might not think I know the answers to those questions, given I just entered my fourth marriage. That sounds awful, doesn’t it? Like maybe I don’t know what I’m doing. And, I suppose if you ask my two ex-husbands, they might agree with you. I would counter with a statement: I learned with the loss of each relationship. I learned to examine my own behaviors and contributions, or rather…lack of contribution…in each relationship. I learned about what I DIDN’T want in a relationship.

It doesn’t really benefit you to approach a new relationship with a look backward at what you didn’t like before. It does benefit you to look forward with an attitude of “How can I be the best spouse I can be without losing myself here?” I smiled at the young man and said…”I have the answer for you!”

He looked at me in surprise and payed very close attention.

I held up my hands, fingers and thumbs pressed together forming a triangle.

“Do you see this? This is your relationship. You are here. Your spouse is here.” I pointed to the base of either thumb.

I held up my left hand and said, “See? If you have God in your life, you work towards a good relationship with Him. You not only raise yourself up, but you move forward. The same goes with your spouse.” I held up my right hand to demonstrate.

“When you are married, and you put God first in your relationship, you each raise yourselves higher, but what happens to you individually?”

The young man broke into a huge grin. “You get closer to each other!”

“Yes! That’s exactly right! Do you see how simple that is? There’s no real secret here. Just keep God as the primary focus of your marriage, be the very best partner you can be, try to outlove each other, and He will take care of the rest. It’s nothing more than faith and physics!”

I gave the young man a pat on the back and headed on in to find Mr. FixIt and take my seat beside him as we put God first…this day and all days. ❤️

“He who finds a wife finds what is good and receives favor from the Lord.”
Proverbs 18:22 NIV

A Long Goodbye

Sun, 02 Dec 2018 02:30:27 -0600

“My sweet cousin, Tom.”

I was seven years old when I fell in love with Tommy Allen. The fact that he was my first cousin meant nothing to me. The fact that he was home from the Navy wearing his sailor whites meant EVERYTHING. swoon He was dreamy.

I remember that day like it was yesterday. I was playing on the floor with my brother. We had a bunch of little plastic barnyard animals and some Lincoln Logs, creating the wilderness cabin of Daniel Boone. It was a sweltering hot summer day and I wore a violet colored cotton dress. They say it matched my eyes. My bare arms were brown from the sun. My bare feet were brown from the WV dirt.

My cousin, Donna Jean, was in high school. She was playing Elvis Presley records on the stereo…his mellow voice coming through scratchy and thin. A car door slammed out front and my Aunt Marge came running from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel.

“He’s here!” The screen door didn’t even swing shut before she was out on the porch wrapping her boy in her mom-hug. I ran to the door and peeked out to see what the ruckus was all about. And…there he was. His pompadour slicked back. His Navy whites, crisp and clean, glaring in the July sun. His marine blue eyes sparkled when he saw me and grinned. He gave me a knowing wink, and I was smitten.

“Captain Tom”

We didn’t get to see each other much. He married and moved to Paden City, then New Martinsville. He raised his family. He worked hard in one of the chemical plants that dot the Ohio River banks from Pittsburg to Louisville. Then, in 1976, my parents divorced. By this time I was married myself with a little one of my own and lived in Colorado. I am embarrassed to say, I didn’t have much to do with my father’s family after that. There were a lot of reasons why…none of them good.

My father died in 2008. For some reason, I didn’t think there would be but a handful of people at his funeral. If he was the same man to others as he had been to me and my family, this would be a pretty quick, cut and dried affair. Imagine my surprise when the church was full to overflowing at my father’s memorial service! I listened to people tell me what a wonderful man he was. How he was a central figure in their church. A pillar of the community. “He would give you the shirt off his back.” I heard over and over. It wasn’t the man I knew, but I realized…he was the man THEY knew. And this funeral was for them.

Almost all of my cousins from my dad’s side were there. I greeted them politely before the service. When we all went to the basement after, I sat in awe and listened to the stories they told me about my dad. I told them about the man I knew. We were both dumbfounded. But, the really GREAT part is…even though I had walked away from them all in 1975, they greeted me with open arms in 2008 like I’d been there all along. I fell in love with them all…all over again.

About four-and-a-half years or so ago, my handsome cousin Tommy was diagnosed with mesothelioma. It is a cancer of the covering of the lung but can appear anywhere. And it comes from exposure to asbestos. He was exposed in the Navy shipyards and the plant in which he worked. The average life expectancy for mesothelioma patients is 12-21 months. Approximately 40% of patients live past one year, and only 9% live longer than five years. He was determined to do everything he could so he went to NIH and participated in clinical trials.

It bought him some good time. He fished and hunted and was his normal, happy, feisty self. Then one of the trial drugs nearly killed him. That’s when he decided…he’d had enough. His wife, Suzy, contacted me and said it was time to come for a visit. No one said it out loud, but I knew this was my last visit with this sweet man. By this time, he didn’t have the energy to go exploring or out to eat. So, we just sat at home. We talked. We laughed. I recorded him telling me stories. It was bittersweet. The ride to the beach was long and quiet.

I met fifteen gals from my high school for coffee yesterday morning. I was going to the funeral home afterwards. Lisa, the friend who married Mr. FixIt and me, lost her mom Thanksgiving Day and the viewing was yesterday. I picked up my phone to see what time it was because I didn’t want to be late. That’s when I saw the text from Suzy. Our Tom passed at 1:35 yesterday morning.

“Tommy and Me”

I tried not to cry, but the tears slipped too easily down my cheeks. My friends were wonderful and hugged me. I showed them his picture. I told them I fell in love with this handsome sailor when I was just a little girl. And now, he has crossed over the last trout stream and is off on a great bear hunt in the sky. I will miss you, Tommy…you were a heck of a good man.

Today would have been their 57th Wedding Anniversary. Suzy has never lived alone. But, she has lots of love and support. She will get through this in her own way…in her own time. Those of us who have walked this particular path have an understanding of what she is going through today. Please keep Suzy and all who loved Tom in your prayers. ?

““Do not let your hearts be troubled. You believe in God; believe also in me. My Father’s house has many rooms; if that were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. You know the way to the place where I am going.””
John 14:1-4 NIV

A Voice From the Darkness

Mon, 26 Nov 2018 02:30:26 -0600

“Depression keeps you isolated from those who might help you.”

In between cooking and visiting with my family at our Thanksgiving dinner Saturday, I checked my Twitter account. Someone was asking a question about assisted suicide. I have a contact on Twitter whose husband elected assisted death when his Stage 4 colon cancer became untreatable. In order to connect the two, i had to pop out of his tweet to find her profile. But when I tried to find the original tweet with the question, I couldn’t find it. Rather than take the time to scroll through, I typed “assisted suicide” in the search bar.

Apparently, there was a program on about it on TV because it was a trending topic of conversation. I started scrolling down through till I came upon a cry for help that alarmed me. Someone with no followers tweeted “How can I find someone to assist with my suicide?” I clicked on the profile and scrolled down reading tweet after tweet over the past day saying things like “I want to die.” I couldn’t get it out of my mind but I fell asleep before I could find it again.

Today after church, I went on the hunt for this person and clicked follow. Then I tweeted, “Are you ok?” Finally I got a response. “I’m still alive but I don’t want to be.” I went on to explain how I understood this. I went through a terrible depression and overdosed nearly 19 years ago. I asked how I could help. The response was, “How can you help? I’m on medicine but it’s not working.” I asked, “Do you have someone to talk to?” The answer, “Not really.” I explained that if the medicine wasn’t working, a counselor or therapist could help as well as the physician who prescribed it.

Before I could hear back, I did two things. I Googled “What do you do if someone on Twitter threatens suicide?” I received a link to the help section of Twitter with a form to report an account if you suspect someone is talking about harming themselves. I filled out the form, hoping and praying that someone other than only me would reach out and this person could get help. After the form was submitted, there was a list of resources in multiple countries for suicide hotlines. I took screenshots and tweeted them to the person. I tweeted, “I hope you believe me when I say you matter. There is only one you. God puts us here for a purpose. Don’t leave before you find out what that is. There is always, always hope. I care.” The response was, “Thank you very much.”

I haven’t heard anything else. I haven’t seen any more tweets but I will keep my eye out and watch the profile. This is a difficult time of year for some people. Not everyone has love and light and abundant happiness over the holidays. I don’t know this person’s circumstances. I don’t know gender, age, location. I know nothing except this is a hurting soul and I will do what I can to help and give some hope. Please pray for this person that he/she/they find the help needed. ❤️

“The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.” John 10:10 NIV

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline '1-800-273-TALK (8255)'

Loving What Is

Mon, 19 Nov 2018 02:30:47 -0600

“Snapchat filters make me see the beautiful woman inside. The mirror makes me see the beautiful Child of God that I am on the outside!”

I love my grandkids. I don’t get to see them and interact with them enough. Big is 14. Little is 11. Both are at the age where their interests lie elsewhere. Still, Little and I engage in bouts of “Let’s top each other in Snapchat.” She always wins. She does the cute and funky filters that twist your face up or adds bunny ears and whiskers. I go for glamour shots that take away my wrinkles and gives me the face of a super model. Vain? Not really. More like seeing the woman I feel like.

I’m sixty-five. Even in my primest of prime years, I was never super model material, but I could turn a head or two. I still can, if truth be told. Just ask my new, still-smitten husband. He thinks I’m the most beautiful woman on the planet! And, when I bask in his love-light, I feel even MORE beautiful. Isn’t that lovely?

When I look in the mirror and I see the wrinkles, the graying hair, the sagging skin, the cellulite I realize I am not looking at myself correctly. I am listening to the enemy whisper…”You’ll never be enough.” Instead…I change my focus. And you know how I do that? I listen to Jesus.

Here’s what Jesus tells me.

“You are altogether beautiful, my darling: there is no flaw in you.” (Sol. 4:7)

“You will be a crown of splendor in the LORD’S hand, a royal diadem in the hand of your God.” (Is. 62:3)

“Those who look to him are radiant, and their faces shall never be ashamed.” (Ps. 34:5)

“For we are God’s masterpiece…” (Eph. 2:10)

“…Created to do good works which God prepared in advance for us to do.” (Eph. 2:10)

“Blessed is she who has believed that the Lord would fulfill his promises to her!” (Lu. 1:45)

“God is within her, she will not fall; God will help her at break of day.” (Ps. 46:5)

“She is worth far more than rubies.” (Prov.31:10)

“But by the grace of God I am what I am.” (1 Cor. 15:10)

“See, I have inscribed you on the palms of My hands…” (Is. 49:16)

This is your time. God is within you. You are inscribed on His hands. Did you hear that? On his HANDS! He will fulfill his promises to you. You do your part…believe. Leave the rest up to God. Do you seriously believe the Almighty who created the stars in the sky does not count the hairs on your head? You are precious in His sight. Really.

Now, go out there and hold your head up high on this Monday morning. Smile at that person in the mirror. Need I remind you that you are a beautiful, perfectly imperfect image of God? You are loved. You are cherished. You are coveted. You are protected. You are awesome. There is ONLY ONE YOU.

I know. You may not be feeling it. You may be going through some pretty tough times right now. You may feel discouraged. You may be facing a crisis. You may be battling demons. You may be in the dark throes of grief. God has put it on my heart there is someone out there I need to tell this to so listen carefully. This is not the end of your road. He has a purpose for you that you haven’t even imagined yet. Don’t quit. You cannot fail as long as you do not quit. That miracle might just happen in the next five minutes, so stick with us here. Reach for Jesus’ hand. He will never, ever turn his back on you. He will never leave you. He will never cut you down or say mean, hurtful things to you. He will never make you feel small. He will never make you feel “less than”. He will meet you right where you are and love the stuffin’s out of you. Trust me on this.

You are a child of God. ❤️

“...And who knows but that you have come to your royal position for such a time as this?” Esther 4:14 NIV

The Art of Giving

Thu, 15 Nov 2018 02:30:37 -0600

“Shopping for warm blankets with my small group.”

I love this time of year. However, the first Christmas after Mr. Virgo died, I was so incredibly lost. I went to Denver to be with my family because I couldn’t bear to be alone. I think that’s pretty common among those who have lost a spouse.

The holidays were so special to my late husband. He lived for Christmas especially. He planned all year. He paid attention to what I needed or wanted and he was incredibly generous with gifts…too much so, really. But it gave him such joy to see the look on my face when I opened something from him. He just wanted to keep seeing that look.

That first lonely Christmas, one of the layers of the onion peeled back and revealed my days of receiving his well thought out gifts were over and it was just another beautiful thing torn from my life. I was bereft. I wanted something special from him, and since that was impossible, I decided to do something special for me.

I was driving down a busy Denver street the week before Christmas when I felt the gentle nudge of the Holy Spirit.

“There…go there.”

I looked to the right and it was Walmart. I dutifully turned in and parked. As I was walking in, I heard….

“Pay it forward.”

I went to the layaway desk and inquired how I could pay off someone’s layaway. Unfortunately, they had called in the layaways the week before so whatever hadn’t been paid for was returned to the shelves. Not to be deterred, I went to the ATM, withdrew some money, bought a card, and sat down to write a note in it. I told the recipient about this gentle man who loved Christmas and the joy of giving. I told whoever was going to receive this that I was giving them what he would have given me. Then I sat down on the bench at the front of the store and waited for the next instructions.

“Go back there. To the left…you’ll find them there.”

I headed for the back left and found the toy department. I wandered around and saw several shoppers but none stood out. I went around the corner of an aisle and there they were. A young mom and dad. They pulled a toy from the shelf, looking hopeful. Then they looked for the price, looked at each other, looked defeated, and put it back. They did this several times as they moved slowly down the aisle. There was very little in their cart.

I roamed back and forth, acting like I was very interested in something, but all the while trying to listen without being too obvious. What I wanted was for the woman to wander away from her bag for a moment so I could slip the envelope in and be on my way with the young couple none the wiser. She was a smart girl…she never left her bag for a moment. Finally, I decided I just had to move forward or I was going to look like a crazy stalker.

I walked up to the woman and said, “Here. I think this is yours.” I handed her the envelope with the bills stuffed inside. She was puzzled. She looked up from the envelope and our eyes met. I smiled warmly, pulled her to me in a mom hug, and whispered, “Merry Christmas.” Then, before she could let it register, I turned on my heel and walked away straight out of the store, without looking back.

I got to the car and my knees were shaking. I would have loved to have seen her face. But then she would have wanted to thank me or maybe even refuse the gift. Neither of which I wanted. I put the car in gear and headed to meet my family knowing I had shared something special with someone who needed it. I remember when I was a poor, single mom…trying to do the best for my own little one with very, very little resources. It felt good to give.

The church I attend is huge, so in order to have that sense of a “church family”, we have small groups that meet for several weeks per session. The group I belong to has such amazing, strong Christian women. We are in a chat group and we offer prayers and support to each other as we share and learn and grow in the Lord.

This year, our Pastor challenged the groups to find a service project and complete it by the end of the session. We couldn’t decide on just one so we supported two. The Women’s Care Center and the Mission for the homeless. Last night we met at a discount store in town and loaded three shopping carts full to overflowing. We bought children’s clothes, long john’s, hats, and 20 blankets and wheeled our purchases to the foyer. There, we stood around the carts and placed our hands on the bounty and prayed…out loud, in the store, in front of God and everybody. We asked for God to bless these items that they would doubly warm the recipients. We asked that they feel God’s love for them when they wrap themselves in the blankets. Then we headed for the mission.

“The bounty!”

When we came in, laden with bag after bag of stuff, the man behind the desk said, “What have we here?”

“Blankets! From The Warehouse Church!!!” We said, in unison.

“Oh, my gosh…that’s exactly what we needed. I ran out of blankets this evening!”

I smiled. I kinda felt Mr. Virgo grinning…poking me in the ribs.

“See, babydoll! That’s what I’m talkin’ about. It’s better to give than to receive. Giving is an art form.”

Yes…I do love this time of year. ❤️

“Each of you should give what you have decided in your heart to give, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver. And God is able to bless you abundantly, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work. As it is written: “They have freely scattered their gifts to the poor; their righteousness endures forever.”” 2 Corinthians 9:7-9 NIV

Remaining Hopeful in a Hopeless World

Fri, 09 Nov 2018 02:30:21 -0600

“When the news is on fire, how do you stay hopeful?”

We awoke yesterday to the news of yet another mass shooting. We are only three days out from another season of hateful politics. Glaciers are melting and species are disappearing. Computers can generate images that are easily passed off as truth. China just released the first AI news anchor. There will come a time when we won’t be able to tell what’s real and what isn’t. There’s so much death and destruction, murder and mayhem, and just pure evil in this world. How do you remain hopeful in a world like this?

I was reading some comments yesterday on a news post. One after another, people expressed hopelessness. I just read that a college student was supposed to go to the place in Thousand Oaks but she had homework. As a child, she went to a school in Colorado where a gunman broke in, took hostages, and eventually killed a girl then himself. She asked her mother why death followed her so much. There were people at the dance hall who had been at the concert in Vegas that was attacked. How on earth do you remain hopeful in circumstances like this?

Compound all this with grief and it is SO easy to become hopeless. To succumb to sadness and depression. I mean, here I am…the perennial cheerleader…the veritable Pollyanna, as Mr. Virgo called me. I’m weary of all this negativity. It’s beyond negative. It’s evil.

I can’t just stick my head in the sand. I can’t stick my fingers in my ears and yell “LA LA LA LA LA I CAN’T HEAR YOU!” I can’t cover my eyes and pretend I don’t see what’s going on. That isn’t productive. It isn’t healthy. And it’s not realistic. Granted, I don’t watch TV so one might say I am practicing avoidance. I say I’m being selective. I choose my media outlet based on who I feel gives the most fair and unbiased news reporting. I cross check sources and references. I Google things I am skeptical about. I practice critical thinking. En masse. It’s tedious. It’s time consuming. But it’s the only way I can keep my senses from being barraged and eventually overwhelmed.

I look at the world through the lens of my faith. I am a Christian. And I am a Liberal Democrat. I have not looked up the statistics, but I am sure I am in the minority…looked at distrustfully by both sides. And therein lies the problem. Sides. Division. US against THEM. Divisiveness is encouraged. Chaos is a smokescreen. The enemy is very, very busy now.

When I find myself feeling mired down by all the hatred in the world, I remind myself…I’ve read the Book. I know how this story ends. The light prevails over darkness. Faith, hope, and love. God tells us love is everything. It is behind every commandment. We are to love God with every ounce of strength we have. And, we are to love our fellow man as we love ourselves.

The enemy whispers doubts and delusions. Yes. There are evil things happening. Yes, there is darkness all around. But, I can put light out there. I can find ways to bring God’s light into the world. I can carry the love of Jesus in my heart and let Him shine through my thoughts and actions. And if I can do that, others can do that. The enemy wants me to believe I am the only one trying to make the world a better place. He says things like, “Why are you even bothering?” He is whispering lies meant to break me, to discourage me. But I won’t be discouraged. I’ll WALK STRONG as long as there is a breath in me. I will always look up. I will seek God’s face. I will ask for his comfort and guidance. I will pray for discernment to show me what is true and what is not. But most of all, I will trust Him. Because of His promises to me. He has never, EVER failed me. And that, my friends, is how I remain hopeful in this fallen world. ❤️

“If your enemy is hungry, give him food to eat; if he is thirsty, give him water to drink. In doing this, you will heap burning coals on his head, and the Lord will reward you.” Proverbs 25:21-22 NIV

Saying Goodbye

Thu, 18 Oct 2018 01:30:53 -0600

“My family at the farm…Aunt Viv is far right.”

I don’t remember a time in my life without my Aunt Viv in it. She and my Uncle “Dudley” and their girls were who we waited for with great anticipation every Thanksgiving. It was a grand event when their little grey Volkswagen turned up the driveway at the farm. The girls would always arrive sleepy-eyed from the Dramamine they had to take to keep from getting carsick from the long trip on the winding roads of West Virginia. Grandma always sat in her chair in the front window of the dining room, just waiting to get her hands on two more grandchildren. My brother and I could hardly wait for our cousins to get there so we could have two more playmates.

Aunt Viv was the calm and steady background to the cacophony of children running rampant through the small farmhouse. She always had a smile on her face. She always loved on us. She sent greeting cards at every holiday. She played the piano for us when we visited her house. There were always warm hugs waiting at her door.

We didn’t have much money when we were growing up. I had friends and neighbors who “went to the beach” for summer vacation. I couldn’t even imagine what that was like. Our BIG summer vacation was going to visit my aunt and uncle on the other side of the state. It is only one-hundred sixty-five miles from here to there. But those are West Virginia miles. A good section of the trip is four-lane now and that cuts down a lot on the travel time. Back then, it could take six hours to get there. It was quite the event. Their first house was quite small and my brother would sleep on the couch while I bunked in with my two girl cousins…something I eagerly looked forward to since they were the closest thing I had to sisters. They were my first friends.

As an adult, I went to visit Uncle “Dudley” and Aunt Viv when I came to West Virginia. I called them at least once a month. Aunt Viv always answered the phone and we would enjoy a nice visit. Then, a few years ago, she stopped answering the phone. Dementia stole her away from us bit by bit. What a hateful, brutal disease. I have others in my family who have suffered similar fates…my father included. That concerns me when I can’t remember things. But I don’t “borrow trouble” by dwelling on it.

Today, we say goodbye to a good and faithful woman. While it is sad…always sad to see them go, there is relief she is free from her pain and in the arms of Jesus. I’ll see you again, Aunt Viv…some glad day. ❤️

“Surely you have granted him unending blessings and made him glad with the joy of your presence.”

Psalm 21:6 NIV

The Harder Side of Love

Tue, 16 Oct 2018 01:30:19 -0600

“This is what true love looks like.”

“Love bears all things [regardless of what comes], believes all things [looking for the best in each one], hopes all things [remaining steadfast during difficult times], endures all things [without weakening].” 1 CORINTHIANS 13:7 AMP

I received a call Sunday that my sweet Aunt Viv crossed over to meet our Lord. Aunt Viv has always had a heart of gold. I remember her holding Daughter #2 on her lap and singing “Jesus Loves Me” to her when she was just a bitty thing.

Aunt Viv met my Uncle “Dudley” when they were in high school. She was a majorette. He was on the football team. They both had excellent role models growing up and their marriage was built to last. Like my grandparents, my aunt and uncle sit beside each other and hold hands. It’s precious to see.

As Aunt Viv slid further and further into dementia, I encouraged my uncle to at least consider respite care so he could get some sleep. The last two years have been terribly difficult and he often went for days on very little sleep. They did finally get some help in the form of home health care, but he pooh-poohed the idea of placing his sweetheart somewhere other than the home they built together.

The other night I was having my quiet meditation time. I read my devotionals and had a quiet conversation with God.

“Lord, I am about to be married again. There were times in my past marriages when I wasn’t very good to my husband. Can you help me be a better wife? Can you show me what that means?”

Immediately this picture popped into my head and I went through my phone to find it. Suddenly, I had this brilliant insight. Here I was, encouraging my uncle to send his beloved wife away when God was using him to show us all what true, Godly love looks like. He was showing us what “in sickness and in health” really means. I was humbled and ashamed. I immediately wanted to hug my sweet uncle and thank him for being the excellent role model he was and to apologize for ever speaking to him in such a way. What an amazing, strong man.

This is not to say there is anything wrong with people who make the difficult choice to put their loved one in a nursing home. Everyone has their own beliefs and abilities and no one should ever be made to feel guilty for having made that decision. It takes a lot out of a person to do what my uncle has done. I hate that he is so worn down. But I love that he stuck by his bride and held her hand for sixty-two years…right to the end. I think there will be an extra star in his crown when he joins her one day. ❤️

Sparkles and Sunshine

Sat, 13 Oct 2018 01:30:02 -0600

“My fancy earrings from Daughter #2…perfect for the wedding!”

“Always be humble, gentle, and patient, accepting each other in love. You are joined together with peace through the Spirit, so make every effort to continue together in this way.” Ephesians 4:2-3 NCV

Our good friends, Dianne and Bobby came over to the Ponderosa yesterday and helped us decorate the tent for the wedding. We moved the forty bails of hay and made rows of seating. We strung five hundred white twinkle lights above. We set up the serving tables and hung the cross at the front. We have the extra bales out front and I finally found a use for these two pieces of rustic decorative fencing I’ve had for years. The quilts are all in plastic tubs to keep from gathering moisture. The pulled pork goes in a slow oven in the morning and the fried chicken goes in the smoker to heat up.

The soft drinks and water are already in the big galvanized washtubs chilling outdoors overnight and ice will be added in the afternoon. My sweet friend Deneene came from South Carolina and arrived at 4:30. We went to town to fill up two big propane tanks for TOW-Wanda because I ran out of propane in the middle of the night. It was REALLY cold by morning! We dropped the tanks back off at the Ponderosa then we went to the farm to get Mr. FixIt’s white dinner jacket. As I was leaving I saw my mom’s quilt peeking out from under a stack of linens and grabbed it. I also brought the big box of fireworks we bought for the wedding.

And now, the day is here. I found a bag with a bunch of jewelry in it when I was at the farm yesterday. Last night I was showing my friend Deneene something in the bag and ran across these earrings. Daughter #2 bought me these for Christmas many years ago. I never had an occasion to wear time so they have been tucked away in a safe place…just waiting for the most special occasion. I sent my daughter this picture and asked if she remembered these. I told her I finally have a special occasion to wear them. You’re supposed to have something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue. I haven’t borrowed anything yet, but the center stone in these earrings is the palest ice blue topaz, they’re old in that I’ve had them for years and they’re new in that I have never worn them. My daughter said that made her all fuzzy inside. I wish my girls could be here. But we will celebrate when we get to Colorado next.

Today! TODAY!!! I’m marrying my best friend today. The sweetest man on the planet. I’ve never been more ready, more prepared.

“Thank you, Jesus…for every gift, every blessing, every friend and family member. Bless those who cannot join us today. Bless my cousin Tom and his wife Suzy as he fights the ravages of mesothelioma. Bless my Uncle Bud and cousins as they sit with their wife and mother as she inches toward her final journey home. And Bless all these wonderful people who come here to read about how You impact my life. Lord, thank you for the gift of love from Mr. Virgo. Thank you for letting lightning strike twice and bringing me Mr FixIt. This is a love affair for the ages!

And, as always…To God be the Glory.

Amen”

❤️

I’m a Risk-taking Storyteller

Tue, 02 Oct 2018 01:30:31 -0600

“I am willing to risk being wrong.”

“He who observes the wind will not sow, and he who regards the clouds will not reap. As you do not know the way the spirit comes to the bones in the womb of a woman with child, so you do not know the work of God who makes everything. In the morning sow your seed, and at evening withhold not your hand, for you do not know which will prosper, this or that, or whether both alike will be good. Light is sweet, and it is pleasant for the eyes to see the sun. So if a person lives many years, let him rejoice in them all; but let him remember that the days of darkness will be many. All that comes is vanity.”
Ecclesiastes 11:4-8 ESV

Let’s face it…I’m a risk-taker. I wasn’t always. I stood at the edge of many a precipice, leaning forward just enough to deem the venture far too scary to attempt. And, being a perfectionist compounded the issue with my “If I can’t overachieve, I will not try” personality. This has kept me from experiencing many incredible moments that, at the very least would have been entertaining, and more than likely would have changed my life. But, change wasn’t something I was interested in.

I remember when my 20-year marriage was falling apart. I had been in therapy for depression stemming from a past filled with abuse, both to me and by me. Sexual abuse. Emotional abuse. Alcohol abuse. Prescription abuse. When my ex-husband was at the end of his rope, he had some therapy of his own to gain the tools he needed to take care of himself. He was changing right in front of me and it scared me more than anything else had. Because I knew where this was headed. My long-standing abandonment issues assured me I would be alone and destitute and living on the streets. Of course, that never happened, but I distinctly remember him saying something to me and asking him just how much he was going to change because I didn’t like it. I can look back on that moment now and realize he was actually saving my life, but at the time, I was horrified.

When I found myself dangling by the end of my own rope, I was forced to change or die. I’d love to say it was an easy choice and I moved right on by the huge crevasse that had opened in my life, but that was not the case. I overdosed and came as close to death as I care to go at this point in my life. And that was, as they say, the bottom of the barrel.

I wasn’t a Christian yet, but I saw a tunnel before me of the most beautiful shade of cobalt blue surrounded with rays of gold…like a giant eclipse of the sun. While I was in this tunnel, my dead grandma came to me and stood by my side. She sternly told me, “Get back down there, young lady! You have work to do!” It took me five years and the death of my mother and the prayers of some really great people to find Jesus and my life changed in an instant. Not that my circumstances were ideal and I didn’t still struggle. I did. But I felt every cell in my body come alive and become new. It was…THE change. The really BIG change.

My fear level plummeted. I became a risk taker. After two failed marriages, Mr. Virgo came into my life and I plunged off the cliff of a third marriage holding hands with a wonderful man. We enjoyed seven years of this bliss before he died suddenly as we were planning our golden years. Grief chiseled me into who I am today. Stronger, to be sure. Softer, more empathetic. Grief became my story…and I’m an avid storyteller.

Now, here I am…about to jump off the cliff again. My fourth marriage. I swear, it’s my LAST marriage. Daughter #1 has taken to calling me “Liz”. Someone asked me the other day if I was scared. My answer was, “Heck no! I’m marrying my very best friend whom I’ve known for fifty years. Bring it on!” I realized a couple of days later what she meant….

Was I scared of losing Mr. FixIt like I lost Mr. Virgo?

I pondered. This is why no one likes to talk about death and grief. It hits too darned close to home. Am I worried that Mr. FixIt will drop dead in front of me? I’d be lying if I said no. Am I willing to risk going through loss and grief again so that I can experience the love of another wonderful man? Absolutely! And you know why I say that? Because, I’m a risk-taker now. Ever since I laid everything on the line for Jesus, I’ve been firmly in the camp of “I’m willing to risk being wrong.” It took me 14 months of being engaged to Mr. FixIt to prepare for this marriage. It took standing up and adding the caveat of living separately for the month before the wedding as a sacrifice and atonement for living together before we were married. And it took the assurance of a loving God that He will always and forever have my back in all things I do. I will not be afraid.

They say God will catch you and teach to you fly. I am sure there will be many flying lessons ahead, but it’s a risk I’m willing to take and a story I’m willing to tell. ❤️

The Devolution of Man

Mon, 01 Oct 2018 01:30:05 -0600

“Foggy morning at the farm.”

I’m a scientist at heart. I’ve worked in medicine since I was 17 years old. I was married to a doctor for 21 years. I am a Christian. And the question of creation versus evolution is hard for me to answer completely. As a scientist, I have seen empirical evidence of evolution. It’s difficult for me to argue with DNA and carbon dating and fossils. As a Christian, I believe that God spoke the world into existence and breathed life into all things. When we read the Bible, we are interpreting it through our current base of experiences and knowledge. We read Genesis 1:26 “Let us make man in our image.” Was God talking literally? As in, the way we look today? Humans look different than they did even a thousand years ago. We are taller and certainly bigger than our distant ancestors. So, was He speaking metaphorically? Spiritually? Was He talking about attributes we are familiar with in this day and age? Was there a Big Bang? What is time? Is it measured precisely as it was in the beginning? Was a day exactly 24 hours and a year exactly 365 days? I don’t know the answer to all of these questions because, while I am continuing to learn and grow in my faith, I have not seen God personally. I experience God daily. That is different. I will leave these questions to those who are far better educated than I. Someday, we will know.

My point today is not the “e”volution of man, but the “d”evolution. Devolution is defined as “perversion; deterioration of morality.” I think we can all agree this is what we are seeing on the daily in the news and on all forms of social media. It doesn’t matter which side of the aisle you sit on. It doesn’t matter what your faith, race, sexual identity, nationality, level of education, IQ, or genetic makeup is…there’s something decidedly crazy going on in the world. I’m not sure our country has seen this level of divisiveness since the ‘50s or ‘60s.

Here’s just one small example that I ran across the other day. There is a meme going around on FB that shows President Clinton with a blonde woman with a caption “Bill Clinton and Dr. Ford” with “WELL, WELL, WELL” written across it. Intimating what, exactly? Collusion? A mass conspiracy in the ‘90s to supplant a Supreme Court nominee sometime in the year 2018? I don’t know. The woman in the photo is actually Senator Kirsten Gillibrand, a Democrat and a Senator from New York. Ok…memes happen all the time. Right, Left, true, false…whatever. While these things are irresponsible and show a lack of even a basic level of curiosity as to the veracity of the information being openly disseminated, my biggest problem is the responses they generate.

People I know…or, thought I knew. People who went to school with me. People who claim to be Christians. People who fight for the proper treatment of animals but absolutely, openly, viciously trash human beings who believe differently than they do. In the last couple of years, it seems we (and by “we”, I mean the collective “we”) have lost our ability to govern our tongues. The very people who are furious that God has been taken out of the classroom are lashing out with a vengeance at…I don’t know…everybody. I can let it make me crazy or depressed or angry. Or, I can choose to take the high road. I can check my own tongue and moral compass. Let me just drop a few lines from life’s instruction manual…

Whoever keeps his mouth and his tongue keeps himself out of trouble. Proverbs 21:23

Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up, as fits the occasion, that it may give grace to those who hear. Ephesians 4:29

A soft answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger. Proverbs 15:1

There is one whose rash words are like sword thrusts, but the tongue of the wise brings healing. Proverbs 12:18

Set a guard, O Lord, over my mouth; keep watch over the door of my lips! Psalm 141:3

Here’s a good one…If anyone thinks he is religious and does not bridle his tongue but deceives his heart, this person’s religion is worthless. James 1:26

Keep your tongue from evil and your lips from speaking deceit. Psalm 34:13

Oh, I love this one…Even a fool who keeps silent is considered wise; when he closes his lips, he is deemed intelligent. Proverbs 17:28

Death and life are in the power of the tongue, and those who love it will eat its fruits. 1 Peter 3:10

A gentle tongue is a tree of life, but perverseness in it breaks the spirit. Proverbs 15:4

Has your spirit felt broken by the words of others? I know the easiest answer of all would be to get off social media altogether, but like it or not, this is how many of us keep in touch with friends and family. Oh, you can hide the posts. You can scroll right on past and not engage. But that doesn’t solve the problem. That doesn’t improve matters. That doesn’t swing our moral compass back toward true north.

It’s a “sticky wicket”, as they say in England. It’s not an easy thing to do. We aren’t the moral police meaning we can’t force others to bend at our will, as they are perhaps trying to bend ours. But what we CAN do is be a light in the world. We can live by example. We cannot change others, but we can show a different way to be. And remember, the instruction manual also says this…

Brothers, if anyone is caught in any transgression, you who are spiritual should restore him in a spirit of gentleness. Keep watch on yourself, lest you too be tempted. Galatians 6:1

As for a person who stirs up division, after warning him once and then twice, have nothing more to do with him, knowing such a person is warped and sinful; he is self-condemned. Titus 3:10-11

If you’re looking for me, I’ll be cleaning up my friends list now. ❤️

The Feeling of Prayers

Mon, 24 Sep 2018 01:30:49 -0600

“When someone prays for me, it’s like a thousand feathered angel wings wrapping around me.”

“Devote yourselves to prayer, being watchful and thankful.” Colossians 4:2 NIV

I will never forget when my friend Bill told me I was on his daily prayer list ever since the overdose at the end of my second marriage. I was...stunned. Here he was, a busy Emergency Room physician and a missionary in a country and location they could not reveal for fear of being killed. And I was on his daily prayer list?

When I finally became a Christian in 2005, the first people I told were my neighbors, Bob and Ellie. I asked them over, sat them on the couch, and told them I had accepted Christ as my personal Savior. They both immediately burst into tears and said, “Oh, we both have been praying so hard for you!”

When I revealed on Saturday that Mr. FixIt and I were getting married and shared the reason why, several of you told me you had been praying for me to hear God’s whispers and do what was right.

This was astonishing to me. I have prayed for countless people and circumstances, but I don’t think about others praying FOR me. Maybe my safety and comfort and good circumstances actually came because of the prayers of others. My grandma comes to mind. I can guarantee she prayed for me. Many times.

Hindsight tells me the gradual discomfort I felt when I was someplace on my journey I shouldn’t have been was at least partially due to the prayers of others trying to lead me back home. I once asked you here to pray for me and I felt a supernatural comfort…like a thousand feathered angel wings wrapped all around me. This is what the prayer of another feels like if you can open yourself to it. It’s physical. It’s supernatural. And it’s very, very real.

Praying for the happiness of my ex-husband and his soon-to-be wife allowed forgiveness which gave me peace. Praying for my children and grandchildren gives me hope for their safety and well-being. Praying for Mr. FixIt brings me reassurance of his strength and leadership for our family as we prepare to marry. Prayer can be felt by those you pray for. They may not have a clue it’s your prayers they are feeling, but trust me…they feel it in one way or another. So, keep praying. If there is someone who is lost, pray them home. If there is someone who is discouraged, pray for bravery. If there is someone who is broken, pray for peace. Prayer never hurt anyone and even though you may never see the results, it makes a difference. Because God listens. He hears. He cares. He loves us more than anything you could possibly imagine.

Take this into your week and be encouraged. Prayer changes things…even if it’s just inside of you. ❤️

A Man of Honor

Sun, 26 Aug 2018 01:30:40 -0600

“Senator John McCain 1936-2018”

“Good people leave an inheritance to their grandchildren...” Proverbs 13:22 NLT

*****Disclaimer: I removed a blatant political comment from a reader. For one, because we don’t discuss politics here. I am not rewarding that kind of negativity with a response. I am not making a political statement by honoring Senator McCain. I am honoring a man who was a devoted family man...a husband, father, friend. I am honoring a soldier, like Mr. Virgo. I am remembering the sacrifices he made for this country....sitting in a Vietnamese prison as a POW, for one. I may not have always agreed with his politics, but I can still honor a man who reached across the aisles.

And lastly, the comment included a slur that I will not ever tolerate on this page. The “r” word. There is no place for that here.

I am surprised, and dismayed, at the number of people who have unliked my page this morning…obviously because of this post. I hate that we live in such a divisive society that we can’t tolerate a post that remarks on the death of someone in the political arena that sits on the other side of the aisle. I wrote this as a memorial of sorts. Not only to Senator McCain, but to his family and loved ones who are now members of a club many of us belong to and didn’t ask to join.

And to another of Mr. Virgo’s wonderful stories.*****

I am a liberal Democrat, but I really liked Senator John McCain. He spoke in a no-nonsense way and didn’t mince words. He told it like it was and he wasn’t particularly concerned who’s feathers it might ruffle.

When Mr. Virgo and I first started dating, he worked at the Hotel Jerome in Aspen. Every September, Teddy Forstmann…a wealthy NY financier…gathered the best and the brightest from around the world for the Forstmann Little Conference. He was brilliant and chose an eclectic group…from four-star generals to political powerhouses to athletic superstars. All expenses were paid and the guest roster was always super secret until the opening of the conference. No one ever spoke of the contents of the discussions in the room. Mr. Virgo and the manager of the hotel were the only two people on staff who had a high enough security clearance to go inside. And they were sworn to secrecy.

Mr. Virgo and I had been dating about a year when the conference convened in September 2006. General Colin Powell was in a wheelchair after breaking a leg. Mr. Virgo told me about tripping over him when he was serving and nearly landing in his lap. He was hush-hush about all but one…Senator John McCain. Mr. Virgo was a staunch Republican. We decided early on we were going to just agree to disagree about politics and call it good. He rarely ever brought it up, but this particular night…he came home in awe. He said, “This man needs to run for the Presidency.” He raved about the Senator’s ability to capture a room and mesmerize his audience in his straight-shooter fashion. He couldn’t stop talking about him.

I liked Senator McCain. He was compassionate yet a maverick as he fought with both sides of the aisle. His sense of honor and duty were exemplary. We’ve known for over a year now that he had an aggressive brain cancer. We knew we would be losing him. His treatments allowed him many months of a better quality of life than he would have had otherwise and that offered his family more time to share with their loved one. As those of us who have lost a spouse know, no amount of preparation ahead of time eases the pain of loss and there is a family out there today that is grieving the death of a great man. My heart goes out to them today and my prayer is for their comfort and strength to get through the coming days, weeks, months without him.

Rest In Peace, sir. Thank you for your service.

Senator John McCain 1936-2018

Another Layer of the Onion

Wed, 22 Aug 2018 01:30:47 -0600

“Sunset over the Ponderosa.”

“The Lord examines the righteous, but the wicked, those who love violence, he hates with a passion.” Psalm 11:5 NIV

One would think, after nearly five-and-a-half years as a widow, I wouldn’t still be gaining insights into the nature of grief. After all, I’ve written nearly 2,000 daily essays...many dealing with the subjects of death and dying. I’ve passed many milestones. I’ve fallen in love again. Yet, it never ceases to amaze me when I get to peel back another layer and learn something about myself through the lens of loss.

Before Mr. Virgo died, I never really thought about death…not on the daily anyway. I had certainly dealt with loss. My beloved grandma, my wonderful mom, and even my estranged father. Still, those losses didn’t put death in my sights. Since his death, however, the prospect of losing someone so close to me again has caused me a great deal of anxiety and a fair amount of fear. Early on, there were so many times when I felt I was just one crisis from losing it completely and my prayer was always, “Lord, please keep everyone safe. I can’t lose another one. I don’t have it in me.” I remember telling people I loved to be extra careful. Don’t get hurt. What I was really saying was, “Please, don’t die.”

As I’ve told you often, I don’t watch TV…I catch my news online so I can pick and choose what I watch. I have noticed changes in the last six months or so. I can concentrate enough to read a book now. I can knit again. I can even go to the movies…something I’d only done once since Mr. Virgo died. Mr. FixIt and I went last week and it was wonderful. Things are changing. Things are healing. And, while I don’t make a regular diet of the news, I have watched the news on occasion lately.

It’s culture shock. After not watching TV for years, watching it is…visceral. Politics. Severe weather. Fires. Crime. It’s been a difficult summer in the world. Last week I was transfixed by the case of Chris Watts. While the facts of the case are abhorrent, my interest was from a psychological standpoint. I saw his interviews with the press. I watched his body language. I knew he was lying. And, I knew he was going to blame his wife for killing the girls and then he was going to say it was a crime of passion. It was like the script was written all over his face. Then, yesterday, they found the body of Mollie Tibbetts after a high profile search. Another layer of the onion of grief was pulled back to reveal a deep fear.

Being a grandmother, one cannot watch stories such as these without thinking of your grandchildren. I realized I had watched too much…dived too deep… when I spent the night clutching my pillow to my chest and begging God to protect my people. I felt riddled with anxiety. My granddaughters are adolescents…attractive, smart, gregarious. I want them to be invisible. I want them to walk around with a force field. I want them to stay in their rooms till they are forty. But, of course I don’t really. I want them to live their lives. I want them to be joyful. I want them to learn and have adventures and be strong women. I just want them to be safe.

I will back away from the television now. It causes me dis-ease. I cannot control the world. I can’t keep bad things from happening. I can’t hover over my children and grandchildren. But I can send out as much love and light into the world as I can. And I can encourage others to do the same. I can dish out heaping helpings of encouragement and positivity. With enough prayer and love and light, maybe we will see the change we so desperately hope for…we so desperately need. Walking strong in my faith, knowing who is really in control, soothes me. ?

When The Unthinkable Happens

Tue, 31 Jul 2018 01:30:44 -0600

“What do you do when the unthinkable really happens to someone you know?”

Everyone thinks their grief is the worst grief ever…because it is theirs. This is legitimate because it is YOU that is dealing with it, YOU that has lost your person. It’s hard to imagine it being any worse than it is…at least, at first it is. After some time, you begin to hear stories of other’s loss and you begin to see where they have gone through much worse things. This doesn’t negate your experience at all. But it does give you incredible empathy for others who are struggling.

Over the course of the last five years, I have spoken with countless widows and widowers who have lost their spouses…everything from the sudden death of a heart attack like Mr. Virgo to long, drawn out diseases such as cancer that took their loved one ever so slowly. I have often thought, while my loss was sudden and shocking, I couldn’t imagine watching him suffer. I told myself, if I had to lose him, at least it was fast and relatively painless, from what I could tell.

One of the harder things to imagine is losing a child or a grandchild. That goes against nature…we aren’t supposed to outlive our youngsters. Or death by suicide. It is so hard to know what to say to those left behind. I’ve written about this many times…especially what NOT to say. You should never say “They’re in a better place.” Because, they aren’t to the ones left behind. They should still be HERE. THIS is the better place. You should never trivialize another’s grief by going into your own story. There is a place for that, especially when asked by the newly bereaved a question like, “How did you handle this?” The best thing you can do is offer a hug or some other form of support like errands, food, or chores. As far as what to say, a simple “I am so sorry. My heart is with you in your loss” should suffice when you have no other words.

I’ve faced people with all kinds of grief, but I came up against something yesterday that broke me. A sweet friend I know from camping lost her son and his girlfriend two days ago to murder abroad. I struggled all day yesterday with what to say that would make a difference. Finally, I told our mutual friend who was going to go sit with her to please tell her I am praying so hard for her and her family. I am praying for comfort, for endurance, for strength, for courage. And to tell her my heart is breaking for her.

This is new territory for me. It’s the ultimate unthinkable scenario. The worst of the worst case scenarios. And, just that morning, I read in my daily devotions…

1 Peter 5:10NIV “And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast. To him be the power for ever and ever. Amen.”

It must be incredibly difficult to maintain your faith when the unthinkable happens and your child is lost in such a violent manner. It must be terribly confusing to make important decisions while navigating laws and language barriers with a foreign country all while you are totally numb. It must be so frightening to do this with very little family to support you. You pray there are close friends who will help in your time of need. My faith always brings me back to seeking God in every situation. In this, I am reminded...God does not bring these tragedies upon us. He is not punishing us for some transgression. There is evil in the world and terrible, evil, unthinkable things happen. And, while it may indeed be a very long season for you to get through this unspeakable thing, God wants you to know your suffering is finite. He will bring you strength and will restore you. Not in the same form you were. But in a different way, a different person, a different life. He will make you strong, firm, and steadfast, though you may not always feel that way. He will never leave you nor forsake you, though sometimes it will feel as though He has gone quiet and distant. He restores your soul. Yes, this I know. As Marilyn Meburg (@marilynmeburg) said in her “Early Nite Munch” on Twitter last night, “How does our sweet shepherd restore our soul? It’s after we have emptied the contents of our hurt and He’s still listening. He holds our quivering mass of uncertainty in His hands and whispers “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

That’s the best I can offer in this saddest of all circumstances. This I do know…it’s ok to not know what to say or do. But, at least try to say or do something. Even if it’s just a sincere, “I’m so sorry.” This is not my story to tell, so I will not identify my friend or her son. But please…lift this mother who lost her boy and his girlfriend in the most unimaginable way…lift them in prayer and ask God to wrap them in His feathered wings as they take each next step on this arduous journey. God knows who they are.

And…tell your loves that you love them. ❤

Hotter Than a Firecracker

Fri, 06 Jul 2018 01:30:00 -0600

“El Jebel, Colorado burns in the night.”

“Now Mount Sinai was wrapped in smoke because the Lord had descended on it in fire. The smoke of it went up like the smoke of a kiln, and the whole mountain trembled greatly.” ‭‭Exodus‬ ‭19:18‬ ‭ESV‬

Colorado is on fire...and not in a good way. There are fires everywhere here. This picture shows the little town of El Jebel, not too far from where I worked. The building in front is the Whole Foods Grocery. It makes me so sad to see this. This particular fire started when two guys were shooting tracers at the firing range and caught the brittle, dry brush on fire. Colorado had a drastically low snowfall this year and record low rainfall this spring. It is literally a tinder box right now and anything can cause a fire that will quickly rage out of control.

I’ve lived through two terrible fires here. The first was the Storm King Fire. It started as a lonesome little pine tree that was struck by lightning one afternoon and smoldered for a couple of days before a dry, hot wind fanned it into flames. The resulting conflagration took the lives of 14 smokejumpers from Oregon. The other was the Coal Seam Fire that looked much like this picture. I was driving from Glenwood Springs to New Castle the day it blew up and jumped the interstate AND the Colorado River in an arc right over my car. I was the last car that came through before they closed the road. I remember standing in the street in front of my house, looking at the hillside several miles away in the middle of the night. It looked like a thousand campfires.

If you live in the mountains here, you don’t wonder IF you’re going to have a fire. You wonder WHEN you are going to have a fire. My friends have been posting on Facebook about the stress of keeping a bug out bag by the door for a quick escape. I remember wondering…”What would I grab? What is the most important?” I have always kept my most important papers in a file box with a handle that I could keep near the door and grab on my way out.

Yes, this fire was man made. As is the one in the southern part of the state that is nearing 100,000 acres. But, as a friend of mine pointed out, we have been starting fires for over 10,000 years. There is a natural cycle of forest management that includes fire. As a matter of fact, there are certain evergreen trees that will not release the seeds from their pine cones unless they are exposed to the high temperatures that a fire would produce, which goes to show me fire is part of the grander scheme of things. It is human intrusion that has placed us in the way of the inevitable.

I’m hanging out here in Denver for a couple more days to acclimate to the altitude before I head up into the mountains to see my brother. Please pray for rain…and for the firefighters and homeowners…we are so desperately dry here. ❤

It’s Popsicle Time!

Wed, 27 Jun 2018 01:30:05 -0600

“There’s nothing more soothing than a Popsicle when you are recovering from surgery!”

“For I will restore health to you, and your wounds I will heal, declares the Lord...'” ‭‭Jeremiah‬ ‭30:17‬ ‭ESV‬‬

I cannot remember a time in my life that didn’t include Popsicles. One of my earliest memories is my mom breaking a twin pop to share with my brother on a hot summer day. Orange was always my favorite, but grape runs a close second. Or is it cherry? I never liked banana. Other than that, it was fair game.

As I was recuperating from this surgery, some things became apparent to me. The last time I had surgery was in 1999 when I had my sinuses done. Not a pleasant surgery with nasal splints and sleeping sitting up in a recliner. But still, I was 46. It was a relative walk in the park. As we…ummmm, “ripen”…we don’t bounce back quite as fast as we used to. Anesthesia and 3-4 Vicodin over a 24 hour period and I was toast. The pain was well-controlled, but I just hate the feeling narcotics gives me so I switched to Tylenol. Everything was going along pretty well, except I was really tired. Then, Monday night the pain hit. A burning, stabbing pain deep in the area where the tumor was removed kept me awake all night. I finally drifted off around 5:00am and slept a couple of hours.

As I lay there awake, I read the Bible, did my devotionals, caught up with everyone on Facebook, chatted with my son-in-law’s mom in the middle of the night, and Googled “pain after excisional biopsy of the breast”. It seems to be pretty normal to get to the fourth or fifth day and start feeling some pretty significant twinges in the surgical area. For one thing, all the numbing and anesthesia is completely gone. Things are starting to knit back together and that means some nerve pain as you heal. The area where my tumor was is directly behind the nipple and that is some pretty tender territory. Remember nursing? That little baby latching on with jaws of steel could send you through the roof. Imagine getting sliced and diced in that general area and no sweet baby to distract you.

I gave up trying to sleep and headed to town with Mr. FixIt for several errands. When we were finished, we went to the farm so he could finish mowing. I spoke with my uncle on Monday and he and my aunt (his and my mom’s sister) are coming Thursday for an overnight visit. I needed to get the house in tip top shape for company so I spent the afternoon fixing up the three beds with fresh sheets, airing out the house, and sweeping up a winter’s worth of dead Asian Lady Bugs in the upstairs bedrooms. I washed bedding and fluffed and primped everything to perfection. I’m really looking forward to them coming and staying the night. It’s my first family company since I took over the caretaking duties at the farm. This is the aunt who lived at the farm for years and it is her first visit back since she went to live with her brother. I want her to enjoy it and feel pampered.

I’ll make them some yummy treats for Thursday. His favorite is yellow cake with penuche frosting. Hers is butterscotch pie. I’m so excited to see them! We’ll drive up the new road behind the farm that goes out to the compressor station they are building. That might be bittersweet for them. I know it is for me.

And now, the news we have all been waiting for. I received my biopsy report yesterday. The tumor was indeed a fibroadenoma. It is the most common benign breast mass. Benign = NOT CANCER! The other day I was talking about when I was prayed over and anointed. And it turns out to be benign. I want to point out something. Yes, God can still heal. He can perform miracles. AND…there are plenty of wonderful, GOOD Christians who pray faithfully and they still get cancer. Cancer doesn’t play favorites. It doesn’t discriminate. It doesn’t care if you are rich or poor, black or white or any other color of the rainbow. It doesn’t care if you’re a Christian or a Jew or a Muslim or an atheist. It doesn’t care. Something triggers cells to multiply abnormally. It’s as simple as that. My faith tells me God can answer prayers. And sometimes…unfortunately…the answer is no and a bad diagnosis comes. It is one of the horrible thieves that rob us of life and health. I am very grateful that my (and your) prayers were answered in a positive way. Thank you so much for caring. Now I don’t have to worry about that anymore. Just rest and heal and head to Colorado in a week!!! ❤

Drink Coffee...Pray Boldly

Sun, 17 Jun 2018 01:30:55 -0600

“Pray BOLDLY at every opportunity…even at coffee with the girls.”

“If you don’t know what you’re doing, pray to the Father. He loves to help. You’ll get his help, and won’t be condescended to when you ask for it. Ask boldly, believingly, without a second thought. People who “worry their prayers” are like wind-whipped waves. Don’t think you’re going to get anything from the Master that way, adrift at sea, keeping all your options open.” ‭‭James‬ ‭1:5-8‬ ‭MSG‬‬

Yesterday was coffee day with the girls...those magnificent ‘71 Divas from my high school class. We didn’t all know each other in high school. We really became most acquainted through Facebook and efforts to gather as many classmates as possible for class reunions, dinners, picnics, and the like. We are, all to often it seems, meeting at funeral homes anymore. I decided four years ago us gals need to get together and form a tribe...a sense of community of the feminine...when I came back to West Virginia to live. Now, we look at our monthly meetings as caffeine fueled talk therapy and I’ve seldom missed it.

There weren’t as many gals gathered yesterday. Illness, hospitalization, vacations, and general summer business kept many of our regulars away. There were also a few who came that don’t get to attend very often. It’s always a different group but the dynamic is the same. We are there to have fun, let our hair down, laugh a lot, and offer support to one another as we learn what’s new in each other’s lives.

My friend Diane came and brought me one-third of my birthday present. She called the other day and wanted to meet up with me. We had a miscommunication and she ended up waiting for 45 minutes out at the farm and when it got too hot and I didn’t show up, she went home. She had to take my gifts with her…two-thirds of which were perishable. Yesterday, she gave me my card. Imagine my dismay when I learned of the flowers and chocolate covered strawberries she had brought me Wednesday! I felt so awful about that…she went to so much trouble. But, we laughed it off. She gave the flowers to a friend she had dinner with that night and ate the strawberries on the way home so all was not lost!

When the majority of the gals had left for the day, my friend Lisa and I sat and talked to one of our friends who hung behind. She confided that we looked like someone who could help her. She had a prayer request. We talked about it a while, offering advice and comfort. When she asked for prayers, Lisa (you remember her from a previous post a month or two ago) took our friend’s hand and said, “Well, let’s just pray now.” The three of us sat in a very public area of the historic hotel where we gather, held hands and prayed together. Boldly. Unashamed. As a matter of fact, I didn’t even think about it until later.

There was a time in my life when I looked at people praying over their meal in a restaurant or holding hands together in public, praying, and I felt…I don’t know…uncomfortable, self-conscious, embarrassed for them? I was decidedly unenlightened in those days yet I thought I was SO evolved. In the last several years, I have become much bolder with prayer. There is no reason to feel ashamed or embarrassed to offer prayer anytime the Spirit moves you or you are asked. I was really happy to be able to pray with my friends. I always ask God to bring me more prayer opportunities and the bravery to carry them out. It is an honor and a privilege.

Today is Father’s Day. For some of you, it is the first without your loved one and the firsts are hard…and sometimes the third and the tenth and….. Please know that I will pray boldly for you today that you know God is with you to offer comfort and solace in your broken places. You are so loved! ❤

Memorial Day Weekend

Sat, 26 May 2018 01:30:32 -0600

“Memorial Day is for Remembering.” It’s not just about barbecues and family get togethers. It’s not about opening up the pool for the season or heading to the hills with the camper. It’s about remembering those who have gone before us. Flags are placed on the graves of veterans. Graves are spruced up and flowers are laid. And we remember.

My mom is buried on the far end there. She has purple flowers. Purple was her favorite color. Just ask anyone who knew her. It went so well with her perfectly white hair. Her headstone has my brother’s name engraved beside hers. The next headstone is my Uncle Bob’s. He lived at home all his life. He had a bad stutter and the kids at school made fun of him so Grandma kept him home to work the farm. He was strong as an ox and had the gentle heart of a lamb. His job every week was to ring the church bell to gather the worshipers at the little white church house on the hill. His headstone is engraved with “Mgr. of the Bell”. He was an angel unawares.

Grandma then Pop-Pop come next. Then Uncle Sonny who was killed in a plane crash in Germany in 1955. He was an Air Force Pilot. He was the light of everyone’s life and the light dimmed greatly for this family when he left us. Even though I don’t remember him, the stories I’ve heard all my life make me feel like I knew him.

Tucked between the two far headstones is a small tuft of Mr. Virgo’s silver hair that I buried when I moved here. Even though he is buried overlooking the house we shared in Colorado, I wanted a piece of him here in the family cemetery where I could visit him. One of my friends lives just a stone’s throw from Mr. Virgo’s final resting place overlooking the golf course we used to play. I texted her yesterday and asked her, yet again, if she could leave a handful of wildflowers on his grave for me this weekend. I know he will get his flag, but I wanted him to have flowers, too. Jeanne told me that even though she never met him when he was living, she feels a kinship with him. She speaks to him every day when she walks through the graves on her way to the hiking trail in the hills beyond. She is always happy to lay a lilac or a peony with a whispered hello from me. She told me she found a glow in the dark golf ball and set it on her kitchen sink. She’s going to take that along as well. He’ll love that!

Here’s a salute to all the men and women who gave of themselves to serve our country. Here’s to those who soldiered on at home while their loved ones were gone. And here’s to the Gold Star parents whose child gave their all, most often on foreign soil, far removed from any comfort they may have provided. That loss weighed so heavy on my grandma. She always pictured that maybe, if she were there, she could have at least been there in his final moments, even though he was killed instantly. A mother thinks these things.

As you celebrate the first grand weekend of summer…please, remember. ??❤??

“Though an army besiege me, my heart will not fear; though war break out against me, even then I will be confident. One thing I ask from the Lord, this only do I seek: that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to gaze on the beauty of the Lord and to seek him in his temple. For in the day of trouble he will keep me safe in his dwelling; he will hide me in the shelter of his sacred tent and set me high upon a rock.” ‭‭Psalm‬ ‭27:3-5‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Still Praying Together

Sun, 13 May 2018 01:30:50 -0600

“My good friend, Lisa and me.”

It was the fall of 1960 when I met Lisa. We were in second grade together in Mrs. Alexander’s room. It depends who you talk to. Some say Mrs. Alexander was a sweetheart. Others…not so much. She seemed to have one student every year that was on her black list. Nothing you could do would please her if you were on her dark side…and that is the unenviable position I found myself in during second grade.

She made me nervous. And when I get nervous, I can’t eat. Every day I would try to eat my lunch because every day she saved my lunch tray to show my mom that I wasn’t eating. I always felt like I was in trouble. Mom took me to the doctor and he gave me a “tonic” that I took a spoonful of every day. Together, they decided Mom should pack my lunch. Maybe it was just the school food I didn’t like. But that wasn’t it. Even when I had my favorite foods in my cute little plaid lunch box, I just could not eat.

One day, before lunch, I was standing in line to wash my hands in the bathroom. My stomach was churning and I knew I was going to have trouble eating. I was praying under my breath, when the little girl in front of me turned around and looked me straight in the eye. It was Lisa.

“Are you praying?” she asked.

I silently nodded my head and cast my eyes downward…ashamed to be in such a dire circumstance.

“What are you praying about?”

“Mrs. Alexander scares me and I can’t eat. Every day I get in trouble because I don’t eat my lunch. She even took me to the office and the Principal spanked me!” My words tumbled over each other as I confessed my self-perceived weakness.

“Well, here…I’ll pray with you.” Lisa wrapped her arm around my shoulder and hugged me close and we both prayed that I could eat again and that Mrs. Alexander would leave me alone.

I was stunned by her kindness. I was relieved beyond words. Someone cared. Someone understood me. Someone wanted to help me. And…it was a little girl I didn’t know. I instantly loved her.

Amazingly, that is the last time I remember the whole lunch fiasco. I don’t remember if my appetite returned, but I do know we moved shortly after that and I started attending a new school. I never had to deal with Mrs. Alexander again.

Lisa and I attended high school together but we didn’t cross paths. We had a huge class and circles sometimes stuck to who you went to junior high with. However, several years later, I ran into Lisa at a high school reunion. She is an associate pastor now. I asked her if she remembered praying with me in the restroom before lunch that autumn day so long ago. But, alas…she did not. You see, Lisa was struck by a car as she crossed the street several years ago and very nearly died of her injuries. It left her with some long term memory loss. She was happy to know she helped me though, and we have become good friends.

Lisa recently suffered a heart attack and we were absolutely thrilled when she came to coffee yesterday with the ‘71 Divas. She looks wonderful, healthy, strong. I couldn’t stop hugging her. She asked how Mr. FixIt was. She went all through school with him. Last year, when she found out we were dating, she literally jumped up out of her chair and threw her hands in the air and praised Jesus.

“If there were anyone in the whole wide world I would want the two of you to have, it would be each other. This is PERFECT!” I couldn’t help but laugh and clap along with her exuberance. Lisa is wonderful. She is a straight shooter. She has seen her share of hardships in this life and has come out a loving, giving, God-centric woman and I love her dearly. I just wanted to share her with you today.

Sending you love and light and prayers for continued good health, my friend. ❤

“Again I say to you, if two of you agree on earth about anything they ask, it will be done for them by my Father in heaven. For where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I among them."” ‭‭Matthew‬ ‭18:19-20‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Faith or Fear?

Tue, 17 Apr 2018 01:30:12 -0600

“Faith or Fear?”

I love my readers. And I love how God uses them to teach me things. “Betty” (not her real name) sent me a message yesterday morning. She found a little typo and wanted to let me know. Everyone knows I’m a stickler for good grammar and I have a few who help me catch things when they slip through. She always signs off with “WALK STRONG.” I wrote back that I was trying, but I have a few things I’m facing in the coming weeks that I could use some extra prayers for. Immediately, “Betty” came back with a valuable reminder.

God is omnipresent…He is everywhere and all powerful. The enemy is not. Our pastor says he is so small, he is under our boot. So he waits. And he listens. He finds weakness and exploits it. When we speak out loud and voice our fear or anger or doubt, he pounces on that and attacks us through our thoughts. So, we have to be careful about the words we confess…over ourselves, our circumstances, each other. “Betty” reminded me in order to defeat the enemy, we have to beat him at his own game and confess positive, Victory, light…all of which are God’s characteristics. She went on to say you have lay your burdens down at the foot of the cross and walk away. Ohhhhh…that is not an easy thing to do!

“Betty” says…you can have Faith, or you can have fear. You can’t have both…you have to choose. I took that into my situation yesterday. I drove to town professing light, strength, courage, Victory. I laid everything down and walked away and was filled with an incredible sense of peace. “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy…” John 10:10 When you open yourself by confessing fears, you open the door and let the enemy in. “WALK STRONG!” I love that!

Divine appointments. God makes appointments with us every day. He sends the Holy Spirit to counsel us. In this case, He sent “Betty” with word of a typo that turned into a valuable lesson of Faith for me. It literally changed my day. It doesn’t work if you don’t listen. And it doesn’t work if you don’t obey. This life gig is pretty cool if you think about it. We have this incredible supernatural Father that loves us, craves interaction with us, sends a Spirit to coach us and teach us and, dare I say, scold us when we need it. And all we have to do is trust, and believe, and listen, and follow directions. Amazing!

Who is your “Betty” today? ❤

“The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.” ‭‭John‬ ‭10:10‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Missing My Mom

Thu, 12 Apr 2018 01:30:31 -0600

“Do you miss your mom when you’re sick?”

I felt perfectly fine all day yesterday. I ran errands and visited with people. Then, at the end of the day, I got my bangs cut and my stylist said she had a sore throat and felt a cold coming on. By the time I got home, I was feverish, achy, stuffy, coughing…just, ugh. I’m sure I couldn’t possibly have gotten it from her that quickly, but it sure came on fast.

I came home, used my Zicam and took DayQuil and slept for an hour. Used my inhaler. Took my vitamins. Drank tea. Did a tribal dance and twirled a dead chicken over my head. I’m kidding about the dead chicken, but I’d do just about anything to keep from getting a full fledged cold.

Remember when you were a little kid and your mom would take care of you when you were sick? I liked that. Mom would put her cool hand on my fevered brow and go get the thermometer. She would give me a couple of baby aspirin or maybe a piece of that hideous Aspergum. Then she’d make toast and tea. Or milk toast…a slice of toast with warm milk poured over it and sprinkled with sugar. That I wasn’t crazy about. Sometimes she would cuddle me on her lap and sing “Bye-o Baby Buntin” then she would tuck me in and turn down the lights. If I was really sick, she pulled a chair up by my bed and read stories to me till I went to sleep. I miss my mom. Even today when I’m sick, I miss my mom. I have Mr. FixIt, thank God. But nothing ever replaces your mama’s hand on your fevered brow. ❤

“Heal me, Lord, and I will be healed; save me and I will be saved, for you are the one I praise.” ‭‭Jeremiah‬ ‭17:14‬ ‭NIV‬‬

He is Risen!

Sun, 01 Apr 2018 01:30:30 -0600

“He is Risen!”

May you Rejoice and have a Blessed Easter. What was once nothing more than a Hallmark holiday for me has become a day of Rejoicing in the Risen Christ. Mr. FixIt and I went to church last night. They offered two services yesterday and two today. We felt Saturday would be less crowded. Wow…were we wrong! There wasn’t a seat in the place at the 5:00 service. The Worship Team outdid themselves and Pastor Justin gave an amazing message about just exactly WHO Jesus really is. It was wonderful!

If you are a practicing Jew, this is the Passover season. I hope you enjoyed your Seders with friends and family and that your brisket was tender! I was a practicing Jew for 27 years. I organized the Seders for our small town. In 1986, we had 10 people. By the time I quit organizing them ten years later, 75 people attended. I had to finally give it over to a committee because it became too much. People brought side dishes and helped, but they always wanted me to make my famous Matzo Ball Soup and the Charoset and the Brisket and the Kugel. One year I even made homemade Gefilte Fish. It was a ton of work but there is nothing quite so fulfilling as feeding crowds their favorite holiday dishes.

I met my writing deadlines last week. Now it’s time to get those taxes done so it’s back to the farm tonight where I can spread out my papers without distraction. I’ve made continued progress on copying content over to the website. I wish I would have listened to my gut instincts four years ago and built the website then so I wouldn’t have this backlog. But, hindsight is 20/20. It will be great when everything is on the web page because you’ll be able to look back at the early posts more easily. When new widows come on board, they may not find posts they can relate to in my current writing. So I want them to have easy access to relatable topics.

It’s April…can you believe that??? My Pop-Pop was born 119 years ago. He died when he was 72. I had just graduated from high school and it was my first experience with death. My Grandma was so strong. She lost a son 15 years before in a plane crash. I miss them so much. Their farm offers me solace and it’s such a peaceful place to write.

Enjoy this beautiful spring day! ❤️

“They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, but when they entered, they did not find the body of the Lord Jesus.” ‭‭Luke‬ ‭24:2-3‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Calming the Waters

Tue, 13 Mar 2018 01:30:29 -0600

“Psalm 107:29 …the waves of the sea were hushed”

I woke up yesterday after a fitful night. I didn’t close my eyes till 3:30 in the morning…ruminating. That’s what my brain does WAY too often. Good reason this time, though. I awoke and the first thought was…this is the day. It’s here. How do I feel?

I felt…ok. Not up, but not down. Just…there.

I did my devotional. I read your kind and supportive comments. And I started my day. Mr. FixIt asked if I wanted to go to town with him, but I told him I really just wanted to stay home. A little self care was in order. I spoke with people yesterday I hadn’t talked to in years. People reached out to me. I got a ton of virtual hugs. And a bunch of real live ones. It was good.

I love how God answers prayers. He stilled the waters of my soul and filled me with peace yesterday. I puttered in the kitchen and made pot roast…one of my go to comfort foods. After dinner, Mr. FixIt and I watched The Voice…one of my go to comfort activities. I ended the day with a phone call with my sister-in-law, Robyn…one of my go to, all-time favorite people. It was a peaceful day.

The other day, I was reviewing my social media accounts. I just don’t reach people other than word of mouth. The word “grief” is not in the name of my blog and while grief is not my only topic, it is still a big part of what goes on here…at least in the archives and when the waves come. When I created my Twitter account, Marshmallow Ranch had too many letters to go in the name so I abbreviated it making it even harder to find. I sat back and thought about it a while and suddenly a name popped in my head. “The Grief Maven”. Maven is Yiddish for expert and while not all people know the origins, enough people have an understanding of the urban definition, however tangentially. I created a Twitter account…@griefmaven…and started just putting out some memes I created with stuff I share about grief here. In one week I’ve had more activity than all the five years of the other account. A lesson learned in social media marketing.

I posted a tweet yesterday about it being the five year angelversary and within an hour I met two other widows who lost their husbands within a couple of weeks on either side of me. I love that. People I never would have had the opportunity to meet come together because of this blog. God stuff…very cool.

So, I ended my day in a good space. The waters were stilled and I’m ready to see what good things come next. ❤

“He stilled the storm to a whisper; the waves of the sea were hushed.” ‭‭Psalm‬ ‭107:29‬ ‭NIV‬

Endings and Beginnings

Sun, 04 Mar 2018 02:30:19 -0600

Daffodils

I watched my husband die. It was fast. It seemed relatively painless. Not pain free, but not unbearable. He seemed to take everything in stride with a certain…resignation. Like he knew what was coming, so why fight it? Interestingly…it was like that for me too, looking back on it. I’m sure I was in shock, because every time I ever pictured what would happen if/when he died, it certainly wasn’t with me sitting on a stool in the corner of the room answering medical questions in a flat monotone. I wasn’t beating my chest or screaming or even crying. I don’t remember crying till I saw my kids.

As hard as that was to go through, I cannot…simply cannot imagine what people go through who lose their loved one to a terrible, slow, painful death like cancer or COPD or Alzheimer’s. My cousin’s wife came over Friday after making arrangements for her mother’s funeral. Her mom had esophageal cancer. We sat together and I listened to her tell me about the last six months. The long nights. The conflicting medical information. The radiation and chemo. When she got to the night of her mother’s death, I was in such awe of her strength and courage. What she went through for her mom was heroic in my book. What I loved most was when her mom motioned to her, as if she needed to tell her something. When she bent down to listen, her mother kissed her on the cheek and took her last breath. My mother died alone in an ICU because I couldn’t get to her in time. She got a kiss on the cheek! I loved that for her because she will never, ever forget that loving gesture.

Crocus

Real death isn’t like the movies. Sometimes it’s that peaceful scene where the family gathers around and tells their loved one how important they were in their lives and how much they loved them. Sometimes there’s soft music and candlelight and kisses on cheeks. And sometimes they stop CPR after three hours and tell you they’re sorry. Is one way “better” than the other? Is there such a thing as a “good death”. I think there is, but it’s not always possible because death isn’t predictable. It isn’t a script.

Crocus in the Spring

Someone I love very much is dying. Not actively as in it’s imminent. But it’s coming. Everyone knows it’s coming. I love him and his entire family. For the last five years I have written a daily essay, much of it about grief. And when I talk with his wife, I feel woefully inadequate. I haven’t gone through that kind of death. I haven’t had to know it was coming for three years and fight the good fight and be strong and courageous and lose anyway. What do I say to her? How can I best serve her? I had no idea…so I asked. I told her how sorry I was that it was coming to this. I told her how much I love them both. I told her I knew she must be scared. And, I told her I was at a loss as to how best to help her. Then I asked her to tell me exactly what would help her the most right now. She said to pray. Pray for strength and courage for her. That I can do…in spades.

Daffodils in the Ditch

Grief is something that touches all of us. If it hasn’t touched you yet, it will. Mr. FixIt and I were talking about it yesterday. After losing Mr. Virgo, I’ve gone and done the one thing I SWORE I would never, ever do again. I gave my heart away to love again…with wild abandon…knowing full well what it feels like to lose. That is either absolutely crazy or the absolute evidence that God can carry you through anything. I could lose this man tomorrow. Or next week or next year or thirty years from now. Or…I could be the first to go, who knows? I’m glad we don’t know exactly when we will die. It doesn’t pay to dwell on it…but we can’t deny it either. If there is an upside…and that is truly a stretch to even call it that…it’s having the time to say goodbye, to express everything you wanted to say, to make arrangements, to learn how to do the things your partner did, and to give them the gift of your service in their transition. As Ram Dass, says…”We are all just walking each other home.” ❤️

“For here we do not have an enduring city, but we are looking for the city that is to come.” ‭‭Hebrews‬ ‭13:14‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Morning Walkabout

Thu, 01 Mar 2018 02:30:16 -0600

“Rhododendron and the gas light”

What an absolute treat it was to wake up out at the farm yesterday morning. Grandma’s bedroom is right along the creek’s edge and with all the rain we have been having, the sound of the water riffling along was like a lullaby. I slept so well and awoke refreshed and ready to face a busy day.

Mr. FixIt and I did a morning walkabout on the property to check things out. He moved some fallen limbs from the ditch along the road and placed them on the burn pile. The daffodils are up about 8” high already and the grass is greening up nicely. I’ll need to mow before too long to mulch up the leaves that fell over the fall and winter. The rhododendron gets huge buds on them in the fall. They winter over and won’t bloom till late May or early June. They are still beautiful as they awaken from winter with a freshened shine to their leaves. They don’t drop their leaves like so many other plants. They just droop down all winter then stand up with their arms stretched wide in the spring.

I am leaving today for a long camping weekend with the Girl Campers. We’ll be staying in cabins this trip. We try to get together in the late winter when the roads aren’t too bad. We work on whatever craft projects we have going. We make soups to share. These are some of the nicest women I have ever known and I look forward to these trips with great anticipation. I’ll share projects and recipes with you along the way but my writing may be a bit sparse this weekend as I take the time to kick back with my friends and relax.

I do have some prayer requests for some wonderful people who are touched by illness. Please pray for healing, comfort, and God’s will. He knows who the prayers are for. Thank you all for your wonderful prayer support. There are many stars in your crowns. ❤️

“In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans.” ‭‭Romans‬ ‭8:26‬ ‭NIV‬‬

I’ll Pray for You

Sat, 24 Feb 2018 02:30:31 -0600

“I’ll Pray for You”

How many times do we say that? Something happens to someone and we automatically say, “I’ll pray for you!” We hear of a tragedy and we say, “I’ll pray for you!” How many times do we say that…and forget to pray? Or, how about when you’re scrolling through Facebook and someone asks for prayers. We might type “Prayers!” Or “Done!” Or my personal favorite…”???” A furtive “God, please give this woman what she’s asking for.” These are good things, don’t get me wrong. But we can do so much better.

I was working one afternoon after Mr. Virgo died and I noticed one of my coworkers was tearful. She was trying to hide it at her desk and I didn’t want to intrude. I got halfway down the hall when the Holy Spirit whispered…

“Go to her…now.”

“Awwww….c’mon. I’ve got a list of phone calls that would choke a horse! I haven’t even started the pharmacy refills yet. And I need to fax those reports. I’m really busy. Someone will help her. I’ll pray for her tonight when I get home.”

“Go to her…NOW!”

“Oooooooh…you mean…NOW! Sure!”

I turned on my heel and went back to my coworker’s desk. I didn’t say anything. She didn’t look at me, but she knew I was there. Her shoulders slumped and shook with silent sobs. I placed my hand on her shoulder and she immediately leaned into me and cried harder.

I whispered. “I don’t know what you’re going through right now…and I don’t need to know. But if you want, I would love to pray with you right now. Would that be ok?”

She whispered back, “Yes! Yes, please!”

I closed the door to her office, knelt beside her and took her hand. And prayed. I prayed for God’s love to wrap around my friend and comfort her. I prayed for strength and courage in whatever she was facing. I prayed God would use whatever trial she was walking through to bring her closer to him so she would know there was someone who always loved her, always had her back.

It didn’t take long…just a couple minutes. My friend felt so much better afterwards and my work was still there, waiting for me. I felt better, too. Because, I actually did what I said I would do. By praying with my friend, I did more than placate her to make her feel better. I called on the living God…the Highest Power…to come into the situation and work on it.

I once heard of a man in our church that was going through a rough patch. His friend was talking to him on the phone. They were both on the highway but several miles apart. The man asked his friend with the troubles to pull off at the next wide spot. Soon, he caught up and there, along I-70…the man placed his hand on his friend’s shoulder, lifted his other hand to the sky, and prayed. Right there for all to see.

I don’t think you should ever miss the opportunity to pray with somebody. Of course, pray FOR them anytime. But pray WITH them whenever you can. It’s good for everyone. ❤

“For where two or three gather in my name, there am I with them.”” ‭‭Matthew‬ ‭18:20‬ ‭NIV‬‬

An Open Letter to the Shooter

Tue, 20 Feb 2018 02:30:16 -0600

“Writing in TOW-Wanda”

While the world recoils in horror at the havoc you have wrought, I want you to know something. I have tears for the terribly tragic loss of these beautiful people you have cut down who will never have the opportunity to reach their potential. But, believe it or not, I have tears for you, too. While those parents prepare to lay their babies to rest, I wonder if there’s anyone there for you. Because I have a feeling there hasn’t been…probably for a very, very long time.

I don’t know you. We are just beginning to get some details about who you are. I know you were adopted. I know your adopted father died several years ago and your adopted mother died in November. Your teachers tried to help from as far back as sixth grade. I heard the impassioned speech one of your former classmates made. She said they always knew there was something wrong.

I don’t know your whole story. I know you were adopted as an infant. But, I’d be willing to bet any amount of money that you were quiet and shy as a young child. Awkward. You didn’t fit in. You were bullied. You were never picked to be on the team. You were labeled as that weird kid. You didn’t get invited to birthday parties and sleepovers. You were lonely, sad, depressed and isolated, I can just about guarantee that. And you were angry. You lashed out with little self control.

Did you ever have someone to hold you and rock you and tell you how much you were loved? Did you have someone to take you to church and teach you about how much Jesus loves you? You had mental health issues and teachers tried and tried tried to help. But you somehow fell through the cracks.

I know this isn’t going to be the most popular post right now because moms and dads are putting their children in the ground as we speak. People are angry. People are crying out for change and somehow there needs to be change. If you never had access to those guns while you were in such pain, I can pretty much guarantee there would be seventeen families enjoying each other’s company tonight instead of trying to figure out how to keep on living. I don’t know how we could have prevented this tragedy but we as a nation need to figure it out. Now…before it happens again. Because…it WILL happen again.

While I cry for those who are in pain tonight, I shed tears for you as well. I’m so sorry you felt this was your only way to be heard. I’m sorry you didn’t get the help you needed. I’m sorry you didn’t know how to find your way back from the abyss. I’m sorry you lost hope. I know you are broken, and you will never walk free in the sunshine again. You won’t get married and have babies and vacations and grow old in a job you love and look forward to retirement. This is the price you will pay for the choices you made. There’s nothing that can be done about that. But I want you to know something….and this I know beyond a shadow of a doubt.

God loves you.

God STILL loves you. And so do I. You wanna know why? Because the God I know loves ALL of his children…equally. He loves you exactly the same way as he loves me and your mom and the policemen who captured you and your attorney and the judge and all the moms and dads and students of that school in Florida. Who can you think of that’s really, really good? The Pope? Mother Teresa? Billy Graham? Joel Osteen? Our Father in heaven doesn’t love you one bit less than he loves them. God hates the sin…but he loves the sinner.

That doesn’t mean you won’t be judged. You will…by the court of man and the court of God. But you can be forgiven. If you haven’t already, you can ask Jesus into your life and I promise you will never be alone again. You will always have someone who loves you. So, while I pray for those families your actions shattered, I will also be praying for you. I will pray that you seek shelter with God. I will pray that you get the help you need. I pray that you will talk to God every hour, every day, for the rest of your life.

A spirit of forgiveness is a noble thing. I hope those to whom you transgressed will someday find it in their hearts to forgive you. For their own benefit as much as anything. It is the hardest thing to wrap our minds around when some sins seem so much worse than others. God’s heart is broken over this, yet he still loves you. Always has, always will. ❤

“You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly. Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous person, though for a good person someone might possibly dare to die. But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us. Since we have now been justified by his blood, how much more shall we be saved from God’s wrath through him! For if, while we were God’s enemies, we were reconciled to him through the death of his Son, how much more, having been reconciled, shall we be saved through his life! Not only is this so, but we also boast in God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have now received reconciliation.” ‭‭Romans‬ ‭5:6-11‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Love is an Action Word

Mon, 19 Feb 2018 02:30:31 -0600

I’m doing something different today. Usually I write my essay then I go read and find a bible verse that best suits my message of the day. It’s easier that way for me because I look for verses about a certain theme, read and study them, then choose the one that speaks to me. To take a verse and pontificate on it seems a bit foreign after writing for nearly five years the other way. But today…I want to talk to you about Romans 12:6-8 specifically.

As we always do, Mr. FixIt and I stood and held hands as we prayed and sang with the praise team in church yesterday. And, as I always do on the third song, I closed my eyes and prayed. I thanked God for all he has blessed us with. I thanked him for bringing me this fine man to stand with me in church to praise with me. I recited the Prayer of Jabez and asked that he bless me indeed, that he expand my territory, walk with his hand over me, and keep evil far from me that I may not feel pain. Then I asked…”If you have a specific message for me today, please deliver it to me through Pastor Justin.” Amen

We’ve been doing a series entitled “Love Handles”. Not the muffin tops above our jeans from eating too many Oreos, but the action word…LOVE. The love we take out into the world. As Christians, we are called to be different. We aren’t supposed to go out and blend into the world. We should be shining the light of the Holy Spirit out into the world so brightly that people take notice when we walk into a room. Pastor Justin’s first Bible reading yesterday was Romans 12:6-8. It tells us that God, in his infinite grace, has given us all gifts for doing certain things very well…be it prophesy, service, teaching, encouraging, giving, leadership, or kindness. If you have a talent that comes to you easily and you do it very well, that is your gift. That is what you are here to share.

Tears came to my eyes when I listened to the verse being read. “If God has given you the ability to prophesy, speak out with as much faith as God has given you.” Prophesy has several meanings but the one I believe was being directed to me was “preach”. As I have grown in my faith and through this blog, I was led by the Holy Spirit to include scripture in my writing. If you were here when that started, you may remember the conversation I had with God in church when I got that message loud and clear and I argued vehemently against it. I did NOT want to “be that person.” I didn’t want to be “preachy” and turn people off.

There have been instances when I see that people have “unliked” this page when I get too “churchy”. But I have to say, the most interaction this page receives is when my post is truly aligned with my heart, and thus…my faith. When I share my truth, my stories, through the lens of faith…they seem to reach through the miles and touch hearts. I’ve been feeling God nudging me to continue in that direction. That doesn’t mean every post here is going to be a sermon, because it isn’t. What it means is, I’m going to be a little less worried about what people think when I talk about God. It’s really easy to talk about God in a room full of believers. It is not nearly so easy to prophesy to those who don’t believe the same way I do. God has given me a gift of words. It is my duty to put them to the best use I can. I hope you will stick around and see where this goes because I think it’s going to get interesting. ❤

“So we are to use our different gifts in accordance with the grace that God has given us. If our gift is to speak God’s message, we should do it according to the faith that we have; if it is to serve, we should serve; if it is to teach, we should teach; if it is to encourage others, we should do so. Whoever shares with others should do it generously; whoever has authority should work hard; whoever shows kindness to others should do it cheerfully.” ‭‭Romans‬ ‭12:6-8‬ ‭GNB‬‬

The Mountain

Sun, 18 Feb 2018 02:30:26 -0600

“My Hope is in You Alone” - MercyMe

I was writing last night and listening to a channel on Amazon Music called “Relaxing Christian Music”. MercyMe came on and sang “Even If You Don’t”. It’s about those times when your faith is challenged by the hardships you face in life. It made me think of the losses so many are facing. There are seventeen mothers and fathers preparing to lay their children to rest this week. It is easy to ask questions like, “Where was God during all this?” “How can God let bad things happen to innocent people…especially children?”

Life can be really difficult. It can be filled with challenges and unfulfilled dreams. Disappointments. Hurts. Horrors. And…it can be filled with absolutely unmovable mountains.

It’s easier to maintain our faith when the skies are sunny and life is good. When we are knee deep in blessings and goodness rains down on us like a spring shower, we’re good. But…what happens when the darkness comes? How do we maintain our faith when God seems to have abandoned us and is far, far away?

God is capable of all things. I know he can do anything. I’ve seen him do it. When I was a little girl and I sat at my grandma’s knee, I asked her how she knew Jesus was who he said he was. How did she know he really walked on water? She smiled knowingly and patted my hand. “You just have to have faith, pet.” she said in her wise grandma way. It took me most of my life to absorb that…and to believe it.

Faith.

What is faith? The Bible tells us faith is the “substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” The substance of my hope is a loving God who can move mountains. The evidence of things not seen is when he refuses and I still believe in him.

Sometimes God refuses to move the mountain that is in your way because that mountain is in HIS plan…not yours. My biggest mountain was losing Mr. Virgo. God knew that could shake my faith. So he let me see something. He let me see the essence of my husband’s spirit as it left his body. I was forever changed. Not only by the loss itself, but by the certainty that we go someplace else when we die, we are not alone and there is a power far greater than me at work in the world. That power…to me…is God. I will not understand the whys until I get where I am going…but I know the WHO.

This has been a difficult year so far. There has been so much loss in the world. So many unmovable mountains. When I face these times, I find leaning into God and trusting him is the only way to get through it.

He CAN move mountains. And…sometimes he chooses not to. It is the pure essence of faith when you can still believe in God when you have trouble seeing the evidence of his existence.

My HOPE is in him…even when he doesn’t answer.

MercyMe - Even If You Don’t https://youtu.be/B6fA35Ved-Y

“Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” ‭‭Hebrews‬ ‭11:1‬ ‭KJV‬‬

Another Horror Story

Thu, 15 Feb 2018 02:30:01 -0600

(*Edited: I must admit, I took the number 18 and ran with is as it was the lead in a number of online stories. That number was promoted by a group intending to imply there had been 18 mass shootings in schools during the first 7 weeks of 2018. This, of course, is not true. There have been 18 incidents where guns have been used on school grounds, including shots fired through windows and suicides both in and on school grounds…one at a former school. Ok, statistics are what they are and I know they can be manipulated for various purposes. My point remains the same. If there had been ONE school shooting, that is one too many. Thank you, Nancy, for bringing that to my attention.)

Eighteen. Eighteen school shootings this year…and it’s only the 7th week of 2018. How many more? How many more mothers and fathers have to lay their children to rest when all they did was send them off to school to learn? How many more children have to be permanently changed…traumatized by sights and sounds young children should never hear? How many more teachers and administrators have to come up with answers to those left behind and find some way to keep teaching and helping? How many more???

I walked into the grade school to do my volunteer reading shift the day of Columbine. I sat in the school library and tried to distract a room full of elementary school students away from the TV relaying a live broadcast of children running for cover. I held my youngest that night and tried to explain to her about bad people and why she shouldn’t be scared to go to school the next day. All while trying to remain calm enough to talk to her without losing my sh*t.

I cannot tell you show scared I am of this. My older daughter is a high school special needs teacher. My two grandchildren are in grade and middle school…all in a suburb of Denver. I worry every single day that something like this might happen to them. I can’t imagine the horror these families, staff, and fellow students are going through. I have no words.

What is the answer? How do we keep this from happening over and over and over? There are SO many factors at play here. The issue of gun control is a hot topic. I believe in our right to bear arms. I have a couple of guns for protection and have taken classes for proficiency. I have a conceal carry permit. I am a responsible gun owner. I keep them locked up and away when my grandchildren are around. Still, I think there has to be some way to make it more difficult for citizens to get guns and stock up on enough guns and ammo to armor the 101st Airborne. The debate is heated and there’s no easy answer that will satisfy everyone.

What about video games? Have you seen some of these these things? OMGosh! They are horrific! They are realistic depictions of murder and mayhem on a grand scale, putting you “in the driver’s seat”, so to speak. You can gun down people with all the blood and gore that accompanies such an activity without leaving the comfort of your recliner. Children’s minds are not fully developed. When they are subjected to such violence with no repercussions, is it such a difficult thing to think some of them who aren’t in touch with reality may seek the thrill in real time?

How about parenting? Ever since Dr. Spock told us spanking little Johnny would damage his psyche, we have been raising little prima donnas who think the world owes them something simply because they showed up. These are the generations that gives everyone a trophy. Don’t get me wrong…I am not a proponent of child abuse. There is no justification for bullying. But, too many parents plug their kids into an electronic baby sitter in the form of a smart phone or an iPad then wonder why they aren’t connecting to their fellow human beings in meaningful ways.

What about God? Does he care? Is he listening? Have we used his name in vain so much that he’s tone deaf? Have we said, “We don’t need God in our business” one too many times? I imagine God is weeping today for the unimaginable loss and the complete evil of such things as school shootings.

I don’t have the answers. I wish I did. I do know this…the only way out of this is through love, light, prayer, thoughtful discussion, responsible legislation, and courage to stand up to those who allow guns to get into the hands of madmen. Something has to be done…and soon…before we lose one more innocent. My heart is breaking. No one should lay their babies in the ground for this.

Heavenly Father, I come to you today with thanksgiving for your steadfast love for us, your children. I ask you to wrap your loving arms around the families struck down by the violence in our schools…not just this year, but in all years. Please, Lord…give our parents the courage to do what they must in laying their children to rest. Give our children kind and loving hearts and a conscience so that such unspeakable horrors are never considered a valid way to reconcile differences. Give our teachers the strength and courage to face each new day when they are faced with seemingly insurmountable challenges. Give our leaders the wisdom and courage to stand up and do what’s right to protect our children. Lord, we know you ultimately win this battle against evil. Please walk with your hand over us and keep evil far from us. Amen ?

For a view on the NRA proposal to arm teachers: https://www.facebook.com/UTLAnow/videos/1956126557742129/

““I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”” ‭‭John‬ ‭16:33‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Word Power

Mon, 12 Feb 2018 02:30:29 -0600

Word Power

When I was a teenager, my mother always told me my mouth would get me in trouble. I’ve spent a lifetime speaking when I should have remained silent. I say the wrong things at the wrong times. I let my anger lead my speech far, far too often. I am a work in progress. I know what I am supposed to do. We all do, right? But even God knew we could never tame our tongues…not completely.

Speech has such power. We can build up. We can tear down. Pastor Justin spoke of this power in church yesterday in a sermon entitled “Speech Therapy”. A clever use of the term. We need speech therapy. Not to pronounce the words, but to help us choose wisely. Our pastor had cutouts to demonstrate those we meet on a daily basis. The one who talks “crap” all the time. The one who whines and cries about everything. The vampire who sucks the life out of you. The angry yelper who shouts and charges about like a bull in a china shop. He also used some popular iconic figures like Dr. Phil, Joel Osteen, and Donald Trump to illustrate the power of words.

Dr. Phil is a good guy, offers sound advice, but not the one to look to for divine direction. Joel Osteen…the one who builds you up, always smiling, always positive. We can use more people in the world like Dr. Phil and Joel Osteen…they build up.

When he held up President Trump, I was a little worried where that might go. I’ve listened to politics being preached from the pulpit and I don’t like it. I loved the direction Pastor Justin took it, though. Love him. Hate him. There’s both of you out there. That’s not what this is about. What this is about is the power of the word. And using words to divide and cause conflict is counterproductive. We cannot control another person, but we can pray for them. I pray for our President to use discretion when he chooses words. I pray he decides to leave Twitter alone. I pray for his wisdom and discernment and good judgement. I have my opinions and beliefs about him but they are personal. I pray God blesses his tongue.

Praying for wisdom in our leaders and peace for our world is one thing I can do every day. Because my words have power. And if I speak with angry rhetoric, I am giving the enemy a foothold in my world. The enemy only has the power I give him. Using my words to express my desires to my legislators is another thing I can do. So, I keep trying my best. I try to watch my words and choose them carefully. I try not to cuss like a sailor but fail more than I like. Like I said, I’m a work in progress. I’m human. ❤️

“but no human being can tame the tongue. It is a restless evil, full of deadly poison. With the tongue we praise our Lord and Father, and with it we curse human beings, who have been made in God’s likeness. Out of the same mouth come praise and cursing. My brothers and sisters, this should not be. Can both fresh water and salt water flow from the same spring?” ‭‭James‬ ‭3:8-11‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Skeletons in the Closet

Sun, 04 Feb 2018 02:30:45 -0600

Exploring genealogy can lead to some real surprises. Family secrets like the baby “born” to the woman in her sixties with a 16 year old daughter. To save face, the grandparents registered the birth as their own instead of their unwed daughter, even though the daughter continued to raise that little girl plus two more. Or how about the man who stole a pig, was exonerated, then got in a fight with the sheriff over something completely different and killed him in a barroom brawl. There’s suicides, like my great great uncle who had horrible lifelong pain from arthritis or one of Mr. FixIt’s distant relatives who took arsenic. You never know what you might find when you delve into the past.

When I was a little girl, I had a special aunt. She lifted me up and made me feel good about myself. I remember her stooping down to tell me how beautiful I looked in periwinkle blue. It made my heart sing and I absolutely adored her. I grew up emulating her every move, style, thought. She was married to my dad’s brother and she did NOT like that side of the family. Unfortunately, she instilled that in me and I never really had much of a relationship with them. But I was one of her “special ones”. We talked for hours…HOURS. I basked in her attention.

Then, somewhere along the line…there was a rift. I wasn’t allowed to come see her anymore. I had done something my uncle didn’t approve of and that was that. It was easier to let me go than to deal with his anger. I didn’t talk with her for a long time. Then Mr. Virgo died. I just had to talk to her…just one more time. I called and left a message. And told her I would try her only once more the following afternoon. When I called back, she picked up on the first ring. It was like old times. I collapsed into my beloved aunt’s love and she comforted me in my loss. She listened to me cry. We talked for two hours and when it came time to ring off, I sensed this was the last time I would ever talk with her. I wanted to make it count.

I told her to listen to me. I told her I knew it wasn’t her turning me away because she didn’t love me. I knew the uncomfortable situation she was in. It was a different time. Women were more dependent…for a number of reasons. She couldn’t walk away. I understood that. I told her I loved her very much, I knew I was still one of her “special ones”, and I didn’t blame her. She cried. She thanked me for understanding. I told her goodbye. That was five years ago.

I’m telling you…I was a late bloomer. I didn’t learn the lessons of your 20’s till I was in my 60’s. When an impressionable young girl is under the spell of a powerful mother figure, real personal growth isn’t possible until that influence is removed. In rapid succession, I lost my grandma, I lost a marriage in which I had always deferred to my husband, one of my best friends moved away, I lost my mom, my aunt, and Mr. Virgo…all in a period of a few short years. I was set adrift. I didn’t know how to be…me. It was bad enough that I lost my sweet husband and was grieving and had to learn how to be without him. But those people who should have been there to help me learn how to be a widow…weren’t. As a late bloomer, I had a crash course in Adulting 101. It was incredibly rough.

Then something wonderful happened. OK, it was awful…I lost my dad. I was never close to him, but it was loss just the same. And right there in the basement of the church when we gathered to eat after the funeral, the miracle happened. Those family members on my dad’s side that I had shunned out of deference to my aunt, opened their arms and drew me in. They loved on me. They gave me their phone numbers. They planned a family picnic. I saw them…really SAW them as the beautiful people they are and I realized in that moment how much I had lost by being led astray. All those years, I thought I couldn’t love them both…my aunt AND my dad’s family. What a waste.

Last night, I was diving into an hour or so of genealogy research before I started writing. I don’t know if you are familiar with ancestry.com. When there are new hints for a family member in your tree, a little leaf grows out of the upper right corner of their picture. It has been five years since I’ve signed into Ancestry to do a little snooping around. OMGosh! It looked like a forest in there! Leaves everywhere. I started with my parents and their siblings. I opened my uncle’s hint. A picture of his gravestone. He had died in 2016! I called my cousins and they hadn’t heard a thing. I googled. Nothing. I searched the newspaper archive. No obituary. Nothing.

I sat back and let my mind wander and absorb the news. My thoughts swirled round till they started to settle into a reality. All this time, I had let myself believe that once this man was gone, my aunt could talk to me freely again. I could have that relationship back that I had cherished. But, it’s been two years. If she was going to call me…she would have by now. That’s too…half empty to me. Maybe she lost my contact information in the five years since we last talked. Maybe she has dementia and can’t call me. Or, maybe it was her. Maybe SHE was the one who didn’t like what I had done and cut me off.

I spent about 15 minutes feeling really sad that I would never have that special relationship again. Then I realized I have gained SO much since things changed. I learned how to think for myself. I gained a whole family of cousins whom I love very much. Life is all about change. It isn’t always easy to adapt to change. However…adapt or stay trapped. It always comes back to choices. I’m special now because GOD says I’m special…I say I’m special…Mr. FixIt and my family says I’m special. And I still look beautiful in periwinkle blue. ❤️

“But after you have suffered for a little while, the God of all grace, who calls you to share his eternal glory in union with Christ, will himself perfect you and give you firmness, strength, and a sure foundation. To him be the power for ever! Amen.” ‭‭1 Peter‬ ‭5:10-11‬ ‭GNBDC

The Is The Day The Lord Hath Made

Sun, 28 Jan 2018 02:30:20 -0600

Praise

Let us celebrate and be GLAD in it! It is so easy to celebrate and be glad in the day when all is right in your world, isn’t it? I mean, we want God’s blessings, right? We are happy in our blessings and we (hopefully) thank God for providing for us. It’s a different story when things aren’t going well. It is SO hard to celebrate and be glad when your world is falling apart. I don’t think God is asking you to go out in the streets and celebrate with singing and dancing if you are sincerely in the throes of pain. We can still celebrate the fact we have a loving Father who is going to use our pain for good in some way. He is working in the background, far beyond our understanding, twisting and turning events to bring you favor. We can still be glad in the day he has made, even if we can’t drag ourselves out of bed to enjoy it. I’ve been there. I know what mattress surfing is like. And I still rejoiced that I had someone who loved me more than I could ever imagine.

Bringing joy into the world isn’t always easy, but the more you try, the more you succeed, and the more you succeed, the more joy you have to give. It is truly the gift that keeps on giving. When I see joy in someone, I stop them and recognize it in them. We are here to love and encourage one another. When you let someone know that you SEE their efforts, your encouragement causes them to grow and expand. It’s an amazing gift you give them…and give yourself.

I ran across this video last night and I just had to share with you. Here’s a little girl with more joy than she can possibly contain. Here’s a future worship leader! A future teacher! A future politician! A future doctor! She has the whole world ahead of her and plenty of joy to share. This is the day the Lord hath made…let us rejoice and be glad in it! Go out there and make it a great day today!!! ❤️

youtu.be/3QivliBtp…

“This is the day which the Lord hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it.” ‭‭Psalms‬ ‭118:24‬ ‭KJV‬‬

Catching Up

Fri, 19 Jan 2018 02:30:51 -0600

One of the best ways to catch up with paperwork is to have peaceful surroundings. Mr. FixIt had a day of errands to do. I think he kinda wanted me to tag along with him yesterday, but I know us well…I would have ended up coming in at 9:30 last night and none of this work would have gotten done.

As soon as he left (with a big hug and kiss) I turned on praise music and cranked it up. I always need a little extra dose of Jesus when I am heading into a formidable task. Wading through many bags and boxes of papers and sorting them into some sort of organization that allows me to actually put my finger on things was the order of the day. With praise, and good coffee and French Truffles…I waded in with both feet and started making the first cuts. What was trash. What needed to be kept in which pile. I really, really hate paperwork! “Jesus is calling…” I can do this. “Do you thirst for a drink from the well…” I can do this. “The Father’s arms are open wide…” Oh, yes…I can definitely do this! “Bring your sorrows and trade them for joy…” YES…let’s DO this!!!

As I often do, I talk out loud to Jesus when I’m working. The conversation is never one-sided. He always speaks to me through the Holy Spirit and tells me everything I need to hear. First, he smacks my hand a little…”Keep up with this stuff better.” He chides gently. “You know what an ordeal it is when you put it off till the end of the year. It seems overwhelming. If it’s difficult to slog through…remember to talk with me while you’re working. It makes the time pass faster. And, I can help. I can help you put things into perspective. I can help you find lost papers. I can help you remember who you need to talk to about this and that. I can help you make important decisions. Just remember to include me…even in the most mundane of your daily activities.”

Then He goes on with his daily teaching. “Thank your Father for the gifts you receive. See all these papers? They are all articles of provision. That bank account? I gave you that gift to provide for your every need. Respect that. Balance every month…not because it’s a drudge, but because it’s an honor to see the abundance you have been provided with. The same goes for that insurance policy you have been complaining about because the price went up. Be grateful you HAVE insurance…and so far, you haven’t run out of money to pay for it. What about that accident last February? I know you have been dreading searching for all the papers you need to have in order to finish out that claim. Yes, that’s a pain…but, I made sure you weren’t terribly injured. And you received a much newer truck when yours was totaled. It was “a miracle” when you got that check that just almost covered the new truck, wasn’t it? It was Me…I made sure you have a safe, affordable vehicle. A little gratitude goes a long way, dear one.”

What blessings I have. I have a Father that provides for me. I have a loving family that supports and loves me. I have this tremendous man in my life who loves me and shares his home with me as if it has always been mine…he’s just been waiting for me to come along. I have my health. I have the farm. I have TOW-Wanda. I have a retirement. I have Social Security and health insurance and soon, I’ll have Medicare…that carrot at the end of the race that will help provide for me in my golden years. I have a house…TWO houses…THREE if you count TOW-Wanda…to shelter me from the storms of life. I have food and clean water and clothes. I am wealthy….beyond my wildest dreams. I am LOVED. What a lovely way to look at the mundane, dreary chore of sorting through paperwork. What a lovely way to look at the world. Thank you, God! “You’re a good, good Father…it’s who you are, it’s who you are…” ❤️

“And my God will meet all your needs according to the riches of his glory in Christ Jesus.” ‭‭Philippians‬ ‭4:19‬ ‭NIV‬‬

On Being Loved

Tue, 16 Jan 2018 02:30:37 -0600

Mr. FixIt and I have developed this little routine the last few months. We have a nice dinner and clear up the dishes. We sit together for a while and talk or maybe watch a movie or an episode of Big Bang or MASH. When it’s time for a bedtime snack, I take mine into the bedroom at the far end of the house and write while my sweetie watches a ball game or the news and weather. It works out great and we both have that little bit of alone time everyone needs in a relationship. I’ve taken to listening to nature sounds on Amazon Music as I write so quite often, in my head, there’s a thunderstorm raging or ocean waves are gently lapping at the shore or birds are singing in a tropical rainforest. It’s so soothing and easy to write to.

My guy bowls on a couple of leagues and has for over thirty years. Bowling offered him the opportunity to socialize with fun people. He is gregarious, and bowling has been a great outlet for him. The other night he stopped at the store on the way home. He always calls me before he heads home because no matter where we are staying…his house or mine…it is a good forty minutes from town. He asks if I need anything. Usually, I don’t. He called me from the driveway the other night and asked me to open the door. He’s not supposed to carry anything in his bad hand yet. When I greeted him at the door, he handed me the groceries and I ducked in the kitchen with them. It was SO cold out there…I wanted away from the door as fast as I could. When I turned around to hug him, he handed me this bouquet of yellow roses.

I love yellow roses. I love great big bouquets of mixed flowers but all in white. I love a live orchid. Mr. Virgo used to bring me flowers. And now…I have this sweet love…this good, good man. And HE brings me flowers, too. Guys like Mr. Virgo and Mr. FixIt are a rare breed. My sweetheart told me the other day he wished we had started dating in high school so we could have had our whole lives together. I understand that thinking, and it’s sweet…really. But the thing is, we are the people we are right now simply BECAUSE of the life experiences we have been through. There is a really big chance we wouldn’t have gotten along in our early years. All of our experiences have been opportunities for personal growth. We came together when we did because it was GOD’S timing…not ours.

When we can move over and get out of the way, God does extraordinary things in our lives. “Let go and let God” isn’t just a pithy saying or a tired cliche from an AA meeting. It is straight outta the instruction manual for life…the Bible. Oh, we are such proud creatures. We want to have control. We want to steer the boat and make it go where WE want it. At any given moment, there is a preordained course designed specifically for us. God knows your name. He has plans to prosper you. God loves you more than anyone in the world. He loves you more than you can fathom. You can make it SO much easier if you put God in the driver’s seat. The easiest way to do that is ask. Just ask Him…first thing in the morning. “Where are you going to take me today, Lord?” Then get out of the way. Oh, my…could it really be that easy??? ❤️

“Commit to the Lord whatever you do, and he will establish your plans.” ‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭16:3‬ ‭NIV‬‬

“The Umbrella Incident” or “How to Feed Your Man”

Sat, 13 Jan 2018 02:30:33 -0600

“Winter Flooding in West Virginia” by Ginny McKinney

It all started innocently enough. It was going to rain and I was heading to town soon. As I jumped in the shower, I called out to Mr. FixIt.

“Honey…would you mind grabbing my umbrella out of the truck?”

When I got dressed and was heading out the door, I looked around. My umbrella wasn’t there. I asked if he had gotten it for me and Mr. FixIt said no. There was an umbrella there by the door. Now, it was a perfectly good umbrella. One that, you know, keeps rain off of you. But I wanted MY umbrella and I felt Mr. FixIt had made a decision for me. I didn’t like it.

Silly…that was just plain silly of me. But, I am my mother’s daughter and stubborn is my middle name. I hopped out the door and into the rain…sans umbrella.

“I’ll show YOU!” I thought as I made a mad dash for the truck. “I don’t need your stinky old boy umbrella!”

Ridiculous. I got wet because I got my nose out of joint. And why? Because, somewhere in the far recesses of my mind I equated “Please get my umbrella.” with “Please tell me you love me.” That is old school thinking right there…something I thought I left behind like…two relationships ago.

It’s been a couple of weeks now. And ever since, I’ve been criticizing Mr. FixIt’s every move. Mostly because he’s a man and he had surgery and he’s SUPPOSED to be taking care of that hand so it will heal properly and he’s as stubborn as me and he does things his way and….did I say he was stubborn? I have spent the better part of two weeks with “Don’t pick that up!” And “Here…let ME do it!” I think there were eye-rolls involved. All of this was done in an effort to punish him for a perceived slight that was nothing more than something made up in my head. Some unpacked baggage from seasons past that has absolutely nothing to do with him.

Then…the rain started.

It rained…hard. Yesterday morning I awoke to the sounds of the carpet cleaner sucking water up from the rug downstairs. The basement flooded! I jumped up and ran downstairs. And there was my man…emptying one gallon containers of dirty water into the sink…carrying them with two hands, one of which he isn’t supposed to lift anything heavier than popcorn.

“Breathe…breathe…don’t scold him. He’s not a child.” My inner voice reasoned with me.

“Did you plug in the sump pump?” I asked.

“No.” Shoulders slumped. Voice dejected.

“Are you kidding me?” I asked.

Shoulders slumped more. “Stupid. It was stupid.”

I took the carpet cleaner and started that part myself so he wouldn’t have to carry the bucket to the sink. Mr. FixIt went about sweeping up water in the room without carpet. He ran the vacuum. We didn’t talk much. Then I sent him off on an errand to town.

After he left, I went upstairs and fixed myself a cup of coffee. I sipped it as I ran the carpet cleaner back and forth over the soggy carpet. And I fumed. Then I could see the dejected slump of my sweetheart’s shoulders and my heart softened.

“Lord,” I said out loud. “I haven’t been loving this wonderful man you gave me the way I should. I haven’t been loving him the way you love me. And all because he didn’t get my umbrella for me!”

I sucked up more water, emptied the bucket, and began again.

“Lord, please give me the heart of a cheerful servant. Let me see all of his good qualities and none of the annoying traits that make us human. Can you do that for me, please?” I asked with sincere earnestness in my voice.

Suddenly, the old hymn “Farther Along” started up in my mind and I began to sing out loud as I vacuumed up bucket after bucket of water.

“Tempted and tried we’re oft made to wonder Why it should be thus all the day long While there are others living about us Never molested though in the wrong.

Farther along we’ll know all about it Farther along well understand why Cheer up my brother, live in the sunshine We’ll understand it all by and by.

When death has come and taken our loved ones It leaves our home so lonely and drear Then do we wonder why others prosper Living so wicked year after year.

When we see Jesus coming in glory When he comes down from his home in the sky Then we shall meet him in that bright mansion We’ll understand it all by and by.

Farther along we’ll know all about it Farther along we’ll understand why Cheer up my brother, live in the sunshine We’ll understand it all by and by.

Yes, we’ll understand it…all by and by.”

I sang and sang and in two verses…maybe three…something happened. Any negative thoughts I had been having dissolved. My heart was soft and open. God had indeed given me the heart of a cheerful servant, just as I had asked.

I went on and worked, happily singing and emptying bucket after bucket of dirty flood water. I worked for about three hours when Mr. FixIt walked in carrying breakfast for me. I went upstairs and gave him a great big hug and an even bigger smile. I thanked him profusely for bringing me a warm breakfast. I hadn’t taken time to eat. I patted the seat beside me. He shook his head and said no…he needed to get back to it.

“Please?” I begged. “Just for a minute.”

He smiled and sat down.

“Sweetheart, listen…I know you feel stupid for not plugging in the sump pump. But, I could have thought of it, too. And I didn’t. We unplugged it to put up the snowman for Christmas and just forgot. We make mistakes…it happens. It wasn’t your fault.” I put my hand on his knee and looked at him intently. I wanted to make sure he heard me.

Mr. FixIt turned those baby blues to mine and gave me his sweetest smile. And, I felt I’d made it right. This is how you feed a man. You feed his spirit. You feed his soul. You breathe life into him. When you start looking for the bad in your love…that’s all you will see. I really, REALLY don’t want to go there. Do I get it right all the time? Oh, heck no! I’m human, too. I stumble and forget and let my lower self talk WAY too often. But sometimes I get it right. Sometimes I remember to ask God for help. Yesterday was one of those days. ❤️

“Let us then approach God’s throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.” ‭‭Hebrews‬ ‭4:16‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Here Comes the Rain

Fri, 12 Jan 2018 02:30:57 -0600

“Belpre Bridge” by Ginny McKinney

Yesterday morning was sunny and warm. By warm, I mean 47. As in…above freezing! And by afternoon it was 72 degrees according to the thermometer on my truck. swoon I haven’t felt this warm since sometime back in September. It was downright balmy out there!

Mr. FixIt and I had errands to run yesterday and he asked me mid-day what I’d like for lunch. My go to favorite? The Southwest Grilled Chicken Salad with Fat Free Honey Mustard Dressing from Chik-fil-A! And my go to favorite place to eat it? Point Park in Parkersburg. I wanted to watch the ice floes out on the Ohio River. Yesterday, there were three Blue Herons and a bunch of Seagulls sitting out on the ice. I believe two gents were trying to woo the same lady heron because one kept shooing off the interloper. Said lady was having none of it and kept flying away from Mr. Romance.

It had just started raining when we parked in our favorite spot. We really wanted to see a tug pushing barges through the ice but unfortunately, none came along. As an update, Mr. FixIt started working with a hand therapist yesterday. He’s doing really well. He did strain it a little last Sunday night when he pushed up off the floor, but it’s much better now. The therapist made a custom splint for his wrist and thumb that is much sturdier than the one he was given at the surgeon’s office and I am relieved. I was very worried he would slip on the ice and snow last week and really do some damage. We sure don’t want to have to go through this again!

One of my friends and his wife lost their faithful companion, Blue, yesterday. When I was so lonely and hurting, so many of my readers encouraged me to adopt a dog, but this is exactly why I couldn’t. I simply couldn’t put myself through that loss. Mr. Virgo and I put our seventeen-year-old Yorkie-Maltese mix down just three months before Mr. Virgo himself died suddenly. We had had Cricket cremated and were going to spread her ashes in the flower garden in the spring. When Mr. Virgo died, I just put that little box of ashes in the casket with him and swore I’d never have another dog. My heart aches for those who lose their beloved fur babies.

With the nature of grief being so unpredictable, sometimes you literally feel as though you are just one crisis away from losing it entirely. I cannot tell you how many times I have been in the throes of grief, and the accompanying anxiety, and I have felt like I just couldn’t handle one more thing. As a matter of fact, the FEAR of having one more thing happen actually escalated everything. I have an arsenal of coping strategies at my disposal, but sometimes the slope is too steep and the boulder gains too much momentum too fast. There were so many nights when it all got away from me and all I could do was cling to God and pray for morning. If I can get a hold of the wave early enough, the best thing I can do is get out of the situation I’m in. It usually hits me when I’m in bed, so I get up and do something…scrub the kitchen floor, clean out the fridge, run the vacuum.

Another thing that will stop things from spinning out of control for me is writing. There have been countless times I’ve sat down to write my post while I’m feeling the waves of grief and anxiety come over me. As I write, I can literally feel the stress, fear, and anxiety fade…sometimes melting away entirely. I can’t stress enough how much writing can help you through grief. You don’t have to have a blog. Get a journal and write in it every night. I not only wrote this blog, but I filled several personal journals through the first two or three years after Mr. Virgo died. Writing saved me. TOW-Wanda saved me. God saved me. ❤️

““This is what the Lord, the God of Israel, says: ‘Write in a book all the words I have spoken to you.” ‭‭Jeremiah‬ ‭30:2‬ ‭NIV‬‬

The Bent Reed

Thu, 11 Jan 2018 02:30:39 -0600

“The Bent Reed” by Ginny McKinney

A lot of people are struggling right now. I don’t know what it is about January. Sure, there’s the let down after the holidays. There’s the long, dark nights. There’s the bitterly cold, grey days. But there’s more than that. There’s a lot of loss.

I have friends who are dealing with very serious health issues…either of their own or members of their immediate family. I get prayer requests daily…from multiple people. Disasters, accidents, illness, death. Add this on top of the usual slump of January and it can send you down in a spiral in a hurry.

I was reminded of this beautiful verse the other day. I wish I would have had it written down so I could have carried it with me in those first long dark winter months without Mr. Virgo. I know it would have helped. As with all things, it has come to me now…when it means the most. When I need it the most. When I need to share it. God always provides.

My mom died after a brief illness of five days in January 2014. My cousin’s husband a year later at 50. My sweet Uncle Bob the next January. January is just not a good month…for me and for a lot of other people.

I bought a new computer the other day. When I was setting it up this week, I noticed a bunch of photos had come down out of the cloud. I hadn’t seen them in a long time, since my computer has been on the fritz for a while. I was scrolling through when my screen was filled with…Mr. Virgo…in his casket. A friend took the picture for me. At first, I thought it was macabre. Then I realized I needed to have that. For a long time it was the only thing that would allow me to cry. I needed to get that out. But somewhere along the line, the pictures from the funeral home made their way up into the cloud and I didn’t see them again. Till this week. It was like getting sucker punched when that popped up, filling my screen with a vision so painful you can feel it in your bones.

Yes, a lot of people are struggling. Debbie’s husband Toby is in the hospital. Sue’s friend had a biopsy today. Lynn’s family is struggling. Diane lost both her parents and her father-in-law in Januarys along the way and her best friend just lost his dad. The world seems to be reeling under forces whipping it into a frenzy. So, again…I am reminded of this verse.

God will not break a bent reed. He will not snuff out a smoldering flame. When you are at your weakest point, God is still strong. The same God that gave his Son. The same God that walked on water and rose the dead and healed blind men. The same God that breathed life into this world lives today. And He knocks. And He waits. He is a patient, polite God. He will not impose himself. He will not barge in on you. He waits for you to open the door. Opening that door is what has made it possible for me to keep breathing, to keep walking forward through every storm…through every season. I was only bent. ❤️

“A bruised reed he will not break, and a smoldering wick he will not snuff out…” ‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭42:3‬ ‭NIV

Epiphany

Sun, 07 Jan 2018 02:30:01 -0600

Epiphany

Epiphany; noun: plural noun: epiphanies

A) the manifestation of Christ to the Gentiles as represented by the Magi (Matthew 2:1–12).

B) the festival commemorating the Epiphany on January 6.

C) a manifestation of a divine or supernatural being.

D) a moment of sudden revelation or insight.

Yesterday was Epiphany. Traditionally, it marks the end of the Christmas Season. The day the Three Wise Men visited the baby Jesus and bestowed their gifts to Him.

Epiphany also means a sudden revelation, insight, and/or appearance of a supernatural being. Eighteen years ago, I experienced epiphany on many, many levels. I was seven years into a devastating depression…one I could see no way out of. I was over prescribed medications by a medical community that my husband at the time belonged to. I was a doctor’s wife. I had WAY too ready access to medications I had no business being on because a referral pattern is a terrible thing to waste. Doctors hate to take care of other doctor’s family. It puts a lot of pressure on them to go above and beyond…to be exemplary…to have a positive outcome, no matter what. Unfortunately for me, that meant seven years of medications that made me a zombie. Add a psychiatrist who told me at every visit, that this was just the way I was…I would need to take these medicines every day for the rest of my life…that I had a chemical imbalance in my brain. I lost my 40’s…literally. My marriage was irreparably damaged. December of 1999 found me struggling. My 20th Anniversary came and my husband told me he wasn’t in love with me anymore. I was devastated. I couldn’t see how I could possibly live without him. I circled the drain and on January 6, 2000…I overdosed on two full bottles of pills and I very easily could have died.

As they worked on me in the emergency room…these doctors and nurses with whom my husband and I socialized…I “faded”. My vision became a tunnel. My hearing damped down till it sounded like I had tin cans over my ears. I didn’t see a great white light like some talk about when they have a near-death experience. I’ve drawn it here, as close as I can. It was this incredibly beautiful disc of cobalt blue with golden rays of light radiating from it all around like an eclipse. It was ethereal and sparkly and incredibly peaceful.

As I stood in this immense ocean of blue light, my hearing left me and there was no sound. Dead air. Nothing. And suddenly, my grandma’s voice cut through the silence and straight into my left ear, as if she were standing beside me and bent down to speak directly to me. She shouted at me!

“Young lady…you get back down there right now! You have work to do!!!”

Immediately, my eyes flew open wide and I was in the ER, lying on a gurney, the overhead light shining in my eyes. I squinted at the glare and the sudden rush of noise. I rolled up on my side and threw up violently. After a while, I turned on my back. A nurse was leaning over me…a look of sincere concern on her face. I burst into tears when I realized what had happened. I kept crying, “I’m so ashamed, I’m so ashamed, I’m so ashamed.” She wrapped her arms around me and pulled me close to her and whispered in my ear, “You have nothing to be ashamed of. You’ve been sick. You’re going to be ok.”

I was at the bottom of the barrel in that moment and I had to begin a very long climb back. It took a great deal of intense therapy to convince me the other doctor was wrong and I really didn’t have a chemical imbalance in my brain. It took a full three years to wean off the medications he had me on. My marriage was over. I nearly lost my relationship with my kids. It took a huge amount of work, strength, and determination to rebuild my life.

I think that experience actually gave me tools to help me cope with losing Mr. Virgo years later. I survived that horrible ordeal. I surely could survive this one. I’ll survive the next. It’s fitting that the overdose occurred on Epiphany. The symbolic ending. The supernatural appearance of my grandma’s disembodied voice…nine months after her death. The moment of sudden revelation and insight that I had gone as far away from where God wanted me to be as I could possibly go.

I look back on those years with a sadness that I lost so much. I look back on that night with the absolute conviction that God sent the one person I would listen to…my grandma. I believe with all my heart that God saved me that night because He wasn’t done with me. He still had work for me to do. And, I also believe I could not have done any of this work if I had never had those seven years of walking through hell…if I had never had that devastating overdose…if I had not nearly lost everything.

Those of you who have been following me for a long time have probably heard this story before because I consider January 6th my “Re-Birth Day” in a literal sense. My second chance. My do-over. And for those of you new enough that you haven’t heard it yet, it might give you a sense of where I’ve been, even before the devastating loss of Mr. Virgo. We all have struggles in life. And, so far, I’ve survived all of them 100% of the time. For a long time, I was embarrassed by this story. Depression. Anxiety. Drugs. Dysfunction. Once I became a Christian, I realized God can use me to help others in similar circumstances. If I shine His Light into every dark corner of my life and show that Light to you, then I am doing what He put me on this earth to do. I’m at peace with that part of my life now. It doesn’t embarrass me. I am not ashamed. I am strengthened by a God that wouldn’t let ME decide it was time to go. I am immensely grateful for the opportunities I’ve been given…a chance to rebuild broken relationships…a chance at great love, not just once, but twice. I’ve lost much…but I’ve gained so much more. ❤️

““Arise, shine, for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord rises upon you.” ‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭60:1‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Greater is the One

Sat, 06 Jan 2018 02:30:38 -0600

The nature of my writing has grown with the changes I have gone through on my grief journey. Early on, it was so incredibly painful to even try to put words together to express my pain. I understood for the first time how God could hear our prayers when all we can manage are groans. Once the words started, it was like releasing a torrent. My pain literally fell onto the pages and it was emotionally exhausting…for me, and for you as well. The release was cathartic. The more I let it go, the more my heart healed.

Not everyone has a blog where they can release the pent up pain, anger, frustration, confusion that comes with grief. I am blessed with this venue and I don’t take any of you for granted. Your feedback and support has been so incredibly healing for me. I am blessed with family and friends who were supportive during the early months of my grief. The day Mr. Virgo died and I called my daughters, they dropped what they were doing and jumped in their cars to begin the long drive to be with me. They stayed by my side. They answered the phone for me. They made important calls. They took me everywhere I needed to go. Daughter #1 slept with me every night with her arm across my chest to protect me, to calm me, to reassure me I was not alone.

People gathered and surrounded me with love and support and food. My daughters and I bought every funny DVD we could find and tried to find someplace to land besides terror and pain. My friends held me in silence…the same friends who dressed me for my wedding and placed the flowers all around. Here they were…nearly six years to the day…doing the only thing they could do. After we lay Mr. Virgo in the ground, we gathered at our home…my home. I went straight to the humidor and got the expensive cigar he was saving for golf in the summer. I grabbed the bottle of Courvoisier I had used for Mr. Virgo’s favorite fruitcake. And I gathered the men…and my younger daughter. She was particularly close to her stepdad. We went to the front porch and smoked the cigar, and passed the bottle around till it was gone. We told manly stories of golf and travel, hotels and restaurants…all things Mr. Virgo.

After everyone left, the family gathered me up and took me to a restaurant to entice me to eat. I hadn’t had much of anything but coffee for days. It was the day before St. Patrick’s Day…a fine day to be buried, Mr. Virgo would have said. My daughters needed to get back to Denver. Daughter #1 offered to stay longer if I needed her. And while I did…desperately…I said no. I knew she needed to get back to her own family…her own life. And so, just like that, they were gone. And the house became quiet.

I stayed home alone for a week. I had paperwork to do and some things to wrap up at work. I packed a bag, stopped my mail, and headed to Denver to be near the kids. My son-in-law’s parents kept me at their home. I don’t remember the first week I was there…except that I didn’t get dressed for a week and only occasionally ventured out of the room for a little food. I slept much of the time. Finally, I started to join the land of the living again.

Slowly…ever so slowly…I moved forward. Days became weeks and week, months. The firsts started…my first birthday without him, his birthday, the holidays. Our wedding anniversary was just three weeks after he died. People called to see how I was doing. They sent cards and texts and checked in with me on Facebook. One of my daughter’s friends from high school contacted me every week for the first year. And eventually…they all moved on. It was inevitable. They can’t stay forever. They can’t stop their lives forever.

At first, I was really put out. I still needed to vent. I still needed to cry. I needed to tell every story, a hundred times. I needed so much. I needed more than they could ever give. I have to say, I never felt completely abandoned. I am blessed to have the most fabulous people in my life who would listen to me even today if I called and cried. However…I did feel “like a burden”, as one of my readers put it. I didn’t want to unload on them all the time. Somehow, I managed to reach that tipping point where I realized I needed to start managing this pain on my own. That was a really lonely stretch. I was pretty sure I wouldn’t have to sit in that “waiting room” (as my friend Christina Rasmussen calls it in her book, Second Firsts) forever, but I had no idea how long I’d be in this social limbo. I wanted to stay alone forever AND I wanted to be with people. I wanted to be invited out AND I wanted to never talk to another soul. I wanted to feel normal AND I didn’t want to feel anything. Oh….grief is crazy making.

I had to have something to hang onto…something, someONE, who would anchor me and keep me from flying off the face of the earth. Even though I had been a Christian for seven years, I only attended church sporadically. One Sunday morning, many months after Mr. Virgo died, I decided I needed to talk to someone who never tired of hearing my cries. Someone who would give and give and give…no matter how much I needed. Who would love me no matter how messy or messed up I got. I went back to church…and I’ve been going ever since.

As much as people want to help…they are people. They are fallible. They can say the wrong things. They can feel overwhelmed by your pain. They can burn out from your grief. But God? God never gets tired of hearing from you. God never gets tired of comforting you. He never gets tired of holding you close. Greater is the one who lives within me than the one who lives in the world. God is the one…the only one who will always, always love you. Even when you cry that horrible snot-slinging cry that no one needs to see. Even when you are so anxious you stay up puking all night. Even when your life seems not worth living. The only way you can lose is to give up. Don’t give up. Don’t ever give up. Because joy comes again. It sneaks in the cracks of your broken heart when you least expect it. Not all at once…just a little tiny bit at a time. But it comes, dear one. Hang on…it comes. ❤️

“You, dear children, are from God and have overcome them, because the one who is in you is greater than the one who is in the world.” ‭‭1 John‬ ‭4:4‬ ‭NIV‬‬

#God, #Love, #Light

Surviving the Climb

Wed, 03 Jan 2018 02:30:36 -0600

Occasionally I get a comment on my blog from someone so fresh on this grief journey that they are lost. They don’t know where to turn or what to do next. They are obviously in a great deal of pain and my heart breaks for them because…I know. I’ve been there. Many of us have. I respond to every single comment on my blog. Most often it’s with a ❤️, just to let you know I have seen your comment. Occasionally, I write something back. On this particular occasion, I wrote a whole essay as my response. After giving it some thought, I decided it was time again to revisit “How do you survive this?”

My reader lost her husband unexpectedly in early November. He was minding his own business, driving to work, when he was struck head-on by an impaired driver and was killed. Her world was shattered. The future she had planned with her husband was gone. To add insult to injury, her husband’s death was followed in rapid succession by Thanksgiving, his birthday, an important graduation, Christmas, and New Years. All without him. Her question? How do you cope with this?

Here is my response:

First, let me tell you my heart is with you, dear one. You are SO fresh on this journey and it’s so difficult. Having all those firsts, one after another when the ink is hardly dry must be unbearable. I can’t tell you how to grieve because it’s such a personal thing. I can tell you how I dealt with things and hopefully it will help you as well. If you haven’t yet, do go to Marshmallow Ranch on Facebook and see if you can scroll back to the early days of my blog. You will find much more relatable material there. I started the blog in January 2013 as a way to promote jewelry I was making. Then Mr. Virgo died in March. That’s when the blog morphed into an online grief journal. I know that’s a lot of material to sort through, but it just might help.

At your stage of this journey, let me say this…there is no rule book. But here’s a list of ways to cope.

Don’t let anyone say you should do it this way or you shouldn’t do it that way. Do it your way.
You will make mistakes. Don’t be too hard on yourself when you do.
Be careful…extra careful with your money.
Get plenty of rest, eat right, and exercise as you can.
Avoid drugs and alcohol…they are nothing but bandaids that put off the hurt. That goes for new relationships. I know, I know. I thought that was crazy too till I got involved with someone just five months after my beloved died. I just wanted the pain to go away but when I pulled that bandage off, dear God…it was worse.
Feel your feelings. Cry when you need to. Laugh when you can.
There’s an actual condition called grief brain. You can’t remember squat and it may be scary as the dickens. Don’t worry…it does get better in time. You never go back to baseline, but you do get better.
You won’t be in this fog forever and eventually you will feel joy. Don’t feel guilty for that.
I found the services of a grief counselor to be extremely helpful. I had PTSD from watching the CPR for hours so I had EMDR treatments which helped immensely.

Remember…you don’t “get over” this…you get through it. But, you will never be the same. Let me repeat that…you will never be the same. Don’t even try to find the old you. She is gone. Once a pickle, always a pickle…you don’t get to go back to being a fresh little cucumber again. Whether you become a sour or sweet pickle is largely up to you. Do NOT give up hope of finding a good life, though. You can…and you will…with determination and perseverance.

I realized early on that he died, I did not. I owed it to his memory to live…actually LIVE the days my husband was not given. Since we were looking at campers when he died, I went out and bought one and joined Sisters on the Fly…a women’s adventure group. I also belong to Girl Campers. These are all empowering groups that helped me become brave and strong.

One last word of caution. It’s ok to mattress surf once in a while but don’t live there. Get up every day, splash water on your face, brush your teeth, and get dressed. Make your bed. You’re not as likely to climb back in it if it’s made. Scrub your kitchen sink. A clean sink sets the tone for the day in my book. Even if you just move from the bed to the couch…you’ve moved. Keep moving. One step, two steps. Eventually you will be able to take a deep breath again. (Oh, that’s also a thing. Physiologically, grief causes you to sigh a lot which makes you try to take deep breaths and it’s difficult. You almost feel like you can’t get a deep enough breath. Unless you are passing out or have chest pain or prolonged irregular heartbeat or cold, clammy sweat, its nothing to be worried about. Always ask your healthcare professional if you are concerned about your health. However…this sensation disappears after some time.)

Tincture of time. That’s how I dealt with the loss of my husband. Move forward…and pray, a lot. You may not feel Him there, but God is with your every step. He holds you in the palm of His hand and He weeps for your pain. Let Him wrap His feathers around you and take your rest there. Come back here anytime you need some support. You may send me private messages at any time and I will get back to you as soon as I can. Prayers for comfort and strength, dear one. This is a club we didn’t ask to join. You will learn how to perform magic like tap dancing around that husband-sized hole in your heart without falling in…every…damn…time.

Grief comes in waves. At first it knocks you down. Eventually you learn to expect the waves and you can lean in and keep your footing without drowning. It’s almost five years since my loss and I have built a new life. I have expanded my social circle and have learned many new skills. And…much to my amazement…I have found love again and it is so sweet and rich. Mostly because now I have a thorough understanding of just what I lost and how incredibly precious life and love are.

We all know someone who suffers a loss. We don’t always know how to help or what to say. May I suggest bookmarking this page and share it when appropriate? Share it with everyone you know because someone knows someone who is hurting. Let’s make this the year we reach out to widows and widowers and offer them whatever comfort and support we can. ❤️

“Do not neglect to do good and to share what you have, for such sacrifices are pleasing to God.” ‭‭Hebrews‬ ‭13:16‬ ‭ESV

“Ramona and Her Pet Burro, Bob” or “How My Memory Has Changed Since Mr. Virgo Died”

Tue, 02 Jan 2018 02:30:57 -0600

We went to the farm yesterday. On our way there, Mr. Fixit pointed out the two little burros huddling in a shed, trying to keep warm in the frigid 9 degree air. Seeing the little burros, my mind immediately went soaring back forty years to one of the favorite periods of my life. When I met Hubby #2, he was a Physical Therapist who worked across the hall from me. I was the X-Ray Tech for a small rehabilitation hospital in downtown Denver. He was also finishing some pre-med classes at CU Boulder in preparation for applying to medical school. We were young and in love and poor as church mice. Daughter #1 was three years old. We had no money so we were adept at finding activities that were free, or nearly so. It was cool to be poor struggling students.

It was the late ‘70s. Trivial Pursuit was HOT and we played it a lot. H#2 told me about the Trivia Bowl that was held annually at UC Boulder. It was free, it was close, and it was fun. It was held in a large room. Two teams sat at tables on a makeshift stage and the audience stood shoulder to shoulder around a packed room…a rowdy crowd. I don’t remember a lot about that night. After all, it was forty years ago. But I do remember one team was called “Ramona and Her Pet Burro, Bob”. How could you forget that, right? I also remember one of the questions was,…”What were the tail numbers on Sky King’s plane?” What??? I knew I was witnessing trivia royalty when one young student slammed his hand down on the buzzer in a fraction of a second and shouted out…”N5348A!” You’re kidding! Ok, I Googled it just now…but I was in awe back then. Who remembers stuff like that?

My memory isn’t what it used to be. You don’t get to Medicare age without losing a little something. It’s been made worse by grief and the head injury I suffered in February didn’t help matters. I’ll bet memory loss…or, “grief brain”…is the subject I address most often with those who have recently lost a loved one. I remember I thought I was going crazy or something was wrong with me when I couldn’t keep track of anything in the first couple of years after losing Mr. Virgo. I made lists and then couldn’t remember where I put them. Or my notes seemed cryptic and made no sense when I revisited them. It was a scary time. Will my memory come back? Will it get worse? What is wrong with me?

I don’t remember who told me about grief brain (see???) but I do very much recall the overwhelming sense of relief I felt knowing it wasn’t just me. That’s when I knew for sure I needed to write this blog. Because not everyone has someone to mentor them and while I wasn’t far enough along to actually BE a mentor, I could share what I was learning and feeling along the way. One of the greatest gifts you are given from grief comes when you turn around and offer a hand to someone who is further back the road than you are. It is the price we pay for the grace we receive during our own grief journey.

Memory…its a slippery sucker. I still will get a brilliant flash of an idea for a post that I just know will resonate with someone…and if I don’t write it down, or make some sort of correlation in my mind to remember it later, it’s gone. That is probably the single most frustrating thing I face when I write. I still have a hard time making myself write down ideas because I swear I’ll be able to remember. It’s aggravating. The tool that helps me most is the “Note” app on my phone. I can jot ideas down and when I hit a lean period and have trouble coming up with a topic, I go into my list and find something that is currently applicable. It’s not like it used to be. It never will be. But it works for the most part.

Just knowing you aren’t alone in this is often all you need to relax into the flow and be present with your feelings. No matter how difficult your struggle, God is always there with you whether you feel Him or not. Knowing that can bring enormous comfort. ❤️

“Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.”” ‭‭Joshua‬ ‭1:9‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Out With the Old...In With the New!!!

Mon, 01 Jan 2018 02:30:47 -0600

I love when the calendar turns to a new year. The slate is wiped clean and you can start fresh…a great big do over. Never was this more impactful to me personally than January 1, 2014. It was the first New Year’s Day after losing Mr. Virgo. Somehow, I had it in my head that if I could just say “My husband died last year” it would somehow make the loss easier. It didn’t. Not by a long shot.

I had, in my crazed grief-stricken brain, thought it would be a good idea to start dating someone…just five months after my sweet husband died. Holy Mother of God…what was I thinking??? In my defense…I wasn’t thinking. That first year…well, really the first two years…I wasn’t sane. Not in a conventional definition of the word anyway. I did some things right, but my thinking was just off. My decision making skills were lacking. Thank God time and lots of prayer and introspection have brought me to this new place…this new life.

Now when I look at the New Year, I contemplate where I’ve been, what I’ve done, and formulate new goals. I don’t make resolutions. I’ve never kept a resolution in my life. But I do come up with a focus word. The word for 2017 was “Reach”. I think I lived up to that. I launched a new website. I spoke to several groups. I was interviewed on several podcasts and publications. I had a branded series developed for me called “Getting Bolder” on the Sisters on the Fly website. I continued to write an essay every day here. I traveled to Florida twice, the Outer Banks, Tennessee, and Colorado. I camped and/or had outings with the Girl Campers and Sisters on the Fly several times. I continued working on my social media platform to improve my chances of selling this book I’ve got basically written. And…I introduced you to Mr. FixIt. It’s been a really big year and I reached about as far as I could!

So, now I need a new word for the new year. There are so many things I want to practice in the coming year. Patience. I am not a patient person. Compassion. I try, but I am not always successful practicing compassion with people who try my patience. Love. I want to feel my Heavenly Father’s love and involvement in everything I do so that I might feel that same love toward everyone…including those to whom I want to show compassion because they have tried my patience. You see where I’m going with this? You might think I’m going to choose the word “Patience” to meditate on this year, but you’d be wrong. I learned a long time ago not to pray for patience because when I do, God gives me every single little opportunity to practice it and I just don’t have it in me to be that challenged anymore. No, I have a different word in mind.

My choice? Presence.

If I am present in all I do, I am here to show up and do what is needed. If I am present…I feel God’s love. If I am present…I can actively choose to love others as Jesus loves me. If I feel God’s love, and actively choose to love others the way Jesus loves me, in every interaction I have…everything gets better. My relationships with family and friends are bound to improve. My interactions with others…even complete strangers…can only improve when I exemplify the kind of love Jesus has for me.

How do you remain present in today’s hectic world? To achieve the kind of presence I am looking for, I need to start every day with a connection to the Source. I need to reach for His Word first…before Facebook. Before the news and weather. Even before Mr. FixIt. It doesn’t take much. Five minutes. Five minutes first thing every morning, before anything else, I will seek His face and feel His love for me. I will invite Him to come into my day…into my world…and walk with me. It’s no different than asking any other loved one to go for a walk with me. But the benefits are undeniably higher.

That’s my word. Presence. Feel every moment. Focus on God’s love. Bring His Love and Light into every aspect of my life. I can’t help but shine! ❤️

“After looking at the way things are on this earth, here’s what I’ve decided is the best way to live: Take care of yourself, have a good time, and make the most of whatever job you have for as long as God gives you life. And that’s about it. That’s the human lot. Yes, we should make the most of what God gives, both the bounty and the capacity to enjoy it, accepting what’s given and delighting in the work. It’s God’s gift! God deals out joy in the present, the now. It’s useless to brood over how long we might live.” ‭‭Ecclesiastes‬ ‭5:18-20‬ ‭MSG‬‬

True Love Has No End

Sun, 31 Dec 2017 02:30:44 -0600

They weren’t much more than kids when they met. I remember the first time I met my cousin Tommy’s girlfriend, Suzy. I had such a crush on Tommy in his Navy whites. And Suzy was as sweet as they come. She’s been around as long as I can remember.

I’ve told you about Tommy. He has mesothelioma. There is no cure. And up until the last few years, there really wasn’t much to even offer people in the way of treatment. But they did their homework and took Tommy to the doc who wrote the book on Meso and as a result, he has had two really good years he may not have had before.

The treatments Tom has received are not without side effects. The toxic meds have all but killed his kidneys. They have exhausted treatment after treatment yet, thanks to generous donations and scientific breakthroughs, more and more treatments become available. Maybe someday, they will find a cure. Because…you know. Cancer sucks.

Tommy faces his illness and death with a positive attitude and a great deal of courage. They haven’t been afraid to “start the conversation”. They talk about death and his design…how does he want his story to end when he gets to the last chapter. Suzy is brave and strong. Their love knows no bounds as they recently celebrated their 56th wedding anniversary.

This year, Tommy wanted to give his “best girl” a gift that would knock her socks off. He wanted something so deeply meaningful that she would cherish it forever. Their daughter videotaped the moment for posterity. Suzy opened her gift ever so slowly. Indoor/outdoor slippers. (laughter) Then someone points out there’s something inside. Suzy looks closer and there it is…a small box tucked into one slipper.

“You stinker,” she gently chided this man she’s known forever.

She goes on to open the second gift when a puzzled look comes across her face. She turns to Tom and says, “For us?” She thought they were a matching set of rings. She looks again and finally can see…they are earrings. Someone off camera says…”Look at the ring.”

Suzy is still puzzled then Tommy holds up his left hand and she can see he is no longer wearing his wedding band.

“No!” she cried. “No! Not your ring!” You can see she is instantly devastated. Until Tommy bends toward her and shows her that he has had the date of their wedding engraved on the back. At this point, The enormity of this selfless gift suddenly hits Suzy and she puts her face in her hand and cries.

This is a sweet, personal moment between two wonderful people who love each other without limits. No disease…no cancer…not even death will truly separate these two. I asked for permission to share their story here. For one reason, I love them both so much. Second, I wanted to stress the importance of having “the conversation”, and three…I wanted to give you an idea what to do with his/her ring. Earrings made from a ring that has been cut in half would make a wonderful remembrance.

We don’t know the future. It’s not a matter of if, you know. It’s…when. We pray for a cure. We pray for new medicines. We pray for good quality of life. Time. We pray for time. Lots and lots. Oodles of time. We will love our loved ones like it’s our last day on earth…or theirs. And we will hold fast to the tokens of love like there’s no tomorrow. ❤️

www.facebook.com/melissa.a…

“Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others.” ‭‭Philippians‬ ‭2:4‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Post-Holiday Blues or Just Getting Back to Normal?

Wed, 27 Dec 2017 02:30:21 -0600

Is it the “blues”? Feeling a little depressed after the holidays? Things have you out of sorts? Once the last cookie has been consumed, the last gift unwrapped, the last guest sent off…it can feel like such a let down. Add to that a total disregard for your previously fairly pristine diet and you could be in a sugar crash, gluten-induced, holiday frazzled funk.

That’s where I found myself last night. We had dinner guests. My second cousin and his wife came over to celebrate their 36th wedding anniversary with us. I cooked all day…homemade spaghetti sauce, pasta, and apple dumplings for desert. I have been so super cautious for the last two years and have stayed away from gluten. I find I have more energy, my mood is stable, and my gut is much happier when I keep wheat and sugar out of my diet. Then…Christmas happened. A “just this once” became “that went ok, this won’t hurt” and before I knew it…I was OD-ing on a regular basis with bread, cookies, pie, cake. I knew I was playing with fire, but I couldn’t help myself.

I’ve been craving spaghetti all month. The brownies didn’t kill me. The cookies didn’t present too much of an issue. How bad could spaghetti be? Ohhhh, I found out. Spaghetti is about as densely concentrated a source of gluten as you can get and my body finally stood its ground and said , “What the heck do you think you’re doing, lady?! Are you crazy???” My company hadn’t even left before I really began to feel ill…and blue.

It felt like the blues of grief. And, that could be part of it, I’m sure. With the holidays come waves of grief. But I knew I had been pushing the envelope with my wheat and sugar consumption so I did some research. It turns out, according to a study reported in Psychology Today, gluten, wheat, and corn syrup solids can cause anxiety and depression in people with non-celiac gluten sensitivity. Bingo!

When the holidays settle down, we actually return to our normal state and that can feel like the blues. We often feel the same sort of thing when we return to real life from a fabulous vacation. Add gluten sensitivity to the mix and it’s a sure recipe for feeling yucky. It’s time to start back on my clean and green diet again. I’ve never felt…or looked…better than I do when I’m eating right, exercising, drinking plenty of water, and getting enough rest. It’s more than a New Year’s Resolution. It’s a prescription for leading my best life and enjoying it. ❤️

“For day and night your hand was heavy on me; my strength was sapped as in the heat of summer. Then I acknowledged my sin to you and did not cover up my iniquity. I said, “I will confess my transgressions to the Lord.” And you forgave the guilt of my sin.” ‭‭Psalm‬ ‭32:4-5‬ ‭NIV‬‬

The Rheostat

Sun, 03 Dec 2017 02:30:28 -0600

When Daughter #2 was born, I had the luxury of being a stay-at-home mom. Her sister, and only sibling, turned sixteen and got her driver’s license just a few months after she was born. So, I had a lot of time on my hands to devote to the baby. I knew this would be my last child so I read all the parenting books and nurtured her learning from the get go. As a matter of fact, I placed headphones on my tummy and played Mozart and Beethoven to her in utero. Yes, I was “one of THOSE” moms.

Daughter #2 was precocious. She could READ the alphabet at seventeen months. She knew the names of all her body parts, by their anatomical terms. She spoke complete sentences early. She was a beast! Fierce. Determined. Focused. I had flash cards on the wall by the changing table. We would talk about what it was and what it meant and how you spell it and how you pronounce it.

Because of all this exposure to knowledge, this baby was powerfully curious. She pointed at everything and wanted to know what it was, how it worked, and what you used it for. One afternoon, I caught her staring intently at something from her high chair. I followed her gaze. She was looking at the dimmer switch. Soon she looked at me and asked “Whassat?” It was her FAVORITE question! She asked it hundreds of times a day.

I explained to her that it was a dimmer switch, but the thing that makes it work is called a rheostat. I took her outside and showed her the electric lines coming into the house. I told her about electricity. And I told her how a rheostat slows down or speeds up the waves in the electricity and that changes the light from dim to bright to dim at will. After that, wherever we went, she demanded to know if our host or hostess had a rheostat. My friends rolled their eyes at me. “Would you let her be a kid, for crying out loud?” I should have, probably. My daughter struggled because the other kids just didn’t “get” her. She had trouble relating to kids her own age. She’s turned out fine…it just wasn’t easy for her.

Life can be like a rheostat. We can turn up the frequency and shine light out into the world. Or we can turn it down and sit in the dark. There’s something really cool about the light, though. Darkness cannot overcome the light. Only light can overcome darkness. Keep shining your light out into the world. Keep the darkness at bay. Constantly tell the enemy he is not welcome here. Show him your light. Tell him Who you get that light from. Send him packing. Remember your rheostat when you feel down…and turn it up! ❤️

“When Jesus spoke again to the people, he said, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.”” ‭‭John‬ ‭8:12‬ ‭NIV‬‬

O Christmas Tree

Sun, 26 Nov 2017 02:30:10 -0600

Last Christmas, Mr. FixIt and I had just been dating a few weeks and December found us traveling in opposite directions. He went to Florida with his buddy and a few days later, I went to Colorado for a month with my kids. That’s the longest we’ve been apart since our first date and we neither one liked it. That’s when I figured things were pretty serious between us.

Right around Christmas, I was talking to him on the phone, lamenting that I didn’t get to put up a tree and have a Country Christmas at the farm. When I pulled in the driveway upon my return, I stopped in my tracks. While I was gone, this sweet man had decorated the farmhouse for me to come home to. Not only that, but he was standing there in his grey wool trousers, black dress shoes, a white shirt, and a red sweater vest. He looked so sharp and my heart nearly exploded! What a sweet and generous thing for him to do. He also bought me an indoor lighted Christmas tree, but we didn’t put it up because it was almost New Year’s when I got back from my trip. So, this is the first year we have a tree together.

Someone mentioned they wanted to see a picture and someone else wanted to know about the mechanical angel, so I decided to post a video for you this morning. I still have ornaments to put on but didn’t get home till late last night so I’ll decorate more today.

I went to the funeral yesterday. As it turns out, Sis wasn’t just my grandma’s friend and neighbor. We were related…through marriage. I’ve told you before, you can’t throw a stick up this holler without hitting someone I’m related to. I got to see several cousins and met Sis’s son. He’s been my Facebook friend for ages. It’s such a small, small world.

I am so relieved that I can attend a funeral service now without wigging out. My friend’s son was killed in an accident a year or so ago. Another friend took one look at me during the visitation and said, “Let’s go.” She got me out in the air and my heart started beating again. You certainly don’t LIKE going to funerals, but you have to be able to express condolences without flipping out and it took me a while to get there. For the longest time, I seriously felt like I was just one crisis away from losing it altogether. That “one crisis theory” hung over my head like Damocles’ sword which increased my anxiety exponentially. Full blown grief is about as close to flat out crazy as you can get. I didn’t know if “I” would ever come back. Thank God I did. I couldn’t live like that forever.

My sweetie is gone for his annual Florida guy’s trip so I’m spending the week catching up with “back burner” things…stuff I put off because it’s much more fun to go play with my bestest buddy. I need to be pretty productive this week! ❤️

“Remember this: Whoever sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and whoever sows generously will also reap generously.” ‭‭2 Corinthians‬ ‭9:6‬ ‭NIV‬‬

It’s Small Business Saturday

Sat, 25 Nov 2017 02:30:30 -0600

I avoid Black Friday like the plague. There is nothing in this whole wide world I…or anyone I know…need bad enough to risk life and limb for. I know there are great deals. I know the color glossies and TV commercials have been pumping everyone with the next great thing they can’t live without. I’m fortunate in that my kids were raised Jewish. They got a little present every night, then one big one on the last night of Hanukkah. They also had Santa but there was only one really extravagant year that I can remember. My kids and grandkids are frugal. They would much rather have money and go shopping at the after Christmas sales. More bang for their buck!

I have everything I need. I buy myself a plane ticket every year and go see my Colorado family. I don’t want anything I have to take care of or dust. This year, Mr. FixIt and I have decided instead of getting each other presents for Christmas, we’re going to carpet the family room. We’ll get much more enjoyment out of that than any appliance or sweater. And, it’s the gift that keeps on giving! I encourage you to shop small, hometown, mom & pop businesses this year. Big box stores may have better deals on cheaper goods…but they don’t have the vested interest in you personally that a small business owner has. I’ve owned my own business before…I know. This month makes or breaks a small business. Do your best to keep your money local.

I have a funeral to go to today. Sis Strickling passed away. That’s not her first name, nor is this her last name…my family always just called her Sis “Stricklin’”. She was born and raised on the country road a couple miles from the farm. Always sweet and with a smile on her face, my favorite memories of her were at the little one room church house where Grandma went. Sometimes she would come over to the farm for a visit while I was there. She kept her house neat and tidy. After her husband passed away, she went to Ohio to be with her kids. Her memory went at the end and I know it was so hard for her family. I praise God that he gives us an eternal home with no pain, no tears, and no illness. I know her husband and loved ones who went before her met her with open arms.

It took the longest time for me to be able to go to a funeral after Mr. Virgo died. I wasn’t sure I would ever go to another one, but surprisingly…it’s BECAUSE he died that I can go easily now. If I begin to get anxious, I remind myself I am doing this for the loved ones. This has nothing to do with me…it’s all about them. I was so touched by everyone who came to my husband’s funeral. Their presence meant more to me than they will ever know. I remember so few individuals, but I do remember a sea of faces and that equates to a boatload of love. That love helped me through, so that’s why I go to funerals now.

Mr. FixIt and I put up the Christmas tree last night. It’s our first one together. Blending traditions gave us ample opportunities to discuss and compromise. He wanted the tree in the dining room where you could see it from the road. I wanted it in the family room where WE could see it. We compromised by moving furniture around so we could put the tree in front of the picture window in the family room. This way we can see it from the side road coming in AND while we’re sitting in the family room. I’ll put lights in the dining room window so he can see it from the big road. Even through the top branches of the tree were pretty tippy, the mechanical angel HAD to go on top. I managed to wedge the branches around enough to support her and she is beautiful. Melding…it’s what you do when you keep adding to your family. At this point, if we got everyone I’m related to through marriages together, that would be one huge family portrait. I am so, so blessed to add so many branches to my family tree. ❤️

“May the Lord our God be with us as he was with our ancestors; may he never leave us nor forsake us.” ‭‭1 Kings‬ ‭8:57‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Little Lies

Wed, 22 Nov 2017 02:30:25 -0600

Is there such a thing as a “little white lie”? I mean, isn’t a lie…a lie? Big or small, untruths between couples erode trust in a relationship. If you have a need to outright lie to your spouse, you might not be with the right person. And what about the sin of omission? Ok, I’ve been guilty of “rounding down a little” when reporting how much I spent on that little black dress I had to have or trying to maintain a secret surrounding a gift. And, if I’m going to be honest here, there have been times in my life when I have not been truthful in a relationship and I’m not married to that person anymore. Which brings up that point again…if you have a need to outright lie to your spouse, you might not be with the right person. I wasn’t way back when. Enough said.

I was thrilled when Mr. Virgo came along. He was a great communicator, which was quite refreshing for me. We told each other everything. We told each other stories. I loved his stories. He worked in 5-Star resorts, hotels, and restaurants around the world. He met fascinating people…celebrities, politicians, dignitaries, kings and queens. His stories were enthralling and he loved telling them as much as I loved hearing them.

Several weeks after Mr. Virgo died, I was going through his personal papers in his dresser and came upon things that shook me up. Things I didn’t know. Things I felt were out of character for the man I knew and loved. Oh, it wasn’t anything like a second family in another state or something of a criminal nature. It was credit cards I didn’t know about. A relationship he had had before me that he never told me about. A business he had lost that had debt I was unaware of. Little things, but little things add up to big things.

I didn’t know how to feel. I felt a little betrayed. I felt a little disappointed. I felt a little angry. It added to the sadness and devastation I was already feeling at his loss. I carried that around for a long time and never told anyone because I didn’t want to besmirch Mr. Virgo’s good name. And you know what happens when you hold things in…they rot and swell and become that abscess you need lanced or your soul will explode.

I’m sure I’m not the only person who went through this. But I’ve never really talked much about it till the other day I met someone going through the same thing I went through and I knew there was a post in there. I knew somewhere out there, there is at least one person who needs to hear how I handled that, so here we are.

When I first stumbled across information that I had not known when Mr. Virgo was alive, I was confused. I wasn’t sure exactly what I was looking at. Grief brain addles your mind anyway. Add conflicting information and I was stumped. I wrote things down, made notes, compared conversations till I had a pretty good idea what I was looking at. Then I started the process of reconciling that information and asked myself a number of questions.

Does this new information change how you KNOW you feel about him…how you’ve felt about him since the beginning?

For me, the answer was a resounding “No!”

Did he love me? “Yes…more than life itself!”

Why did he not tell me? “He didn’t want to…for whatever reason…and that was his choice to make.”

If I would have known this information before I married him, would I have gone through with the wedding? “Oh, h*** yeah!”

Mr. Virgo is still the same man I knew and loved and grieve for. The only thing that has changed is thought. Yes, there was some debt to contend with that I wasn’t expecting. That is what life insurance policies are for…debt, funeral expenses, and living expenses till you can stand up and breathe again. It wasn’t much, but it helped me get through the messiness. The relationship he had before me that I didn’t know about? Who cares? He married me. The credit cards I didn’t know about? That is still a puzzle, but one I’ve had to let go of. In the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t matter.

Unless it’s something criminal, or there’s a whole secret family you didn’t know about, my advice is…let it go. Obsessing over things never changes the past. It only sullies the present and tarnishes future memories. They make mistakes…they sin…they’re human. Let it go. I prefer to preserve that special relationship I felt before I rummaged around in the bottom drawer of his dresser. It’s better this way. ❤️

“Do your best to present yourself to God as one approved, a worker who has no need to be ashamed, rightly handling the word of truth.” ‭‭2 Timothy‬ ‭2:15‬ ‭ESV‬‬

The Trophy Room

Sat, 18 Nov 2017 02:30:00 -0600

One of the hardest jobs I ever had was one I didn’t seek out. Mr. Virgo had lost his job at a historic hotel when his position was eliminated due to budgetary cutbacks. It wasn’t a week later when he came to me and asked how I’d like to manage a luxury boutique hotel on 4200 acres in Pagosa Springs, CO. We had discussed the possibility of buying a bed and breakfast someday so I was working the front desk at a Best Western in order to learn the ropes of the hospitality industry. Mr. Virgo was SO excited by the opportunity to move back to Pagosa. He had lived there years earlier but went back to Florida when his dad got sick. Always up for an adventure, I said “Sure!” The next week, we drove through a whiteout blizzard to the interview.

This hotel is a beautiful place. After entering through the electronic gate, you drive about a mile or so through fields of domesticated elk, past the skeet range and the barn, and head up to the top of a hill. The hotel had eight sleeping rooms, a bar, a freestanding restaurant, a spa, and an impressive wine cellar. When we entered the foyer, we were met with an original Chihuly glass sculpture on the wall, travertine floors and some pretty impressive artwork. Each suite is decorated to represent a different country. It truly is stunning.

Once we had a tour of the hotel, we met with the owners in their office at the big house located on a twin knob. We waited in the sitting room. When the owner came to the door to call Mr. Virgo in, he turned to me and said, “Let’s go.” I looked at him in confusion and he said, ”You’re being interviewed as well.” “For what?!” I asked. “Marketing Director, Catering, Public Relations…whatever I need.” My husband knew me well. He knew if I would have known he wanted me to do this job, I would have said no and explained a million reasons why. Top of the list was having absolutely NO experience in this particular arena. I would have never believed I could do that. HE knew I could and he was the one to teach me. I dutifully got up and went into the interview. That’s when I saw it. A polar bear.

A real, dead, gorgeous…huge polar bear. Once I got over the shock, I was angry. I have never hunted unless you count varmints at the farm. I would never in a million years shoot a polar bear to put in my office. However…my husband needed a job and apparently I was in the running for one as well, so I swallowed my feelings and focused on the interview…praying we wouldn’t get THIS job. We did.

The first time we were given a tour of the big house, we were ushered into “the trophy room”…a HUGE room filled with dead animals. And there…right in the middle of it all…was an elephant. I was sick. I don’t know how I was going to market this place. That’s why this was the hardest job I’ve ever had…I had to do something every day that went against everything I believed in. I loved the people who worked there but thank God the job only lasted a year.

I was horrified when I read that our President said that trophy hunters could now bring elephants into the country from Zambia and Zimbabwe. The public outcry caused him to reverse that decision twenty-four hours later for further review. It goes against his M.O. to change course once a decision has been made so I am grateful he listened to the people. These are majestic creatures and their numbers continue to decline. When I say my prayers, I pray for conservation of our treasures. I do not understand trophy hunting. I do not understand the sport in being driven up to an animal, shooting it, then being driven back to the lodge for a celebratory scotch and cigar. I hope the law will stand and elephants will not be allowed to be brought here to decorate some rich person’s den. ❤️

“The righteous care for the needs of their animals, but the kindest acts of the wicked are cruel.” ‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭12:10‬ ‭NIV‬‬

The Long Goodbye

Wed, 15 Nov 2017 02:30:40 -0600

I have a longtime friend…I’ll call her Betty. Betty is retired. She was a child and family counselor…and a darned good one. She is kind, gentle, tender in her approach. She was an intuitive therapist. She raised a beautiful family. She had struggles along the way, as we all do. Some of hers were really difficult. But, in the end, she is still with the same loving spouse, and her children are thriving.

Several months ago, Betty contacted me and asked me to go to lunch with her. It was there that she revealed she had been diagnosed with dementia. It was hereditary, she explained. She already saw the signs and was struggling a bit. She wanted to thank me for teaching her to quilt because it has been a favorite pastime for her the last few years. Her legacy is in the quilts she stitched by hand as well as the books she wrote.

Betty’s biggest worry, she told me over lunch, was being a burden to her family and friends. She told me she was going to become more involved in Facebook as a way to stay engaged and interested. She didn’t want to disappear into the shadows of her mind. I encouraged her to write and remain present as long as she could. In true Betty fashion, she turned her Facebook page into a lesson…of love, of courage, of perseverance. She used to send me private messages occasionally. Bringing an article to my attention. Sharing a travel photo. Sharing a memory. Then the private messages stopped. A few days ago, she shared that her dementia was worsening…right on schedule. She doesn’t leave the house much anymore. She realizes how much she is forgetting and she hopes she isn’t boring any of us. I told her this:

We love you. We cannot fully understand what you are going through. But, we can certainly empathize. It must feel like you are leaving on a cruise ship and the people on the shore are getting further and further away till they disappear. But here’s the good news. The land to which you will eventually arrive has streets paved in gold. There will be no more illness and pain. Only love and joy. And when you can no longer feel our hands, turn around and reach for His. He is always waiting for us with arms wide open.

It’s been a long goodbye. And while I will miss her sweet, gentle posts with pictures of “Home”, I know for a fact she is surrounded by people who love her very much. They will support her as best they can. They will guard her and protect her and wish her bon voyage. I do not know where she will go when she gets lost in her mind. But I hope it will be pleasant and not painful for her. Safe travels, my friend. I will see you on the other side. ❤️

“The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing. He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he refreshes my soul. He guides me along the right paths for his name’s sake. Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely your goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.” ‭‭Psalm‬ ‭23:1-6‬ ‭NIV‬‬

When Things Get Messy

Mon, 13 Nov 2017 02:30:22 -0600

This is the part I hate about home improvement projects…living through the mess till it gets finished. I have done this countless times in my life. You can’t avoid it if you are a homeowner. I did this and then some when my mom died and I prepared to sell her house. She wouldn’t let me do anything to her house when she was living because it meant she would have to throw something away. I completely redid the kitchen and bathroom, painted the whole house, and refinished the hardwood floors…all by myself. It’s ever so much more fun to do a project with someone…especially if you work well together as a team. We took yesterday off, went to church, then out to the farm to feed cats. And today we are back at it.

As I sat down to write this post, a notification came through on my phone. There are nearly a hundred women from Sisters on the Fly down in Port Aransas doing hurricane relief. The very day the hurricane hit, the call went out on the Sisters on the Fly Facebook page. Someone picked up the ball and started The Sister Corps. They immediately started recruiting women to go south to help with the cleanup efforts as they knew help would be needed beyond the immediacy of the storm. The Sister Corps has been posting pictures of the mounds of trash out in front of the houses where they are working. Homes are bare to the studs where drywall must be replaced because of flooding. Bathrooms and kitchens are being replaced. Carpeting and ruined flooring has been ripped out. It makes me look at this room with a whole new vision.

We are freshening this room…not salvaging it. We are making a choice to change outdated colors and carpeting, not replacing everything because of a natural disaster. Again, God humbles me when I get too “uppity” for my own good. This is a joy…a blessing. We are wealthy beyond our wildest dreams. We are rich in love and the bountiful blessings of not one, but two homes to live in. We have the money to buy a few gallons of paint without having to go through insurance adjusters and contractors and estimates to do so. I will look at this project with new eyes today when I am privileged to pick up a paint brush and know I have a comfortable bed to sleep in tonight. I know where my family is sleeping tonight. I know we have food in the pantry and a little money in the bank.

I want to share with you another way God works in my life. The other day, I received notice I needed to make a change in my insurance. I’ve been on the healthcare.gov website and on the phone a few times choosing New coverage. It’s an affordable policy, but still…money I wasn’t necessarily planning on spending. As I looked through the choices, I prayed. “God, show me what I need. I’ll worry about filling out the paperwork…you worry about how I’ll afford what I need.” God always, always provides. You want to know how I know this? Because, yesterday after church, Mr. Fixit and I went to the post office to pick up the mail and there were, not one but…TWO checks in there. Not enough to pay for a full month of insurance. But enough to cover my tithe for the next three months.

This is how God works. He has countless, countless blessings for YOU. They have your name on them…specifically. And he so wants to give them to you. But…he waits for you to ask for them. Don’t come out of the chute asking for those blessings directly, either. Come into the conversation thanking Him for the blessings he has already showered on you. An attitude of gratitude is a fair way to start a prayer when you are asking for more.

Thank you, God…for the unexpected bounty you have blessed me with. I am so grateful. ❤️

“Bring the whole tithe into the storehouse, that there may be food in my house. Test me in this,” says the Lord Almighty, “and see if I will not throw open the floodgates of heaven and pour out so much blessing that there will not be room enough to store it.” ‭‭Malachi‬ ‭3:10‬ ‭NIV‬‬

The Closet Christian

Sat, 11 Nov 2017 02:30:29 -0600

Sometimes it’s hard to walk the talk. And sometimes it’s even more difficult to talk the walk. I shied away from Christianity for many, many years after being frightened by a little ol’ banty rooster of a man. He was a circuit preacher, all hellfire and brimstone. As an adult, I can appreciate where that style of preaching is coming from and what affect it has on my spirit. But, as a seven-year-old, it literally scared the pee out of me and I ran in the opposite direction. I walked a long journey away from Jesus. I couldn’t be an atheist because I knew God. It was this Jesus guy that gave me fits. I rectified that by becoming Jewish for 27 years. It wasn’t till I was 51 that I became a Christian. And, even then, I was a closet Christian.

I never wanted to be that person. You know, that stereotypical church lady who can’t carry on a conversation without “Praise Jesus” this and “Praise Jesus” that. I’ve since learned you can…and SHOULD…let others know that you are a Christian by the way you act and talk. You can do this without shouting “Hallelujah” in the produce section when the Olathe Sweet Corn arrives. (Although, that actually may be justified!) I took closet Christianity to the extreme though. I was like the Unabomber in my hoodie and shades, being very careful not to expose my true identity. Some of that has fallen away with age. I don’t care as much what people think about me. Mostly it’s a conscious decision.

I had lunch with a dear friend Thursday. We met at Bob Evans…a busy chain restaurant where I can get a good breakfast any time of the day. We hadn’t seen each other for quite some time so there was much catching up to do. We talked about the kids and our new loves. We chatted about our travels and holiday plans. And we talked liberally about God and our faith walk. It was an easy conversation…the kind of comfort you only find with close friends.

After about an hour or so, a woman walked over and placed her hand on my arm. “I overheard you talking about the Lord. Thank you! Isn’t He wonderful?” Yes, yes He is. I appreciated the woman’s gesture. She was a true Believer and wanted to share that moment with me. That was fine, but what meant more to me was this…if SHE, as a Believer, overheard our conversation, then there just might have been someone there who may never have had the opportunity to hear someone praising God over hash browns and scrambled eggs.

Incorporating our love for God into our daily conversations doesn’t have to come in the form of that guy with the sandwich board in front of Taco Bell shouting about the end times. That’s the quickest way to turn people off of any religion, in my humble opinion. I prefer a more organic approach.

Don’t hide your light under a basket. Let it shine! ❤️

“Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.” ‭‭Matthew‬ ‭5:15-16‬ ‭NIV‬‬

He Will Cover You With His Feathers...

Tue, 07 Nov 2017 02:30:26 -0600

Mr. Fixit is doing some cleaning up and updating at his house. We make a really good team working on projects together and he is constantly amazed at the things I can do. I think it really shocked him at first when I did jobs around the farm that may have been labeled “men’s work” in an earlier time. He’ll still watch me do something and shake his head. I usually look at him and say “What?!” He’ll laugh and say, “You amaze me, that’s all. You’re a remarkable woman!” I love that. I love being considered a remarkable woman by a man I greatly admire. It makes me feel both feminine and empowered at the same time.

Somewhere in the midst of moving things around at his house the other day, Mr. Fixit stumbled upon a book called Lists to Live by for Every Married Couple. Even though we aren’t married, we figured since we’re a couple, the book ought to work for us as well. Every evening we sit down and read a few pages and discuss the lists. There are lists of activities to do, things to say, things NOT to say, good habits…you know, common sense things that keep marriages (and couples in relationships) on an even keel as they navigate this journey called life. And even though this isn’t our first rodeo, it’s our first in this particular one, so it doesn’t hurt to read.

I like that these lists have faith-based items on them. Pray for your partner. Tell your partner you are praying for them. Read the Bible. Go to church. Mr. Fixit hadn’t been to church for thirty-five years until I came along. I never pushed him to go. I just told him that’s where I’d be every Sunday morning. And I was. And one day he said he might go with me every once in awhile. Not every week…but, once in a while. I smiled and said I would love that. Again…no pressure. Then came the Sunday he went with me. Easter, I think. When we came out, his eyes were lit up with a fire! He was so excited. He’d never experienced church like this. He had always fallen asleep in church. THIS church grabbed his attention and kept him engaged the entire service. He’s gone with me every Sunday since unless one or the other of us is traveling.

This is something new for me, as well. To have someone want to go to church with me every week. To hold my hand during worship and prayer. Someone to sing with me. A voice I recognize praying next to me. This has become a big part of our bonding experience. There should be three people in every relationship…you, your significant other, and God. If both of you keep God at the top of the triangle and you both strive to climb closer to Him…you cannot help but get closer to each other. It’s simple geometry.

When trouble comes into our life, either in the form of tragedy in the news or something that affects us on a more personal level, we remember that God wraps us in His feathers and we can find refuge there. We needn’t be afraid of the things of the world. I watched the news again last night and saw the follow up stories surrounding the shooting in Texas. I watched the mother, the pastor’s wife, whose fourteen year old daughter was killed. I saw her model grace in the wake of an unspeakable loss. And this verse came to me. What a remarkable example of trust. Of faith. Of absolute assurance she will see her child again. I was in awe.

My heart is with those mourning losses today. My prayer is they will find refuge under His wings. ❤️

“He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart. You will not fear the terror of night, nor the arrow that flies by day,” ‭‭Psalm‬ ‭91:4-5‬ ‭NIV‬‬

When It’s All Bad News

Mon, 06 Nov 2017 02:30:02 -0600

I watched the news last night and was reminded why I don’t watch the news. The sadness in my gut, the fear in the front of my mind, the sorrow for families of loved ones lost to senseless tragedy is unbearable. The news came through an alert on my cell phone as we left church yesterday. I grabbed Mr. Fixit’s hand and shared. His jaw clenched as he gripped my hand, silently taking it all in. Thinking…no doubt…that it could have been us.

Church. Church is where we’re supposed to feel utterly safe. Yesterday’s tragedy in Texas was the third mass shooting in the last seventeen months…all of which were among the worst in U.S. history, according to USA Today. I don’t know about you, but I look around more these days. I wonder about people I don’t know. I ask myself if they could hurt me…or my loved ones. It’s taxing. I’m feeling the strain of fear. I don’t like this. I don’t like worrying. I don’t like wondering, not IF, but WHEN will it strike close to home?

There is evil loose in this world and we’ve been rocked to sleep…complacent in our busyness. In our rush to beat the clock and get the most out of every day. Lists need to be made and checked off. Appointments need to be scheduled and kept. And the enemy doesn’t give a darn about any of it. He is only here to seek, kill, and destroy. Not only physically, but mentally and emotionally. He distracts us with the sparklies then swoops in with the spear…or, in this case, an assault rifle.

When bad things happen and you are simultaneously grieving, everything is compounded and spins out of control. It’s difficult to remember there IS control in this world. There IS a winner. There IS a great comforter. When I hear and see reports of things like the shooting yesterday in Texas, I am inclined to feel fear. That fear is from the enemy. However, when I turn to God, He reminds me to put my trust in Him. The enemy whispers…”Ahhhh, yes. But will that bring back the twenty plus lost yesterday? What good is your trust if your God can’t save His people?”

The enemy will not deter my faith. God doesn’t cause these horrific tragedies to occur. It breaks His heart to see his children suffer. What He DOES want is for us to turn to Him for comfort and solace in times of trouble. He wants us to continue to love. We love….because first, He loved us. There will always be senseless tragedies that we can’t explain. But…there will come a day when the things of this world will melt away and we will be freed from the shackles of fear and pain.

I pray for the families of the innocents lost. I pray for the victims of this senseless shooting. I pray for the first responders and the citizens of this very small town in Texas where everyone knew everyone else. I pray for the family and friends of the shooter who may have known something was off…may have tried to get him help…may have never dreamed this could have happened. And I pray for the soul of the shooter. He could not possibly have been in his right mind so I pray for any healthcare workers who may have tried to help him but couldn’t. I pray for the pastor of the church where the shootings occured and for his wife. They were not at the church yesterday…but their fourteen-year-old daughter was one of those killed.

No, I will not roll over…I will not let satan win by becoming consumed with fear and loathing. I will keep my faith in God and let Him sort the rest out. That being said…I will make my feelings about gun safety known to my elected officials. God wants us to turn to Him…but he needs us to suit up and show up and go into battle, too. ❤️

“When I am afraid, I put my trust in you.” ‭‭Psalms‬ ‭56:3‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Free Refills

Tue, 31 Oct 2017 01:30:43 -0600

Sunday’s sermon was amazing, as usual, and I am always compelled to share my impressions. Pastor Justin Enoch of The Warehouse Church delivers a passionate message every Sunday that really speaks to me. I love this church! It’s contemporary, has a great praise team, and speaks to my spirit week after week. As I was driving to church Sunday, I felt this delightful anticipation that made me smile. I’ve never known a church where people are SO excited to attend. They give you “high fives” as you enter and as you leave. They hold up signs in the parking lot that say “So glad you’re here!” and “You can sit with us!” It is a reaching church and welcomes everyone, no matter where they are in their lives. I love that.

“If you only knew…” This was the title of Sunday’s sermon. How many times have you said…”If I only knew then what I know now…”? Pastor Justin used the example of the oil and gas industry. If he had only known about the development that was going to come, he would have thrown everything he had into the pot and bought all this land for pennies on the dollar that has now created so many “Mailbox Millionaires”. We live our lives this way. The enemy feeds on this. He whispers into our lives and makes us fearful of the future, worried about today, and ashamed of the past. If you take up the spoon and eat what you’re being fed, you’ll soon starve to death. Your spirit will be hungry…for what, it has no clue. So you seek to find something that fills you up. Drugs, alcohol, sex, pornography, shopping…anything to fill up that hole in your spirit.

Pastor Justin goes on to ask how many of us love “free refills”. Hands go up all over the sanctuary. We do! We love to have that bottomless cup of coffee at the diner or the unlimited soup and salad at Olive Garden. We want something for nothing. God offers us unlimited, bottomless cup, free refills for all eternity…refills of love. If you only knew how much He loves you. If you were the only person on this earth, He would still have sacrificed His Son for you. That kind of love is unfathomable. You can’t earn it. You can’t buy it. He gives it freely. And when He does, you cannot help but be changed.

There is an East Indian saying that says, “No matter how far you have gone down the wrong path, turn around.” You have to make choices in your faith walk. If you are struggling with addiction, you can’t get clean and play in the same playground you did before. You have to make changes. God offers his love freely, but we have to show up and suit up and play the game. What if you put that passion and drive and love and attention you put into anything that takes you off the right path and turned it towards God? What if, instead of running to the bottle or the needle or the charge card or the relationship, you ran towards Jesus? Whoa. That blew me away.

Free refills…unconditional love, free for the taking. I’ll fill my cup at the well that serves Living Water and my cup will never be empty. I ran into a gal in Harrisville yesterday. I hadn’t seen her in about a year. She looked at me and said, “You look so rested, so peaceful.” I am…for a number of reasons. My cup is filled every day by a living, loving God. I have healthy, happy children and grandchildren. My brother is stable and happy and living a fulfilling life. I live in the country in the home of my heart. And, I’m in love with a wonderful man. I am wealthy beyond all imagination. I may not have a boatload of money…but I’m richer than I have ever been in my entire life.

Twelve years ago today a tall, silver-haired gentleman with piercing blue eyes and a disarming smile walked into my needlework shop in Glenwood Springs and changed my life forever. I am so grateful for that. I am so grateful I had that kind of unconditional love and that I have it again. I am so grateful for this life! My prayer today is that you are richly blessed in your own lives. ❤️

“Jesus answered, “Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life.”” ‭‭John‬ ‭4:13-14‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Fire Update

Tue, 24 Oct 2017 01:30:56 -0600

Here’s an update on the fire in Parkersburg, WV. The site of the old Ames Plant is still burning. It started just after midnight Saturday night. The cause of the blaze is still unknown. The old plant housed an operation that ground up plastic that was stored in huge cardboard containers as raw materials to be shipped to DuPont for making whatever product they are currently working on. The Mid-Ohio Valley is home to many chemical plants and Parkersburg formed the Polymer Alliance in the late 1980’s to draw more business to the area. In just one day, over 1,000,000 gallons of city water had been pumped onto the blaze and the last two days saw tankers filling up with river water to give the city water a break. So far, costs of battling this devastating fire has been nearly $200,000 with an estimated cost of $60,000 daily. They are hoping to extinguish the fire by the end of the week.

While the actual ash fallout has been declared non-hazardous, the air quality hasn’t been cleared and people are being urged to stay indoors. Schools, businesses, and government offices were closed yesterday. A storm front came in early yesterday and rain began to fall. I was so happy to see that because I am familiar with forest fires out west. When it rains out there, the particulates get washed out of the air, the fires die down, and soon it’s just a cleanup operation. Not so in this case. I was in town for coffee with friends yesterday morning. I got there before it started raining and, while you could detect an odor of burning plastic, it really wasn’t that bad. The smoke was dying down and no longer billowing black. I covered my face and dashed the short distance to the hotel. It wasn’t long till the sky opened up. The rain and the low pressure of the storm front push the smoke flat down and the wind dispersed it in a line drive toward downtown. The air was heavy with it. It rained hard the entire time we were in the building and when we left, the wind had shifted again and sent the smoke across the river into Ohio.

The governor has declared a state of emergency for Wood County. We are still awaiting news as to air quality, water runoff contamination, and what exactly was in the smoke. The firefighters actually had to back off for a while yesterday afternoon because the smoke was too low and thick to work. Miraculously, there have been no injuries reported due to the fire. There has been a slow uptick in ER visits for complaints of coughing, breathing difficulties, and dizziness. That’s all I know at this point. I’ll let you know as more news becomes available.

As is typical of every disaster, Facebook is rife with stories, complaints, arguments between citizens. They’re frightened of what may be in the air and water…and rightfully so. After all, they were told for years that the C8 released by DuPont that has contaminated the aquifers beneath the Mid-Ohio Valley was harmless. There have been numerous trials in the class action suit brought by countless cancer sufferers…all related to C8 exposure. This is the stuff of legend…like, Erin Brokovich kind of stuff. The citizens don’t trust when they’re told the ash is non-toxic. It’s hard to wait for more news about the air and water. In the meantime, I’m staying away from downtown for the time being. One quick trip was all it took to convince me to stay out of there.

In the meantime, businesses and citizens are stepping up to the plate and delivering food and water to the firefighters. I just read of a business owner providing particulate respirator masks to the public for free. People are good. As Mr. Rogers’ mom told him…“Look for the helpers.” ❤️

““Yet does not one in a heap of ruins stretch out his hand, and in his disaster cry for help?” ‭‭Job‬ ‭30:24‬ ‭ESV‬‬

The Chemical Valley

Sun, 22 Oct 2017 01:30:34 -0600

The Ohio River is busy with boat traffic delivering supplies to various plants up and down river. Barges are filled with coal, gravel, gasoline, and who knows what else. Many of the big manufacturing plants are located on the banks of the various rivers in this valley for the convenient shipping. The Ohio River has been cleaned up a lot since I was a kid, yet I was told tonight it is not recommended you actually EAT the fish you might catch out of there. Who knows what is still in that water any given day?

As a child, my bare feet would turn black from the carbon fallout from Union Carbide, just up the river. Johns Mansville was located right in town just a block from a grade school. American Cyanamid, DuPont, Marbon, GE, Viscose, Ames…all plants that deal with toxic chemicals and known carcinogens. DuPont has been in litigation for quite sometime over polluting the ground water with C8…a known carcinogen. They don’t call it cancer alley for nothing.

Mr. FixIt has degrees in drafting, mechanical engineering, and business law as well as real estate. He worked for a short time at Viscose then moved to Ames. We awoke yesterday with messages and phone calls from friends and family announcing the old Ames plant #1 was burning. Apparently some pretty toxic stuff has been being stored in there and the unthinkable happened…it caught fire. It has burned well over twenty-four hours sending a huge plume of dark black, foul-smelling smoke into the air that has spread for miles. Large chunks of debris are raining down on the surrounding neighborhoods. Soot and ash are falling on cars miles away. So far, the EPA is stating the ash is nontoxic to humans. The smoke, however, is a different story and Wood County has declared the area around the Ames plant as disaster area, along with a list of known toxic chemicals that were in the building.

How many abandoned factory and plants are in your town? Do you know what’s inside? Has someone been storing stuff in there that you wouldn’t want to be living with, let alone have it burn up next to your house or your kid’s school? Start a conversation. Go for a drive. Jot down the address of the place of concern and ask someone…several someones. Maintaining the status quo and just looking the other way might get you into a mess one of these days. It may be months, years maybe, before the people of Parkersburg know what they were breathing yesterday. The EPA isn’t there for decoration. They keep us safe. Be mindful of legislation. Be involved in helping clean up this planet. We don’t get another one. And pray for Parkersburg. So far, there have been no injuries, thank God. Let’s hope it stays that way! ❤️

““Yet does not one in a heap of ruins stretch out his hand, and in his disaster cry for help?” ‭‭Job‬ ‭30:24‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Let's Go, Mountaineers!

Sat, 14 Oct 2017 01:30:04 -0600

Today is a day I’ve been looking forward to for months. I’m attending my first college football game…EVER! West Virginia takes on Texas Tech at home. Milan Puskar Stadium is a couple of hours from the farm so we’ll be up early. We’re tailgating so I need to get the food assembled early since it’s a noon game.

Mr. FixIt is a seasoned Mountaineer Fan. One of his three degrees came from WVU and he is a rabid fan. Ra-bid. We listen to the game on the radio when we’re driving and he’s a hoot to watch. He’s bought me three WVU shirts. So far. Yesterday afternoon he announced we needed to go wash my truck to take to Morgantown. I didn’t get it till we got home and he stuck two big WVU magnets on my tailgate. Ahhhhh….it’s going to be one of THOSE days! I’m excited, actually. I had such a good time at the basketball game Mr. FixIt took me to. The football game is a sellout so there will be around 65,000 people there!

WVU has three games a season where they play up a color. One is gold, one is blue, and the other is striped. The game against Texas Tech is striped, meaning even numbered sections wear gold, odd wears blue. We’re gold…hence the new shirt! ?

Since I’ve never tailgated, I went to my favorite supplier of fun ideas…Pinterest. I searched for tailgate recipes and got an idea for meatball sliders but I wasn’t crazy about the recipe itself. I Googled “Italian Meatballs” and came up with this great recipe. I used jar sauce (some Italian grandmother is rolling in her grave) but I used the meatball recipe. I used three pounds of meat because I made twenty four sliders. I used store bought hot rolls, sliced them, put a meatball with a little sauce on it, sprinkled with shredded mozzarella, topped with the other half of the hot roll, brushed with melted butter and sprinkled with garlic salt. I put them in an aluminum sheet cake pan, covered tightly with foil and popped them in a 375 degree oven till everything was hot and melty while I got ready. Just before we left, I took the sliders out of the oven, covered them tightly with foil and popped the whole thing in a paper bag and wrapped it tight with a couple of towels and set it on the floor of the back seat. Voila!

I’ll have pictures for you tomorrow along with a game day recipe for Italian Meatball Sliders.

? Go, ’eers!!! ?

❤️

“He has blocked my way so I cannot pass…” ‭‭Job‬ ‭19:8‬ ‭NIV‬‬

An Act of Forgiveness

Fri, 13 Oct 2017 01:30:14 -0600

Disclaimer: This may be a trigger subject with some. It is dreadfully sad but it touched my heart and I wanted to share with you. It is about the Holocaust and Forgiveness.

Eva Kor was a young child when she and her twin were torn from their family upon arrival at Auschwitz, never to see them again. Under the direction of Dr. Mengele, they were both subjected to medical experiments that nearly killed them. By sheer will, they fought to survive and were liberated by Russian forces.

For fifty years, Eva held on to her position of “victim”…and rightly so. Her life had been forever altered in ways we cannot even begin to comprehend. She is all that is left of her family. As the 50th Anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz approached, she awoke one morning with an idea. What if she could forgive someone. She was often called upon to speak and recalled a Nazi doctor that had been at Auschwitz. She had met him at a conference. She figured he may still be alive so she found his phone number and worked up the courage to call him. I’ll let you watch the video and see how she found it in her heart to forgive the most heinous of acts.

youtu.be/gdgPAetNY…

We speak a lot here about forgiveness. Anger, bitterness, and resentment are the poisons we take hoping they will affect our enemies. Our enemies don’t care if we are eaten alive inside by negative emotions. They are going on with their lives in the nature of enemies…unknowing, uncaring. If my Lord and Savior has forgiven me of my sins, who am I to not do the same? I try to love others as Jesus loves me…even when they are my enemies. Eva’s act of forgiveness took a great deal of strength and courage. She was alienated from other Holocaust survivors for forgiving the Nazis who killed millions of their fellow citizens, friends, and family members. But she didn’t care. She didn’t do it for them. She did it for herself. I am in awe of that kind of heart…that spirit of forgiveness. My petty grievances pale in comparison. ❤️

“Put on then, as God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience, bearing with one another and, if one has a complaint against another, forgiving each other; as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive. And above all these put on love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony. And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body. And be thankful.” ‭‭Colossians‬ ‭3:12-15‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Magic Hands

Thu, 12 Oct 2017 01:30:38 -0600

October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month. I have always been prompt at getting my mammogram done every single year. I always had it at the same place for consistency. Still, even though it always niggled in the back of my mind that time was slipping by, I went a full three years without one. The fact that I am fairly diligent in doing breast self examination regularly was at least some consolation. But not all lumps and bumps can be felt. An exam and getting the tatas compressed is your best advantage for early detection of breast cancer.

I had my mammogram done September 27th, a Saturday. I was up before dawn to go get this thing done. I was in and out relatively quickly. The technologist was friendly, knowledgeable, and the entire experience left me feeling confident in the Women’s Center at Camden Clark Memorial Hospital in Parkersburg. I left the appointment and met my girlfriends for coffee and it became a day like any other day.

The following Wednesday, I went camping for a week and when I returned, there was a message on my home phone from the doctor’s office. Mr. FixIt and I looked at each other and I saw the slightest flicker of fear in his eyes.

“I’m sure it’s fine, sweetheart. I’m a girl…girls are complicated. We’ve got all these parts we have to maintain. It happens all the time.” I said in my most reassuring voice. But he wasn’t buying it. And neither was I. I’d never been called back before. And I’d never had an ultrasound of my breast.

My doctor’s office made an appointment for me for the following Tuesday…a whole week away. As much as I tried not to think about what it could mean, it was fruitless. I’ve worked in medicine almost my entire working life. I was married to a doctor who was the director of hospice. I was an x-ray tech. I know what I know. I ran through the risk factors. I used to drink more than I should have when I was going through a particularly difficult marriage/divorce but when the divorce was over, so was the drinking. I am not at my ideal weight and I don’t exercise as much as I should. The king sized plus for me is absolutely zero family history of breast cancer. By the time the appointment came around, I was feeling pretty confident this wasn’t cancer.

Tuesday finally came. The technician who came out to get me was the same gal who did the first mammo. That was comforting…and good, in that her technique would be the same for comparison’s sake. She told me there were two places in the breast that caused them concern and she pointed them out to me. She proceeded to do another mammogram. This one used a compression paddle on the machine that squeezed a small, three inch circle…really squeezed. I won’t lie…it stung. No problem holding my breath for that one! When she had the top down views done, she changed the paddle to a five inch circle for the side views. Again, the compression took my breath away, but I wanted good compression so the radiologist could see what he/she was looking for. It was soon done and I was ushered to a waiting room. Once the radiologist said no more views were needed, I was taken to the ultrasound room.

I’ve had ultrasounds many times, but never of my breast. They warm the gel! How nice! I’m laying there with my arm over my head and my boob hanging out in front of someone who was born the year I graduated from high school but, by golly, that gel was warm! The tech turned the screen slightly toward me and I saw what I had seen on the mammogram, only instead of being an oval, clearly encapsulated thing that looked much like a grape…I saw a black hole. My heart sank for a moment. Then my medical expertise came back and I thought about the physics of ultrasound. I soon reasoned what I was looking at was a fluid filled cyst and the vast majority of those are benign. Breathe.

The tech moved to the other spot. This was more worrisome. It was calcification within some very dense breast tissue. I have what used to be called fibrocystic breast disease till they dropped the disease part, because…it isn’t one. It’s extremely common. The last time I had a mammogram, my doctor was musing to herself. “Hmmmm, I wonder why your left breast is so much denser than the right?” “Easy,” I said. “I’ve always been with right handed men” I think she peed a little. Anyway, I digress. I couldn’t make heads nor tails of what I was seeing in this exam area so I just laid back and let my mind wander. What was my gut saying? “This is ok. Don’t worry.”

I was wandering through the mall yesterday, contemplating a pair of shoes, when the doctor’s office called. She said the doctor felt the findings were benign. They wanted to know if there was a family history of breast cancer. Since there is not, the recommendation is to repeat it in six months and if there are no changes, resume the yearly schedule. I didn’t realize I had been holding my breath as I sat down on one of the chairs in the shoe department. I thanked her and hung up. Relief spread over me and I immediately texted Mr. FixIt and my Prayer Warriors.

One out of eight women get breast cancer. Unlike Julia Louise Dreyfus…today it was not me. Get your mammograms, girls. Save the tatas! ❤️

“A joyful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones.” ‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭17:22‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Free Spirit

Wed, 11 Oct 2017 01:30:38 -0600

Much of my life was spent trying to conform…to not be too loud, too big, too much. To fit into the mold of who I (and others whose opinions I valued over my own) thought I should be. I was a doctor’s wife. I was supposed to fit in, entertain, volunteer. I converted to Judaism. I smiled, a lot. I had a perky voice. I did the best I could. And still, things unraveled, my marriage fell apart, and it darned near killed me.

It took a long time, and a lot of therapy, to find my voice. So many times women hang their identity on a hook by the front door and become who they need to be…who they’re expected to be. I have two beautiful daughters who are wonderful adults. Honestly, I don’t know how they survived me because I was a hot mess back in the day.

Mr. Virgo was the first man to really “get” me. He was patient and listened intently and fiercely supported me. He helped me see, and really FEEL, my value. When he died suddenly, my world and my self-confidence was rocked. When I was alone on my grief journey in the wilderness and backroads of Colorado in the first few months after he died, I really understood for the first time that it’s up to me to be happy. If we search for happiness from external things, we will always be disappointed.

I had a Mr. Virgo-sized hole in my heart and a God-sized hole in my life. I couldn’t bring Mr. Virgo back, but I could…and DID…reach out to God to fill me up with a peace only He could give. My go-to scripture became “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” Over and over, through long anxiety-riddled nights, I repeated it till I believed it…till I felt it in my bones. And magically, God filled in the empty, hurting places with a golden love-light like none I had ever known.

I was telling someone yesterday…I loved Mr. Virgo with the white-hot heat of the sun. But I still never felt whole till I loved GOD with the white-hot heat of HIS Son. My light shines from within. I carry myself differently. I’m happy and content with myself and my life. And now? Now I have Mr. FixIt. I’m so glad he came into my life after I was broken open. I don’t know that we would have appreciated each other if this would have happened at any other time in our lives.

God’s timing is so perfect. ❤️

“Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? And not one of them is forgotten before God. Why, even the hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not; you are of more value than many sparrows.” ‭‭Luke‬ ‭12:6-7‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Past the Breaking Point

Tue, 10 Oct 2017 01:30:25 -0600

Filicide. It’s something we don’t want to talk about…something we don’t understand. How could a mother kill her own children? It’s beyond our comprehension. How can someone be pushed so far that they would break like that? It goes against every grain. Yet, it happens.

There was a tragedy in West Virginia last week. A woman shot her two young children, then herself. The little boy was hanging on by a thread last I heard. The little girl and the mom are gone. I just learned last night that not one, but both children have/had special needs. I don’t know what they’re challenges are/were, but I do know what it’s like to grow up in a family with a special needs child. My brother was born with cerebral palsy and mild mental impairment. I will never forget the day the doctor gave Mom the prognosis. They told her he would never live a normal life. He wouldn’t drive or be able to take care of himself or hold a real job. She was devastated. Add to that a troubled marriage and it’s no wonder she suffered from migraines, anxiety, and depression.

About six years ago, I did a short stint as a substitute paraprofessional in a severe needs classroom at the elementary school where my older daughter taught. I couldn’t do it…and I grew up with this. I don’t know how teachers and parents keep from going over the edge. This mother had more than she could handle and she broke.

The news headline said “Let this be a wake up call.” Yes, let’s. There are few people who don’t know anyone affected by a special needs child in their circle…be it church or the hair salon or the bank or a neighbor. If you know someone, and you’ve never offered to help out, do something. A couple hour break could make a world of difference in an overwhelmed parent’s life. Take them a meal. Offer to cut their lawn. Give them a gift card to the grocery. Heck, give them a hug. Tell them, while you can’t understand exactly what they’re going through, you’d like them to know you’re there for whatever help you may be able to give them. Pray with them. Pray FOR them. If you can’t do any of these things, pray for God to open your heart to whatever He would want you to do.

My demographic here is 40-65 year old women mainly, so I guess I’m encouraging grandmas to do what grandmas do best…love on somebody that sorely needs it today. You never know who that outstretched hand may save. We cannot understand how horrible things like this can happen, but perhaps we can change the course by opening our hearts and loving people like Jesus does. ❤️

“Then children were brought to him that he might lay his hands on them and pray. The disciples rebuked the people, but Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of heaven.” And he laid his hands on them and went away.” ‭‭Matthew‬ ‭19:13-15‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Losing Your Sense of Direction

Fri, 06 Oct 2017 01:30:53 -0600

There’s no quicker way to lose your inner compass than through the experience of grief. God built us to numb down so we don’t experience the loss in one gulp. I remember the first year. I was so numb from the neck up. I didn’t fully grasp what had happened to my world until the second year. THAT was the year of pain for me because I “woke up” and he was still gone. I didn’t know where to turn. I literally didn’t know which end was up. I couldn’t make intelligent choices. I couldn’t see further than today…maybe even this hour. It was terribly disconcerting to me to feel so out of control. It was terribly comforting to me when you all started writing back with things like “Yes! That’s me!” and “OMGosh! You’re in my head! How did you know?”

Losing your inner compass is normal in grief. Losing your sense of direction doesn’t just come with the loss of a loved one though. It can come with anything that shocks our sensibilities. And I can’t think of anything more shocking than the events of the last month. While I was out galavanting around, camping here and there, appearing at public events, being interviewed while flyfishing, sitting around the campfire with friends…events were taking place that were shattering our world and I was largely disconnected save for the occasional notification on my phone when I was in cell range.

Disclaimer: I’m not here to discuss politics. There are many, many sites where that is the theme. This is a safe place where we discuss grief and the things that effect it. That being said…I would be remiss if I sail along singing Kumbaya and not address the horrifying events that have hit us over and over and over the last few weeks.

Devastating hurricanes. Deadly earthquakes. Horrific mass murders. Huge breaches of electronic security. Every week…every day…it’s something. Another thing…another horror. It’s hard to feel safe in times like this when you aren’t grieving. Add the insecurity and emotional turmoil of loss to the mix and it’s so easy to lose your way…to lose direction…to lose hope.

Yes, there are political avenues that can and…in my humble opinion…should be implemented to curb events that can be curbed. I am an enigma. I am a diehard liberal Christian and Democrat with a gun. I believe in my right to carry and protect myself, my property, and my loved ones. If I need to hunt to eat, I need a weapon to do so. What I don’t need is an assault rifle, let alone forty-three of them, and I certainly don’t need one that shoots automatically. I might need a couple hundred rounds of ammo. I don’t need ten thousand. I might need some fertilizer for my garden. I don’t need enough to blow up a building. I need to protect my little corner of the world from nefarious interlopers. I’m fully aware not everyone agrees on these issues and I’m not here to debate politics or gun control or any “third rail” issue. This is a faith-based blog so I’m going to approach this from my own personal faith-based perspective.

I usually drive in silence. It’s my think time. But, occasionally I listen to a book on tape or a talk given by someone on a subject I am interested in. As events unfolded over the last month, I found myself getting upset and angry…a perfectly normal reaction to such chaos. Since losing Mr. Virgo, I’ve found it helpful to retreat within myself and become quiet and introspective in order to process additional loss. Now that I have Mr. FixIt in my life, I don’t have long stretches of time to silently contemplate my feelings, process them, and retrieve my bearings. I felt my fear grow and my frustration build to the point of lashing out at him when he did nothing but be kind and love me. I needed to fix that before it became a problem.

God always brings me what I need to walk through this path. Remember me telling you that we have to walk through fire in this life, but God throws gems down in the flames? We may not recognize the meaning of a particular gem, but we tuck it away because somewhere down the line, we’ll understand. When I was in Colorado, I went to a used book store looking for books on tape for the long drives I take traveling with TOW-Wanda. This time I found several presentations by such notables as Brené Brown, Pema Chodrin, and Joyce Meyers. I tucked them in the truck but didn’t listen to them on the trip home because Mr. FixIt was with me.

Last week I traveled up to Beaver Creek State Park and found the four hour block of time to listen to Pema Chodrin’s “Don’t Bite the Hook: Finding Freedom from Anger, Resentment, and Other Destructive Emotions”. Her basic premise boils down to finding compassion for the perpetrator. She spends the better part of three and a half hours explaining how to fight the addiction of anger and replace it with patience and compassion. Anger sits in the pit of our stomach. It’s uncomfortable and we lash out to release those pent up feelings. But, what if we allow ourselves to sit with that discomfort, recognize it as a temporary feeling, look at the person pissing us off and feel compassion? If that’s too hard, then at least just say…“OK, this person is pissing me off. I’m not biting that hook.” There is a difference between suppressing anger and diffusing it. Suppression will just place it in a pressure cooker and it becomes self-destructive. Diffusing it dissipates the energy and converts it into something self-soothing.

How does this relate to the current events in the world? Well, environmentally, these storms are getting more powerful, more frequent, and more destructive. As an environmentalist, one can get angry at politicians who refuse to believe in climate change. As one who believes this is a predictable cycle of nature, one can get angry at the “tree huggers” for leading the charge with “the sky is falling!” Earthquakes? Environmentalists are angry with the oil and gas industry for fracking and causing instability beneath the earths crust. Others are angry at such rhetoric saying the earth’s crust moves…deal with it. Mass shootings? The NRA will give you their guns when you pry them out of their cold, dead fingers as Charlton Heston so eloquently put it. Gun control advocates are angry that this just keeps happening over and over and over and nothing ever changes.

The common denominator in all of this is anger. Righteous indignation. Me against them. No one ever resolves conflict with increased conflict. The divisive nature prevalent in today’s world does nothing to diffuse anger. As a matter of fact, it seems its only point is to produce more anger and conflict. This is the work of the enemy. This is where my faith comes in. This battle has been fought for centuries and my personal belief is…the good guy wins in the end. My personal belief is…that which lives within me is more powerful than that which lives in the world. Lashing out at Mr. FixIt because I’m harboring anger over world events is counterproductive. So, how do I resolve that inner conflict? Through compassion.

How do we live out the compassion of Christ in such a dark time in this world? Turning to the Master Teacher, we can cry out for Him to teach us compassion. We can read about the ways Christ showed compassion to others…even his enemies. He touched those who were sick. Even the outcast…the untouchables with leprosy. He sought them out and ministered to them and healed them with just a touch. Race, religion, social or economic status…nothing kept Christ from touching the lives of others with love and tenderness. We can read about Jesus’ tears for the fallen. How He wept for those who refused to hear His teachings. How he asked His Heavenly Father to forgive those who crucified Him for they knew not what they were doing. That in and of itself is the ultimate display of compassion. The motivation behind all of Christ’s teachings throughout the New Testament is love and compassion.

So, how do you show compassion for someone who stands in a hotel room on the 32nd floor of a busy hotel and calmly executes 59 innocent people, wounds nearly 500, and changes the lives of thousand more…forever? For me, it comes from the realization that one does not do something like that unless they are not in their right mind. There is such evil in the world. Satan whispers into the lives and hearts of vulnerable people and leads them to do unimaginable, unspeakable things. My response is to pour out more love…to try to tip the scales of the world toward goodness and light. Not with a Pollyannaesque naïveté, but with the pure, genuine love and compassion expemplified by Jesus.

It’s a scary world. I saw Mr. FixIt’s first little greatgrandchild this week. I held this tiny, perfect little human in my hands and prayed hard that God would keep her safe in this great big place. It hits hard when a new life is placed in your hands. In the end, the left wing and the right wing belong to the same bird. We really are in this together. There is one race…the human race…and if we want to keep going, we are going to have to find a way to come together, to get along.

Ok, we went to church there…but, in my humble opinion…this world needs more light. For me, it is through Christ, who strengthens me. For others, it may be different. But by whatever means available, the answer to everything is love and compassion. ❤️

“Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity.” ‭‭Colossians‬ ‭3:12-14‬ ‭NIV‬‬

I Need This Mug!

Tue, 26 Sep 2017 02:55:32 -0600

I think I finally got a handle on my possum problem here at the farm. I have been fiddling around with the cats’ feeding schedule and did some research online. I started feeding them once a day and unless they search me out asking for something in the evening, that’s all they get. By noon they aren’t eating anything anyway so I pick up their dishes and set them inside a galvanized bucket with a locking lid. Bingo! No more late night visits from a passel of possums!

I think this is the week to bring in the hummingbird feeders. We need to encourage them to move along before it gets too cold. We have two really hot days coming then the weather turns cool. We have so many leaves falling. This year they seem to have just turned brown and fallen off. Not a lot of color in my woods.

The grass is still growing. The lawn will need mowing again soon. The days are getting shorter and there is less and less light in this old holler. I changed the light up high on the barn yesterday in preparation for long, dark winter evenings. The dogwoods are full of red berries. It’s a beautiful time of year.

My talk last night was well received. They gave me a mum for my yard. I’ll cherish that. Today is prep day for tomorrow’s trip up to the campground. I think this is the last hurrah for the camping season. Always a sad thing.

Tell me about the leaves where you are! ❤️

“And God said, “Let there be lights in the vault of the sky to separate the day from the night, and let them serve as signs to mark sacred times, and days and years,” ‭‭Genesis‬ ‭1:14‬ ‭NIV‬

Tethered to God

Mon, 25 Sep 2017 01:55:16 -0600

A ship that slips its moorings is quickly swept to sea. At the mercy of the wind and the waves, it may sink to the briny depths, never to be seen again. Our relationship with God is much the same way. If we remain tethered to Him, we can weather any storm, but…let go and all bets are off. HE never lets go of us. It is always the other way around.

Mr. FixIt and I have been attending the 5:00pm service at our church. It gives us all day on Sunday to enjoy the farm, then head to town about 4:00. He bowls on Sundays at 7:00 so it works out to be a good time for us. Last night’s sermon was on the detours life gives us. There are two types of detours. The kind we take ourselves on when we become untethered from God and the kind God takes us on.

We are so egocentric, we think God is punishing us if we can see what He intends to give us, but he takes us the long way around instead. These trials weren’t necessarily orchestrated by God. He has a much bigger world view than we do. His grand view takes us through these trials so that we CAN have the reward He has in mind for us…even if it’s not delivered in this world. Our job is to hang on and remain tethered to Him. He is our anchor.

We all have trials in this world. God uses those trials. Not as punishment. But as a way to hone us into the person He intends us to be. Suffering produces perseverance. Perseverance, character. And character, hope.

I have a speaking engagement this evening at a local church. I’m really looking forward to that and always pray God brings me every opportunity to praise Him and share with others how He has blessed me.

Have a Happy Monday! ❤️

“Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand. And we boast in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.” ‭‭Romans‬ ‭5:1-5‬ ‭NIV‬‬

He Will Cover You With His Feathers

Thu, 14 Sep 2017 01:55:17 -0600

It’s hard to believe exactly four-and-a-half years ago, I was preparing a funeral for a man I never dreamed of losing. Mr. Virgo was gone in a heartbeat, literally, and I was left to make some sense and order out of the chaos left behind. Looking back on it with today’s vision, I can see so many things I would have done differently. I don’t think I made huge mistakes, but I think if I would have known then what I know now, there are definitely things I would have done differently.

I hosted the Sisters on the Fly event over the weekend and there were a couple fairly new widows there. They did well, enjoyed themselves, and were very capable campers. I could see through all that to the pain that lay beneath the surface. I recognized them…I was there not all that long ago myself.

A couple of years ago, I was contacted by a writer and published author of many books on women and finance. She was writing an article for the New York Times on widowhood and retirement and asked if she could interview me. We have stayed in touch over the last couple of years and she has followed my blog. Recently I heard from her again. She had been asked by Fidelity to write an article about widowhood and investing and immediately thought of me. We spoke again and I shared those things I felt I did right, and those I could have…should have…done differently.

The article for Fidelity’s “Viewpoints” online magazine went live yesterday and I am sharing it with you here. From the beginning, this blog was meant not only as a way to share and heal my own grief, but also to serve as a place to learn, grow, and experience support if you are grieving, and preparation if you aren’t. Knowledge is power and grief makes you feel totally powerless. I wish I would have had a grief mentor in my early stages of loss. I try to be that person for others. If it weren’t for God covering me with His feathers to guide, guard, and protect me, I never would have survived such a loss.

And now, here I am nearly five years after losing Mr. Virgo and I not only have survived, I am thriving. New life, new love, new experiences. I never would have dreamed this was possible. Today I leave for the Country Living Fair in Columbus, Ohio. Please stop by for a visit if you are in the area! ❤️

https://www.fidelity.com/viewpoints/personal-finance/8-financial-tips-for-widows

“He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.” ‭‭Psalm‬ ‭91:4‬ ‭NIV‬‬

The Beckett Brothers

Thu, 07 Sep 2017 01:55:18 -0600

I never met them. I didn’t know them. But, I knew who they were. Everyone knew who they were. When I was a little girl, you didn’t drive anywhere in town without seeing them together…walking. They walked everywhere. They loved to travel. One would always walk about ten feet behind the other. Their determined stride would take them cross town and cross country. I’ve heard stories. “They were very wealthy…they just chose to live this way.” I don’t know the truth. I do know they called them names. “Pete and Repeat”. “Mutt and Jeff”.

In truth…they were Gerald and John. They were inseparable. They were not twins but they dressed alike. Always. One time one of them was injured and they got a wheelchair. The well one wheeled the sick one. When he finally got well, an argument ensued. The well one felt it was his turn to be pushed around but the sick one refused to give up his cushy gig. There were lots of stories. But not a lot of people coming forward with open arm to help these guys. Finally, a girl named Heather was driving buy and saw them with the wheelchair stuck in the snow and said a prayer. “Lord! Why don’t you DO something for these men.” And God answered her…“I did. I made you!” So Heather turned around, drove back, and helped the men out of the snowbank in her high heels. Thus began a loving friendship between the most unlikely of people. Heather taught her children to love the way Christ loved.

This week, Gerald died in his sleep. Heather and her family was at his side. So was John. We’ll just have to wait and see how John fairs without his brother. I pray for his comfort. I pray for Heather and her family as they make this journey with only John. Parkersburg has lost a legend, an icon. It will never be the same without them walking the streets together. ❤️

“Behold, how good and pleasant it is when brothers dwell in unity!” ‭‭Psalms‬ ‭133:1‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Forgiveness

Mon, 28 Aug 2017 01:55:55 -0600

We had a guest speaker at church yesterday and man…did he deliver! So here we go…it’s time for some Monday Morning Motivation. We’re going to church.

Forgiveness. Such a simple word that is packed full of power. We all need forgiveness for something. Something we’ve done that has hurt others. Hurt ourselves. Or maybe, something we did in the dark that no one knows about. Thing is….someone knows. Someone always knows. You know. And God knows.

“would not God discover this? For he knows the secrets of the heart.” ‭‭Psalms‬ ‭44:21‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Our guest pastor was Pace Hartfield of Coeur d’Alene, Idaho. He tells a story of the first night his father let him drive his mother’s brand new car when he turned sixteen. There was just one caveat…he was not to leave town. So, of course, he left town. And had an accident. He had hoped to leave his dad in the dark, cruise 22nd Street with his homey, Andy, and get back with his dad none the wiser. But the deed was exposed. There was the damage to the car. And the police report. There was no way around it. Pace’s dad didn’t yell at him. He didn’t beat him. He grounded him. He also informed him he had lost his father’s trust. He would have preferred the beating, I am sure.

How many time have we lost the trust of others by our deeds? How many others have trespassed against us and we have lost our trust in them? As Pace pointed out so eloquently, forgiveness requires exposure. And that exposure creates vulnerability. Oh, we hate feeling vulnerable, don’t we? We can get stuck in that exposure and vulnerability and feel shame without forgiveness. It is the forgiveness that sets us free. That frees others. Who have you literally held hostage for years by not forgiving them?

The guest pastor spoke of the woman who was caught in the act of adultery. The religious leaders tried to set Jesus up by bringing the woman before him in the temple where he was teaching. They were loud and raucous and challenged Jesus to do something with her. Instead, he ignored them and stopped down to write in the sand. The leaders were outraged and became even louder. Jesus quietly stood up and said, “Let he who is without sin, cast the first stone.” He then went back to writing in the sand. One by one, the leaders left without stoning the woman till they were left alone in the temple. Jesus knew what she had done. But he loved her anyway. He did not condone what she had done, and instead offered her forgiveness and sent her on her way with the admonishment to “Go and sin no more.”

We all sin. We all make mistakes. We feel guilt and shame. But we are forgiven and we are loved. Forgiveness sets us free from the bondage we place on ourselves, on others, by others. I often quote Maya Angelou…“We do what we know and when we know better, we do better.” Well, sometimes we know better and we do it anyway. Yet, still…we are loved and forgiven by a good, good Father. Our work here is to love and forgive in the same way. ❤️

“The eyes of the LORD are everywhere, keeping watch on the wicked and the good.” ‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭15:3‬ ‭NIV‬‬

The Eastern Screech Owl

Sat, 19 Aug 2017 01:55:06 -0600

This is not my photo, but isn’t this a magnificent creature??? Mr. FixIt and I went for a short walk after supper last night. It was just getting dusk and we heard the familiar trill of the screech owl. Their name is misleading as they do not screech…they trill and whinny. I’m including a link to a YouTube video where you can learn more about them.

I received an e-mail from Camping World late yesterday afternoon. TOW-Wanda is fixed and waiting for us to come get her. I refuse to go Monday as that is heading right into eclipse country and I don’t want any part of that craziness. I saw a photo of what to expect in our area as far as coverage of the sun and it’s pretty darn close to complete so I’m not too worried about staying here. There is also a forecast for cloudy skies. So, there ya go. We’ll go Wednesday and come back Thursday.

I came back from town yesterday and saw a school bus returning from its rounds. The locusts are buzzing like crazy and it takes me back to grade school. We didn’t head back to school till after Labor Day back then. The late August evenings were spent trying to eke out the very last bit of summer fun we could get before we had to return to the “three R’s”…readin’, ‘ritin’, and ‘rithmatic. Somewhere in our little town there is a family grieving their little eleven-year-old who got swept away in a rush of water after a hard rain Thursday night. I just spent much of the summer with Big and Little…they are thirteen and ten, respectively. I cannot fathom that kind of loss. It is beyond me. I pray for their comfort. ❤️

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.” ‭‭Matthew‬ ‭5:4‬ ‭NIV‬‬

youtu.be/SyFJfmEgh…

Curiosity

Wed, 16 Aug 2017 01:05:28 -0600

You know what they say about curiosity…it killed the cat! I don’t know what Kitty Boy was after, but something sure had his attention yesterday. This old stump is what’s left of a poplar tree my Pop-Pop planted when I was a teenager. Poplars grow fast, tall, and straight as an arrow but they are pretty fragile in a storm. Long after Grandma died, my aunt was living here alone and a bad storm blew up. She said that poplar tree was twisting in a circle and she was just sure it was going to come down on the house so the next time her brother came, she had him cut it down. I understand why, but it broke my heart to see it gone. Thoughtfully, they left a tall stump and we use it for the rain gauge…and occasional cat perch. I noticed as I sat and wrote this last night, the rain gauge needs emptying. It’s at five inches. It hasn’t been emptied since before I left for Colorado in early July. I’m sure there has been some evaporation, but I know we had a lot of rain while I was gone.

I noticed when I was mowing yesterday that the creek banks are eroding a lot this year. I pointed it out to Mr. FixIt last night. We’re going to have to line the banks with heavy stones to keep the creek from eating out into the yard and into the foundation of the house. The new dehumidifier is doing a great job and has reduced the humidity in the basement from 75% to 45-50%. That makes the whole house feel more comfortable. This house was built in the early 1930’s. And it was a cheaply made one, at that. The rough sawn timber siding has shrunk over the years and there are now gaps of nearly an inch between them. It has the original tin roof. The walls in the upstairs bedrooms are made of what looks like a stiff corrugated cardboard with several layers of wallpaper accumulated over the years. The basement is unfinished and damp and could use a good coating of a waterproofing product. There’s just a boatload of work that should be done, but here it sits…held together with spit and love.

I was blessed that my friend Charlotte mowed for me while I was gone. It rained the last several days though so I couldn’t mow till yesterday. I swear I could have used a bailer on it! It was still pretty wet and the grass clumped up bad as I mowed. It kept clogging up the grass chute and I’d have to stop, turn off the mower, clear it out, and start up again. It was in the 90’s yesterday and I had to keep taking breaks. It took five attempts to get the yard done and I didn’t even attempt the area up by the barn. I don’t have a rake here. Well, there may be one up in the barn somewhere but this is snake and spider season so if it’s up there, there it’s staying for now. Mr. FixIt called before he headed to the farm yesterday and I asked if he could bring me a rake. He had to kind of piece one together from parts but it’ll do. As I am writing this, he is out in the yard, raking up those ugly clumps of wet grass so they don’t kill spots in my yard. What a good man!

It sounds like a lot of work, doesn’t it? This farm…this old house…this home of my heart. It is. Things are always breaking or fumbling but I fix them and move on. Yesterday it was the water. I was running a bath and it was sputtering and sent bits of black sediment from the hot water heater. It’s old and fragile. I flushed it out for a while, checked the pump, and checked the heater itself. I think it was from sitting dormant for a month. After I flushed it out it seemed fine. Yes, there’s a lot to do, and it is hard work. But, I wouldn’t trade this experience for anything. Farm living suits me. It’s brought a pride into my life I felt lacking most of my adulthood. The kind of pride that comes with working hard and going to bed tired, and happy. ❤️

“Take delight in the LORD, and he will give you the desires of your heart.” ‭‭Psalm‬ ‭37:4‬ ‭NIV‬‬

A Change in the Air

Tue, 15 Aug 2017 01:55:29 -0600

Even though it is only the middle of August, there is a definite change in the air. There are leaves changing already and the woods have taken on the “tired green” of late summer, having spent their glorious stores of chlorophyll in the peak of summer. Yesterday dawned cloudy and relatively cool and soon the sky gifted us with a gentle rain that lasted most of the day. So much for mowing the lawn.

I’m sitting on the front porch at the farm as I write this, watching the goldfinches fight over the socks of thistle seeds. Boy Cat and Old Mama Kitty are keeping me company as I listen to the rain pattering on the leaves in the nearby woods. The sun is trying to break through and make its first appearance of the day, just shy of 5:00. Since I couldn’t mow, I drove to town and ran errands. I am hosting a Sisters on the Fly event September 7-10 and I needed to make arrangements. I have 23 women signed up so far and registration is still open if you would like to attend.

I felt much better today…stronger, better rested. I have been thinking about triggers and how they stimulate the grief response. At first, everything is a trigger. When you are in the acute stages of grief, your feelings are like a frayed electric cord, ready to shock you at the slightest touch. After some time, things even out a bit but it is still amazing how the tiniest thing can trigger grief. When you’ve had a long stretch without a meltdown, you can get a little complacent, thinking maybe you’re through all that. So it kind of takes you by surprise when a new wave comes. That was what I felt over the weekend.

As I was driving through town yesterday, I was coming up to a stoplight when I heard an ambulance approaching. I stopped and waited for it to come through from my left and make the turn towards the hospital. There was an elderly man seated in the front passenger seat and I suddenly flashed back to the ambulance ride taking Mr. Virgo to the ER from the RV dealership where he had his heart attack. I hadn’t thought about that drive for quite some time. For a brief moment, my eyes met those of the man in the front seat and I recognized that panicked and confused look on his face. There was a slight set of the jaw that was familiar. “Ok, ok, ok….let’s get this done. Be strong. Just breathe.” At least, that’s what went through my mind when I was in his shoes.

I didn’t have a reaction to this trigger. I was prepared. It’ll be a while before I have another grief response, I imagine. I’m a bit more on guard now. That’s a relief of sorts. I hate when the wave comes unexpectedly. For now, I’ll sit on the porch and watch the rain as the light changes and the hummingbirds fight over the feeder…and wait for Mr. FixIt to call so I can start supper. History repeats itself and life goes on. ❤️

“And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body. And be thankful.” ‭‭Colossians‬ ‭3:15‬ ‭ESV‬‬

When Darkness Calls

Mon, 14 Aug 2017 01:55:05 -0600

I have some really great friends who look out for me. They each seem to have a role. My longest term friend “feels” when something is wrong and she needs to reach out right away. Others send articles for my reference and give me a heads up when I have a typo in a post. They know I cannot STAND typos. One sends me the funniest memes I have ever seen on the internet and spends equal time kicking me in the butt when I need it…which is more often than you may imagine. My old high school chum, Marion, sent me an excellent article the other day about what the first year of widowhood was like for Jodi of the blog Extra Grace Required. She listed the important things she learned that first year. If memory serves, I’ve written a few of those missives myself. We live and we learn and we grow as we crawl our way along on this grief journey.

Just because I have found new love, doesn’t mean I have miraculously “gotten over” the loss of Mr. Virgo. It means I’ve grown. It means my heart has healed enough to make room for more love in my life. It certainly does NOT mean I never have a bad day or have sad feelings. And here’s what’s most important. My bad days or my sad feelings have absolutely nothing to do with my love for Mr. FixIt. It’s complicated loving two men…one here, one not quite so much. It’s easy to love this wonderful man I’ve known almost as long as I can remember. I just have to incorporate a lot of feelings at once which is made more difficult when I’m tired and not feeling up to par.

One of the things Jodi noticed after her first year is, she feels the grief of others more easily. Before loss, grief is sad, you feel bad for the one who has lost a loved one, you have your own feelings to sort out about your relationship with the departed. But, once it has happened so close to home that your heart has literally been ripped out of your chest, the grief of others is not so easily compartmentalized. Someone close to me lost a son-in-law this summer. I spoke to the widow on the phone Saturday, giving some support, acknowledging feelings, commiserating, feeling. When she broke down into those guttural cries I still remember so vividly, my heart squeezed tight, my throat closed, my stomach churned, I got hot and sweaty, my fight or flight response kicked in big time. I held it together. I didn’t crumble….until late in the night. I couldn’t go to sleep. My head was pounding and my heart ached for this young woman who is so new in this journey. I tossed and turned. I used my Rescue Remedy. When sleep wouldn’t come, I changed course and walked around the dimly lit house until I felt I could settle down. I finally slept, but didn’t feel much better when I awoke.

So, it was one of THOSE days. Out of sorts. Off my feed. I didn’t even want coffee…gasp! It was a tea and oatmeal and crackers and lay low kind of day. Not exactly a day spent mattress-surfing, but close. The best part was…Mr. FixIt was there to offer comfort and support and love. He was totally nonjudgmental. He is a remarkable man. He just listened and held me and that’s all I needed. After a while, I was feeling better. Not fine, but ok. I sent him home to do whatever he needed to do for the afternoon and I settled in with my thoughts and processed.

Process.. That’s what this whole thing is. It doesn’t matter if it’s one year or five years or twenty-five…grief is a process. It doesn’t always hit me like this anymore…thank God. The biggest lesson I’ve learned in all of this is, when the wave hits, don’t fight it. Let it carry you to a place of self-discovery and love. And when you’re ready, dust yourself off, wash your face, and get back to the business of living. Because, that’s what we’re here for. ❤️

extragracerequired.com/2017/03/2…

“For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” ‭‭Romans‬ ‭8:38-39‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Welcome Home!

Fri, 11 Aug 2017 01:55:35 -0600

Is there anything more wonderful than the glow of the gas light in the yard to welcome you home? This light has burned continuously since I was a little girl. It’s had many mates replaced and several panes of glass. It’s had a coat or two of flat black paint and it can no longer be adjusted for the rust, but it’s the beacon that greets me when I come up the driveway here at the farm

I ran errands this morning…mail, groceries, produce stand, coffee. Then made a beeline home. All the kitties came to greet me. Old Mama Kitty trembled at the sound of my voice. Boy cat sat a respectable distance and gave me his best throaty hello. Kitty Boy skirted me and settled at the barn with a mouse or some such critter.

I called the neighbors to let them know I was home. They had informed me several days ago not to be too surprised when I come home and find four new kittens. What??? It seems they hitch-hiked up in the car and stayed. I think the mama took one back because it was back at their house down the road. That left three. I managed to catch two of them and delivered them back to their mama. I just didn’t have it in me to try to catch the last one. I’ll try today.

It rained an extraordinary amount here this summer and many of the surfaces in the house are covered in a light mold and mildew. I need to get after it with bleach water. I also need a dehumidifier. I put the groceries away, fed the cats, sorted the mail, cleaned the fridge, and just about emptied the truck. I am spent. I don’t know if it’s age, or if it’s after effects of the concussion, or all the trouble with the camper, but this trip was a rough one for me…even with the help of Mr. FixIt. Thank God he was along. It was fun. I loved seeing the kids and I miss everyone already. But I swear…I’m going to sleep for a week!

If you don’t hear from me for a bit, I’m laying low and catching my breath. I just wanted you to know I’m home…really home! God protected us and kept us safe and we are so grateful! ❤️

““Return home and tell how much God has done for you.” So the man went away and told all over town how much Jesus had done for him.” ‭‭Luke‬ ‭8:39‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Road Trip: Day Thirty-Something..."Home! Kinda."

Thu, 10 Aug 2017 01:55:03 -0600

Yesterday was lovely. We went out for breakfast then headed to Camping World to check on the trailer. They were still working on locating an axle. We elected to take the wheel with the nearly shredded tire to Walmart and get a new one. Easy peasy. Then, to kill some time, we went to New Paris and browsed the antique stores. By 4:00 we decided it was best to go check in on the trailer again. Bad news. The replacement axle isn’t sitting on a shelf someplace. They don’t make them until they’re ordered. And, they take ten days to make. So the camper won’t be ready for at least two weeks!

Ok. Change of plans. It was already 4:30. We swung around back and emptied everything we would need out of the camper. We threw away any food that wouldn’t stay fresh in the fridge, even though they assured us they would keep the trailer plugged in. We stuffed as much as we could in the truck and headed to dinner at a dive along the highway. Then we left Richmond, Indiana and headed for Cleveland to pick up Mr. FixIt’s truck. He left it parked there when he flew to Colorado. We picked it up, filled both trucks with gas, stopped at McDonald’s for coffee and headed for home. It was 1:15 by the time we got to Parkersburg and it would have been another hour to the farm. I called Mr. FixIt behind me and said I’d had enough…so we stopped at his place and I’ll head on in the morning.

We’ll go on another road trip in a couple of weeks and pick up TOW-Wanda. We’ll talk more tomorrow about how this fiasco happened and what to do to avoid it in the future. In the meantime, I’m done. Thank you, God…for protecting us and keeping us safe during our travels. ❤️

“The LORD makes firm the steps of the one who delights in him; though he may stumble, he will not fall, for the LORD upholds him with his hand.” ‭‭Psalm‬ ‭37:23-24‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Road Trip: Day Thirty-Two..."Crap!"

Wed, 09 Aug 2017 01:55:16 -0600

One of the most important things I’ve learned about camping is this…check, check, and double-check everything. When I had that blowout a couple years ago, I learned to check the air pressure every single time I tow…whether it’s to the end of the driveway or across the state. I learned this from Stephanie and Jeremy Puglisi of RV Family Travel Atlas and Janine Pettit of Girl Camper Podcast. Now I check my tires religiously.

Day before yesterday, we stopped in a rest area and when I got back in the truck, I walked around…checking to make sure everything looked good. We were fifty miles from the campground. That stretch of I-70 was particularly rough…to the point we had to slow way down. We got to the campground and did a lot of routine maintenance things. I dumped the tanks and cleaned them out. I picked up inside the camper and got set up for the evening, and cooked supper. After the dishes were done and put away, we got those showers we were so anxiously awaiting and crashed. We were both exhausted and slept like logs.

Yesterday morning, I was unhooking things and Mr. FixIt was checking the air pressure in the tires. When he got to the driver’s side rear tire he said, “Whoa, babe…come look at this. This isn’t good.” The rubber cover was missing off the hub and you could see down into the bearing housing. I knew when I got close and looked at the grease that we did indeed have a problem. The grease was packed with flecks of shiny metal…the bearings had been disintegrated. Luckily there was a Camping World four miles back so we very slowly, very carefully took the camper over.

After tearing it apart and checking into the other wheels, they believe the last person who repacked my bearings (which I just had done this spring) had tightened the nut down too hard which doesn’t allow for the expansion of the bearings when they get hot. The end cap made of rubber blew off with the resulting pressure and shot all the hot grease out, leaving nothing to lubricate the bearings. Consequently, the casing got so hot it literally melted the bearing housing. The only thing that kept the wheel from flying off was a $2.00 cotter pin. Thank God it wasn’t worse…no one was injured. But the bad news is, it didn’t make any noise and we didn’t detect anything in the operation of the trailer in any way, so we drove on it at 60mph for 50 miles or so. That was hot enough to etch the spindle and the whole axle needs replaced. They are working hard to find me one…even if they have to send someone up to the Starcraft factory up in Elkhart.

But, here’s the thing…when I had the blowout two years ago, the repairman forgot to put the dust cover back over the hub. When I had the hubs repacked last time, the shop didn’t have one. I’ve thought of it off and on but never got around to it. And, since I wasn’t actually checking the temperature of the hubs, if that dust cover WOULD have been in place, I never would have seen there was a problem. This was, quite literally, a disaster waiting to happen and it’s a miracle no one was injured.

So, we have an unexpected adventure…exploring Richmond, Indiana and the Old National Road…home of some pretty great antique stores. We found a room for $60 and had dinner at Cracker Barrel. Yes, this is inconvenient. Yes, the repair is going to be expensive. But, we are safe…we are together…and God has us in the palms of his hands. Life is good! ❤️

“You can be sure that God will take care of everything you need, his generosity exceeding even yours in the glory that pours from Jesus. Our God and Father abounds in glory that just pours out into eternity. Yes.” ‭‭Philippians‬ ‭4:19-20‬ ‭MSG‬‬

Road Trip, Day Twenty-Four..."In Jesus' Name"

Mon, 31 Jul 2017 01:55:55 -0600

Whew….some Mondays we just have to go to church here at the Ranch. Especially when I’ve heard a sermon like yesterday. Let me tell you a little bit about how God works in my life. There’s a church here in Denver that I really like…Red Rocks Church. It’s very much like my home church in West Virginia…contemporary, progressive, energetic. I love it and couldn’t wait to take Mr. FixIt. Red Rocks Church has four campuses plus a prison outreach. One campus has the pastor live and all the others watch a live feed on the big screen in their respective churches. I usually go to the Arvada campus, but I really wanted Mr. FixIt to hear the sermon live. I was planning to drive down to the Littleton Campus in order to accomplish that. I’m always quick to get ready but yesterday I just couldn’t seem to get it together. I couldn’t believe it when I looked at the clock and saw we would be lucky to make it to the local satellite church. We made a bee line and got there in time to grab a cup of coffee and get seated. As we were walking into the sanctuary, a volunteer said, “You’re in for a treat today…the pastor is here live with an amazing message!” I couldn’t believe it. If we would have left on time to get to the other church, we would have been watching the pastor on the big screen! God fascinates me. His ways are so mysterious. His love is so complete.

The message yesterday was about the Samaritan woman at the well again. The pastor spoke about five words and how they relate to all of us. Pain. Prison. Power. Platform. Purpose. The Samaritan woman had suffered pain…as we all have. She was living in a self-imposed prison of isolation as she avoided interacting with others. Then she had an encounter with Jesus at the well and experienced His power. She used her experiences of Pain, Prison, and Power as her Platform from which she could share her testimony. This allowed her to live her Purpose.

I don’t know about you, but I struggled for nearly sixty years trying to figure out what my purpose is in this life. I hadn’t done a very good job being a wife until my third marriage. I didn’t feel I had been a very good mother, although I tried and I did the best I could with the knowledge and experiences I possessed at the time. It wasn’t till I lost Mr. Virgo and spent three months in the wilderness and backroads of Colorado that I discovered my purpose is to love. To accomplish this, I have built this new life from the ashes of who I was before the fires of grief changed me.

The pastor used an example of someone who has turned her pain into her platform. At seven years old, Gabriella has had more pain than you can imagine. After a diagnosis of leukemia, it has been this innocent child who teaches the doctors and nurses…and, anyone in earshot, really…about Jesus. She comforts her mother when she worries about her and says “Don’t worry…God’s got this!” As they were taking her into surgery to place the port for chemo, this brave little girl only said three words but she said them over and over for two hours before they wheeled her into the OR. “In Jesus’ name…In Jesus’ name…In Jesus’ name.” When the folks from the Make a Wish Foundation contacted Gabs and her parents to find out her wish, she couldn’t think of what to ask for. She didn’t need anything. Finally, after weeks of contemplation, she decided last Saturday what she wanted. She wanted to preach at Red Rocks Church. So, yesterday, this beautiful little angel…just a wisp of a thing in her flower halo…bravely marched out onto the stage in front of hundreds of strangers. She held her notes in one hand, the microphone in the other, and she told us about her friend, Jesus. And how He holds us in the palm of his hand. She said we don’t need to be afraid because when she was afraid before her chemo, it was Jesus who comforted her. She said that was why she had wanted to be “bapatized”…because she loved Jesus. I’m telling you…that was the most powerful service I have ever attended. There wasn’t a dry eye in the place and I was so grateful to have been in the front row to witness it live.

The rest of the day was beautiful. We drove up to the top of Mt. Evans after church. At 14,134 feet elevation, we were quite literally in the clouds. After the power of witnessing the faith of that child, standing on top of the world seemed almost inconsequential. Afterward, we went to Central City for supper and to wait out the Sunday evening traffic returning to Denver. By the time we were back and told our stories of the day to our family, we were spent. Yes, some Mondays I just have to take you to church. This was one. ❤️

“And I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Father may be glorified in the Son. You may ask me for anything in my name, and I will do it.” ‭‭John‬ ‭14:13-14‬ ‭NIV

#Jesus, #wisdom, #faith

Road Trip: Day Nineteen..."The Long Slog"

Tue, 25 Jul 2017 01:55:06 -0600

“Eula Faye” is my F-150…a beauty for sure, but she lacks guts. As I figured, climbing these mountains pulling TOW-Wanda was brutal and pushed her to her limits. I watched fearfully as the transmission temperature steadily climbed, maxing out at 232 degree. I immediately moved off the side of the highway and let her cool back down to her baseline of 194 before starting again. Consequently, it was a very long drive to our campsite on the Western Slope. It was 94 degrees when we unhooked at 3:00. I went in to start the air conditioner to start cooling off the camper when It wouldn’t work…again. It just so happens, we are camping 27 miles from the RV dealer where I bought this camper so I immediately called to see if they were open. We drove straight over and arrived 15 minutes before closing time. We took the old thermostat with us and they ordered us the replacement part. It will arrive by noon today.

I don’t like to say bad things about a business because they could just be having an off day or maybe here was a miscommunication. As we left town yesterday, we stopped at Camper World to get a replacement thermostat as they are a Starcraft Dealer. There were three men behind the parts counter and I got three different answers. The general consensus was the part is obsolete. I couldn’t imagine that to be true as this is a 2015 camper. The young guy went back in the back and brought a thermostat us and said, “This will work.” I looked at the thermostat and back at him. My thermostat has a six wire harness. The one he brought up was nine. When I pointed this out he said, “Just don’t hook up three of them.” Right. I ignored him and turned to the one closest to me who was at least tying to help me by looking up the actual part number. Then he told me it wasn’t in his computer so it must be obsolete. I asked him if the company who manufactured the thermostat had a replacement part number. He had no idea how to contact them. Finally, I excused myself, spent fifteen minutes researching on Google and found the approved replacement thermostat from RVUpgrades.com. I did buy two padded club chairs that are much more comfortable than the ones I bought last winter. Then I left.

Hopefully the new part from the dealer on the Western Slope will work and we’ll have the AC back. Fortunately, the temperature cooled off enough to made sleeping more comfortable, and it is supposed to cool off later in the week.

We took my brother to dinner last night. It was so, so good to see him! We’ll visit again today. I know this isn’t a profound and insightful post. My trip posts are just there to let you know what I’m up to, places I think you might be interested in, and the wonderful people I meet along the way. Like Rick…the helpful hardware man at Ace. Rick has been following Marshmallow Ranch for at least two years. When I pulled into the neighborhood Ace store yesterday to top off my propane tanks, Rick came out to help me and greet me with a great big hug! He was so excited to meet Mr. FixIt. We stood and visited for quite some time. When I came back out from paying for the propane, he asked if he could pray with us for safety for our trip and blessings for our relationship. I went to the truck and got Mr. Fixit and we stood right there in the parking lot of the Ace Hardware and prayed together. It was very touching. So, even though the truck struggled, even though the AC wouldn’t work, even though it was hot and sticky trying to sleep…I let it all roll off me like water off a duck’s back. Blessings abound! ❤️

“For where two or three gather in my name, there am I with them.”” ‭‭Matthew‬ ‭18:20‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Road Trip: Day Fourteen..."My Person"

Thu, 20 Jul 2017 01:55:37 -0600

I’ve been holding my breath for months now. I wanted to talk to you about it, but I couldn’t. It was really complicated and it was scary and it had to do with Mr. FixIt and I hadn’t told you about him yet. I was still trying to figure out how to introduce a new character into our little story here without changing the dynamic so much that you ran away in droves. Come to find out, I needn’t have worried about that. Everyone has been so wonderful and supportive of my new love and I am so grateful. So, now I can tell you the other half of the story.

Mr. FixIt and I hadn’t been seeing each other romantically very long when he had an annual physical and some blood tests came back abnormal. The doctor wanted to wait three months and then repeat the lab work and this time it was even worse. He referred us to a specialist and Mr. FixIt had a series of tests. One of the possible diagnoses was leukemia. My heart both sank through the floor and jumped out of my chest. This was my biggest fear…that I would fall in love with this wonderful man and be over-the-moon happy only to have him get sick and die on me. Leukemia. Just thinking the word made me physically ill. And Mr. FixIt was flat out devastated that he just found happiness and the rug could get pulled out from under us. He hated that this scared me to death. It scared him, too.

He had a bone marrow biopsy and after waiting three weeks, we finally heard the news we had been praying for. It is NOT leukemia! Thank you, Jesus! That’s the good news. The bad news is we still don’t know exactly what it is, because there IS something going on. But our doctor contacted the specialist at West Virginia University and they both agreed to watch and wait six months and repeat the tests then.

I let out my breath. This man has become so important to me. He has stolen my heart. We’ve known each other since we were kids. We’ve always been great friends. That came first. But to fall in love, to open my heart again and to love so deeply after the profound loss of Mr. Virgo…only to lose again? I couldn’t bear the thought. I prayed…fervently. I asked others to pray…unspoken prayers, specific prayers, prayers for healing. “Please, don’t let it be cancer!” “Please heal him.” “If he’s sick, let it be something easily controlled and non-life threatening.” Denying. Bargaining. In his favor, Mr. FixIt is extremely healthy, walks 5-6 miles a day, has purposefully lost sixty pounds, and eats a healthy diet. I can’t help but think, whatever this is, it can’t be too awfully bad or he wouldn’t be this healthy. So I’ll breathe. I will relax a little. I didn’t realize how wound up I was till I heard the doctor on the other end of the line in our phone conference Tuesday.

And now, my sweetheart is here with me! Oh…standing in the greeting area of DIA yesterday, my heart leapt with joy when I saw this handsome man, this lean and lanky guy with the graying red hair, my best friend in the whole wide world coming up the escalator! I could hardly wait to get a hold of him. Our good news of the day before underlining the poignancy of the moment. What would I have done? What if it would have been the worst case scenario? It is not unreasonable for my widow-mind to go there because I’ve been there before. Well…I’ve had a little time to think about those “what ifs”. And I’ll tell you what. Our love is long term. Platonic for the majority of our lives…romantic for only the last few months. It doesn’t matter. When you love someone, and you are dealt a blow, there is only one thing to do…you just hold hands and walk into the fire. Together.

We are grateful we have each other at this time in our lives. We celebrate this wonderful chance at love. We thank God for his bountiful blessings. We put our trust in Him for He has plans for us. ❤️

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. I will be found by you,” declares the LORD, “and will bring you back from captivity. I will gather you from all the nations and places where I have banished you,” declares the LORD, “and will bring you back to the place from which I carried you into exile.”” ‭‭Jeremiah‬ ‭29:11-14‬ ‭NIV

Road Trip: Day Eleven..."You Are Worthy"

Mon, 17 Jul 2017 01:55:28 -0600

Ok, we’re going to church here in a little bit…fair warning. But first, I want to share something cool that happened. As I settled in TOW-Wanda last night after a fun-filled day with the family, I heard the soft hoot of an owl. A Great Horned Owl, to be precise. I jumped up and quietly opened the camper door only to see a pair of huge owls sitting in the tree about 50-60 feet away from where I stood…in awe, I might add. This is not something one sees ordinarily. Not in the daylight and not in a large urban area. I wish Little could have been here…she is really into Harry Potter right now. She would have loved to see the owls.

Little went to church with me and really had a wonderful time. She enjoyed the worship team. She brought up points from the sermon during the day and told me I need to take her whenever I go there. We went to a friend’s house in the afternoon to help her paint her kitchen then, after a little quiet time in the afternoon, we attended a graduation party. It was a beautiful day.

Yesterday’s sermon was about the Samaritan woman at the well. The story goes, Jesus is waiting by a well while his disciples went for food. It was noon when a Samaritan woman came to the well to draw water. Jesus asked her to draw a drink for him and she objected. Jews and Samaritans did not mix company. The pastor has, of course, read this passage countless times, but recent events altered his interpretation. Last week, he and his family went on a trip to Africa to check on Missionaries they are working with. One morning, they went to the well at the base of a mountain and it was crowded with women and children from the villages above…filling their water containers to haul back up the mountain to their homes. Just to survive. And the next day and the next would find them doing the same thing. One would think the drudgery of hauling heavy loads of water back up the mountainside would create a dismal mood at the well. But, that wasn’t the case. There was much laughter, hugging, the sharing of news and stories among this community of women. This was their only social outlet…their only time to get the love and support we all so desperately need in our lives. Then they headed home, their containers full, till they descended the next morning.

As the pastor watched this activity, he thought of the Samaritan woman and a line from the scripture struck him in a way it never had before. It said the woman came to the well at about noon. Now, noon is the hottest time of the day. No one would come to the well at such a time and try to haul heavy containers of water. Why would she have chosen to come when the others were not there? What was going on in her life that would cause her to forego a sense of community. His answer lay in the rest of the scripture. The Samaritan woman had been married and divorced five times. She was living with a man who was not her husband. She was well aware of what the others thought of her and she just couldn’t face the scrutiny, the judgement, the name-calling and whispers. She was ashamed. She felt unworthy. Till she had a chance encounter with Jesus and He taught her that her worth comes from God…not from the opinions of others. That she was just as worthy in His eyes as any other.

How many times have you felt unworthy? How many times have you avoided interactions with others out of fear of condemnation? How many times have you shut down simply because it was easier than facing what others throw at you? I know I spent far too many years feeling unworthy of love, of respect, of kindness. The child of an alcoholic, the victim of childhood sexual abuse at the hands of two different men…these things set me up for low self-esteem and all the resultant destructive behaviors one does to cope. It wasn’t until I felt the unconditional love of a Father I had never known that I began to recognize my worth. I believe God sent Mr. Virgo to talk some sense into me and love some of that pain away.

You are worthy. You are loved. Don’t let anyone ever tell you that you are “less than” or “unloveable”. It simply is not true. God doesn’t want you to wait till you have your act together to come talk with Him. He loves you exactly where you are, exactly how you are, in spite of what is going on in your life. That is the message from the sermon yesterday and I just felt I needed to share that with you today. It’s Motivation Monday…time to straighten up your crown and own your worth today, dear ones. ❤️

“With this in mind, we constantly pray for you, that our God may make you worthy of his calling, and that by his power he may bring to fruition your every desire for goodness and your every deed prompted by faith. We pray this so that the name of our Lord Jesus may be glorified in you, and you in him, according to the grace of our God and the Lord Jesus Christ.” ‭‭2 Thessalonians‬ ‭1:11-12‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Road Trip: Day Seven..."So, You Thought You Were Done, Eh?"

Thu, 13 Jul 2017 01:55:27 -0600

I ran an errand yesterday morning. I didn’t have much of an appetite. I had my coffee. I snapped the picture of the odometer to show you how much I drove in one week. The cloud cover was grey and threatened thunderstorms all day. And soon…my mood matched the grey skies and I retreated to TOW-Wanda to figure out what was going on. First off…I’m flat out exhausted. Pulling this big of a camper is harder than pulling little TOW-Wanda. I’m more convinced than ever that she’s going south to storage and be used as our winter refuge as snowbirds. Second…much as I was hoping not to, the altitude is still an adjustment. I’m just smart enough this time not to go higher and exercise till I acclimate. Third…I’m still healing from my concussion. Fourth…I did not eat right as I traveled. Fifth…I miss Mr. FixIt and he won’t be here till next week. And Sixth….ahhhhh, Sixth. Grief caught up with me yesterday…not only by my surroundings, but also by these damn Facebook Memories. Damn. Damn, damn, damn. I know I tell you often…“You don’t ‘get over’ grief…you get through it”. And yes…that is SO true. And maybe if the first five things weren’t in play, and if FB hadn’t decided to smack me up the side of the head with pictures of Mr. Virgo’s grave, it wouldn’t have hit me so hard. But, they were there, and I am here. Colorado. This is where Mr. Virgo “lives”. Well, the memories of him. They are strong…and yesterday, I was weak.

I had a massage scheduled with my daughter. As nice as that sounds…I couldn’t do it. I didn’t have it in me. All I wanted was a popsicle and Mr. FixIt. And, as much as I miss him….I was actually glad he wasn’t here yesterday. I will not use him as a pacifier for grief. That is a road that, while comforting to know I have someone who has my back, is best navigated alone…at least for a time. Till I get it together. Twenty-four hours…thirty-six tops. I mattress surfed. I read. I played games on my phone to keep my mind moving. Amazingly, I didn’t cry. I talked it out with Mr. FixIt and with my family who love me more than anything. And I practiced self care. Self soothing.

Knowing how to navigate these waves is the gift I received from having been down this particular road so many times over the last four years. Knowing the waves aren’t as high, they don’t hit quite as hard, and they don’t last quite as long…those are the gems God threw down in the flames along this fiery path and that I obediently picked up…whether I understood their importance at the time or not. Today is another day. And if I’m not tip-top…there’s tomorrow. It’s the nature of grief. It’s not even about Mr. Virgo himself, really. I’ve reconciled myself to the loss. No, this is like an echo of pain and memory that opens a door in your heart…for just a few moments. Just long enough to let pain leak out and spill on the scars like a wash of acid. So, you retreat and set about scrubbing up the mess. You don’t stuff it back in the hole. That makes it worse the next time. Instead, you sit with it. Roll it around between your fingers till it turns to dust, then you sweep it away and quietly close the door. Till the next time. ❤️

“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.” ‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭43:2‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Road Trip: Day Three

Sun, 09 Jul 2017 01:55:13 -0600

I had to say goodbye for now to my Girl Camper friends yesterday morning. I hit the road about 8:30 after enjoying coffee and breakfast burritos with the early birds. Hookup was easy and after doing my safety check and checking the air in my tires (thank you Jeremy and Stephany of RV Family Travel Atlas!) I was on the road in no time. I did find this new truck can’t tow nearly as fast or stable as the ole one. It must have something to do with that rear axle ration. It was still a little windy yesterday so that might have been a contributing factor. I can’t drive much over 60mph with this truck but then again, you shouldn’t tow over 65 anyway so it’s probably just as well. Maybe I’ll look at trucks in Colorado. The 373 rear axle ratio is much more available out there.

I really took it easy yesterday. At lunch time, I pulled into a rest area and had lunch and a little power nap. I stopped at Camping World and bought extension mirrors so I can see around the back of my camper. I also bought some covers for the bedroom windows. The first thing I did when I bought this camper is take out the valances and shades. I hated them. But, when I travel alone and nap in the rest areas by the truckers, I’d just as soon not be so visible from the outside. I bought some Command Hooks and two cat litter mats that were the perfect size. I stuck the hooks on the outside of the camper and hung the mats over the windows on the outside. That way I still get air circulation when I open the windows. Brilliant!

I pulled into another rest area at supper time and ate and stretched out again. I guess I needed to catch up with a little sleep. One thing I do when I drive is think about stuff. And I talk things over with God. It’s our special alone time. I was telling him how much I hated missing church this weekend. Especially since our pastor is coming back from vacation today. My plan for driving this trip was drive, stop, eat, nap, repeat. I really had no intention of camping in RV parks. When I was in Camping World, I saw the new RV Campground directory…their three inch thick book listing all the campgrounds that give a Good Sam discount as well as many other. I’ve always found it very helpful. When I woke up from my nap, Spirit told me to look in the book for the closest RV park. I know better than to question so I did and there was one three or four exits away called…get this…Grandpa’s Farm Campground. There were others, but that’s the one that jumped out at me. I called. They had one site left. I took it and was there in ten minutes. There was a group of about thirty people out on the front lawn playing bingo as I pulled in. Located right on the bank of a rushing stream, the sites were nicely spaced down at the end where I was parked. Full hookup with Wifi was $34.50 with the Good Sam discount, tax included. As I was signing in, I noticed on the map “This campground is run by a Christian family.” Camp Church is at 8:30 in the morning…free coffee and donuts at 8:15! Isn’t God good to provide a safe, clean place with church in the great outdoors?

I took advantage of the full hookups to do some housekeeping last night. The tanks needed emptying and I hooked up to city water, turned on the hot water heater, and took probably the best shower of my life. And that did me in for the night. I always write my posts at night before I go to bed. I have to get into the Word when I write and search for the perfect scripture to go with it so this becomes my evening meditation. Another day safe, and closer to my babies. Mr. FixIt arrived safely in Florida last evening so I am very grateful for that as well. Have a happy Sunday! ❤️

“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.” ‭‭Romans‬ ‭15:13‬ ‭NIV‬‬

That One Day in June

Mon, 26 Jun 2017 01:55:06 -0600

There’s one day in June. It’s perfect. The temp hovers at 80 with a nice breeze. The puffy clouds float in a clear, blue sky. The green is ever so slightly past the bright apple green of spring but not nearly the darker green that come with July’s heat. A green that is so intense and so pervasive you feel EVERYTHING is chock full of chlorophyll. From the moment you rise to the time to rest your head on the pillow again, the day is chock-a-block full of fun summer activities. Yesterday was just such a day!

It began, of course, with church. Pastor Justin was away so the team leaders each came forward and spoke about the mission statement and the various guidelines our church works toward. It was informative and encouraging. Afterward, I changed into shorts (I still cannot force myself to wear shorts to church!) and headed to the park to walk. When I got out of the truck I saw a huge crowd and realized there was a car show going on. What a treat to walk around and talk to these auto enthusiasts and run into folks I know! Once I had seen all the cars and trucks, I walked two miles. As I did my laps and passed the baseball field, two teams started to warm up for an afternoon game. I stopped and watched a bit. Then I went to Marietta for a late lunch of Mexican food. I drove my friend home and headed out to the parsonage at the Methodist Church in Smithville for the going-away party being held in honor of Pastor Matthew and his fiancé, Felicia. It was bittersweet telling them goodbye. I have grown quite fond of them both but I know I will see them in Ohio. It was wonderful to share stories of how God is working in all of our lives and to spend a couple of hours win fellowship with some wonderful people that I have met through the local Revivals.

I drove home in a soft rain then watched the sky turn scarlet as the sun set. It was a day to remember. I love those best. ❤️

“He told them this parable: “Look at the fig tree and all the trees. When they sprout leaves, you can see for yourselves and know that summer is near. Even so, when you see these things happening, you know that the kingdom of God is near. “Truly I tell you, this generation will certainly not pass away until all these things have happened. Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will never pass away.” ‭‭Luke‬ ‭21:29-33‬ ‭NIV‬‬

There is Hope

Thu, 22 Jun 2017 01:55:43 -0600

If you are grieving, please know there is hope…for healing, for brighter days, for joy. Those of us who have walked this particular journey know full well the feelings of hopelessness that come in the dark of night. We know how hard it is to find the motivation to do the simplest of everyday tasks like personal grooming, cleaning house, cooking. Preparing a meal becomes Herculean. Brushing your teeth is as daunting as climbing Everest. Balancing your checkbook is something you did in a former life…you know, that time back in the day when your brain functioned as it should.

When you are slogging through the midst of this madness called grief, it is easy to lose hope that things will ever get better. After all, how could they without your special person? I know, when I lost Mr. Virgo, my world came crashing in at my feet and I swore I would never feel anything but the crushing pain of loss. I was so tired, so depressed, so angry, so fearful. In the picture on the left, my eyes were puffy from crying all the time. I didn’t sleep. I didn’t eat right. I didn’t exercise. It was all I could do to breathe…and I didn’t even do that very well. Do you remember what it felt like to not be able to take in a deep breath? I sighed..a lot. That’s actually a physiological response to grief.

I was a Christian before I lost Mr. Virgo. One of the “hidden gems in the flames” of grief has been a closer relationship with God. That depth of love has brought me through the darkest days of my life. I cannot imagine how I could have possibly survived this without my faith. There were long nights where sleep simply would not come and anxiety would have me paralyzed and physically ill. I tried everything to make it stop. There were nights I thought about the gun in the cupboard. About how easy it would be to just end this suffering. But…I simply could not do that. After having suffered a near-fatal overdose during a severe depression seventeen years ago, and seeing the devastation that caused my family, I knew full well that would never be my way out. No, somehow I had to find a way to get through this.

I remember nights when I couldn’t pray. I couldn’t form words. All I could do was moan in pain. I would close my eyes and visualize Jesus. I would picture him sitting on a bench in a beautiful garden…his robes as white as snow, his dusty sandals strapped to his road-worn feet. I couldn’t speak before him. All I could do was moan…my pain escaping from my throat in guttural gasps. And when I would look at him, he showed me such compassion. He held his arms out to welcome me into his presence. I walked forward and collapsed at his feet and laid my head upon his knee and sobbed. And he would gently stroke my hair and console me. He loved me as a father…as a brother. He poured his mighty love and light over me and washed away the pain for that particular night with the sincere promise that I could come back any time for more. He is always there…my comforter, my rock. And now look…he poured SO much love and light into me, it flows outward. I finally fully understand the phrase, “My cup runneth over.”

If I bring you anything with my words, let me bring you hope. Hope for brighter days. Hope for sleep-filled nights. Hope for healing. Hope for joy. I couldn’t have done this alone. I have my writing. I have you all. I have the love of friends and family. And I have Jesus. Jesus makes me shine. He most definitely makes me shine. Ok…Rodan & Fields skincare helps, too…but it’s mostly Jesus! ❤️

“In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans. And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for God’s people in accordance with the will of God.” ‭‭Romans‬ ‭8:26-27‬ ‭NIV‬‬

#RFGoNaked

Beyond Coincidence

Tue, 20 Jun 2017 01:55:20 -0600

I know I have been delving into matters of faith a lot the last few weeks. I know there is a delicate balance between what people are willing to listen to and that point where they shut down and say, “Yeah, ok. I’ve heard enough of this.” And they move on. I get it. I really try not to get preachy here because matters of faith are highly personal. And, since I am wont to do, I often share highly personal things here…much to the chagrin of some of my family and friends. Sometimes what I talk about might make you uncomfortable. That’s ok. Feeling uncomfortable once in a while is good. It makes us think. It helps us to question and make choices. The things I tell you about my experiences in my faith, I tell because there is someone out there who has questions but are afraid to ask. I tell you these things because I am amazed at how God works in my life, even as I have come to expect it. That being said, let me tell you what happened in my world yesterday.

First, I’ll go back a little. You know how I’ve been working on my social media platform. My agent wants to see my numbers go higher. I’ve been doing everything I can and asking for God to open doors for me. And steadily, the numbers trickle in. One new like. Three. None for weeks. Two. Slow and steady. I was feeling impatient. I could see where God was leading me, but I just wasn’t seeing the results I wanted. It was really frustrating. Then I went to Revival. And I learned to start every single prayer with “Thank you, Lord…for every provision.” I praise him and thank him for this and that…naming specific things. Then, and only then, do I enter into the action-word portion of my plea. This is what I think I need. How can I better serve you? What do you need of me? I knock on the door of God’s heart and ask him to bring me the words he wants me to say and the people who need to hear them. I ask him to Bless me, indeed. Expand my territory. Walk with his hand over me and keep evil far from me so that I may not feel pain. And I went to Revival. I was anointed. There was the laying of hands on me. Fervent prayers were made on my behalf. I received the gift of the Holy Spirit. I developed new friendships in faith. I entered into a faith-filled community and came out changed.

I told you yesterday that I went to the little white church on the hill to say farewell to the young Pastor Matt. I told you he had helped me access places deep within. The prayers over me in the last several weeks have been focused on my writing, my blog, my ministry. Fear was driven from me in some weird supernatural way that I still can’t quite understand. Then Sunday, Pastor Matt anointed us all one last time to help us get whatever we need, whatever we are searching for. He prayed on our behalf. His prayer Sunday was for a huge opportunity. As a matter of fact, I think he said something like, “Something big is coming, girl. Like, soon.” Soon. Ok, how about 27 hours? I received an email yesterday from the reporter who interviewed me for the New York Times a little over a year ago. Now, this woman has been on my mind for the last two or three weeks. I’d pick up my phone to send her a text to check in. You know, to put myself in the front of her mind in case she’s working on a story she can use me in. That New York Times article was a huge boost for my blog. But, just as soon as I would start to look up her e-mail address, Spirit would whisper. “Put it down. She knows. She remembers.” And I would put down the phone and go on. Yesterday, she sent me an e-mail saying she’s working on an article about widowhood and retirement for a large financial company for their online magazine and could she use me in this article. Yes, she remembered me. She reads my blog. I am honored because she is a very prolific, well known author. I am honored she wants to include me again. But I am most of all…blessed. Indeed. I’m getting another opportunity to expand my territory. And God most certainly walks with his hand over me and keeps evil far from me.

When I replied, I told her that she has been on my mind the last few weeks. I told her the timing couldn’t have been more perfect because I need to boost these social medial numbers. She wrote back and said this online magazine is read by 1,000,000+ readers over the age of 50. Wow. Just…wow. I had to tell you. I had to share with you. This is how God is working in my life. I come expecting great things. I see the provision come and it stuns me. Coincidence? Some of you may think so. Planetary alignment? My moon is in Aquarius? My chakras are aligned? You may think that. But I know. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt who orchestrated this. This is a God thing…plain and simple. Thank you, Jesus. ❤️

“Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?” ‭‭Matthew‬ ‭6:26‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Weekend Walkabout

Mon, 19 Jun 2017 01:55:26 -0600

We are truly knee-deep in June now here in West Virginia. We’ve been getting some rain finally. But oh my…it has been so hot so now it’s muggy. It is a pleasure to lay in front of an open window at night, though. When the cool of the evening comes in and you pull a quilt up to your chin, it makes for divine sleeping weather.

I went to town for the last Saturday evening service at my church till fall. I love going on Saturday night, going out to dinner with a friend afterwards, then taking a long walk by the river as the day cools off. It was a perfect evening.

As I write this, the thunder is rolling on the surrounding hills. I love thunderstorms! So far we have been really lucky and haven’t lost electricity. The cats are sitting at opposite ends of the porch. Old Mama Kitty has her nose out of joint because I scooted her away when she tried to jump up on me. She has never done that so I suppose I am now officially the Food Goddess of the tribe. I wouldn’t mind giving her a cuddle, but fleas and ticks have been a problem in the past and I found I was out of flea treatment when I looked. I must put that on my list.

The turkeys are calling in the bottom across the road. A pair of cardinals are chasing each other around the locust flowers. An Eastern Bluebird has made his appearance the last few evenings and sits on the phone line a few feet from me as if he has no place better to be. Mr. Virgo has always sent me bluebirds. This one showed up the day I brought “Joy” home. His official seal of approval.

I went to church at the little white church on the hill yesterday so I could say farewell to young Pastor Matt. He is taking a new charge, and a new wife we found out yesterday, to a small town north of Cleveland. I have grown quite fond of that young man. He has helped me reach something deep inside that has never been touched. I feel filled by the Holy Spirit through deep, fervent prayer and anointing. The last night I attended Revival, I was facing a situation coming up that normally would fill me with fear and dread and anxiety. I needed to be absolutely at the top of my game last week to help a friend through a scary medical procedure. At the altar call, I went forward and knelt and prayed that God would remove this fear from me completely so that I could be of service to my friend. I had no sooner knelt down when I felt hands on my back and shoulders. Pastor Matt’s father is a pastor as well and he put his arm around my shoulders and started praying loudly over me. Exultant, exuberant, fervent pleas went up asking for exactly what I was silently praying for. He shouted, “Lord, bring this sister the strength and courage she needs to go through what she is faced with this week. Let her be strong and fearless as she marches through what she needs to do!” This went on and on. I was stunned. How did he know? I felt like I had the wind knocked out of me and I could do nothing but bask in this praise and prayer surrounding me. I was totally drained when I got up and went back to my seat. And you know what? From that moment on, any dread, any anxiety, any fear left me completely. I helped my friend get through the procedure as though I’d had a sedative, I kid you not. It was downright supernatural. I want more of that. How could you not want more of that?

I’m loving this space that I’m in right now. I’m walking in love and light and Spirit. It’s incredibly peaceful. As I sign off for the night, the lightning bugs are rising, the rain is falling, and the thunder rolls. I hope you have a wonderful Monday. Make a choice to have a good week. Lift people up. Pay it forward. Be good and kind to one another. Life is a beautiful thing…really appreciate it while you’ve got it. ❤️

“When the apostles in Jerusalem heard that Samaria had accepted the word of God, they sent Peter and John to Samaria. When they arrived, they prayed for the new believers there that they might receive the Holy Spirit, because the Holy Spirit had not yet come on any of them; they had simply been baptized in the name of the Lord Jesus. Then Peter and John placed their hands on them, and they received the Holy Spirit.” ‭‭Acts‬ ‭8:14-17‬ ‭NIV

Getting Filled Up

Wed, 07 Jun 2017 01:55:17 -0600

Whew! Revival…can you stand some more? The young evangelist who led the Revival at Grandma’s church a few weeks ago has four churches in his charge. At the ripe old age of 26 or so, this guy is a crackerjack, for sure. He’s leading a Revival in a church in a neighboring community this week. I was able to attend the last couple of nights and let me tell you, it was just as powerful (if not more so) as the first one I attended.

As I sat listening to this young man preach and I looked over the attendees, I got this vision of a bunch of baskets. I’d go back to listening, then pretty soon I’d be thinking about baskets again. As I drove home, I slowly made my way through the twists and turns of country roads, watching for deer and any other critters. I no sooner pulled out on the two-lane blacktop when the baskets were back. So, I did what I always do when something incessantly niggles at my brain and I can’t get rid of it. I had a conversation with God.

Me: OK, Lord…what’s with the baskets?

God: Wait a minute…is that any way to start out a conversation with me? What were you just telling the good folks at church? Something about “thanks”, I think it was.

Me: You’re absolutely right…Lord, thank you for never having your phone off the hook when I call you! Thank you for always being there and for the blessings you give me. I’m confused though. Why are you showing me baskets?

God: Look at these baskets. They’re all different shapes, all different sizes. They have different patterns, different colors. They have one thing in common…they are woven. They can carry lots of things. Eggs, vegetables, flowers, stones. But, what if I were to ask you to carry water from my well in one of these baskets? Could you do that?

Me: Of course not…they are woven. There are holes in them. The water would run right through!

God: That’s right…it would. You are like a basket. You are woven together in exactly the way I patterned you. All the people of the world are like baskets. They are as different as fingerprints. And, they all have holes in them. You are a thirsty people. When you take your basket to the well, you can’t carry the water you need to quench that thirst. It falls on the ground.

Me: Ok. I can see that. I still don’t understand what you’re getting at.

God: I am the most important water…the Living Water. That is the only Water that flows from MY well. Would you have the Living Water spill out on the ground and be wasted?

Me: No! Of course not! But how can I keep that from happening if I’m a basket full of flaws and holes?

God: Ahhhh…I’m glad you asked! It’s very simple, really. You have to line the basket with something waterproof. Something that will plug up the leaks so you can carry my Living Water within you.

Me: What would do that? What could I use?

God: The recipe is simple. You start out with a good strong base of Obedience. Then you spread on a thick layer of Faith. Top that off with a whole bunch of Prayer and you’ll have a strong, waterproof lining that will carry my Living Water. Then you can drink to your heart’s content and quench that thirst you’ve been carrying around with you.

Me: What if my basket springs a leak?

God: The enemy will try to poke holes in your basket at every turn. You must always be vigilant. I have given you power…super powers to be exact. Your words are mighty weapons. Speak life into your situation. Tell the enemy to stay away from you and leave your basket alone!

Me: As simple as that?

God: As simple as that.

We complicate life. We worry. We suffer anxiety at every turn. When we use our words to speak life into our lives, darkness has no choice but to flee. When we create a waterproof lining, we can carry anything…Water, light, precious gems of goodness. Watch how you think. Then watch how you speak. Speak love and light and life into your lives. You’ll march through the crises of your lives much quicker when you plug up the leaks. ❤️

““Everyone then who hears these words of mine and does them will be like a wise man who built his house on the rock. And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on the rock. And everyone who hears these words of mine and does not do them will be like a foolish man who built his house on the sand. And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell, and great was the fall of it."” ‭‭Matthew‬ ‭7:24-27‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Rose Colored Glasses or Keeping the Faith?

Mon, 29 May 2017 01:55:06 -0600

It’s difficult to keep faith in humanity when the world looks like it does today. There are bad…evil bad people in the world but they are the drops in the ocean. We are tricked into thinking all of humanity has gone to hell in a hand basket when indeed they have not. There are plenty of wonderful, loving people in the world. I’m not going to go on a political rant here. I just want you to keep in mind there is a reason politicians and media keep the pot stirred up. It’s easier to keep control of a fearful crowd. Keep your eyes open. Look for the love. Look for the good. Send out positive, uplifting energy. Raise the vibration of the world. If you are the praying sort, pray with all your might that we are saved from he who would do us harm. We know how this ends. The light banishes the darkness. It is written. It is physics and metaphysics. It is biblical. When I get discouraged I read my bible first. That’s where I find the most comfort and encouragement. Then I look for quotes of famous peace brokers like Gandhi, Rumi and the like. They help me reboot and keep moving towards a peaceful planet. That and calling my congressmen with my concerns. That’s about all I can do.

Today is Memorial Day. Let us look past the angry rhetoric today and honor those who have fought for our freedom. Let us be fully awake and remember. Thank you to all those who have given their all to this country.

In memory of my uncle…George Melvin (Sonny) Chadock, who died in a plane crash 5/5/55 ❤️

“And let the peace that comes from Christ rule in your hearts. For as members of one body you are called to live in peace. And always be thankful.” ‭‭Colossians‬ ‭3:15‬ ‭NLT‬‬

My Resting Place

Wed, 17 May 2017 01:55:55 -0600

Last week there were two mornings where the temperature hovered just a tad above freezing. I was so happy that my flowers and the cherry trees didn’t get nipped by Old Jack Frost. And just like that, the temps soared up to the 80’s yesterday. When it gets like that, it’s too hot to sit on the front porch after the sun crosses the house and starts its decent over the far ridge. It doesn’t go behind that ridge till just before 7:00, but after that…the porch is my domain again.

I struggled a little yesterday. Loss encroached into the periphery of my life over the weekend and even though it didn’t affect my inner circle, sometimes other people’s loss stirs my own feelings. I so seldom have a bad day anymore. Really. I can certainly tell when I wake up, which way the winds will blow, and yesterday was a little stormy. Not bad. Not nearly like I’ve had in the past. My grief has always gone out through the pit of my stomach and I have learned to just let it pass. I’ve learned to listen to my body and give myself permission to have a mattress-surfing day. I had my “Emergency Down-Day Kit” at the ready. I rode the wave back into shore and as the house cooled, so did I.

Riding that wave and finding my resting place reminded me of those long, dark early nights of grief when I would have what I referred to as…bad nights. There were nights when the only way I made it through was to visualize sitting at the feet of Jesus, resting my head on his knee, and letting him stroke my hair the way my mother did when I was a child. I knew that I was God’s child, and that my resting place was in that place in my heart where Christ lives. There was a woman who came to sing at the Revival last week. She sang a song she wrote about finding her resting place in Jesus. It is comforting to me when I learn I am not alone in this journey…that there are others who have struggled, who struggle still, and that I’m really ok.

My grief is different now. It’s fleeting. It’s temperate. It’s diffuse. It’s not even filled with Mr. Virgo like it was. It’s more like a cloud of sadness that settles for a little bit then lifts and moves on. If I let myself delve too deep, I could stir up too many things and I’ve learned that doesn’t serve me well. I’ve also learned it doesn’t hurt me to indulge myself in this bit of reverie. It’s a giant emotional yardstick that illustrates how far I’ve come since March 12, 2013. It will always be there. I don’t know what stirred it this time…probably the loss I’ve seen in others lately. Today is a new day…I have tools…I have hope…I have love…I have God. What more could I need? ❤️

““Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”” ‭‭Matthew‬ ‭11:28-30‬ ‭NIV

The Well Worn Bible

Mon, 15 May 2017 01:55:58 -0600

Last night was the eighth and final, night of the Revival at the little white church on the hill. I missed two nights but was happy I got to attend last night.

Pastor Matt sent us out with renewed faith and refreshed spirits. We often reach places in our faith where we sleepwalk and just go through the motions. The purpose of Revival is to wake us up, to learn, and to get a fire in our bellies. Mission accomplished. So many little churches are withering up because the elders are dying off and the young people aren’t attracted by the dryness that is so often the hallmark of the services.

When you get fired up and you step into the Light…that darkness will do whatever it takes to bring you down. I’ve seen it happen in my own life too many times to doubt the validity. True to form..in the span of five hours I was slapped hard in three different directions. I won’t go into details because they aren’t my stories to tell, but there was evil and darkness attached to two of them, as plain as day. The third was a friend suffering an injury in an accident. I don’t back down. I won’t be scared back into the shadows. I stand strong.

I am comforted by the picture above. A woman who attended the Revival was walking out last night when I caught a glimpse of her well worn Bible. I called her back and snapped this picture. This is the book that brings this woman the most comfort. This book is written with living words. You can read a verse a hundred times and it takes on a different meaning each time. I’ve learned a lot this week. I’ve opened up a lot, felt a lot, laughed a lot, cried a lot. I’ve been healed and set free of bonds that wore me down. I shared my story with others. I woke up. May I never go to sleep again. ❤️

“You are of God, little children, and have overcome them, because He who is in you is greater than he who is in the world.” ‭‭I John‬ ‭4:4‬ ‭NKJV‬‬

The Fruit of the Vine

Sun, 14 May 2017 01:55:40 -0600

I went to my home church last night. You all are going to think that’s all I do. It isn’t…but this was Revival week so every night but Friday night has been spent in church so that’s what you get with your morning coffee. My home church is wonderful. It meets in a warehouse. It started out just two short years ago with 127 people. Now we regularly serve over 1300 people in three services every weekend. 1259 Salvations. 226 Baptisms. 2556 VIP’s (new attendees who fill out a visitor card). They have a great Praise Team and the pastors are a husband and wife team who do a wonderful job. Because the Sunday services are standing room only, the pastor asked for volunteers to come to the Saturday night services to give the new people a chance to come in and find a seat. Isn’t that a wonderful “problem” to have? We are in the process of buying a huge warehouse so we can have a seating capacity of 1300 per service. I love it!

Last night, in honor of Mother’s Day, the pastor’s wife gave the sermon. She delivered a great message and talked about the Fruit of the Spirit…love, joy, peace, forbearance (patience), kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. When we receive the Holy Spirit, we need to nurture these fruit as the attributes of a Christian. We all can use practice in these areas. I’m willing to bet, forbearance and self-control will be the highest on most people’s list. We are a self-indulgent people and patience is a virtue that is not easily attained in today’s world. With any fruit-bearing vine, good care is needed to produce the best fruit. A barren vine needs to be pruned in order for the plant to produce it’s best. Sometimes we have to lop off those unproductive parts of ourselves…those things in our lives that do not serve us and actually do harm. Pruning these things away is difficult and oftentimes downright painful. But, we will be the better for it.

Tonight I go back for the last night of Revival. Can’t wait to give you the report tomorrow! Happy Mother’s Day…and on behalf of your moms, give us a call today. If she’s gone…my heart is with you. It’s so hard to lose your mother. You’ll never regret being good to your mom! ❤️

“But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control…” ‭‭Galatians‬ ‭5:22-23‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Caught in a Trap

Sat, 13 May 2017 01:55:58 -0600

This has turned out to be a really intense and power-filled week for me. I have been attending an old-time Gospel, Spirit-filled Revival this week at the little white church on the hill and I’m telling you what…it’s been both exhilarating and exhausting. I don’t even feel like myself. I’m sure you’ve noticed my fired-up posts this week. I don’t usually go all preachy like that, but I’ve been just feeling so inspired all week and I’ve learned to listen. With that in mind, today’s post is toned down a bit but still faith-based, as all my essays are. I noticed my numbers dropped off a little after yesterday’s post. I know…not everyone wants to have religion with their coffee. I get that. There will be plenty of travel stories and farm stories and memories to share down the road. This is Revival week, and since I write about what I’m experiencing every day, this is what you get this week.

I went out for my morning walkabout yesterday. Out of nowhere, Boy Cat made a beeline for me and started rubbing all over my legs. He has never, ever done that (see the video from yesterday) and he tagged along with me for most of my walk. I took a bunch of pictures of all the wildflowers that are currently blooming. I walked down the road to visit a neighbor. As I was strolling along, I noticed this wasp trap hanging in a tree. If you look inside the trap, there…hanging at the top…is a wasp on a nest. Inside the trap. It reminded me of something young Pastor Matt preached about this week. God v. Satan, Light v. Dark, Good v. Evil…whatever you call it, light banishes darkness, not the other way around. I know in my journey, I ran as far away from a relationship with Jesus as I possibly could. For some reason, God was ok…but Jesus scared me. Probably because of that hellfire and brimstone preacher of my youth. I mean, I felt Jesus knocking at the door of my heart…politely waiting to be invited in. But, I would get so anxious and worked up about it, I could only go in the other direction to avoid the whole thing. Little did I know at the time, surrender would have been the ticket to freedom from all that.

As my journey took me further and further away from God, I became more and more blind, more and more deceived by the darkness. Once I got so far out to sea and turned around to look for my saving Grace, I realized how far from shore I really was. I was in a trap of my own making…believing the lies, living my life, building my nest there…much like this unsuspecting wasp is. Living in that trap wasn’t all that bad on the surface. I had a nice house. I had a new car every couple of years. I had an essentially unmonitored bank account. On the surface, I had everything. But on the inside, I was a barren wasteland. I was living in the Sahara Desert with no water…no food…no spiritual sustenance. The Darkness can lure you in with comforts then it closes the door and locks it and you can never get out. I am blessed to have found my way back before It was too late.

The path I’m walking hasn’t been one I’d necessarily have chosen for myself. I never wanted to be a widow. I gave up a lot to get to where I am. Aside from Mr. Virgo’s death, I wouldn’t change a thing because I’m in a good space right now. I’m not living in a trap anymore. I have shed the chains that bound me. And I’m living free…standing on the promises of God.

I missed Revival last night and will again tonight because of a prior commitment. I’ll go back Sunday night for the grand finale, though. I’m going to my church with a friend tonight to avoid the Sunday crowds and then out for dinner to celebrate Mother’s Day early. It’s still cool and cloudy and raining here. May is like that. I hope you have a grand start to your weekend, dear ones! ❤️

“The LORD is near to all who call on him, to all who call on him in truth.” ‭‭Psalm‬ ‭145:18‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Weeding My Garden

Thu, 11 May 2017 01:55:50 -0600

Well, I went to Revival again last night. I do not believe I have ever in my life felt the energy in that little church that I have felt this week. I’m talking fire. Whew! You do come away with a spring in your step after a big dose of the toe-tappin’ spirit. I tried to imagine my Grandma and Pop-Pop, my mom, Aunt Idy, Uncle Red, Aunt Myrt…sitting in their seats, listening. They were all so…reserved. Let me tell you…these beautiful people were anything but reserved.

Pastor Matthew opens with song and prayer, then invites anyone who would like to speak to please do so. Last night, a lovely couple were there and the gentleman rose to say something. He’s a hobby farmer. He raises cattle so he can see them, not eat them. He names them. His first cow he called “Blessings”. Two more came along and he named them “Shirley Goodness” and “Mercy”. There are more…all named with Biblical phrases. And, when he goes out to call in his cows, neighbors from far and wide hear him calling…“Surely Goodness and Mercy, Blessings” and so forth. It is his form of testimony within earshot of his neighbors.

The man’s wife then stood to talk about her land. She helps her husband outside as she can. There is some Floribunda growing out in the pasture. It’s a kind of wild rose…its brambles used as a hedge row instead of fencing. It seemed like a good idea to our forefathers to plant such a thing, but they didn’t realize it would soon take over. And, it’s not good for anything…the cows can’t eat it. Something so seemingly innocent ended up needing to be rooted out. The wise woman with her gentle demeanor and her long silver hair reminded us that there are things we let into our lives…things that didn’t seem like such a bad idea till they turned into a pasture full of briars. Then you have to start plucking it out and getting rid of it. Once bad things get a foothold, it isn’t long till you have a mess in your life.

I distinctly remember a particular day in my life when I made an unsavory life choice. That still small voice told me, “Don’t do this. You do this and nothing will ever be the same.” Oh, we’re a stubborn people, aren’t we? “You can handle it.” “It’s just this once.” “Nobody will know.” Lies. Lies whispered into our lives. Light and Dark. Up and Down. Good and Evil. It’s a balancing act. It’s a constant battle. I fall down sometimes. I wimp out because it’s not always easy. If there’s anything I’ve learned this week in the most unlikely of places for me to be, it’s this…I have far more strength and power than I ever dreamed of. We all have access to that power. It’s a gift. For me, that gift is the Holy Spirit and I’m grateful to have had this experience this week. It’s been empowering. ❤️

“Come and hear, all you who fear God, And I will declare what He has done for my soul.” ‭‭Psalms‬ ‭66:16‬ ‭NKJV‬‬

Busy as a Bee

Wed, 10 May 2017 01:55:02 -0600

Yesterday was a mowing marathon. I no sooner finished till the rains came. I barely finished before it was time to head to church again. Revival. Who knew I’d enjoy it so much. I have to say, I truly have never experienced anything quite like this. Last night’s sermon was about the Holy Ghost. I never really understood the Holy Spirit till just the last few years. There’s a contingent of women attending this Revival who have a more Pentecostal background and I mean to tell ya, it got downright lively last night. I felt exhilarated when I came out of there.

As I was mowing yesterday, I was mulling over the events of the past couple of years. I’ve suffered from anxiety issues for much of my life. I remember my first panic attack in second grade. I was thinking while I mowed about the anointing I had the first night of the Revival and I wondered if I could have Pastor Matt pray over me about those anxieties. Then I just had this really clear vision that I have the power to keep that at bay by simply speaking it into truth. I have experienced the dark come at me when I step strongly into the Light. I turned and looked around me and made a decision. I walked the boundary of the yard and declared my borders. I declared out loud that no evil thing can cross this boundary. I turned to the house and raised my hands and asked God to bless this house and all who enter…their coming and their going. I must have looked like a crazy woman standing out there in the yard, hands up, talking out loud. But, you know what? I didn’t care! I’m tired of those dark things chasing me and nipping at my heels. So, I rebuked them. And it felt good. I felt so peaceful afterwards.

Then I finished mowing.

I discovered something very cool at Lowe’s the other day. Wood borer bee traps. And, they work! I have one on the front porch. I put it up after I filled the borer bee hole with silicone caulk. I have another for the back porch. In the meantime, I had to prepare my notes for today. I’m being interviewed for another podcast episode on Janine Pettit’s show…Girl Camper. We’re going to be talking about camping in Colorado. I’ll let you know when it goes live. In the meantime, Happy Wednesday! ❤️

“Then Jesus said to him, “Away with you, Satan! For it is written, ‘You shall worship the LORD your God, and Him only you shall serve.’ ”” ‭‭Matthew‬ ‭4:10‬ ‭NKJV‬‬

Old Time Religion

Mon, 08 May 2017 01:55:05 -0600

Some of my earliest memories surround the little white church on the hill a couple miles from the farm. We only had a handful of people come every Sunday. We had a circuit preacher who came every six weeks or so. You dressed for church back then. And you dressed extra special on preaching Sunday. We got a stick of Beeman’s gum, or maybe Juicy Fruit, to keep our little mouths fresh…and busy. Grandma tied a shiny dime in the corner of a hanky and gave it to us for the collection plate. We were threatened within an inch of our lives to be good. You never, ever wanted to cross Grandma.

We were never made to go to a Revival. Maybe Grandma knew that was too much to ask from a little girl as fidgety as me, I don’t know. But that was one experience I never had. Since the hellfire and brimstone style of Preacher Simon scared me away from church at the ripe old age of seven, it was pretty much a moot point. I remember feeling intrigued by those tent revivals I saw popping up in rural areas, though. The big tents had no sides and bare light bulbs were strung above rows of white folding chairs. Earnest people crowded into standing-room-only tents and churches to do…something. Sing? Shout? Handle snakes and drink poison? What did I know? I heard stories. I didn’t want to have anything to do with it. Till last night. I’m using the word “want” loosely. I was certainly curious.

I got the call yesterday from my cousin/friend asking me to come to the Revival with the added caveat that Johnnie Staats was playing. I’d walk ten miles to see Johnny Staats play so since I had no other plans and I can always use a good dose of Jesus, I agreed to go. I arrived at 6:30 and visited with some old familiar faces till the music started at 7:00. Johnny didn’t disappoint and it’s true…good Gospel music brings on the familiar goosebumps I attribute to faith experiences. The young pastor and the lead singer encouraged anyone who wanted to say something to speak up. After “Go Rest High on That Mountain”, I could not hold back the tears. I could literally feel the spirits of my ancestry joining in and rose to say so. I spoke of being born into that little church sixty-four years ago, how my Grandpa and his brother, Red, were the lay ministers when it wasn’t preaching Sunday, how my Uncle Bob rang the church bell without fail. Mine were not the only tears as others remembered those who have gone on before.

Finally, the young pastor got down to delivering a right sprightly sermon on the many names of God that was really quite interesting. It was fascinating to see the same jumping up and down, yelling style of that pastor of old through sixty-four year old eyes instead of that frightened little girl who peed her pants out of fear. I could look past some of the dogma differences in our particular denominations to enjoy the fellowship of kith and kin. At the end of three hours…yes, three hours…the altar call came. I’m a Christian. I have no problem with a good alter call. But I knew before the first notes of the song began that I was going to be called forward by the pastor. And that’s when things got really interesting.

I have never, ever been anointed. The pastor looked at me and smiled and said, “You knew you were coming up here the minute you walked in this door didn’t you? Girl, you got God all over you!” I looked in his kind eyes and felt my shoulders relax. I smiled wanly and nodded. The pastor took out a vial of oil and anointed the sign of the cross on my forehead. He got serious and said, “You’ve gone through some pretty rough stuff…hard stuff…stuff that you didn’t think you would live through, haven’t you? As a matter of fact, you almost died, didn’t you?” I swallowed hard and nodded again. “And you’re going through something really hard now…something that has a weight on you and your smile doesn’t always meet your eyes. You have a mission and sometimes you’re not feeling worthy. Well, let me tell you…you are! You are going to walk out of here renewed and refreshed with a smile the likes of which you haven’t felt for a long, long time. Are you ready to receive that?” At this point I was smiling through my tears with my hands raised and a dozen or more people were standing around me with their hands on me…all praying fervent prayers individually as the pastor grasped my head in both his hands and beseeched God to shower blessings on me and the ministry I have been placed here to do and that I be anointed from the top of my head to the soles of my feet. I am not lying…it was an exhilarating experience and I indeed felt refreshed and renewed in spirit. I felt twenty pounds lighter.

I can see how people can be whipped to a frenzy in churches of that style. Enough to handle snakes and drink strychnine? Perhaps. I am not passing judgement in any way. What I felt was love and light. The world needs more love and light. This isn’t my style…I love the contemporary church I attend. But, last night let me see my grandparents’ church through a new lens and let me release some of the bad memories I have always associated with it. Healing is a beautiful thing. ❤️

“Will you not revive us again, that your people may rejoice in you?” ‭‭Psalms‬ ‭85:6‬ ‭NIV

At Last...

Fri, 05 May 2017 01:55:41 -0600

I was sitting out on the front porch yesterday…drinking coffee, solving the crossword, checking in with friends, listening to the Norah Jones channel on Pandora, watching the spring showers blow through in waves. It’s been a crazy week with trips to town for one thing and another every day since I got back from my last trip. Yeah, I know…it’s rough. But, I was really relishing a few hours of peace and quiet before a friend arrived in the afternoon for a visit. It felt good to just BE for a little bit. Those moments always turn something on in my heart…like fine-tuning the dial on a radio to get the station perfectly clear.

I was lost in reverie when Etta James came on with her sultry, smooth voice…“At Last”. Oh…there was a time when the mere thought of that song made me burst into tears. That was the song Mr. Virgo and I danced to at our wedding. The one…and only…time he ever danced with me. I can still remember the way my hand rested in his, the sparkle in his eyes, the early spring sunshine slanting through the panes of glass in the sun room of the restaurant where we were married. I remember the way the smooth, black and white tiles felt beneath my feet as he gently guided me in a four foot square…not standing still but not really dancing either. Just moving and sharing a special moment.

I was so excited to marry that man. My second divorce had left me yearning for a loving connection, as if changing my name would be another chapter further into the story of my life…further away from the pain and heartbreak that had come before. Our relationship was sweet and trusting, a mutual love and respect that soothed my broken heart and made me whole again. Three weeks shy of six years later, my heart shattered again when he died right in front of me.

Yes, there was a time when this memory would have caught me off guard and I would have been reduced to a puddle of messiness and pain. And, I’m sure there will be a time in the future when it triggers something that will open that wound again. Not yesterday. Yesterday, I smiled and remembered the way his suit coat felt when I laid my hand on his chest as we danced, his strength and confidence a source of comfort to me. I could almost smell his Halston cologne. I wish I could remember what we said to each other in that moment but it is lost to me. I wish he had liked to dance. I love being held in a tall man’s arms.

I was brought back…to the porch, to myself, to this beautiful life I am living…by the stunning sweep of a Pileated Woodpecker landing on the dead tree stump in the front yard where I have the rain gauge. At last…I have come home to myself and I’m anchored in this moment without drifting back into the stormy abyss of grief like a sailor being washed from the deck in a restless sea. At last. ❤️

“You made me suffer a lot, but you will bring me back from this deep pit and give me new life. You will make me truly great and take my sorrow away.” ‭‭Psalms‬ ‭71:20-21‬ ‭CEVUS06‬‬

Gone From My Sight

Thu, 04 May 2017 01:55:09 -0600

They were Lucy and Ethel. Lucy, the clown, was the preschool teacher…much beloved by students, parents, and staff. Ethel, the straight woman, was the para in her classroom. They were a great team for twenty years and remained friends in the years since. Mutt and Jeff…peas and carrots…peanut butter and jelly.

When Ethel’s beloved husband died, it was Lucy who rallied the troops and gathered a whole box of joyful gifts and sent it to her. There were fuzzy pens and silly hats, coloring books and crayons…all manner of trinkets that spelled out “I love you”…wrapped in brightly colored tissue paper. Ethel’s mood was visibly lifted by these precious gifts as well as the explosion of color all round her on the kitchen floor. This was the nature of their love for each other.

Then Lucy got sick. She had an aggressive breast cancer and in spite of three courses of chemo, radiation that burned her severely, and a double mastectomy, it finally got to the point where all the poisons Lucy endured shut down her organs one at a time. When she finally got the word there was nothing left to do, she ordered up mimosas and gathered her best friends in her room for a songfest. Lucy didn’t give up easy. She fought to stay here…for her life, for her friends, but most of all, for her 17-year-old daughter. But, once they transferred her to a beautiful hospice room with a view of a dozen birdfeeders and family photos all around, it was literally only a couple of days before Lucy left her family and friends behind and went on her next Grand Adventure.

Ethel was bereft. She was just gaining a little footing after losing her husband four years ago and now she had to lose the other half of her…her Lucy. She spoke at the Celebration of Life and shared a poem at the end. It is a beautiful image of crossing over to the other side and I asked her permission to share it with you today.

I was sitting in my car when her text came in. I haven’t intruded this week. She needed her space to begin processing her grief and collect her thoughts before she reached out. She knew where to find me. I had just finished purchasing and shipping two huge tins of potato chips to MY Lucy. Friends since we were kids, my Lucy was everything I wanted to be…petite, blonde, tan, sassy. She could play the piano and sing. She’s having a health issue so I sent her some love from home in the form of the best, the ONLY, potato chip produced in West Virginia…Mr. Bee’s. I was waxing sentimental when my friend sent me this poem. It reduced me to tears right there in the parking lot. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.


Gone From My Sight

I am standing upon the seashore. A ship, at my side, spreads her white sails to the moving breeze and starts for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength. I stand and watch her until, at length, she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.

Then, someone at my side says, "There, she is gone."

Gone where?

Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast, hull and spar as she was when she left my side. And, she is just as able to bear her load of living freight to her destined port. Her diminished size is in me -- not in her.

And, just at the moment when someone says, "There, she is gone," there are other eyes on the far shore, watching her coming, and other voices ready to take up the glad shout, "Here she comes!"

~Henry Van Dyke ❤️

“and you will receive a rich welcome into the eternal kingdom of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.”
‭‭2 Peter‬ ‭1:11‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Photo Source: Pinterest

Slow and Steady

Tue, 02 May 2017 01:55:03 -0600

What happens when you hit the wall? When grief raises its ugly head and bites you in the butt? When you “wear the same jammies four days straight” and can’t get out of yourself like a friend of mine did recently? It happens. When you think you’re done with grief, that b**** will grab you by the short hairs and lay you low…just like that. So, what do you do?

Having an accountability partner helps. If you have that trusted friend, let him or her know if they don’t hear from you in “x” number of days, send in the troops. I knew my friend had “gone dark” and I was about to go roust her up and force feed her when she did it on her own.

I had a hard and fast rule…I simply would not allow myself more than two consecutive days of “mattress surfing”. If I had to crawl to the kitchen for coffee and do nothing but pull on sweats and run a brush through my hair, at least I had moved from the bed to the couch. Every little piece of progress adjusts your thinking and that adjusts your reality. I know, I know…much easier said than done in the throes of grief. Just do your best.

On the days that you are feeling good and upbeat, don’t let yourself forget what the dark feels like. Make yourself some care packages in preparation for those down days. Get a little gift bag or pretty tote. Fill it with a box of tissues, some good chocolate, a coloring book and crayons, a favorite magazine or two with lots of colorful, glossy pictures, a fresh pair of jammies and clean socks, a new toothbrush and a different flavor toothpaste, a little bottle of perfume, maybe a little makeup, a nice new tea and a new mug. You can get these things at the dollar store…they don’t have to be fancy…just readily available. If you do manage to get up, go straight to your kitchen sink and scrub it…whether you want to or not. There’s something about a shiny, clean sink that sets the tone. And, try making your bed if you manage to get up. It’s less inviting to jump back in when the bed is dressed and so are you.

There are days when it comes back as fresh and new as it was, this grief we have in common. But remember, when you slip…when you pull back in your shell… you aren’t going back quite as far as you were. Not back to the beginning. Hang in there. Stay vertical as much as you can. And treat yourself with the same kindness and compassion you would offer a dear friend. ❤️

“Dear friend, I pray that you may enjoy good health and that all may go well with you…” ‭‭3 John‬ ‭1:2‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Rock On!

Sat, 22 Apr 2017 01:55:54 -0600

Oh. Em. Geeeee. What a day! I finished packing and hit the road with a full cup of coffee by 10:00. I got to mile marker 82 in I-77 when traffic came to a dead stop. I mean like, get out of your car and meet your neighbors stop. One of the most important things I recommend for travel is a smartphone with access to the internet. While my GPS neglected to tell me there was traffic congestion on my route, Siri informed me there had been a truck fire and emergency crews were working to put it out. Three hours later , I drove past this charred hulk of a semi, a tanker truck still hosing down its contents strewn all over. I couldn’t tell for sure but it was loose bags of something orange. I stopped in Wytheville, Virginia for gas and found this painted rock. It’s all the rage right now…paint rocks and leave them places. When you find one, you take a picture of it and say where you find it, then you hide it again. I know a lot of people who do this and it’s fun. I’ll take it to the beach and leave it there.

I pressed on past Mount Airy where I had initially planned to stop but felt I needed to make up for lost time. I thought I could get a room near Winston-Salem but you couldn’t find a room within 100 miles of there due to a furniture show. North Carolina is big in the furniture manufacturing biz. Therefore, I ended up driving till 1:00am and found one of the last two rooms in North Carolina…if not the entire country! The wonderful lady at the front desk gave me a great deal for a large, comfy king-sized room and check out isn’t till noon….yessss!

The floaters in my eye bugged the heck out of me till it got dark. I’m told my brain will get used to the floaters and I won’t notice them. That can come now, please. With that, I’m closing and hitting the hay. Tomorrow (today!) is another day! ❤️

“You’ll travel safely, you’ll neither tire nor trip. You’ll take afternoon naps without a worry, you’ll enjoy a good night’s sleep. No need to panic over alarms or surprises, or predictions that doomsday’s just around the corner, Because GOD will be right there with you; he’ll keep you safe and sound.” ‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭3:23-25 MSG‬

Lord, Take Me Home in the Springtime

Wed, 19 Apr 2017 01:55:43 -0600

I hated burying my mom on the coldest day of the year. It was late January and while the sky was blue, there was a bitter wind blowing on that hilltop. My Aunt Rosie and I were the only ones at the cemetery. It was just too cold for any kind of formal gathering. I could not let them put her in the ground alone though. So, I stood with a borrowed coat wrapped tight beneath my chin, shivering in the thin, January light.

In contrast, Mr. Virgo died in the middle of March, which is a lot different in Colorado than it is here in West Virginia. Still, the day we laid him to rest, the sun was shining and it was warm enough for a light jacket. It’s funny the way your brain works when your beloved dies. I distinctly remember thinking if he had to die, at least he died in the spring when the earth was coming back to life. I didn’t have to lay him in the frozen ground. And I didn’t have to go into my grief and compound it with seasonal affective disorder. These are the things I think about while I’m driving.

A couple of nights ago, I slept out back in TOW-Wanda. While it was wonderful to be in the camper, it stormed all night long and the only thing I could think of was that huge, old cherry tree just outside the camper. Just like the message about the rockslide a couple weeks ago, I kept getting this feeling like I had to get TOW-Wanda out of there. I need to get this tree taken out before it falls on anything…or anyone…and they can’t get any equipment back up in there with my camper parked in the driveway. I have friends who have offered to let me park TOW-Wanda at their place, but I don’t want to impose, or ruin their grass, or disturb them with coming and going as I want to camp this spring and early summer. I found a place where I can store her securely and anytime I want to take her out to camp, they’ll pull her out for me and all I have to do is hook her up and go. Then, I drop her off, and they take her around back to park her. All for $35 a month. Perfect!

I decided I needed to get this done yesterday as we are supposed to get severe storms the next few days and I’m running out of time before I leave for the beach. Getting this huge trailer in and out of this long, narrow driveway is tricky. One of the biggest obstacles is the electric lines going up to the top of the cellar house. They hang low over the driveway. In the past, I’ve had someone hold them up with a broom while I backed under them. I didn’t have any helper yesterday and being the EVER resourceful woman that I am, I had to figure out how to do it myself. I took a long 1x2 that I found in the cellar, taped a walking stick to it, then taped the broom handle to that and…voila! It worked like a charm! The electric line nestled in the bristles of the broom and stayed right where I put it.

Now, backing up out of the driveway was interesting. I got down to the road but I was worried about hitting the pole on the other side of the driveway. It’s a pretty busy road for being so far out in the country and the only thing I could do was slowly back out onto the blacktop. I was almost all the way out when a guy in a pickup stopped and guided me those last few feet. Easy peasy! The new truck towed fine…just doesn’t have the torque like the old one had, which I expected.

I needed to get back to mow. As I drove through the hills, I rolled down the windows and the smell of the honeysuckle, lilac, dogwood, redbud, apple, peach, apricot, pear, and crabapple trees was so incredibly sweet. It was then that I sent up my plea to God. “When it is my time to go, please take me in the springtime so my last day will be filled with beauty such as this perfect West Virginia day.” That is all I ask. ❤️

“yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes. Instead you ought to say, “If the Lord wills, we will live and do this or that."” ‭‭James‬ ‭4:14-15‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Saying Goodbye to Sunshine

Sun, 16 Apr 2017 01:55:55 -0600

My friend Jamie is doing some really hard stuff this weekend. Her dear friend Angie is dying. Actively dying. Cancer is such a brutal disease. It robs everyone of time, health, dignity. There is nothing good about cancer. Yet, in this midst of dying, there can be moments of grace. Angie has a young daughter she won’t see graduate or marry or have babies. In some of her last lucid moments, she was able to dictate three letters to be given to her daughter on just those occasions. What a gift that will be for this young woman to have her mom reach out to her from beyond, just when she needs her most.

I think we all wish we had hidden letters from our moms. Letters that tell us how loved we are…how proud we made her…how she wishes she could be there but she’s watching from above. I can’t imagine losing my mom at seventeen. I know Angie’s friends will step up and be there for the important events. They’ll be sounding boards and support systems and surrogates. It’s going to be a rough go for everyone.

The only time I ever sat at someone’s bedside while they were dying was in support of a friend. Her grandmother was unresponsive in the nursing home. Being Jewish, my ex-husband and I were called to the bedside to recite the sh’ma (also called the shema)…the prayer sung over and over for the dying. We stayed till nearly dawn when we needed to get back home for the baby. An hour or so later, our friend called. When we saw the caller ID, we expected to hear her grandmother had died. Instead, we were greeted with laughter when we answered. It seems our friend was calling relatives to report the current status when the phone slipped off the night stand and fell crashing to the floor. Grandma sat bolt upright in bed and yelled, “$&@?@ €#£|$@….what does a person have to do around here to get a decent night’s sleep???” The dying often rally before the end. Angie did…after a night of everyone sitting around her bed, singing songs and praying…she woke up Friday morning singing “I’m Too Sexy For My Shirt”…much to everyone’s delight. At this writing, she is unresponsive again and it is just a matter of time. She…the owner of the megawatt smile. She…the fellow Gemini who met me once and became my lifelong friend. She…who will leave a giant hole in the hearts of all who knew her. Angie…who would love that I told you a funny story rather than cry about her dying. We honor those who touch our hearts.

See you on the other side, Sunshine. ❤️

“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.” ‭‭2 Corinthians‬ ‭1:3-4‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Anniversaries and Stuff

Fri, 07 Apr 2017 01:55:24 -0600

As is typical in the spring, yesterday was vastly different than the day before. Wednesday was a brilliant, sunny, warm spring day. After mowing the lawn, I sat in the sunshine on the porch and it got downright hot out there…80 degrees! Yesterday? Not so much. As the south braced for another day of severe weather, we received the aftereffects of the storm front as it came through. It was wet, grey and cold. The thermometer on the front porch hovered at 40° all afternoon and I was chilled through and through.

I hit the taxes hard yesterday, determined I was going to struggle through them and finish so I wouldn’t have that hanging over my head all weekend. Thank goodness for TurboTax. It’s almost foolproof because there’s no way I can make heads or tails of the old way of doing them. Grief brain has changed the way my brain functions. That, and age. I just don’t have the patience. As it was, it took me a week and a half to get everything done. I swear every year I’ll be more organized but there I was again…searching through my newly updated and balanced check register, recording all my deductions.

I always sit in my rocking chair in front of the dining room window when I write my blog post. As I sat gazing out at the ever greening countryside, listening to the steady hiss of a gentle rain on the tin roof, I sipped my afternoon tea and contemplated how different my life is now. Ten years ago today, I married Mr. Virgo. Ten years. A decade has gone by in the blink of an eye. Well, no…not really. It seems absolutely forever ago since that day, yet I remember it so well. We had been having daily snow storms leading up to the wedding and it was planned for outdoors. I was thrilled when it turned into a lovely, warm spring day.

It’s supposed to be very cold here today…weather that doesn’t match my psyche these days. I’m in a good space. I have much to look forward to. I have people to love and to love me back. I have purpose and peace. I could sit here and feel sorry for myself. I could let my mind wander down a rabbit hole. But that does me no good. Today I take my truck in to get it worked on. Today I have things to do. Today I have a beautiful life and my cup is full. I’ll still think of that handsome man from time to time on this momentous day. But I’ll do it with a smile. ❤️

“Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends. As for prophecies, they will pass away; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will pass away.” ‭‭1 Corinthians‬ ‭13:4-8‬ ‭ESV‬‬

People are People

Tue, 04 Apr 2017 01:55:24 -0600

When I was growing up, I found some photos in my grandma’s buffet. I didn’t understand what they were so I stuck them in my pocket and set off to find her. I needed an explanation. The pictures were of two water fountains with a sign over them. One said “White”. The other said “Colored”. I didn’t get it. There was no difference that I could see. When I found my grandma, I showed her the picture and asked her what was the difference between the two water fountains. Grandma took the picture and saw what it was. Her shoulders slumped and she looked at me with a sadness around her eyes. She sat down in the rocker and pulled me into her lap.

“That was taken in Cleveland when your aunt was teaching there. This is a sad thing in the world. There are places where they keep people separate because of the color of their skin. They won’t let them eat together or drink from the same water fountain or even use the same bathroom. But I want you to know something right here and right now. That is not right! People are people. It doesn’t matter where they’re from, what they believe, or what color they are. The good Lord made all of them. So, don’t you ever let me see you treat anyone badly. Do you understand me?”

I may not have understood the complexities of discrimination in the late ’50s, but I certainly understood my grandma and her brand of unconditional love. I grew up colorblind. I was raised with the admonition that judgement is totally reserved for God. I wasn’t perfect. Of course I judged. We all do from time to time. But I’ve always tried my best to emulate my grandma.

Our society is very much “us vs. them”. We categorize, compartmentalize, sort and label people. By their appearance, politics, beliefs, sexuality, and perceived “place” in the hierarchy of society. I don’t watch TV at all, so it becomes much more obvious to me. I believe television, movies, electronic games, and social media desensitizes and normalizes behaviors we normally would not abide with. It’s harder to see the similarities between us when the rhetoric is loud. I honestly try to see both sides of every story. It vexes me these days, but I do try.

I stumbled upon this Danish TV commercial and loved how it looks at us as human. With vast differences and often surprising similarities. I don’t know what the answers are. But I do know I try to love everyone with a Christlike heart. It’s the best I can do, I’m afraid. ❤️

www.facebook.com/TruthInsi…

“You shall treat the stranger who sojourns with you as the native among you, and you shall love him as yourself, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt: I am the Lord your God.” ‭‭Leviticus‬ ‭19:34‬ ‭ESV‬

No Such Thing as a Hollywood Ending

Mon, 03 Apr 2017 01:55:54 -0600

Grief isn’t pretty. It isn’t predictable. It doesn’t run on a timeline. You don’t get from point A to point B and you’re done. No. It’s messy and painful. It’s slippery and tenacious. It’s sometimes funny. It’s most of the time tragic. It’s often agonizing and seems to go on forever. Occasionally it’s tender and gives you great insights. But it will never have a Hollywood ending where you take a bow and it’s over. It’s never, ever over.

The idea that there won’t be movie credits rolling one day needn’t be depressing, though. Just because the movie never ends doesn’t mean there aren’t good parts. If you are fairly new to grief, please know there is hope for a meaningful life again. Everyone is different and everyone experiences grief differently, but you can find joy. You can find peace. You can even find love. It take conscious effort. It takes hard work. It takes time. It takes faith. It CAN happen. And, unfortunately…sometimes it doesn’t happen. I don’t know why. There isn’t a rule book. God didn’t leave a step by step formula to relieve grief once and for all. He gave us the capacity for great love. Along with that, he gave us the capacity for great grief. He wants us to turn to Him…in love AND in grief. He is our Comforter.

I place my hope in the “it can happen” column. I place my trust in the “God is Good” column. The rest of me, I place in my dancing shoes and tippity-tap my way down the sidewalks of life. There are bright days ahead. Here. Heaven. Doesn’t matter. They’re out there and I’m going after them with gusto! ❤️

“But you, O Lord, are a shield about me, my glory, and the lifter of my head. I cried aloud to the Lord, and he answered me from his holy hill. Selah” ‭‭Psalms‬ ‭3:3-4‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Feel the Rain

Fri, 31 Mar 2017 01:55:47 -0600

As I sit here writing this, Norah Jones softly crooning in the background, coffee by my side, I can hear the rumble of thunder in the distance. Another band of storms are about to pass through…the third today. A pair of mourning doves are foraging around beneath the feeders, unfazed by the approaching rain. Finches cling to the thistle socks hanging on shepherd’s hooks and the bright red flash of a cardinal swooping in catches my eye and makes me smile. They say cardinals are an indicator that angels are near. If that is true, the angels visit often because the cardinals are always here.

The sun breaks through the clouds between showers, warming the earth with its golden rays to a downright acceptable 70°. This makes my heart happy. There’s a load of sheets in the wash. Maybe I’ll hang them on the porch to gather the freshness of this glorious spring day to be relished as I gather them about me when I sleep tonight. There are ways of preserving sunshine…fresh linens is one of them.

I heard from a dear friend yesterday. There is a health concern and I sat in my rocker by the window…praying and contemplating how many are facing illness and injury in their lives right now. I was acutely aware of things like that in the immediacy of acute grief. My own experience made me sensitive and I felt everyone’s pain…deeply. I won’t say that feeling ever went away entirely, but life has a way of diverting your attention. You can’t live the rest of your life on the edge of your seat…Damocles’s Sword hanging above you. Somehow I became a little tougher, a little harder of a shell around my heart for self-preservation. My car accident in February broke through that little fence I built around my head…literally and figuratively.

It seems in the last month there has been more and more loss, more and more bad news, more and more worry. Ahhh, but this is the nature of life, is it not? Things go along quite smoothly and we forget what the rough stuff feels like. Not entirely, of course. Never entirely. After all…there are scars when you walk through fire. I will stand by my friend and walk along on this path of uncertainty and do my best to provide reassurance and support. That is what friends do. Some have credited Roger Miller as saying “Some people feel the rain; others just get wet.” If I’m going to live this life…really live it…I want to FEEL the rain. It is the only way I know I’m truly alive. ❤️

“And the prayer of faith will save the one who is sick, and the Lord will raise him up. And if he has committed sins, he will be forgiven.” ‭‭James‬ ‭5:15‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Here We Go Again

Thu, 30 Mar 2017 01:55:53 -0600

I will bet dollars to donuts that if you scroll back through this blog, every year at this time you will see the same post. Maybe not the same exact words but it’s always the same topic, anyway. I have now spent two entire days working on the computer trying to get my finances together so I can do my taxes. I can guarantee you…the taxes will take 20 minutes. The prep work? Days and days and days. Why? Well…my finances are on an old laptop for one thing. It has plenty of space on it, but it isn’t very compatible with the upgraded financial software and becomes even less so with every subsequent download. While trying to make it communicate with my bank, I inadvertently deleted my entire checking account with fifteen years of transactions. Oh. Em. Geeee. I nearly died. I had the backup but couldn’t get the program to accept it.

Yesterday tech support and I spent hours on the phone and I finally got all but the last two years back. Not a big deal because I can bypass the program and download the data through a back door. But, by the time I got to that step, the program froze and wouldn’t do anything, no matter whether I did a hard reboot or what have you. I finally, for the second time, had to just walk away from it. I’ll try again this morning.

Why do I do this? I used to download and balance my account like clockwork…always coming out to the penny. But ever since Mr. Virgo died, I do it just before taxes and it’s always a royal mess. I know I procrastinate but this is ridiculous. I am going to set an alarm on my phone monthly and not only balance, but do a backup in two places so I don’t ever have to go through this again. What a pain in the keister!

If you’ll excuse me…I’m going to go scream now. Oy. ❤️

“The hand of the diligent will rule, while the slothful will be put to forced labor.” ‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭12:24‬ ‭ESV‬‬

The Promise of Spring

Tue, 28 Mar 2017 01:55:37 -0600

I have lived every moment of the last five months with this image in my mind. Not that I didn’t try to stay mindful and present this winter…I did. But, this…this is what my brain screams for from the moment the first frost withers the life from the foliage in the fall. My body yearns to sit here in the sunshine, listening to the deep tones of the wind chime in the gentle breeze, watching the birds zip in to the feeders. My soul remembers this. Sixty-three times I have experienced early spring mornings. Some I haven’t paid a bit of attention to. Sad to waste even one, really. They are God’s gift to us. His promise of growth, of provision, of new life.

As I sat at my grandma’s old dining room table yesterday doing taxes, the view out the window kept calling me to come outside and enjoy this. The coffee was hot. I wore a sweater to ward off any chill that remained of the morning. As I sat there, enjoying the gurgling creek alongside the house, a beautiful black butterfly flitted around the porch. The pink of the flowering quince, the yellow of the fading forsythia, the vibrant green of new grass gave my winter-weary spirit room to breathe. I smiled at the many gifts I’ve been given in this life. The many opportunities to love, to learn, to grow.

Sunday was an emotionally draining day. The worship experience at church was powerful and stretched my soul wide open. Then I sat in quiet contemplation as the rest of my family buried my father-in-law in Colorado. I wish I could have been there, but I will visit the cemetery when I go there this summer. A Sunday afternoon nap is always in order. Sunday night was spent in fellowship at Pub Church discussing forgiveness. There was a larger crown than usual. Forgiveness is a topic that touches us all in one way or another.

As I sat on the porch with my coffee, I thought of Little and Pop and within seconds she sent me a text with a picture of him. I hadn’t seen it before. If he knew you were taking his picture, he would go expressionless. This one made him look so old and tired. It made me sad. I have a wonderful picture that I took at our last Christmas dinner with him. He is listening to the conversation with his new cochlear implant and has such a serene, peaceful look on his face. That’s how I want to remember Pop…enjoying the love of his extended family. I sent that picture to Little. I hope she’ll remember him that way, too.

So, the break time came to a close and I went back in to tackle the taxes like a boss. I had to upgrade to Quicken 2017 then couldn’t get it to connect with my bank. In the process of walking it through with tech support, I accidentally deleted my checking account with 15 years of transactions. ? I have a backup, but after messing with it for a total of ten hours, I could not make Quicken set up a new account. So, since I do not drink, and there was no chocolate in the house, I shut the computer off and I’ll work on it Wednesday. There was a time in my life when I couldn’t walk away like that. Call it personal growth or self preservation, it was my best option. That and a bubble bath. Tomorrow’s another day! ❤️

“My dear brothers and sisters, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry, because human anger does not produce the righteousness that God desires.” ‭‭James‬ ‭1:19-20‬ ‭NIV‬‬

A Good and Humble Man

Wed, 22 Mar 2017 01:55:40 -0600

I was 25 when he came into my life. Rather…I came into his. This sweet, gentle man who loved me as his own. Bernie has always been my “dad”…much more so than my own father. He loved me unconditionally. He accepted me without reservation when I came to marry his son. Me, with a young child of my own who became his grandchild. He accepted her as his own, too. That made me love him all the more.

Bernie has always given us monumentally wonderful stories. He had absolutely zero social skills which I came to understand was a charming mix of curiosity, self-effacement, and naïveté. He says things like “zoo-CHEE-nee” for that prolific green squash. He gave me rhubarb and choke cherries from his yard.

Bernie and Florence would show up at our house every Sunday evening when we lived in Denver…rain or shine. And it didn’t matter if it was 6:00 or 8:30…they invariably arrived just as we sat down to dinner. They were inseparable. Just as Bernie retired, Florence was diagnosed with dementia and he was a good and faithful husband. He cared for her till it just wasn’t safe anymore. He lived alone for quite some time, even after Florence had passed. Then he fell while on a walk and fractured his leg requiring a pretty intensive surgery. After that, between his macular degeneration and his profound hearing loss, he was persuaded to move into the Jewish assisted living center where he made fast friends, but hated the food. No bacon.

I will always hear Bernie start out a conversation with “Answer me this…”. He would proceed to ask a question about something that had long puzzled him and he’d make you feel so smart and he’d listen as you patiently explained something. I can’t remember a single one of the questions, but I will always remember how I felt in his presence. A simple, humble, funny man who didn’t get all the breaks in life. He worked hard. He took care of people.

Bernie fell a few weeks ago. Hit his head on the nightstand. It didn’t seem too bad, but he collapsed the next night with bleeding in his brain. He has slowly gone downhill this month and soon will be ending his journey here. He’ll go on to meet Florence. I will miss this kind soul. This dad. This grandpa. I am sad…but I rejoice that he lived a good life these 92 years. I am especially sad that I cannot go to him. You’re supposed to wait six to eight weeks after a subdural hematoma to fly. The risk of a re-bleed is small, but since I only have one brain, I can’t take that risk.

When I said goodbye to Bernie in December, I think we had a gut feeling we might not see each other again. Bernie took my face in his hands, looked me in the eyes, and…with a quiver in his voice, said…“You come back to me!” I always made it a point to visit with him often when I was in Denver. Now I’ll look for him in the wind and in the birdsong. I’ll look for him in the sunsets. And I will do something special to honor this good and humble man.

I love you, Pop! ❤️

“A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in his holy dwelling. God sets the lonely in families…” ‭‭Psalm‬ ‭68:5-6‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Sticks and Stones

Mon, 20 Mar 2017 01:55:20 -0600

Expanding on yesterday’s eloquent sermon. I was raised with that tired old adage…“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.” Have you ever heard a more outrageous lie? Why on earth would we teach children that words can’t hurt them? To “toughen them up”? How tough can you get when your dad says you look like a hooker? How strong can you get when your coach calls you a sissy boy? How far can you go when your teacher calls you stupid or someone tells you that you won’t amount to anything. Words crush the spirit. CRUSH…as in totally.

One of the most hideous effects of being verbally abused is becoming a verbal abuser yourself. In the deepest throes of my depression when I was on so many medications I couldn’t make sense of the world around me, I said the most horrid thing to my youngest child at the dinner table. I still remember every word that came out of my mouth. And I clearly remember the slump of her little shoulders as she crumpled under the “blows” of my words. Try as I might, I could never fix that. I could never take it back. I have begged for forgiveness. She has graciously forgiven me. But, nothing is ever quite the same after something like that.

The average human has between 50,000 and 75,000 thoughts per day. Per DAY! How many of those thoughts are lies whispered into your life? How many of those lies do you take to heart? It’s easy to see how you can believe the things people who are supposed to love you say to you, even when they are wrong, hurtful, and outright abusive. And what about all those other lies you tell yourself? “I’m not good enough.” “I’m ugly.” “I’ll never get away from my addictions.” These are all lies whispered into your life by the dark energies of evil. The image of the angel on one shoulder and the devil on the other is very real. Turn your thoughts back to the Light and stop believing the lies. If you are in a relationship that is in any way abusive, get help. Get out. You are a child of God and you are loved. ❤️

“The words of the reckless pierce like swords, but the tongue of the wise brings healing.” ‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭12:18‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Reach Out

Thu, 16 Mar 2017 01:55:47 -0600

I’ve had a smart phone since…well, since phones became smart. I love my phone…and my iPad, and my iWatch, and my Echo, and my laptop, and…you get the picture. I’m a techno-geek. My phone is quite literally my brain. I need to write down people’s phone numbers one of these days because I don’t even know my own children’s numbers off the top of my head. I haven’t had to memorize a phone number or address in too many years to count. It all started with the Palm Pilot and then a Blackberry. Android put some color in my life but Apple is where I live nowadays.

I was struck yesterday by how much my iPhone has helped me since losing Mr. Virgo. From helping me cope with the brain fog of grief to holding precious photos at my fingertips, this thing has been invaluable. I make lists of important things that need my attention. I keep track of passwords, finances, the daily news, and weather. I can leave notes on Mr. Virgo’s Facebook page on important dates and see when people stop in to leave a kind word about him. The contact list and Google are irreplaceable. But the calendar? The calendar is my brain.

Last month, I learned that one of my friends lost her daughter to cancer. I immediately set an alarm on my calendar to remind me to touch base with her on the one month Angelversary which was yesterday. I made a meme in one of my apps a while back that simply says, “I prayed for you today.” When the reminder showed up on my phone, I said a prayer for comfort and strength for my friend and sent her the meme. A few minutes later she replied that it had meant so much to her that I remembered. I can’t remember anything like I used to, let alone dates, so I quickly admitted I was prompted by my phone. But, it meant a lot to her and showed me yet another way I can be supportive of those on this grief journey alongside me. From now on, I will put a note in my calendar to remind me to pray for my friends and family who have lost someone. It only takes a moment to save a date, say a prayer and send a text and it can make a huge difference in someone’s day…especially after some time has passed and folks have gotten back to their lives.

One of my daughter’s high school friends was still sending me messages after a year had passed. Just to let me know she was thinking of me and how much she loved me. These are the gifts we can give each other. I can guarantee you, 100% of us will experience the death of a loved one who is close to us. If it hasn’t happened yet, it will. Be that person who reaches out. You may never know what a difference you have made in someone’s life. You will never regret that. ❤️

“Therefore encourage one another and build each other up, just as in fact you are doing.” ‭‭1 Thessalonians‬ ‭5:11‬ ‭NIV‬‬

The Evidence of Things Unseen

Tue, 14 Mar 2017 01:55:45 -0600

I have a guy friend that has had his eye out for a good deal on a truck for me. Not that I can’t find my own good deal, but I took off for a much needed break this weekend and looking for a truck wasn’t high on my list of priorities for a couple of days. Still, time is marching on here and I need to get the rental car turned in.

When I returned from the mountains on Sunday, I received texts with pictures and a description of two trucks that fit my wish list pretty well. I particularly liked one of them and called first thing yesterday to see if it was still there and it was. Remember my Prayer for Provision? I asked for a newer truck. This one was two years newer. I asked for much lower mileage. This one had one third the miles of my old truck. I asked for new tires. This one just had new tires put on by the dealer. I asked for a one owner car. This was a lease return with one owner. I really wanted a back up camera. This one had one. I also wanted a Super Crew Cab because sometimes I like to just sleep on the floor of the back seat when I’m camping without the trailer and the Super Crew gives you a lot more room back there. I wanted Bluetooth. Done. It had to have the tow package. This one had it. It drove like a dream. Not a scratch on it. Clean as a whistle.

We sat down and talked price. Through careful negotiations, I only had to loan myself $1000 through a low interest charge card which I’ll pay off in three months. I would say this is proof of prayers answered. But wait till you hear the rest of the story.

When my friend picked me up yesterday for the drive to Clarksburg, I was getting in when he said, “Hey…look in the pocket of the door there. I came out of the store awhile ago and that CD was laying beside the passenger door. There was no one around, so I picked it up.” I reached in and pulled out the CD. Thorogood. George Thorogood. I remembered the name but I’ve never been good at remembering which songs a certain artist did. I turned the CD over and my jaw dropped. “Bad to the Bone”. I started laughing and clapping my hands. My friend glanced over, not quite sure how to take this sudden display so I had to explain. When Mr. Virgo had a restaurant in Pagosa Springs, he was well known for miles around to have the best prime rib. His commercial on the local radio station opened with “Bad to the Bone”! Of COURSE that is the CD that was dropped in front of the door I would enter shortly. How could it NOT be?

In addition, my salesperson turned out to be from my hometown and her aunt is one of my high school classmates. Synchronicity. Prayers answered. Signs dropped. Buying the truck was easy, effortless, and it is exactly what I needed. Meet “Norma Rae”, my new chariot! Thank you, God. Your provision is more than I could ever hope for and I am so grateful. ❤️

“Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” ‭‭Hebrews‬ ‭11:1‬ ‭KJV‬‬

A Prayer for Provision

Fri, 10 Mar 2017 02:55:38 -0600

Ok, today’s post isn’t really preachy but there’s a whole lotta “faithy” in it so if that’s not your thing, y’all can move on and come back tomorrow. But, you may want to see how this “Faith in Provision” pans out.

I found out this week, my truck is totaled. Poor Freida. She served me well…she took me places and towed my house on wheels for 55,000+ miles, gave me very little trouble, and saved my life when we were in a crash two weeks ago. And now, I need a replacement vehicle. Ahhh….wouldn’t a nice, shiny new truck be a lovely thing to own? That new car smell, all the bells and whistles, all the potential trips? Yes, that would be wonderful…but, I’m done buying new cars. The depreciation as you drive it off the lot equals my whole year’s income. Literally. Nope, unless I win the Powerball, I’m done with new cars. I prefer a good, quality, moderate mileage, clean, well-maintained vehicle with one owner.

I walk my faith. I trust God for provision. He provides for my needs. Maybe not my wants, but most definitely my needs. I’m not asking for a Mercedes. I’ve had one. Believe me, it’s a car. A nice car…but, just a car nonetheless. I need a tow vehicle. So, here’s my prayer.

“Heavenly Father,

Thank You for loving me and taking care of me. Thank You for Your protection during the accident so that no one was seriously injured. Thank you for providing my every need just as you do for the sparrows in the fields. I am grateful beyond words.

As You know, I lost my truck in the wreck. I need a replacement vehicle. I need it to be newer than my other one, with far less mileage. I need it to have new tires so I won’t have to go buy some anytime soon. And…here’s the big one. I need the vehicle, tax, and license to be less than or equal to the insurance check.

I know I’m asking a lot, but I need to feel safe on the road. I need to be able to pull my “home” anywhere. I need it to be reliable and energy efficient. I’m leaving this up to You. Guide me to, and through, the sale that will provide this vehicle. Show me where there are opportunities to share Your grace and light in the world. Lord, please open Your heart and shower this blessing upon me, Your humble servant.

Amen”

Ask. Seek. Knock. These are action words. I can’t just ask for what I need. I have to offer to serve and be willing to do so when asked. And, I have to knock on the door of God’s heart and ask Him to open it to me. This is my Prayer for Provision that I use when I have a specific need. And now I let it go and let God do the work. And watch what happens. If I get a vehicle…blessings abound. If I don’t, it just hasn’t come yet. Either way…God is good, all the time. This isn’t a test. It is trust. ❤️

“And my God will supply every need of yours according to his riches in glory in Christ Jesus. To our God and Father be glory forever and ever. Amen.” ‭‭Philippians‬ ‭4:19-20‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Patience

Thu, 09 Mar 2017 02:55:00 -0600

I used to pray for patience till I read somewhere that God responds with scenario after scenario in which He challenges you to be patient. I don’t really believe that is true but I don’t want to risk it so I don’t pray for patience anymore. Anyone who knows me, even remotely, knows I am not always a very patient person. I can be, but when too many things come at me at once, I lose my grip and get way too cranked up. Yesterday was just such a day.

Remember the cute little feral kitty that showed up at Thanksgiving unannounced? Well, she’s grown into a perfectly beautiful cat and happily announced the last couple of weeks that she is lookin’ for love in all the wrong places. Poor Boy Cat is doing his best to accommodate her, but he’s been fixed and the whole thing is a somewhat comical exercise in futility. I’ve known for a while I was going to have to trap said kitty and get her fixed, but she will NOT let you anywhere near her. She’s never been touched. I got home late Tuesday night and she was really hungry. I saw this as my window of opportunity, let her eat a tiny bit, then moved her dish into the live trap. She only hesitated for a moment before she went in for supper and the trap did its job. My heart was pounding out of my chest because she was SO freaked out. I almost caved and let her out. I knew that would be my only opportunity to trick her so I tucked her safely under the camper to keep her dry from the rain and covered the cage to keep her as calm as I could. I told her good night and turned out the lights.

I got up early yesterday to take the kitty to the vet. I needed to bring my truck title to the insurance agent later and I knew “exactly where it was”…except, it wasn’t there. I tore through everything. I came across a folder from three years ago when I got my license plates here in WV but I dismissed that because I “knew” they couldn’t be in there. I expressed my frustration to one of my friends when I was reminded by said friend that I had to have gotten new titles when I moved to WV. Brilliant…they’re in that folder! I looked back through everything and do you think I could find that folder again??? Noooooo! Breathe. Breathe.

At this point I have a very hungry, ticked off cat in a cage under my camper and the clock is ticking so I gave up, loaded up the cat (who is now peeing all over the place) into the RENTAL car for the hour long trip into town. After dropping Grumpy Cat off at the vet, I headed to the DMV to find out what I could do about the title. Oh, did I mention I spent three hours there on Tuesday getting the tags for my camper renewed? Sigh. Praise upon praise, it turns out that for a mere three hours more of my time, I could get a duplicate title there and not have to make a drive to Charleston or wait several days for copies to arrive in the mail.

As I was sitting at the DMV, I got a call from the vet. Turns out MISS Kitty is a MISTER! In my defense, I never got close enough to see. My perception of reality has shifted yet again.

I’ll keep practicing patience…but, I don’t know if I’ll ever get it right. ?

❤️

“Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer.” ‭‭Romans‬ ‭12:12‬ ‭ESV‬‬

My Guardian Angel

Tue, 07 Mar 2017 02:55:55 -0600

Have you ever done a search on Google to research something in the Bible? I never even read the Bible till 2004 after my mom died. Between that and “A Purpose Driven Life” I came to really love this Jesus guy and what he had to say about peaceful living so I became a Christian. I’m not a biblical scholar by any means, so I have to study the Bible a lot to come up with the perfect scripture to accompany my posts that illustrates what my thinking was when writing. It would be so much easier to just pick a verse and write something about that. I do it backwards but I learn more, I believe.

I’ve been thinking a lot about something that happened in the aftermath of the car accident I was in recently. I’ve been thinking about guardian angels and what the Bible has to say about them. Google gave me a boatload of verses and I dove in to see if what I suspected could be true. I wrote a lengthy post about this shortly after the accident, but in reading it afterward, I felt there was too much detail about the accident itself so to protect the identity of others, I removed it. I want to revisit that a little bit…especially after a conversation I had with Daughter #1 this weekend.

While I was sitting in my truck after the accident, an EMT reaching up from the back seat holding my head still, I could see in the side view mirror. The State Highway Patrolman arrived to investigate and as he came around the back end of my truck, called out, “Boys? Who’s smokin’ a cigar back here?” I looked up at the rescue people and they were all looking at each other, puzzled. No one was smoking a cigar. I said to the young EMT, “Did you hear that? Did he say he smelled cigar smoke?” He answered that, indeed, he had. I smiled and said, “My late husband is here.” I knew I was going to be ok.

Now, here’s the other half of the story. I finally had a chance to have a lengthy conversation with my daughter a few days after the accident. She told me there was something she hadn’t told me yet. She wanted to know if I knew what time the accident occurred. I told her and she said not too long before that, my son-in-law was driving my granddaughters to school when an Uber driver ran a stop sign without even glancing in his direction. He was driving a small SUV with my 13-year-old granddaughter in the front seat (she’s plenty tall enough) and the 9-year-old in the back. He stood on the brakes, just as I had done, but miraculously he stopped inches from t-boning the driver which would have most assuredly set off their airbags and could have caused serious injury to my loved ones.

So, here’s my theory. Mr. Virgo was out on the back nine in heaven, playing a round of golf, when he sensed trouble brewing down below. What if…what if, somehow he was able to tell God, “Look, this is one tough woman with a mighty big truck. She can take it. Can you intervene in here and save her babies from getting hurt? That would just kill her. Can we do that?” We don’t know the ways of God. Maybe it was just a coincidence. But maybe…just maybe…my guardian angel was watching out for me and left the scent of cigar smoke to tell me he was there. I’ll never know for sure this side of heaven, but I like to think it’s a possibility. ❤️

“For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways. On their hands they will bear you up, lest you strike your foot against a stone.” ‭‭Psalms‬ ‭91:11-12‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Statue artist: LA Williams Photo credit: Fairy Glen

What If

Mon, 06 Mar 2017 02:55:54 -0600

What if it would have been me that died instead of him? I think of these things in the wee hours of the occasional sleepless night. Not so much these days, but in the early years? Yes. Oh my…yes. I tortured myself with every possible scenario this could have taken. Anything to keep me from hitting head on with…“Your husband is dead.” No…that simply will not do. Anything but that. I’d sacrifice my Aunt Sue’s cat if she had one. I’d do just about anything to keep from having to hear those fateful words.

But…what if? What if it would have been him that had to make all the ugly decisions like what kind of box to put me in and where to lay me to rest? What to dress me in? How long is an appropriate time to grieve before the casserole ladies start showing up at his door?

I remember distinctly the day we had the “death discussion”. Mr. Virgo’s cousin had gone through a liver transplant and a subsequent cardiac bypass surgery. He could have died any number of times in any number of ways. We prayed hard for him. His illness forced our hand and we had to have that difficult conversation no one wants to have.

I started out by saying “Of course, we’ll be cremated, and…”

“Whoa, now…wait a minute. I don’t want to be cremated!” he said with surprise.

I was stunned. “Really? Why not?”

“Because,” he said wisely. “You will need someplace to come visit me.”

I thought he was crazy. But he was right. I did appreciate having that place to go. And, I know he would want the same from me. But, I want to be cremated and divide my ashes between Colorado (where I have a plot beside Mr. Virgo) and WV. If I have a “last love”, I want to have some ashes beside him wherever he is. That doesn’t cover the entire conversation with Mr. Virgo.

I proudly announced, “I will never marry again! No one could ever compare to you.” I was expecting a similar, pithy response from my man. Imagine my surprise when he said, “I don’t like to be alone. I’ll find another relationship.”

Hummmmph!

I don’t recall my response exactly, but I’m fairly certain it wasn’t one of my finer moments. Now, with a widow’s heart, I think of that sweet man who loved me and who really hated being alone. How could I wish that off on him? I don’t know if I could have been so altruistic as to write his dating profile and make room for the next wife like that lovely story in the New York Times this week. But I would definitely want him to be happy.

It wasn’t me that died. It was him. So this is an exercise in futility. I still sometimes wonder though. What if it would have been me? ❤️

“For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.” ‭‭Romans‬ ‭8:38-39‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Time Warp

Sun, 05 Mar 2017 02:55:29 -0600

I was sitting in my favorite rocker by the front window last night, thinking about what to write about for this morning’s post. A friend’s name popped in my head and I looked back in my “messages” only to discover it has been five weeks since we last chatted. I wrote her a lengthy note to see how she was doing and filled her in on what’s been happening here. Between traveling for two weeks, my friend’s funeral in Cincinnati, and my wreck…time has warped on me. It’s like the clock face in this picture…a Dali-esque trip down Alice’s rabbit hole. Still…things must get done around here.

I drove over to the closest Ace Home Center yesterday. I’m driving like a 90-year-old, by the way. Every car I pass, my mind does a quick mental calculation of approximate g-force my chest would receive if, God forbid, there should be another airbag incident. I’m hoping that improves with time. Time in a real sense, not this twisty perception that 1/29 was a couple of days ago. I went to Ace for a new ventless gas wall heater for the bathroom. The one in there is at least 50 years old…maybe more. It keeps letting off a loud pop every now and then and it is causing concern in the night. I don’t need any more concern in the night than I already have so the quickest way around that is a new stove. Fortunately, I have guy friends who know about these pesky little things like plumbing gas lines and can fix it for me. I can do many, many fixit projects but I do not mess with gas…period.

My big project next week is to go through the things I took out of my truck after the accident. For simplicity’s sake, I threw the stuff in black plastic garbage bags and stuck them in the cellar house. They can’t stay in there long or they’ll be ruined with mildew so out they’ll come…one bag at a time to be sorted and either cleaned and put away or tossed. At least the weather is supposed to be warmer so it won’t seem like such a chore.

I’d much rather be hooking up TOW-Wanda and going for an adventure but that has to wait for wheels to tow her with. That’s still up in the air. Oh…patience has never been one of my virtues! ❤️

“Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope,” ‭‭Romans‬ ‭5:3-4‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Photo credit: Mommy Upgrade

Here They Come Again

Fri, 03 Mar 2017 02:55:19 -0600

Waves. Grief comes in waves. I’ve been on top of the world the last few months. Feeling good. Feeling strong. Feeling happy. Then…BANG! That car pulled out in front of me. There was no room to stop. The crunch of metal, glass breaking, squealing tires, and the explosion of the airbag keeps haunting me. I see it over and over. I can’t make the results change, no matter how hard I try.

I have pain. I hate pain meds. If I take them more than three or four days, they make me depressed. I hate depression more than pain and definitely more than pain meds. So, I try other avenues…ice, acetaminophen, gentle stretching, meditation, and chiropractic medicine. Since I took the pain meds for a few days, the waves of grief and sadness washed over me yesterday. I know in a couple of days, I’ll feel much better. Until then, I ride it out. I’m tough as nails anymore. And…I’m as fragile as fine crystal. Grief leaves layers of vulnerability you never knew you could feel. Strong, weak, strong, weak…we peel through each one till we get to a thicker strong place. That’s when we get some relief for a while. But, all it takes is a little trauma, a little squeal of rubber, a little airbag to send you reeling for a bit.

I have a wonderful support system in place. My friends and family are right there when I need them. I’ll feel much better soon. Knowing that keeps me going. ❤️

Snap! Crackle! Pop!

Tue, 28 Feb 2017 02:55:47 -0600

When I was a tiny tot, my mother had one of those tables on wheels with the seat in the middle that served as my high chair. One afternoon as she cooked dinner, she did not notice I had stood up in it. She turned around and saw me right about the time my brother ran up from behind and shoved the table full force. Mom says the back of my head hit my tailbone and I was out like a light. She did not know how to drive yet so she grabbed me, my brother, and her bag and ran for the city bus. Carrying me over her arm, she gently massaged me till I came to and then ran into the chiropractor’s office. He placed me face down on the table and pinched his fingers up my back till everything popped back into place. She says I took a deep gasp of air, scrunched up my face, and screamed bloody murder and Dr. Zipthorp smiled with pride.

That was my first experience with chiropractic medicine. I’ve been a proponent ever since. I could hardly wait to get in with someone after the accident but had to wait till yesterday. I don’t have a chiropractor here so I took the recommendation of my State Farm agent. After filling out what felt like the first volume of the Encyclopedia Britannica, this wonderfully happy not quite middle aged woman with blonde hair and a really cool boxer dog hopped into the room. She had already looked over my reports and films and had a plan of action in place. She was extremely gentle and non-aggressive as she very gently started manipulating me back into place. She sprayed an icy hot spray on my back and neck and instructed me to ice twice daily, drink lots of fluids, take vitamin C, avoid lifting anything heavy or do anything strenuous, and return Wednesday for the next treatment.

Now I rest. I pick up my rental car today and I rest. Easier said than done, right? It doesn’t take a lot of work to write! ?

““ ‘Nevertheless, I will bring health and healing to it; I will heal my people and will let them enjoy abundant peace and security.” ‭‭Jeremiah‬ ‭33:6‬ ‭NIV‬

The Aftermath

Mon, 27 Feb 2017 02:55:37 -0600

When Mr. Virgo and I lived in southern Colorado on that 4200 acre ranch, we went out with the four-wheelers for a ride out in the back part of the property. We got into something too steep and turned around to head back down. Mr. Virgo was ahead of me quite a ways till he was actually out of my sight. I was coming slowly down the hill wondering where on Earth he was when I rounded a bend and found him standing alongside the road, bent over, hands on his knees, glasses gone, shirt ripped and dirty, gasping for breath. The four-wheeler was no where to be seen. I pulled up and stopped, and my brain had trouble processing that he had been in an accident. Thank God I didn’t see him when he drove off the cliff or when he landed on the log six feet below, or when the four-wheeler came down right on top of him! There are some thing God shields you from. When I finally understood what had happened, I got him on the back of my ATV and drove him down to the nearest cabin, left him with a water bottle and a gun, and high-tailed it down off the mountain to get my SUV. I raced back up to get him, praying in both directions that he would be ok.

Coming off the mountain was painstakingly slow as every bump sent him reeling in excruciating pain. He was quite grey and I knew he was shocky but he couldn’t lay down because half his ribs were broken and he had a hemo-pneumothorax. Finally, I got him to the little ER in town and they were going to let him go home with pain meds. I insisted they do a scan and they found the extent of his injuries and sent him via ambulance to a tertiary trauma center. I called everyone I knew to pray for him. He ended up in the hospital for a week and it took months for him to heal.

While this accident I was in last week has shaken me up, it’s nothing as bad as what Mr. Virgo went through. He was so strong and stoic. I’m doing ok. My only real pain at this point is still my chest from the seatbelt and airbag. I do have the classic symptoms of a concussion. I have a very low grade headache and have a tendency to tell the same story repeatedly or forget where I’m going in the middle of a sentence, but that’s not all that new, truth be told! I’m going to stay in town with friends one more day and then I’ll head home tomorrow. I’ll actually get more rest because the errands will be done. Continued prayers are appreciated as I navigate insurance, repairs/replacement of the truck, added appointments, rental car, and continued healing. I appreciate all of your concerns and well wishes. They mean so much to me! ❤️

“So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” ‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭41:10‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Carrying my Mat

Sun, 26 Feb 2017 02:55:34 -0600

Forgive me, my friends…today we’re going to church. If that’s not your thing, that’s cool…just come on back tomorrow. Today we’re preachin'.

My church is growing so fast, we’ve had to add a third worship experience and I decided to attend Saturday night’s service this week. Pastors Justin and Heather Enoch are young, vibrant pastors who bring the gospel to life for me. The praise team is absolutely amazing and uplifting. I love contemporary Christian music. I always leave there absolutely on fire.

Last night’s message was based on John 5:1-17. Jesus has gone to Jerusalem for one of the Jewish festivals and stops at the pool known as Bethesda, by the Sheep Gate. God sent angels to this pool regularly to “trouble the water” , make it bubble up, giving it the power to heal. There were five platforms surrounding the pool and the crippled, maimed, and infirm would gather there. When the waters were “troubled”, they would quickly get into the water for their healing.

There was one particular man who’s infirmity had him lying on his mat for 38 years on one of the platforms. When Jesus saw him lying there and learned how long he had been by the pool, he asked, “Don’t you want to be well?” The man replied that indeed he did but, every time the water was troubled, someone jumped in over him and he couldn’t get his healing. He had no one to take him to the pool. Jesus told the man to stand up, roll up his mat, and walk. And the man did. The scripture goes on to talk about the controversy of carrying your mat (i.e. “working” on the sabbath.) But, I want to focus on the mat for a minute.

Jesus didn’t ask the man to merely stand up and walk. He asked him to pick up his mat and take it with him. The mat represented everything that man had been through for 38 years. He slept and ate on that mat. He may have even soiled it when he had no way of carrying himself to a facility. It represented every illness, every thought, every bad thing. If he was healed and he went out walking without the mat, people might have thought he looked somewhat familiar but may not know where they’d seen him before. With the mat, it gave others the opportunity to recognize him and place him at the pool as that man they had seen for all those years. It gave the man the opportunity to share the story of his miraculous healing and of the Man who healed him.

My stories are my mat. I tell you where I’ve been. I share openly parts of myself that most guard tightly. I speak frankly about drugs and alcohol, depression and anxiety, PTSD, divorce, death and grief. These are parts of my life I share merely so you can know Who carried me through all of them. Without God in my life…as the focus and singular most important part of my life, I surely would not be sitting here writing this to you good people.

Two years ago, God told me to tell you where I find my peace. In this day and age, if you tell someone you “hear the voice of God”, you are likely to be given a psychiatric diagnosis. I am here to tell you, I have…most assuredly…heard the voice of God. And, while there was a time when you might have questioned my sanity, I am as sober as a judge and in my right mind. My journey through grief in the last four years has brought me into an intimate relationship with God and I love that I walk my path with Him.

When life has knocked you down, don’t be afraid to ask for a hand up. And, carry your mat for all to see so they might know Who made you well. ❤️

“Some time later, Jesus went up to Jerusalem for one of the Jewish festivals. Now there is in Jerusalem near the Sheep Gate a pool, which in Aramaic is called Bethesda and which is surrounded by five covered colonnades. Here a great number of disabled people used to lie—the blind, the lame, the paralyzed.

One who was there had been an invalid for thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him lying there and learned that he had been in this condition for a long time, he asked him, “Do you want to get well?” “Sir,” the invalid replied, “I have no one to help me into the pool when the water is stirred. While I am trying to get in, someone else goes down ahead of me.” Then Jesus said to him, “Get up! Pick up your mat and walk.” At once the man was cured; he picked up his mat and walked. The day on which this took place was a Sabbath, and so the Jewish leaders said to the man who had been healed, “It is the Sabbath; the law forbids you to carry your mat.” But he replied, “The man who made me well said to me, ‘Pick up your mat and walk.’ ”” ‭‭John‬ ‭5:1-3, 5-11‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Collective Hearts

Wed, 15 Feb 2017 02:55:49 -0600

I went to the mall last night after dinner and watched people. Couples holding hands. Young families entertaining little ones, trying to tire them out before bed. Singles on solitary shopping excursions, perhaps assuaging their own pangs of loneliness on “International Couples Day”. I totally indulged myself with some chocolate. I didn’t feel bad. I’m not alone. I’m never alone. I do sometimes get lonely, but I wasn’t last night. Alone or lonely. It’s a matter of vernacular.

The same is true for grief and mourning. Grief is a matter of singularity. It is the path you alone walk in your journey. It is the price of love. Great love incurs great grief when the beloved is gone. Mourning, however, is a matter of the collective hearts of those who lose a person in common. It is shared. It is an act of social responsibility to mourn the loss of those important to you. You attend funerals of those you mourn to show respect, to share the pain you feel with others who are also feeling the loss to whatever degree it strikes them personally.

I am heading to Cincinnati today to attend Anna’s funeral. As we discussed last week, Anna and I graduated from high school together. We knew each other but weren’t friends, per se. My friendship with Anna developed after we realized we shared a birthday. We became closer over discussing her mother-in-law breaking her hip, the birth of her beautiful grandchildren, and her fear that no one would know her if she showed up 45 years late to a class reunion. I think she was pleasantly surprised that she was welcomed with open arms and indeed, we did miss her and remember her. She vowed she and her husband would return for the 50th and now, that won’t happen.

Why am I traveling four hours to the funeral of someone I only really “knew” through a few Facebook exchanges and the common bond of graduating from the same class? Because. Because, it’s what you do. This one hit home, even though I hadn’t seen Anna for 45 years. Our collective hearts are broken and we mourn together as a group. It is the only thing I can do…actively do…to show her children that their mother’s life meant something to me. It would be easy to do nothing and stay home. I’m done with taking the easy way out. Today, I bring my heart to Cincinnati in hopes of offering comfort. ❤️

“My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.” ‭‭Psalm‬ ‭73:26‬ ‭NIV‬

Another Prayer for Anna

Fri, 10 Feb 2017 02:55:42 -0600

On the 24th of January, I wrote a post called “A Prayer for Anna”. My friend from high school lost her husband on the 22nd to a sudden heart attack. I knew, as many of you do, what she went through. That feeling of losing the life you had, the life you had planned, your best friend and your life partner. I know what her children went through as they tried to process their loss and break the news to their children that their Papa wasn’t coming home. That was what she dreaded the most…telling her five grandchildren.

Wednesday evening, I went out to dinner with my niece at The Boar’s Head, a British Pub and Restaurant. Seriously, the Low Country Shrimp and Grits were fabulous! We had a wonderful meal and walked up and down the waterfront for a while. It was so nice to visit with her. She is a Major in the Army Reserves and going back to school to get yet another degree. I’m very proud of her. My phone was on fire towards the end of the evening but I didn’t look at it till I got back to the B&B.

When I got settled in my room, I looked at my phone and got sucker punched in the gut. Our Anna…new widow, soon-to-be-retired nurse, beloved mother, grandmother, and friend…was dead. Seventeen days after her beloved died, Anna was gone.

My friend had a family history of heart disease and after her husband died so suddenly (as well as her younger brother dying and another brother having two heart attacks), she got a full workup. Just this past Monday, Anna had a cardiac cath and everything was fine. Wednesday, she was feeling good physically, and…as we know…she needed to get out and get some fresh air and sunshine, so she went out to walk the dog. We can all imagine what was running through her mind so new into this journey. Sometime into her walk, Anna had a heart attack and died. I have a friend who is a cardiac nurse and she suggested Anna may have had what is referred to as “Broken Heart Syndrome”. There isn’t a blockage, but the heart muscle is weakened from the stress of the loss and she likely suffered an arrhythmia that caused her to have a heart attack. I don’t know, but I assume she was walking alone and was found down. Whatever the details, the point remains…her two daughters lost both parents, unexpectedly, in the matter of seventeen days. That is horrifying.

While this is most certainly not about me, this kind of loss can make grief rear its ugly head. Things have been going really well for me the last few months. And…as grief is wont to do…just when you feel you may have recovered, your journey catches up with you to remind you there will always be work to do. I was broken-hearted when I got this news. I couldn’t even begin to sleep and stayed up much of the night commiserating with my classmates online. We are all in shock and our hearts are with the girls and their children.

I am so glad I had the opportunity to see Anna at our 45th high school reunion in August. Like I said in my post on the 24th, she and I didn’t really know each other well in high school. But, we were FB friends and we were all excited that Anna was coming to the reunion. We visited and laughed and promised to get together once she retired. And, now she’s gone. I’m still having trouble processing that. What it drives home is this…life is so tenuous. It is a thread…a hair’s breadth…a whisper…a heartbeat between “here” and “not here”. The mystery of life awes me and scares me yet comforts me in that I know there is life after this. An eternal life of living in the presence of a loving and forgiving Father. I know Anna has been reunited with her Prince Charming of just shy of 42 years. She didn’t have time to learn about the “new normal”. Now, it’s her children and grandchildren who will need to create that for themselves. And, my heart is most definitely with them. ?

“Therefore we are always confident and know that as long as we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord. For we live by faith, not by sight. We are confident, I say, and would prefer to be away from the body and at home with the Lord.” ‭‭2 Corinthians‬ ‭5:6-8‬ ‭NIV‬‬

HAPPILY EVER AFTER...INTERRUPTED

Sat, 28 Jan 2017 02:55:59 -0600

I used to think how horrific it was…how incredibly sad it was that Mr. Virgo died just three weeks shy of our 6th wedding anniversary. I mean…essentially, we were still newlyweds. We didn’t get to have those big anniversaries…10th, 20th. I was 53 when we married. Mr. Virgo Was 55 and smoked. The chances of us having a 30th wedding anniversary was slim to none. But I thought we’d have more time. We all think we’ll have more time.

I heard something over the weekend what broke my heart. A high school friend up and moved away last fall after building her dream house. Nothing much was said, just that she wanted to live near her son. Then, quite suddenly, with no fanfare, we got to see a beautiful wedding picture of her and the man of her dreams…her long time best friend who had been there for her and her family through thick and thin. It was a holiday wedding and my friend was wearing a gorgeous long white wedding dress. She is a tiny wisp of a thing and she looked so darling holding a beautiful bouquet of flowers. Her new husband, in his black suit and his jaunty red bow tie looked like a man with a kind, sweet face…obviously smitten with his “girl”. I was thrilled for my friend. She’s been alone a long time so it was heart warming to see her so happy.

Then, as I was scrolling through my Facebook feed the other day, I saw her post about the wedding and how they met and how long they’ve known each other. They started out as friends for a very long time before their love blossomed. And…she was so sad to report that they lost her handsome new husband the night before to cancer. I was shocked. I am so sad for her. Not only did she finally marry her very best friend, he up and died on her. It was three weeks. Three weeks. I am not privy to the details, but one would have to assume they knew he had cancer going in and wanted to be married. I can understand that. Another friend of mine had found the love of his life but he really didn’t want to get married again. Then she became terminally ill and he asked what he could do for her…name it, he’d do anything. She want to die with his name. So, he married her and she died a couple days later.

That is love, right there. That is super-human love and strength to go into the wedding, into the marriage, unsure how long it would be…knowing what they were facing. I admire their courage and their devotion to each other. The depth of their love. Heck, I admire anyone who loves enough to share their lives with each other…no matter what their health is. Because this whole thing is a crap shoot. Either one of you could be gone tomorrow. When I contemplate having another relationship, I wonder if I am strong enough to do it again. To give everything and then lose it all. And, while I certainly wouldn’t want to go through this again, I would with the right person. With the right true love. Because, I am a people person. I am a team player. I do better in even numbers. And I’m a total gush-ball romantic. Maybe one of these days, I’ll find another Mr. Wonderful. As sad as I am for my friend, I am so happy she got to be Mrs…even if it was just for three very short weeks. Prayers to you, dear one…my heart is with you in your loss. ❤️

“I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.” ‭‭Philippians‬ ‭4:13‬ ‭KJV‬‬

A PRAYER FOR ANNA

Tue, 24 Jan 2017 02:55:38 -0600

I hadn’t seen Anna since high school. She had never been to a reunion and frankly, she was nervous. What if no one remembered her? What if she didn’t remember anyone else? What if the dress she picked out is too dressy? What if it’s not dressy enough? Or too hot/cold/itchy….you get the idea. Anna was scared. I don’t blame her. I’ve been there…we all have. She changed her clothes three times the first night. Finally I said…“Please…sit. You’re beautiful. Relax.” She gave me a smile and seemed to settle back and get into the groove of the evening.

I didn’t really know Anna. Oh, we had a couple of classes together. But, she was athletic and popular. We didn’t run in the same circles. But we became Facebook friends a few years ago so I felt like I knew her. We sure had fun at the class reunion though. We laughed and had our pictures taken together like we’d been best buds since first grade. That’s the nature of reunions. At least it is in my class. We all just seem to love each other. We’re family.

Anna did what we all do at reunions. She told us about her kids and her grandkids. She had this HUGE mama-honkin’ ring on and I (being the grand poobah of sparkly things) asked her about it. She told me she got it for her 40th anniversary. I found out over the weekend that they almost made it to the 42nd. Anna lost her husband Sunday to a sudden heart attack. It breaks my heart for her. I know where she is. I know what’s happening to her. I know she’s going to remember all the times she talked about her husband and will remember any slight. She’s going to recall every conversation where she might not have been as patient as she could have. She’ll remember every argument and wish she could take it back. She will worry. “Did she tell him she loved him the last time they talked?”

Eventually, she will strain to remember the exact timbre of his voice. Did he call her Baby Doll or Doll Baby? She won’t be quite sure what he gave her for Christmas a couple years ago. She’ll panic. She’ll worry more. “Am I forgetting him?” The time between these two extremes is highly variable and depends on the individual.

I wish I could take it all away, this pain we feel when we lose the one who brings light into our hearts and stars into our eyes. But I cannot…it is the price of loving so hard. The deeper the love…the deeper the grief. So, instead…I will share these thoughts for Anna…and for all who have recently suffered a fresh loss.

May you find some peace in the coming days. May you remember only the beauty of your true, long lasting love. May you see your loved one in the faces of your beautiful family. May you feel his presence on the wind and in the raindrops. May God ease your heart enough to give you some rest. May you find the strength to do all that you need to do in the coming days. May you find the courage to face all the things that will come your way in the coming weeks and months. May you be brave enough to reach out to those who hold a hand out to you in your time of loss. And, when it is your time, may you reach back and mentor another woman through her loss. Because, in that, you will find purpose in your pain. ❤️

“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” ‭‭Psalms‬ ‭147:3‬ ‭ESV‬‬

PRAYER REQUESTS

Thu, 19 Jan 2017 19:34:58 -0600

I know of a few families who need lifted up in prayer tonight. There are health issues and family issues involved that are unspoken with some of them. Also, I would like to ask for prayers for our country as we head into a new arena tomorrow. Whether you were for them or against them, I offer prayers for both the Obamas as they leave this office and the Trumps as they come in. God loves each of his children the same, no matter what our personal opinions are.

If you have any special prayer requests this evening, please feel free to add them here. This is the time to lift each other up.

“Therefore, confess your sins to one another and pray for one another, that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous person has great power as it is working.” James 5:16 ESV

NO WORRIES

Thu, 19 Jan 2017 02:55:12 -0600

I used to worry about everything. I have a genetic proclivity for anxiety…a trait I have so generously shared with my children and at least one of my grandchildren. When I was in my twenties, a trip to the mountains would have me in a tizzy for days just thinking about going. At one point, I was nearly agoraphobic…there were only certain places I felt comfortable. I hated it. I hated that I couldn’t be in a play or give a speech because the idea of standing in front of people made me deathly sick. So, what changed?

I still get butterflies on occasion. And, on rare occasions, I get anxiety attacks. But I’ve been largely better after two major events in my life. First, I nearly died of an overdose in 2000. I’ve talked about it a little here, but not much. It was a very dark time in my life, my marriage was dying, I was at the tail end of a 7 year struggle with clinical depression, and I took two full bottles of pills and could have easily died had I not been found in time. It wasn’t like I made a decision to end my life. I was just in so much pain, I wanted to go to sleep. When I came out of that, I was much stronger and nothing really scared me much after that. Then Mr. Virgo died. I suffered severe panic attacks for about a year. Finally, I was diagnosed with PTSD and had EMDR treatments so no I rarely get anxious about anything. And worry? Nah…worry doesn’t change anything. It just ruins “now”.

I was interviewed on the radio yesterday. I had a half hour to tell my story and those of you who know me…I can just about tell you my name in that time. The show hosts said it was great. The gal who puts the show online said it was great. My friends have listened and said I did a good job. I listened to it and hear every pause, every “and…um”, every perceived flaw. So, I figured I just wouldn’t post it. Then I heard from a reader who heard it. And she said it was a wonderful interview. When I write, I re-read later and often think it isn’t good enough. But I have only erased and started over once in four years. Why? Because, I pray to God to bring me the words. These are the words I’m given. I don’t know who they’re for, or why I got this particular message. God just puts it on my heart and I do it. Same with any talks or interviews I give. It is what it is. Unless you are a speech coach, you aren’t going to really notice what I notice. And, if you ARE a speech coach…please contact me. I need your services!

If you would like to listen to yesterday’s show on Highway to Health, you can do so here and I’m just not going to worry about it, OK?

motherearthworks.com/index.php…

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” ‭‭Philippians‬ ‭4:6-7‬ ‭NIV‬‬ (My go to verse about worry and anxiety!)

#grief, #widow, #worry, #anxiety

URGENT PRAYER REQUEST

Sat, 07 Jan 2017 22:30:11 -0600

Prayer Warriors: Our fellow “Rancher” and friend, Gloria, is asking for especially strong prayers for her daughter, Sue, as they head to the MD Anderson Center to get treatment to kick this cancer, once and for all! Let’s lift them up! ??? Thank you!

The Nest

Mon, 21 Nov 2016 02:30:02 -0600

“A bird’s nest from the farm.”

One late fall day, I was walking down the long drive to get the mail and paper when I noticed an abandoned nest in the ditch. I’m not familiar enough to know what kind of bird made it although it is lined with mud. I know swallows do that. I picked up the little nest and sat it on the end of the old wooden ironing board I use as a perch for the cats and there it sat. That is, until I “decorated” for the holidays. I thought it looked better sitting beside the old hunting boots I found in a barrel downstairs.

One of the joys of living out on the farm is the vast number and variety of birds here. I could hardly wait to put out bird feeders. I have them situated so I can see them from the rocking chair in the front window. They remind me of a verse in the Bible that tells us not to worry about getting the things we need because if God provides for the sparrow, he will certainly provide for us. Everything a bird needs is found in nature. Our added efforts to draw them in with extra food only baits them for our viewing pleasure. But, even though God gives the worm, he doesn’t provide room service. The birds still have to get out every day and forage for sustenance. They have to work for their blessings…they just don’t worry about it. Good advice.

God has buckets of blessings with our name on them. They are the blessings HE wants for us…not our selfish requests. HE wants to prosper us, but on HIS terms…not ours. I can’t just sit here in the rocking chair and wait for UPS to hand deliver my blessings. I have to suit up and show up. I have to prepare myself through prayer and meditation. I have to treat my body like the temple it is with proper food and activity. I have to maintain my health. For me, personally…I have to be in the Word every day. I have to practice all three parts of Matthew 7:7…ask, seek, and knock. The action words. When I “ask”, I ask for the blessings HE wants to give me. When I “seek”, I ask how I can best serve HIM, not the other way around. And when I “knock”, I beg God to open the door to His heart and shower me with the abundance HE has in mind. That is how I “work for my supper”. He feeds my spirit AND my life.

So, just as the bird must work for the blessing of food, so do I. I am grateful for the beauty…and the bounty…in my life. ❤️

“Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?” ‭‭Matthew‬ ‭6:26‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Broken Hearts

Sun, 14 Feb 2016 02:30:30 -0600

There are broken hearts around us on Valentine's Day. Love lost breaks hearts. I know. I've had many broken hearts. The death of a loved one devastates hearts. I know this, too. There are so many circumstances that are more tragic than mine. The loss of a child. Or grand child. Or of suicide. I cannot comprehend this loss. I pray that I will never have to.

Yesterday I received news that my dear friend, Deb, lost her eldest son in a tragic accident. It was a senseless loss. I have been grieving and writing about death for three years and I still feel helpless and without words to comfort my friend. So, I'm turning to you. Deb is a reader here. There are many of you who have lost children. What were some of the things people said that helped you? What can we do to help?

Photo Credit: Deviant Art

Bright Spots

Sun, 27 Dec 2015 02:30:39 -0600

In the days following a holiday as festive as Christmas and nights as long, dark, and cold as January, it is difficult to find the bright spots and maintain an upbeat attitude. My heart says hibernate till spring but my head says GET UP, GET UP...GET UP!

We have a large group family outing scheduled today that I'm really looking forward to. I haven't said anything all week, but I was sick as a dog from Tuesday when I came down with a cold till Friday when I got enough cold medicine in me to get me sitting up and taking nourishment. Couldn't miss Christmas! I'm still pretty darned tired but improving daily.

I have some people who need some prayers so I'm going to start a prayer chain in my Sunday posts.

There's a little boy named Caysen in Columbus who is really struggling. He was born with a heart defect and had surgery but is much, much sicker than they anticipated. Please pray they find out how to address his medical issues and he is healed.

A friend from high school lost her mom when she passed in her sleep on the 23rd. The funeral is Monday. Please pray for their support and comfort in the coming days and beyond.

Another friend from high school had a heart attack last week as well as pneumonia. Please pray for healing.

Another friend from high school is suffering from cancer and COPD. Please pray for comfort and healing.

Another friend totaled her car yesterday and miraculously was not injured. Pray she remains without injury symptoms and there is a rapid settlement.

Please feel free to add your own prayer requests below. Together we are stronger.

❤️

“Lord my God, I called to you for help, and you healed me.”
Psalm 30:2 NIV

Time of Reflection

Mon, 12 Jan 2015 02:30:00 -0600

I love Sunday. I get to go to Church. I didn't always go. As a matter of fact, I was a good Jewish wife and mother for 27 years. I was frightened out of believing when I was a very young child. I followed the "Church of Ginny" for a number of years until I had a roommate who was Jewish. I started following the holidays and traditions because I loved the sense of family it gave me. I loved God. But I had a fear of Jesus after that scary preacher yelled at me and told me I was going to go to hell. I was six. So, with Judaism, I could have a relationship with God and leave it at that.

I met and married a nice Jewish man. We had a nice Jewish house and celebrated all the Jewish holidays. But there was something missing. I had an emptiness inside that I couldn't fill with anything…no matter how hard I tried. Finally, five years after my divorce from this still nice Jewish man…I found Jesus. And my world literally was recreated. I was recreated. I changed instantly. I found my happy place.

I've been Church hunting since I came to West Virginia. I have attended the church of my youth…my grandparent's little country church. I visited a Baptist church with a praise team which was decidedly more contemporary than anything else around here but still pretty tame compared to the throw-your-hands-up-in-the-air kind of worship I have become accustomed to in the churches I attend in Colorado. I visited a lovely Methodist church with friends and saw some classmates there. And the past two Sundays, I attended services at a beautiful Methodist church in the historic district. My mom's cousin is the associate Pastor there and she invited me to come hear her sermon.

Yesterday was the Sunday celebrating the Baptism of Christ. Having grown up in a little country church and after attending contemporary churches, I felt a bit like a fish out of water. There are more rituals in the Methodist church than I remember. It was a lovely service, however. I sat and smiled as I watched and listened to my cousin speak about the "Something More" we are always seeking. I smiled because I remember her as a very young mother attending the little white church on the hill and now here she was in black robes, standing in the pulpit, delivering a sermon in a big stone church with stained glass windows. We both had humble beginnings. We both are widows. We share genes. We share a love for God.

Toward the end of the service, we were invited to come forward to the baptismal font to have the sign of the cross placed on our foreheads with water from the Jordan River, the river in which Jesus was baptized by his cousin John. My cousin, Sue, did the honors. It was a lovely experience for me. I knelt before the pulpit for a bit…without thought of what I would say to God. Instead of many words, I merely felt the warmth of the moment…smiled…and whispered "Thank You." Sometimes just that is the greatest of prayers.

❤

Painting is entitled "Baptism of the Lord" by Guido Reni

Prayer Works!

Mon, 24 Nov 2014 02:30:00 -0600

A couple of weeks ago I asked you to lift up one of our own Marshmallow Ranchers in prayer. Gloria has a large mass, presumably ovarian cancer, and she is having a total hysterectomy this morning. There are issues with her blood clotting too easily as well. Please lift her up again today….that the mass is isolated, that they get clean margins, that there is no lymph node involvement, that the surgeon's hands are skilled and his/her mind is fresh, that she get through this quickly and as painlessly as possible, and that her family have the strength to get through this and support her with their love. If you are not a prayerful person, that's fine…send her some love, light, and good healing energy and thoughts. Any time we concentrate and lift up another, we raise the vibration of the world and that is good juju all the way around.

We love you, Gloria….be well! <3

A Special Request

Fri, 07 Nov 2014 02:30:24 -0600

“We Rise by Lifting Others!”

Twenty-two months ago, I started this blog and when the unthinkable happened, it became a grief journal. Unlike a journal kept by the bedside, mine has gone out to tens of thousands of people with the hope that it touches those suffering losses of their own. That it may be of some source of comfort to let others know they aren’t alone on their path through the barren landscape of grief. I have met some of you in person. I have conversed with some of you in a private chat. And even though I don’t KNOW you all, I feel as though I am surrounded by loving friends. You have sent me countless words of encouragement. You have no idea how much your support and prayers have helped me get through a terribly scary part of life and I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

I knew with the numbers rising in our little “family” here on Marshmallow Ranch, it was only a matter of time when one of our own would need us to support her. That time came last evening when Gloria sent me a private message. She gave me permission to use her first name. She has been doctoring a sore back for awhile and when it did not improve, they did an MRI and found a mass. Unfortunately, she has been diagnosed with ovarian cancer. They will jump right on this and get treatment started right away. She is trying to be brave for her six children. She lost her husband and they are so afraid of losing her, too.

If I may ask this of you, please lift Gloria and her family up in prayer that she can beat this cancer. If you aren’t a prayerful person, please send loving light and good energy. We are all so small and scared when something like this happens. Let’s show Gloria our love and support! Thank you.

Ginny <3

Kansas!

Thu, 09 Oct 2014 01:30:35 -0600

“The Flatlands…Kansas”

“Kansas” is the Sioux word for “flat”! Flat, flat, flat! Kansas excels at flatness. It gets an A+ in flat! But, dang….you sure can see a long ways off. It has it’s own beauty. I saw gorgeous fields of wheat and sunflowers yesterday. Large feedlots full of fat cattle. Grain silos, farmers harvesting crops. Winter wheat a new green against the brown harvest. Thank you, Kansas…for working hard to fill our bellies!

And...I'm off!!!!!!!

Wed, 08 Oct 2014 01:30:44 -0600

“On the road with TOW-Wanda Grande!”

I can’t believe this day is here! I’m taking my time crossing the country this time. One of my Sisters on the Fly friends told me to pay the $50/day storage fee for my stuff when it gets to WV and take an extra week coming across. Good advice, Lisa!

My mom died ten years ago and I made three round trips between CO and WV that year…by myself. I also brought my brother to CO from WV via Disney World! I came cross country the last time with a 17’ U-Haul towing my Toyota on a car hauler. I slept in the cab of that truck! This is total luxury having my house with me.

I’ll keep you up to date on my travels but I won’t divulge specific locations real time for safety reasons. (You’re welcome, Patty et al!). <3

Missing Post

Fri, 05 Sep 2014 01:30:36 -0600

I was awake till the wee hours writing this morning’s post. I kept drifting off then wake and read what I’d written. Ha! One should not sleep and post at the same time. I would swear I posted it to appear at 4am like always but it is nowhere to be found. I was writing about The Work by Byron Katie. If you are unfamiliar with her, Google her. She has a pragmatic system of self-discovery that I have found useful in my journey. Check her out!

In the meantime, please send up a little prayer for my dear friend who took a nasty fall last night. Nothing broken, thank God, but she is going to be pretty sore for a few days.

A man drove up beside me in traffic last evening and told me my right wheel on the trailer is wobbling. My son-in-law’s dad followed me around the block and didn’t see anything but I’m going to the tire shop first thing before I head out to the boonies. I’m scheduled for a fun weekend with the Sisters on the Fly! <3

Lava Lamps

Tue, 26 Aug 2014 01:30:54 -0600

“Grace”

Those of you from my generation are quite familiar with lava lamps. I have no idea how they work other than the heat melts something and it gets lighter than the fluid surrounding it and it slowly releases a blob and sends it skyward. Grief is like that. This gunk stays solid down beneath the surface till the heat gets cranked up and pretty soon there’s an eruption. Of emotion…energy…tears….fears. It bubbles up and gets dealt with until the next blob of gunk comes up.

It sounds all gooey and yucky and it is when you’re smack dab in the middle of the lamp. It’s hot and decidedly uncomfortable sitting in that mess all the time. But when you step back, you see the light. You see the infinite patterns forming and reforming. You see the beauty of the vessel, doing its thing, ad infinitum. And every once in awhile you have to unplug. You have to just let yourself be cool. It’s the only way to recharge so you can face the next batch of lava, hot from the source, threatening to burn you if you’re not careful. That’s what was happening last week…I was in the hot seat dealing with the lava.

Yesterday was an unplug the lamp kinda day. Mr. Fixit came to do some honey-dos since there’s no honey to do them and I am sorely lacking tools since the great storage unit debacle. I spent a few hours trying to figure out what my furniture is worth. I wrote my rebuttal to the Inspection Objections. I talked to many friends. And I spent a delightful couple of hours walking down memory lane going through a plastic tub I had stored in the crawl space. (I found treasures!!!) I went for an ice cream. And I thanked God for another beautiful day to recharge.

Today would have been my beautiful mother’s 89th birthday. Happy Birthday, Mama! <3

Attitude Adjustment

Sun, 24 Aug 2014 01:30:19 -0600

“Attitude Adjustment”

I had a rough week. Between negotiating items on the inspection that need addressing to two crowns and new glasses, I was feeling at my wits’ end. I was allowing the emotion of the situation to sit in the driver’s seat and when that happens, it’s easy to miss a curve and head for the rocks.

I was feeling taken advantage of in these negotiations. I was upset because I was projecting onto the buyers my own desire to be treated kindly because I am a widow. I am a woman. And I am doing this all on my own. I mean, can’t they see this is hard for me? They should be nice. Then I realized, this is business. This has nothing to do with me. They are driving a hard bargain. They are asking for the moon, hoping I’ll hand it to them on a silver platter. I’m not giving up and I’m not giving in. I’ve just had enough of the haggling…it is what it is…take it or leave it.

When I take ME out of the equation, things get remarkably simple. Hey…when did I grow up??? <3

Goodbye, Mrs. Doubtfire...

Wed, 13 Aug 2014 01:30:33 -0600

Depression is an insidious, dreadful, invisible disease. It can not only rob you of joy, it robs you of the ability to see. I don’t mean true vision. I mean the ability to see the good in life, to see the love others have for you, too see anything but pain.

Robin Williams lived in the richest county of America. He had a beautiful home and was wildly successful. He had a loving family. He had the freedom to do anything in the world that he wanted. He also had diseases. He had the disease called addiction. It haunted him and he tried so hard to tame the beast. He had the disease called depression. It followed him everywhere and he could never find peace from it. It was largely a silent, invisible, and ultimately deadly disease.

There are some angry people who don’t understand how he could have been so selfish. They don’t understand. They only knew the outside Robin. While I never met the man, I know the inside Robin. It’s dark and scary and exhausting in there. You’re like the man spinning all those plates on sticks, trying like crazy to keep them from crashing to the ground. You’re afraid to set the plates down and rest because that’s when the darkness comes. It closes in on you, snaring you in it’s incessant grip…choking what life you have in you away. It’s a terrible place to be and when you are there, you truly see only one way out. Sleep. And, tragically, sometimes it is eternal.

You may wonder why a man like Robin Williams ended up hanging at the end of a rope when he certainly had the resources to get help. The answer is unknown. Unless he left a note, we will never know what was going through his mind. But, please don’t be disheartened. There are resources out there that can help you back away from the edge. If you find yourself on that dark path and only want to escape the pain of living, please call for help. Call this number, call clergy, call a family member or a friend. Tape the number to your phone because you cannot see or think when you are in that dark place.

God rest your gentle spirit, Mr. Williams. May you rest in peace away from the demons who tormented you in life. May you find Mr. Virgo in Heaven and play a rousing round of golf. You will be sorely missed.

Nanu Nanu

Anchors

Mon, 11 Aug 2014 01:30:19 -0600

“Anchors”

While the house was being shown on Saturday, I drove into town for a Starbucks fix. Afterwards, I drove by my ex-husband’s house to see if they were home. I don’t usually drop by unannounced but felt compelled this time. I wanted to share with them what my plans are in WV and spend some time catching up.

There was a time when ours was very much a love/hate relationship. Or, probably more precisely, a love/anger relationship. As with any divorce, there was a lot of this finger-pointing, he said/she said stuff going on for the first few years. Then we both remarried and a sort of truce was reached. We went to the same events without killing each other. We spoke on the phone when necessary without diving back into the dirt. We made progress, slowly but surely, but I wouldn’t necessarily say we were “friends”. Then Mr. Virgo died, and it showed us all just how fragile this thing is. This life that we think will always be there and that there’s time down the road to mend your fences. In essence, my ex and his wife were there for me whenever I needed them, for whatever reason. Several months after Mr. Virgo’s death, we decided to have family holiday dinners together so the kids didn’t have to choose which place to go to first. After Thanksgiving, he and I had a few moments by ourselves and he told me it was ironic that it took a family tragedy to make us realize that we are just that. Family. Non-traditional, eccentric, mixed faith, loving, supportive…with common goals. Health and happiness.

I spent an hour and a half on their front porch, drinking coffee, sharing stories, sharing the love only a family bond can give you. This was a long time coming, this peace. It took a lot of hard work on all of our parts and I am so proud of us. They are anchors in my life.

My prayer during those dark years was always “God, please heal my family.” And, like the loving God He is…He did. <3

Springtime in the Rockies

Thu, 13 Mar 2014 01:30:18 -0600

“Springtime in the Rockies”

I headed to the lake Sunday afternoon. I needed to be alone with my thoughts and memories. The anniversary of Mr. Virgo’s death has come and gone. I loved being in the trailer alone. I talked to him. I cried for him. I wrote…and read…and prayed…and napped. I stared at the water and the birds. I listened to the wind and the geese. And I let it go. This year. This awful, heart-breaking, life-changing yet beautiful, blessed year. This change came from a 12 month gestation to birth a different version of me. Older, wiser, deeper. Grief knocked off some of those sharp edges and has humbled me in ways I never knew. And now? Now I’m ready to face whatever comes my way! I’m ready to tackle new projects. Travel to new places. Finish writing my book. Keep writing here. Take more pictures. Make more jewelry. Enter speaker training (not all who train are chosen, but it is a skill I can use anyway!). Paint. Learn. Grow. Teach. Fish. Hike. Camp.

Life is a precious gift. I don’t want to miss one single moment of it. So, I’m heading off to watch my grandchildren sing in the chorus of their first stage production!!!

I’ll get back to you from the road!

<3 Ginny

Premonitions

Sun, 02 Feb 2014 02:30:35 -0600

No one ever told me grief felt so much like fear. CS Lewis"

I sat bolt upright in bed, my heart racing, that not totally unfamiliar creepy-crawly feeling on the back of my arms from the adrenalin. What was it? A sound? A dream? A dream…yes. And a bad one. Another bad one. I turned to my right and he was there, resting peacefully, one arm carelessly slung above his head. Mr. Virgo’s chest rose and fell with the rhythm of deep sleep. I realized I was holding my breath. I sighed, let the tension release from my shoulders and headed for the kitchen. In the dim light, I saw it was 2 o’clock. The moon was a waning crescent…just a sliver hanging in the cold March night. I ran a glass of water and stared out the window.

These dreams started the week before. They were all the same. I was on the phone telling people that Mr. Virgo was gone. Dead. Just…gone. I felt the sting of tears behind my eyes then reminded myself, it was just a dream, Ginny. Go back to bed. So, I did.

On Monday, March 11th, Mr. Virgo was especially tired. He took a nap on the couch and as I walked by, his mouth was gaped wide open.

“This is how he will look when he’s dead.”

Jesus. Where did THAT come from? My grandma used to say “I felt a goose walk over my grave.” I wanted to shake him to make sure he was alive. I let him sleep.

On Tuesday, March 12th, we drove to Grand Junction to look at travel trailers. On the way down we held hands. He lifted mine up and looked at his wrist.

“Huh…I forgot to wear my watch this morning.”

My heart leapt to my throat as a thought popped clearly into my head.

“Oh, my God….he’s going to die today!”

I swerved a little. He didn’t notice. I looked over at him in alarm. He was fine. He was telling me something about the Civil War. He was a history buff. He caught me looking at him and smiled. He told me he loved me.

What was I supposed to say? “We need to stop at the store on the way home, honey. And oh, by the way, I’ve been dreaming you’re going to die. Probably today, because you didn’t wear your watch.” I was helpless. I prayed for God to protect him. I prayed I was crazy. I bargained and told God He could have me. Or I’ll take the Ford back and we won’t buy a trailer. Anything. But the clock kept ticking and Mr. Virgo inched ever closer to his fate. There was nothing any of us could have done to stop it.

And four hours later he was, indeed, gone.

COLORADO SKY

Fri, 14 Jun 2013 02:00:18 -0600

These Colorado skies can turn on a dime and bring severe weather in a flash. I got home from dinner tonight and the neighbor’s big shed is in my yard, up against the fence on the other neighbor’s side. Stuff everywhere. It was too dark to do anything and it’s not going anywhere.

Please pray for those affected by the devastating wildfires in Colorado. Please pray for rain…we need it desperately.

WHERE IT ALL BEGAN...

Fri, 15 Mar 2013 02:00:43 -0600

I come to you today with great sorrow. I lost my beloved husband two days ago of a sudden, massive heart attack. He was my love, my soul mate and my best friend.

I won’t be in the studio for awhile but I will still check this page and monitor sales. Please keep our family in your prayers and I’ll be back as soon as I can.