I believe

I love this story. I saw it happen. I just wanted to share it with you.



Something Strange Happened On The Way To The Mosque...Closed Mouth & Open Eyes!

Saturday August 8th marked the second of the three days dedicated to conducting Open Air Meetings in the predominately Muslim areas around Mombasa, Kenya. We had already seen almost 2,000 people come to Christ as Savior. However, no one on the project – Nationals or US Team members were expecting what was about to happen.

It was a typical mid August Mombasa afternoon – temperatures were in the mid 70’s. The sun was shining, and the streets were teeming with people. The teams were at various locations preparing to preach the Gospel. This particular afternoon was a life changing afternoon for one special young man – Husein.

Husein woke up early Saturday morning – this was his routine. He had a very important task to accomplish – it was his responsibility to call his fellow Muslims to prayer. All over Kenya – you can hear the call to prayer as the speakers blast the invitation several times a day. When Husein got to his assignment however, he could not speak. He knew he was supposed to call the people to prayer – and he tried again – but nothing would come from his mouth. So – he just started walking the streets. In the early afternoon, Husein could hear someone preaching about Jesus. He started walking in the direction of the preaching. While he was on his way to the meeting, he encountered one of the Leadership Development Institute participants. It was in this one-on-one witnessing encounter that Husein came face to face with Jesus. Husein accompanied the LDI participant to the Open Air Meeting – Elias was giving the invitation, as the meeting was coming to a close. Husein made a public profession of faith at that Open Air Meeting. After the service, Elias was spending some time doing follow-up and gave Husein the admonition to go home and tell his family, especially his father that he had accepted Christ. Husein knew that this decision would be a costly decision in terms of his earthly family and life to this point.

Husein heeded the instruction of Elias and went home to tell his father. His father met him as he came to his house. Husein's father began plaguing him with questions about why he had not called the people to prayer, and why he had not participated in the prayers throughout the day. Husein then told his father very clearly that he had been saved – that he had accepted Jesus Christ as his personal Lord and Savior. His father had the expected reaction – he was infuriated. Husein's father insisted “If this is for real. If this is what you have really done, then you need to call the leader of the Mosque.” Husein did just that – he called the leader of the Mosque, with his father watching and listening and told him the account of his conversion to Christ. His father then told him – “We don’t eat dogs, and we don’t eat pigs…you need to go.” This father had just called his own son a dog or pig – and since they don’t eat those animals they had no use for their own son.

Husein waited until the time came for the 10PM prayers. Knowing that his father would be away from the house Husein made his way home for the last time. He planned to pack his things to start his new life with Christ. When he got home again, he found his sister there. His sister told him that all of his things had been burned except for a shirt and a pair of jeans that she had been washing – she had saved them for Husein. Husein spent that night all alone on the streets of Mombasa – but not really alone – for he was in better company than he had ever been – he was living in the presence of Almighty God.

When Husein awoke on Sunday August 9th he made his way to the church that was near the Open Air Meeting he had attended the day before. He participated in the worship service and when the invitation was given for anyone who had received Christ the day before at the Open Air Meeting to come forward for a time of prayer – Husein moved from his seat to the altar.

That afternoon, Sunday Aug. 9th (less than 24 hours after his conversion experience), Husein attended another Open Air Meeting. During the meeting, Husein approached Elias and asked if he could share his testimony. Husein was no stranger to these kinds of meetings – in fact a second part of his former life as a Muslim had been to attend these meetings and be a detractor and to hold meetings in which he would openly criticize Christ and the Christian faith. This time, he took the stage with a totally different – delivered – message. He stood before the crowd in the public market place in his own neighborhood, a predominately Muslim neighborhood, and said, “I want to tell you that Jesus Christ is the Son of God and He died and He rose again. I was against that. But I tell you it is true…I met Him.” Husein had met Jesus Christ!

That evening as over 325 participants in the Leadership Development Institute and 39 members of the US Team listened; Husein gave a vivid testimony of his conversion and faith in Jesus Christ. Later that night the national pastors rallied together to take a small offering that was used to buy Husein some much needed clothes. Our key national leaders met, and agreed upon a place for Husein to be taken to be cared for and discipled.

On Sunday August 16th, Husein attended church in his new community. Word had already spread about the converted Muslim that had moved to town. Every seat in the church was filled and there were many who were standing outside listening through the opened windows. Husein stood again before a mass of people he had never met and shared the same testimony “I want to tell you that Jesus Christ is the Son of God and He died and He rose again. I was against that. But I tell you it is the truth…I met Him.”

When God shut Husein's mouth – He opened His eyes. Husein now has eyes of faith – he has a Message to share. He is a life that was forever changed through the faithful witness of one man. Husein is one of over 3,800 that gave their life to Jesus Christ during our three days of Open Air Meetings. Husein is one that matters to God and one through whom God in mighty ways. Husein is one that you have prayed for, invested in, and ministered to as you have strategically partnered with Reaching Souls International.

He is one and if he'd been the only one, the whole trip would have still been worth it. I love my job!

peace.

Looking Forward

I have to say that my vision has changed. Being in Africa, seeing Africans, opened my eyes.

I now see my life through changed eyes. I see the blessings that have been heaped high all around me. My loving and supportive husband. My terrific daughters. My family and friends. Running water, electricity, walls, floors, ceilings, and doors. Food to eat, clothes to wear, and shoes.

I have a great job with awesome people. I am so excited to go to work each day and tell the world about what God is doing through Reaching Souls International.

There is so much I take for granted. I'm hoping that my new vision will help me see. I'm praying that God will keep the scales He removed in Kenya permanently gone.

I do have one regret. We have 300 faithful men, waiting for the support they need to be raised, so that they may be launched into the field to spread the Word of God. I wish I had it to give. Just $100 per month. That's all. It's a middle class wage in Africa. MIDDLE CLASS! For $100 a month, thousands will hear the message that God loves them. Thousands will come to know Christ as their personal Savior.

I will start where I can and pray for more. I will shout it from the rooftops. I will not stop until the work is done.

Can you see it? I can.

peace.

There's No Place Like Home

I think part of me has always known this. There is no place you can rest and renew like home. The smells, the familiarity, the comfort are all there. I know I easily take them for granted when I'm here and miss them desperately when I'm not.

Home took on a whole new meaning for me recently. Due to the Kenya Air strike, flights were canceled, people were stranded, planes were grounded, chaos ensued. We came very close to being stranded in Nairobi. Even the American Embassy was closed and their life and limb number, disconnected. It was the most bizarre of circumstances in one of the most neglected places I have ever been.

Due to the absolute diligence and persistence of our CEO Dustin, we made it out. 3 countries, 4 airplanes, 5 airports, 5 days, no change of clothes, 1 shower, 103 hours of travel.......coming home = PRICELESS.

I have never had an experience like this one. I hope never to again.

There is no place like home.

peace.

Can't choose....

My daughter asked me to bring her something cute back from Kenya and I can't choose. Could you?

peace.

More Pictures...

The children of Kenya are captivating! The ones that live along the road near our compound have begun to recognize our vans. They start yelling "Jambo!! Give us sweets" as soon as they hear us coming.

Their smiles are bright against their little dark faces and the worries of the world you begin to see on the older children, teenagers and adults have yet to bring the signs of concern to their little faces.

As they walk to school, their bright uniforms contrast against the constant green of this tropical world and the brown of the streets and shops lining the roads.

The traffic here is constant and crazy! People, animals, vehicles, carts, bicycles, motorcycles are all vying for the same space and at a rapid pace. Honking horns are used as a communication tool and the side of the road is their social networking space. Cell phones are abundant, even in the midst of rubble and chaos. Quite a juxtaposition of my little corner of the world.

We are so blessed.

peace.

Mombasa...the journey continues

I thought I would just share some sights of my trip with you today. Enjoy!

peace.

I made it to Mombasa!

I'll start by saying flying is not my favorite. I appreciate the speed of the travel, but being stuffed into a little seat, not being able to move, surrounded on all sides is just not my idea of a good time. But, to get to Kenya, it's the only way to travel!

And I'm here! My ankles are the size of a great piece of firewood. Vanity has been reduced to worrying only about not stinking too bad. It is warm here and humid. Even though this is winter for Kenya, it's much like an Oklahoma spring to me. God has blessed us with a breeze and as I look out over the Indian Ocean just a few feet away, I am blessed.

We traveled for 2 days, unpacked and sorted most of yesterday and today, we are finally rested and looking forward to the week to come. Tomorrow, over 300 pastors and 100 of their wives will register for the Leadership Development Institute, which is why we are here.

What strikes me is that even in this absolutley beautiful country, so rich in many resources, inhabited by a generous, joyful people, the poverty and struggle is ever-present, ever with us. I look across the manicured grounds of our compound across a great rock wall to the Indian Ocean. Standing at the wall are people who are selling their wares, offering rides on camels, children who cry out "we are the poor" and it breaks my heart. But I cannot fix it all. I cannot change their worlds.

But Jesus can bring them hope and He is what I share with them. He is why I'm here. I'm so grateful God sent me to Africa for such a time as this.

peace.

Girl's Night Out

I have to start this post by saying I've never had many girl friends. Girls can be silly, petty and mean. Especially before the age of 20. I've always gotten along better with boys. I had lots of male friends growing up. They were cool, comfortable and straight forward. If you smelled bad, they told you. If you looked stupid, they told you. If you didn't do anything about it, they noogied your head until you did. No gossip, back-biting or petty stuff. Just truth and consequences. I could deal with that.

But through the years, my friend dynamics have changed. I still have some wonderful male friends but now I have a few, really close girlfriends. I treasure them. We treasure each other. I also have an extended group of ladies, whom I consider friends. We have much in common and enjoy get-togethers on a more cyclical basis. And then, I have my TwitterChix!!

Twitter is this social media phenom that makes you share your life in 140 characters or less. It's all the rage and the cool kids are doing it. Just kidding, it is an amazing connection tool. It's breaks down the first meeting barriers. No nervousness, no pre-judgment, no supposition. By the time you actually, if ever, meet someone because of Twitter, you've already been conversing. You, in essence, "know" each other. The conversation just continues, not awkward, not stagnant, just friendly. And then, the Tweet-Up happens!

This is an event, promoted through Twitter, by connected twitterers, that allows the conversation to move to the face-to-face realm. I've been to three. One just for moms and sponsored by Metro Family and Malena Lott, one full of Chocolate and Jewels, sponsored by Samuel Gordon Jewelry and Fat Daddy Sweets and then last night. No sponsors, just Chix!

Last night, we got together for a Girl's Night Out at Iguana in Midtown. 18 Chix, all ages, all walks of life, all stages of life gathered around a common table and had an absolute BLAST!!

We ate $1 tacos, for it was $1 Taco Tuesday and we talked! LOUDLY, boisterously, and constantly! We laughed...from the moment of recognition ME: "Hi, I'm Glynis Crawford" OTHERS: "OH, YOU'RE Glynis Crawford!! HEY!" to the very end of the evening after the group photo, lots of hugs, goodbyes and the rains came down.

It was an amazing evening. I love these gals. They have supported me through transitions, wished me great days for my upcoming Africa trip, encouraged me to share when I get back and made space for me in their lives. We have had numerous conversations on all sorts of topics, they have expanded my horizions and opened my eyes to a bigger, beautiful, diverse world. I hope I have returned their kindness, their energy and their generosity.

I think the next half of my life will be marked with LOTS of girlfriends. I'm excited about that. I am blessed.

peace.

Two Quick Thoughts on which I'm Ruminating

"I bring my void here for filling; it is my poverty God needs. With my want the Lord builds palaces."

Kilian McDonnell, from "A Place to Hide: Light On," in Weavings

"Lord, let me know clearly the work which you are calling me to do in life. And grant me every grace I need to answer your call with courage and love and lasting dedication to your will."

Saint Meinrad Prayer Book "Vocation Prayer"

peace.

Don't send me to Africa

I remember when I first became aware of missionaries and their work. I thought it was amazing that people could feel the calling of God to go share His good news with people in other lands who had never heard of Him. I did not feel that call.

Usually a missionary would come to our church, talk about their amazing adventures and trials, we would take an offering and sing "Here Am I, Send Me" out of the hymnal. I always remember singing kind of soft because the thought of God asking me to go to Africa scared the living daylights out of me. I didn't want to go to Africa. I didn't want to be sent. I wanted to stay here and support those "other" people.

When my husband and I began supporting Reaching Souls International, for the first time, missions made sense to me. Supporting and training National Missionaries to reach their own people for Christ was brilliant. They have no language barriers, no social issues, they can't be kicked out in times of political unrest and the message will go on. Plus, for a minimal amount of money ($100 a month) they are supported in a middle class lifestyle allowing them to be in full-time ministry. I could support this, I wanted to support this, and I wouldn't have to go to Africa.

Then about a year ago, my life changed. I was working for a great organization, but the demands on my time were excessive. Weekends and evenings on top of 40 hours a week was more than I wanted to continue to do. My alzheimers dad was needing more attention and I wanted more of a life. One day, my husband had lunch with a friend. He told my husband they were looking to fill a position on staff and wanted to know if hubbie was interested. He was not, but only because it didn't fit his skill set. But it did fit mine. The position was at Reaching Souls International. I submitted my resume, did my interviews and soon had a new job. And I still didn't have to go to Africa.

But my heart changed. I started listening to the stories of those who had gone. I started catching the vision and understanding their passion for the lost and dying in Africa. I started doing research and understanding that the average life expectancy in many African nations is 42. 42!! I'm dead already. What if I had never heard? What if no one had come to tell me that God loves me? Jesus died for me?

When did my heart change? When I stepped out and said "Not my will, but yours be done." And then I met Freywell.

Freywell is African and one of our in-country leadership. He is one of the most joyfull people I have ever met. His smile lights up the room. His presence brings joy. Then I met Emmanuel. He's young and on fire for God! Then I met Paul. He's older, wiser and so driven to see his country changed for God.

And I knew, I wanted to go to Africa. Here am I Lord, Send Me. I want to see, to touch, to witness, to sing, to love, to share, to cry and to walk the dirt these people walk.

SO, I'm going. I leave Thursday for Mombasa, Kenya and my prayer is God will so move in and through me, I will never be the same. Send me to Africa, I'm ready to go.

peace.

Watching the bubbles

I heard on the radio this morning that part of disaster training is plunging the participants into a pool of water attached to a heavy sled. They are taught to free themselves, remove their visors and then wait. To orient themselves, they are taught to relax and watch the bubbles before they begin to swim. Bubbles always rise. Then they follow the bubbles to the surface.

I wish I had known this in the 5th grade. 3 times a week, I would go the YWCA to take swimming lessons. I already knew how to swim, but it was during 6th hour and swimming was more fun than whatever I would have been doing at school. They taught us to swim, dive, haul people out of the water, etc. It was kind of like a junior lifeguard program. Part of the diving was learning how to go off the low board and the not-so-low board but there was one other board there too.

See, here's the deal. I don't really have a fear of heights. Falling is a different story. But peer pressure has an interesting effect on me. I either find much pride in being the only resistor or I fall willingly into the crowd, another lemming perched on the precipice of disaster. This day, it was option number two.

I'd been diving off board number one and two for most of the weeks we'd been going to the Y. Tuck your head, hold your hands up, roll off the board with just a slight jump. Got it. But board number you've-gotta-be-kidding-me was a no go. Until, everyone I went to class with called out "Let's all go!" One by one they lined up, willing sacrifices to the high board god. One by one they climbed up the ladder and somehow, I found myself with a very bad case of team spirit. "OK, I'll do it!" Cheers went up, little legs went up, we all went up the very tall ladder.

Once I reached the top, there was no going back. Too many behind me, too much pride to sit and cry, so I walked out to the end, tucked my head, put up my arms, didn't look down and just jumped. It was like slow motion, I heard someone yelling..."tuck in, tuck in", I felt myself falling, and I opened my eyes just in time to realize I was going to do the world's biggest belly flop. POW!!!

I hit the water flat. Everything stung. I couldn't breathe. Somehow, I rolled over, saw the lights (and not only the ones in my head) and floated up. I didn't swim, at least I don't think I did. I couldn't move really. I got to the edge without help, I guess I was moving at this point. No lifeguards had jumped in. And I sat.

I can proudly say, I jumped off the high board that day. I can also say, I have never done it since and won't ever.

But what if I had been prepared? What if someone had actually taught me how and how not to jump off the high board? What if someone had told me to tuck into a ball or go feet first and once I hit the water, to watch for the bubbles?

How much of life do I run into, unprepared, get the wind knocked out of me and never try again?

I'm much less likely to do that now, but it doesn't mean I don't. I think my walk as a christian has been much the same way. I dive in head first, belly flop, stop breathing and retire. The problem is, I dive in without reading the manual. God has given me a great head's up in His word. Everything I ever need to know is in there. But I have to stop, look, study, listen and prepare...and then jump knowing the leap is a leap of faith.

So here are my prayers.

"When I called you, you answered me; you made me bold and stouthearted." Psalm 138:3

"When you pass thru the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass thru the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk thru the fire, you will be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze." Isaiah 43:2

"Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of the, for the Lord your God goes with you; He will never leave you nor forsake you." Deuteronomy 31:6

He knows when to jump, which direction the bubbles are going, and I'll keep my eyes on Him.

peace.

What's in a Name?

All my life, I've both loved and hated my name. Glynis. It's unique to be sure, but as a kid I never found it on a pencil, those little license plates or a keychain. It has both plagued me and set me apart. I almost always spell my name in conjunction with saying it. "What's the name on that order?" "Glynis. G-L-Y-N-I-S."

I find it interesting the numerous responses I get when someone learns my name. I also enjoy the numerous misspellings. Most people respond by saying it's unique, beautiful, interesting, or they just look at me with a blank stare. It has been spelled Glynnis, Glennis, Gleyniece (my personal favorite), Gleynis and the list goes on.

So what really is in a name? My name means "Of the glen". Wow, world changing potential there! When we chose our daughters names, we just liked them. We had no idea names could mean something. Way before baby name books were popular. Or we were just clueless.

I have a dear friend who recently changed her name. At some point in her life, she became aware that the name chosen for her represented someone who eventually caused great pain in her life. Because of who the name represented, my dear friend was reminded every time she thought of her name of the pain. So she set herself free from the reminder, she took a new name. A name she chose because of the wonderful things it represented.

Makes me think of this scripture...Isaiah 9:6 "For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given; and the government shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace." and this one...Matthew 1:21 "She will give birth to a son, and you are to name him Jesus, because he is the one who will save his people from their sins." and lastly...Phillipians 2:10 "That at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of things in heaven, and things in earth, and things under the earth;"

A name can be a powerful thing. Something that defines us, identifies us, sets us apart. Jesus' name has the power to save, heal, redeem, comfort, rebuke and surround with love. Call upon his name and he will meet you where you are. Call upon his name and he'll give you a new name, new heart, new life and a new future.

What names are you calling yourself these days? Is it time to change your name?

peace.

Unexpected

I have had several unexpected moments today. All of them have warmed me inside and I wanted to share them with you.

Hope you enjoy them too.



Shouldn't all weddings start this joyously?

Next is the story of a young man, T. Abandoned by his druggie, alcoholic parents, trying to finish high school, work, support himself and dream of going to college. An unrelated gentlemen heard T's story, felt compassion and gave him a truck. He has also promised to keep an eye on this young man and help T go to college. Just because he can. Wow.

The last one is this...TRON

I LOVED this film as a kid and I am SO looking forward to seeing this movie.

It's been a good day.

peace.

Community

I'm hearing this word a great deal recently. We have missional communities at church, professional communities, communities we live in, even a Twitter community. I do love Twitter...

Anyway, I'm going to a different community than I've ever been to before. A community where orphaned children live on the streets. Support themselves by whatever means necessary. Surrounded by another community where adults either ignore, support or exploit these children. Surrounded by yet another community of government officials who turn a blind eye to the suffering of their people to line their own pockets and care for their own needs. Surrounded by a much larger community, called the world, who sometimes notices, sometimes helps, sometimes chooses to look away.

I'm going to this community for a short time. I hope to be effective while I'm there. I know they will leave an impression on my heart for the rest of my life.

I will come back to my community changed forever. I hope I'm ready, willing and able. But I rest in the knowledge that in my weakness, God's strength is made perfect. 2 Corinthians 12:9 "But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me."

What do your communities look like?

peace.

By our love...

I read this scripture today, 1 John 1:8 "If we say we have no sin, we are fooling ourselves, and the truth is not in us."

Let me start by saying I come from a family that loves to judge others. Gossip abounds. They sit on their fat hineys, making comments about people's weight, place in life, etc. They are not rich, they are not famous, they are just plain, ordinary people. Church people no less.

That is where I sometimes draw the line. Church people -- Christians.
Not always equal.

I see many people walking in church doors, sitting in their "assigned" seat (or at least their expected one), listening to the music, the preacher, the prayer and walking back out. Going to lunch, being rude to the hostess, not tipping the waitress or better yet, leaving a Bible tract instead. Going home, starting all over again for the evening service.

I also see many people walking in church doors completely broken, repentant, ready for something else, something new. And you know what, God meets them there. Right where they are. Lifts them up, embraces them, challenges them and surrounds them with other Christians who know exactly how it feels to be loved.

Here's the deal. They will know we are Christians by our love. 1 Corinthians 13 states that pretty clearly. "If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal."

I look at life this way, I am a christian, it's not something I do. I believe in the One true God, I believe he sacrificed his only son Jesus Christ as provision for my sin and I believe his Holy Spirit resides in me to be my counselor and guide. I also believe and acknowledge that without God, I am nothing. I'm a noisy gong, a clanging symbol because God IS love. I am incapable of true, unselfish, fully engaged love without him. I also believe I have been forgiven much. And as much as I have been forgiven and will need forgiveness in the future for I am human, I do not have the right to sit in judgment of others. We each have our own sin.

Some of us wear it literally, I turn to food instead of God. I celebrate with it, mourn with it, pass time with it. Some of us wear it secretly. Some of us justify it. But we all carry it with us. My sin is no different than yours. I will not judge you, please don't judge me. That is God's job and his alone.

So here's my plan. Let's all navigate this thing called life together. Let's embrace each other, accept each other, support each other, share with each other, and truly, wholly love each other.

Jesus did. He ate with those who were despised, he touched the untouchable, he made friends with the unreachable, he walked with the dejected, defiled and debilitated. I am hoping to absolutely emulate my Savior. No proclamation needed. The Bible has already been written and it doesn't need my help, only my action.

"Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends." 1 Corinthians 13:7-8

peace.

old tapes

We all have them. Things said to us, done to us in the past that replay themselves in our present. I have erased many of the tapes from my life. I hope you have as well.

It gives me great comfort to know that there is a purpose for me. I'm not just some random gathering of molecules. As an artist, each piece I create has purpose, vision. Some are just for joy. Some are for a specific person or purpose. Like this one, it's for Lisa. She loves these colors and vintage things and birds. I hope she likes it.


I want to share with you something I read this morning. Hope it blesses you.

God's Signature by Max Lucado from In the Grip of Grace

"Before I made you in your mother's womb, I chose you." Jeremiah 1:5

With God in your world, you aren't an accident or an incident; you are a gift to the world, a divine work of art, signed by God.

One of the finest gifts I ever received is a football signed by thirty former professional quarterbacks. There is nothing unique about this ball. For all I know it was bought at a discount sports store. What makes it unique is the signatures.

The same is true with us. In the scheme of nature Homo sapiens are not unique. We aren't the only creatures with flesh and hair and blood and hearts. What makes us special is not only our body but the signature of God on our lives. We are his works of art. We are created in his image to do good deeds. We are significant, not because of what we do, but because of whose we are.

peace.

I love to tell stories...

I was reading a friend's blog, thanks TootieD, and she tells good stories.

It reminded me of a story from my 14 year old days.

We had come to Oklahoma City from Farmersville, to celebrate the holidays and see friends and family. During one of our days here, Mom decided we would all go see Mrs. Pace in Elk City.

Mrs. Pace was a dear, elderly woman who had known my mother since her teen days when they worked together at the Children's Center in Bethany. We had grown up visiting Mrs. Pace in her little house where the candy dish always held lemon drops and it always smelled of hand lotion and face powder. We would sit, listen to the grown-ups talk, hear the stories and the news updates and eat lemon drops. Mrs. Pace would always tell me how pretty I was and remark on how much I'd grown. She was a sweet lady and even as kids, we didn't mind the visits. Did I mention the lemon drops? :-)

Anyway, on our trip to Elk City this one winter day, we loaded up the 56 Ford with all three dogs, 2 parents, 2 kids and we headed out. But not before we had prettied ourselves up right. We all put on our Sunday finest, I remember my outfit well. I was 14 after all. SO, I had on my jeans and a lovely blue sweater. I had on my best copper and blue eye shadow and my brand new rabbit fur coat. (Didn't know the details of rabbit fur coats at the time, all I can say is I'm sorry little rabbits I didn't know.) And we set out.

As always, the dogs were excited to be traveling. Jenny and I were in the back seat with Brenda, our little black furry mutt, Snoopy, our cartoon dog look a like and not the brightest dog we'd ever had and Maggie, mom's soul mate and our half shepherd/half chow family guardian.

As if Maggie knew a storm was coming, she roused and jumped to the front seat with mom. About that same time, Snoopy started to whimper. Then he started spewing and not from his mouth. POOP! shooting everywhere on everything. It didn't last long but the coverage was significant. Once it stopped, Snoopy was happy. Wagging his tail, running back and forth...yes, you can imagine. Dad pulled over as quickly as possible and we all bailed out. Discovering the extent of the damage, we did the best we could with the towels we had on hand and finished our journey to Elk City.

Mom was the only one in the car unscathed by the explosion, so we dropped her off at the nursing home and the rest of us went to the nearest carwash. This was my dad's solution. So in December in Oklahoma if you had passed the carwash that day you would have seen 1 child, 1 teenager, 1 man, 3 dogs and one car all bathing in the carwash. My rabbit fur coat...well, it was never the same. Snoopy got that high colonic he'd been craving. We all got a good power wash. We were only slightly damp when we returned to visit Mrs. Pace.

She didn't seem to notice and even in the nursing home, she still had lemon drops. We had a nice visit, we listened to stories and heard the news, and we enjoyed the lemon drops.

peace.

Half as much and more than plenty.

Several things have recently collided in my life to make me aware of one very important thing. If I had half as much, I'd still have more than plenty.

Now before you jump and run, hear me out. Really...I'm applying this to one area of my life. Food. For now.

We've all heard that America is fat. Oklahoma is fat. Well, here's the honest truth, so am I. I don't eat tons of junk, I don't eat tons period. But I do eat more than I need...obviously.

I've been struggling with it for some time. Not too seriously or I wouldn't still be struggling, but thinking about it none-the-less. I'm going to Africa soon. There are overweight people in Africa, but it's because they live on rice. They have few choices. I don't struggle with a lack of choice or availability. I could do better.

And then it hit me, seriously hit me. Food poisoning. Threw me out of the eating game for 48 hours. It was gross, painful, and eye-opening. I think my stomach shrunk two sizes that day. Very Grinchy...

But what it did was allow me to say no. No I don't need to finish that plate, I pay for it either way. No I don't need to have seconds. No I don't need to feel guilty about it. Grandma isn't watching and Dad didn't fill my plate for me. I'm not being wasteful I'm being wise.

So I'm eating half and I'm hoping this sticks with me. So far so good. I feel better when satisfied only and not stuffed. For all you thin eaters out there, I know this is not new news to you. But for some of us, there is a huge learning curve to be mounted and overcome.

And...I am an overcomer. So much of my life is witness to this.

So here's to the Full Years to come with only half. I know, sounds crazy, but it just may be the answer, at least for me.

peace.

Impossible!

Impossible for a plain yellow pumpkin to become a golden carriage. Impossible for a plain country bumpkin and a prince to join in marriage. And four white mice will never be four white hourses. Such fol-de-rol and fiddle dee dee of courses. Impossible! But the world is full of zanies and fools who don't believe in sensible rules and won't believe what sensible people say.. and because these daft and dewey eyed dopes keep building up impossible hopes impossible things are happening every day!

And today was one of those days.

I'm a rose colored glasses, pollyanna kind of gal. I love happy endings, laughter, spontaneous singing and I believe the potential to be the best you can be really does exist in all of us.

My hope and faith was renewed today. I moved my 70 year old alzheimers dad into a nursing home. He went willingly, peacefully and seem relieved. The nursing staff was very friendly, very helpful. The home is comfortable and welcoming. From the chickens in the courtyard area to the tiny finches in the TV room, life abounds in the place. Something I never expected in a nursing home. Something I was thrilled to find.

I hope you never have to face what I did today. But if you do...

May the road rise up to meet you.
May the wind be always at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face;
the rains fall soft upon your fields and until we meet again,
may God hold you in the palm of His hand.

I felt the love of the community surround us today. I am grateful God held us all in the palm of His loving, almighty hand.

peace.

Moving Day

Tomorrow I put my dad in a nursing home. I know lots of people do it, there are some good homes out there, and sometimes it's a necessity. This is one of those times.

But I honestly never thought this would happen.

This is just not the way my family does things. We grow old, we die. Very few of my extended family have lingered with an illness that required 24/7 care. If they did, they were married and at home.

My great uncle Grady just died. He was 97, still lived in his own house, played golf 3 times a week, mowed his own lawn and bowled in a senior's league. (They had to put him in with the 70 year olds cause their weren't any other 90-somethings playing and he still beat them).

My grandma, my dad's mom and Grady's sister, is 93 and living in a retirement community. She is still in charge of the world, always right and if you don't believe me, I'll give you her number and you can call and ask.

And then there is dad. He's 70. Because of alzheimers, his journey will likely end in this nursing home. Alzheimers is nasty. It has stolen his mind, his memory, his golden years. It has stolen the future I always thought we would have with him. I'm feeling relieved, cheated, joyful, guilt-ridden and just plain mad.

If we can spend billions on any given day for any given reason, WHY can't we find a cure for this heinous, dream stealing disease. Did you know that there are diagnosed cases of alzheimers in children as young as 6? SIX!!!!

I promise to do something. I do not want to see families lose loved ones before their time. I do not want to see dreams die. I do not want to believe this can't be stopped.

For tomorrow, I'll move my dad. I'll cry my tears. I'll try to make him comfortable in his new surroundings where he will be safe.

But watch out future days, I'm coming for you.

peace.

Reconnecting

I've been on Facebook for awhile now. Connecting and reconnecting has been fun. It has allowed me the ability to communicate with folks I'd lost touch with and to enhance contact with people I still see around.

After 45 years, I've met a lot of people. I haven't lived in one place as long as I have now lived in OKC, but I did spend some rather formative years in a couple of remarkable places.

The first one was Farmersville, Texas. I moved there from Dallas when I was 12, right before the 7th grade. You know that awkward, unsure, gangly phase of life we all go through? Yes, that was when my dad decided "goodbye city life" and "green acres we were there!" It was and still is a small town. When I lived there, the population was around 2000. My class had 30 kids in it and that was the entire seventh grade. It has grown significantly since I lived there, but the town square still stands and some parts are relatively untouched. Although McKinney is quick approaching from the west.

My memories of Farmersville are warm and wonderful. Kind of frozen in time actually. They were some of the happiest days of my childhood, full of good people and fun times. It was also the last place my family was still whole. That might have something to do with it. It was the last place life was relatively easy for me. I was still able to be a kid and I was. I was naive, awkward, innocent, involved, excited, and driven. I wanted to be noticed and yet cringed when I was. I excelled at school and went relatively unnoticed socially.

I joined the band and my second year was first chair. In Farmersville, you either played football as a Fighting Farmer, danced with the drill team as a Farmerette or marched and played in the band. Football games were town events and I loved them. I knew everyone around me, but was an outsider in many ways. I was the new girl. I hadn't lived there my whole life, so I didn't have history and I was terminally shy.

I loved my church youth group. I felt most accepted with this wonderful group. Our youth pastor was an outsider as well and I think that helped me feel like I was part.

I had the regular crushes and broken hearts. I had the excitement of sports from both the player and spectator vantages. Being 5'10" by the seventh grade kind of helped that! Yes, I played basketball.

But band was where I allowed myself to cut loose a little. We worked together, traveled together, competed together...we were a team. I joined the flag corp, cause their outfits were cuter and my newly acquired teen body looked better in them. I loved the band dances and the band banquets. My favorite date was Kenny. He was such a nice guy, so cute.

I remember working up the nerve to call his house, sometimes it took 3 or 4 times before I could dial the whole number and let it ring. My heart would be pounding, my pulse racing, and the phone would ring. Would he think I was weird? Would he roll his eyes when he heard my voice thinking oh great it's her? Would he say yes? No? Who else could I ask? Did I really need a date? Everyone else would have one. Always. 3 seconds later...someone would answer the phone, Kenny would get on, I would ask, he would say yes.

We'd coordinate colors with his aunt in town on the flowers, she was THE florist you know. And we'd dance. For one night everyone was equal. Everyone was accepted. Everyone had fun. And by everyone, I mostly mean me. I'm sure everyone else did too, but that wasn't really my focus honestly. Even looking back now I still feel the excitement of belonging. I was there, with a date, in a pretty dress, with color coordinated flowers. All was good. Even if my dad did chaperone every time. :-P

Through Facebook, I've reconnected with Kenny. He's married, a father of 2, and a music minister. None of that surprises me. He was always a sweet guy. He always said yes, even if he really didn't want to. I'll never know and honestly, I'll never ask. I like the picture in my brain and in my scrapbook somewhere of 2 awkward, gangly blond kids with braces smiling like crazy at the band dance.

Thanks Farmersville for the best kid days of my life. Don't change too much. Thanks Facebook for the memories and for reconnecting me to the days of innocence I have sometimes let be overshadowed by what came after we left.

peace.

Day of Rest

I have always enjoyed going to church. My friends are there, I love worship and singing, it was always a charge up for me. As I have gotten a little older and my children have grown up and out, I have found that sometimes, no church on Sunday makes for a day of rest unlike any other.

I almost feel guilty, almost. I still love God with all my heart and soul and mind and strength. I still love gathering with other believers to celebrate His constant love and goodness. Sometimes, I just feel the need to stop and smell the roses. To count my many blessings everyday. If you are singing that old country song in your head now, my job is complete. If you have no idea what I'm talking about, click here.

My days are full, my life is busy. Sometimes, I need to stop, listen, relax and rest. No TV, no agenda...just being. I am, after all, a human being. My human doing sometimes forgets that!

So give yourself permission to stop. To sit. Life is too short to race through missing all the moments you could have had. If this week has shown us anything with the deaths of the rich and famous, it shows us that our days are numbered and we don't know when those numbers run out. Live each day as if it were your last day. Give those great smelling roses to the living and then stay a visit awhile...

peace.

Your Response is Your Responsibility

So you should try this, walk up to one of my daughters and say "Your Response..." and wait. They will look at you strangely, wonder how you knew the secret phrase and most likely say back "is Your Responsibility."

You see, I brainwashed them. I admit it. I did not accept the status quo answers. No one can "make" you anything. Mad, glad, sad, whatever....you choose. Now I hear you saying "But he hurt my feelings" and I understand, I am not without compassion. In fact, I'm a major sap, I cry at almost anything. But to dwell in those places and blame your behavior on those circumstances is not against your will. It is your choice.

For example...2 little girls playing, one takes a Barbie away from the other and she gets mad. Her response to this anger is her responsibilty. She can choose to bop her sister, grab it back, throw a fit, go tattle, whatever...but at that point she is in control and ultimately, responsible for her decision.

I wish I could say I always respond correctly. I don't. This is like many things in my life, I understand them, I desire them, I strive for them. I do know, I'm better than I used to be. I measure my responses based on different criteria than I used to and I react slower than I used to...maybe the gift of age is truly a gift.

I've often said I would write a book based on this idea. Maybe I should. Can you imagine what our world would look like if everyone actually took responsibilty for their responses? I think I'd like living in that world.

"Being confident of this, that He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus." Philippians 1:6

peace.

Do you have a story to tell?

We all do. This one touched me today. I may tell one of my own soon.

jenx67 is one of my favorite blogs and today was no exception. Go read her story.

peace.

My Thoughts on Father's Day

I love to celebrate. Anniversaries, birthdays, graduations, Tuesdays, anytime is a welcome day for a party. Just ask my family.

I love being treated special on Mother's Day. Being a mom is the single greatest thing I have ever done in my life. I have enjoyed every moment of it. I am grateful for a wonderful husband who supported our family so that I could be a stay at home mom when staying at home wasn't cool.

I love being able to celebrate my husband on Father's Day with our daughters. It's makes me happy to be able to totally pamper him (when he lets us!) and let him know how special, wonderful, awesome he is to us.

But it ends there for me honestly. I have a difficult time celebrating my dad. I look at the cards, I have every good intention, but there isn't one that says "Well, ok. So that's it. Happy Day." For you see, I've known as long as I can remember that I was supposed to be a boy. I started out life a disappointment to my dad.

Understand this, he didn't mention it daily, but he mentioned it enough. So did my grandmother and when my sister was born and there could be no more children, well...you can imagine. Or maybe you can't, I hope not. So he was the ultimate failure, not producing a son, and yet somehow is was our fault for being girls. Guess that biology class was one he missed.

I compensated for not being male by being a total over-achiever. Great grades, always first, always best or died trying. My sister was a tomboy, always cute, always smiling. We were not unhappy children, just not really noticed. Not neglected, just marginalized...especially at family reunions and such. For you see, my dad is the oldest son and Jr. no less. I should have been blah blah blah, III. The third in a long, male dominated line of rednecks. Quite prestigious. ????

I digress...there were many wonderful moments, I have MUCH to be thankful and grateful for and I try to focus on those things. I have "put my behind in the past" to quote Timone in Lion King. Which brings me back to Father's Day.

If you have read my post for any time at all or know me personally, you know I am the primary caretaker of my now alzheimers dad. I am also chief grocery shopper for my grandmother, his mom. Kind of puts a new light on it huh? He doesn't deserve my care. He wouldn't be part of my life if he weren't sick. He divorced me when he divorced my mom. So why do I care?

Some days, honestly, I don't. It makes me mad, I sometimes throw little fits in my head. But then I come back to the realization that when I didn't love God, He knew me and loved me. He gave up heaven, came to earth and died for me. For you. All He asks of me is to love Him back. To accept His most wonderful of gifts, salvation. Redemption wrapped in a crown of thorns. What a gift! He also asks that I honor my Father and Mother. In humble, loving obedience I do. In gratefulness for all He has done for me, I do. For the reminder of loving Fathers everywhere, like my husband, I do. Because my children are watching and learning even as adults, I do.

Because somewhere in my heart, I love my dad. I can't find a card that expresses it accurately and to be honest, he can't read anymore. So I'll just say Happy Father's Day and tell him I love him. Cause after it is all said and done, I do.

Life is too short to focus on those things that do not bring me closer to God. When my days on this earth are done, I want to leave waves of love lapping behind me on the shores of my life.

peace.

Sisters

I am so blessed to have my immediate family nearby. My mom, sister, and daughters all live within 20 miles of me. I grew up living far away from family. The occasional holiday, summer vacation or reunion was all we knew of our grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, etc.

I love being close. I treasure the moments of ordinary life we get to spend together.

peace.

Forgiveness...

I don't usually struggle with forgiveness. I hate strife, so it's not usually hard to forgive on my behalf. But don't mess with my husband and kids! I can so quickly pick up an offense on their behalf, get angry, go all "momma bear" in the situation. I'm learning to trust my husband and daughters to resolve those things in their lives that might cause a reaction in me. I read this today and thought I would share with you.

peace.

WHAT IS BIBLICAL FORGIVENESS?
By: Rick Warren

"And we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose for them." Romans 8:28 (NLT)

*** *** *** ***

Forgiveness is unconditional. We don’t earn it; we don’t deserve it; we can’t bargain for it. Forgiveness is not based on a promise to never do it again. We offer forgiveness to somebody, whether that person asks for it or not.

When somebody says, “I will forgive you if…,” that’s not forgiveness; that’s bargaining. When Jesus stretched out his hands on the cross and said, “Father, forgive them for they do not know what they are doing” (Luke 23:34), he took the initiative, not waiting for us to first clean up our lives.

Forgiveness doesn’t minimize the offense. It actually cheapens forgiveness when somebody comes and asks for your forgiveness and you say, “It’s no big deal. It really didn’t hurt. It’s okay. It didn’t really bother me.” If it wasn’t a big deal, you wouldn’t need forgiveness, and you wouldn’t need to offer it. If it really requires forgiveness then you should not minimize it when somebody asks you for forgiveness.

Forgiveness doesn’t mean the relationship resumes without change. The Bible teaches three things that are essential to resume a relationship that has been broken: repentance, restitution, and rebuilding trust.

You have to be genuinely repentant and truly saddened about what you did. That’s not just saying a quick, “I’m sorry.” It means heart-fully and meaningfully saying, “I was wrong. Please forgive me.”

Sometimes forgiveness should be accompanied with some sort of physical or material restitution. If I came over to your house and burned it down, it wouldn’t be enough for me to go, “Oops! I’m sorry.” I’d need to assume that debt because I destroyed your house.

When it comes to rebuilding trust, it may take a long, long time. Forgiveness is instant, but trust is something that’s only rebuilt over a period of time. It must be re-earned.

Forgiveness isn’t forgetting what’s happened. You’ve heard this phrase over and over: forgive and forget, forgive and forget. There’s only one problem with it – it’s really difficult to forget a hurt that’s been in your life. It’s like when you go on a diet; you think about food all the time. You think about it more than when you’re not on a diet. The only way you can forget something is to actually refocus on something else.

Focus on how God takes the bad and works it out “for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose …” (Romans 8:28, NLT).

© 2008 Purpose Driven Life. All rights reserved.
Rick Warren is author of the New York Times bestseller The Purpose Driven Life and The Purpose Driven Church, which was named one of the 100 Christian books that changed the 20th Century.

Losing Yourself

I've had several observations recently and they all go back to this topic--Losing Yourself.

My alzheimers dad is losing himself. Sometimes in big chunks, sometimes in tiny pieces, but gone all the same. Parts of his mind remember the times when he "could". Remember the times when he "used to". It's sad to see those remembrances slip through his fingers like water. Just at the point he starts to grab hold...it's gone. You can see it happen. Idea...realization...understanding...forgotten. It's lost, another piece of himself. It might drift back through, but that is becoming less likely as the days pass. One day, he won't remember he's forgotten. He'll be gone.

I have a dear friend in a very tough work situation. She is trying oh so hard to be positive, effective, motivated, loyal and yet as the time moves on without support, without encouragement, without feedback, she struggles to keep hold of herself. To not lose herself in the complacency and negativity that surround her. The absolute falseness of the people she interacts with daily. In maintaining the public facade, she is losing herself. No longer positive, motivated, effective, she struggles with loyalty to an organization that is not loyal to its employees. Image is everything and yet is a great deception. I hope she is free to move on soon, she will remember, rebuild and renew.

And lastly, I think I have lost pieces of myself. The pieces that held grudges, judged harshly, worried about socks matching. I've come to a place and time in life that I really do believe and rest in the fact that God is in control. There is not a moment of time where God looks up, smacks his forehead and says "oops! missed that!" He is always, everywhere, all-knowing, all-loving and I count on that. I hope to lose more pieces of myself that do not look like Him.

peace.

Happy Birthday!!

At approximately 12:30am on June 12, my nurse called my doctor, threatened him with something, and about 1:00am he walked in my room.

Without checking me, talking to me, or much of anything he found out from the nurse how long I had been in labor, how long my water had been broken, what the xray showed, how long I'd been pushing...then he looked at me and said, "we can keep trying or you can have a c-section, we're in kind of an emergency situation at this point due to infection, but it's your choice." And waited for my answer. After 31 hours of labor, very little sleep, 2 hours of pushing, etc...I looked at Jim, he nodded, I shook my head yes and...

All HELL broke loose! Jim was whisked out of the room, I was prepped for a saddle block, they started the c-section, Jim was escorted back in, and our little girl was born. 9lbs 9oz, 21.5 inches of the most beautiful baby girl I had ever seen.

Was it all worth it! 25 years later I'd do it all again to know Andrea Nicole. She is one of the most amazing young women I know and I couldn't be more proud to call her my daughter.

Happy 25th birthday Andrea!!

25 years ago and here we go...?

It's now Monday, June 11th and although I've been in labor all night, consistently, nothing seems to be really happening. None of the "you're gonna have a baby soon" things. I won't go into detail. You're welcome.

My doctor has still not come to the hospital (side note: ALWAYS interview your doctors and if you don't like them, find one you do!), started the Oxytocin drip and that was very effective in switching all my labor to my back. I don't know how that works, only that it is painful, gross, no fun at all!!!

Seem to be progressing slightly, nurse decides to break my water, and gets a bath. Once again, no details, but trust me to tell you she was as surprised as I was, who knew?

And we wait.....by late in the evening on the 11th, around 9ish, I'm taken down for Xrays. It is discovered that baby is face up and that is what is stalling my progression. So we move to the delivery room and I'm told to grab my ankles (don't even get me started on how stupid that was!) and push. With every contraction, every 1.5 minute contraction, are you kiddin me!! She wasn't. So I do.

For 2 hours, no doctor, no help, no drugs...Nurse walking by every once in a while to check, commenting on stuff, blah blah blah...

And we continue....

peace.

25 years ago continued...

So Sunday June 10th dawns...

In-laws go to church with us, we go out for lunch, and they leave.

Church starts again at 6:00pm, and we good Nazarenes (at the time) heed the call. I don't remember much about the service other than about 15 minutes in, I start feeling some cramping. Not too bad at first, and then gone. And then back, then gone, then back...you get the picture. After a while, so did I. I was in labor. So during the sermon, I take Jim's watch and start timing the comings and goings. 8 minutes, 7 minutes, 10 minutes, 6 minutes, 6 minutes, 6 minutes, 5 minutes, 5, 5...church is over. "Where we going for dinner?" several of our friends start asking. I suggested the hospital. And all hell broke loose!! sorry, all he!! broke loose, I was in church for goodness sake. :-)

Anyway, me and my now quite sizeable posse head for Deaconess hospital. We get there, I walk into labor and delivery to the sound of a woman screaming at her husband, "you *&&%^$(*&_&&^*^%^)&**$%^@@!@#!, you did this to me, you *^&^%^&%$%^(*(&)^%&*%^! I hate you, you are NEVER touching me AGAIN, just get IT OUT!!!" -- I turned white, looked at Jim, and asked if we could leave, it would be ok, I wouldn't cuss at him, I could wait....contraction, contraction, contraction. Maybe not.

We settled in finally, we called the family and the wait began...but I was contracting at 5 minutes apart regularly, I was a week overdue, I was young & healthy,so this shouldn't take too long, right?

To be continued....

peace.

25 years ago

I was awaiting the birth of my first child. We didn't know if it was a girl or boy. We did know we weren't ready, scared to death, really excited, and feeling very blessed.

The baby was 6 days past my due date. It was Saturday. My in-laws surprised us with a visit, the first since our marriage. My father-in-law wanted to show us where he was working while he was in town (he traveled a lot) and took us to the tire plant. 3 square miles of concrete. We walked. Oh boy. Back-ache and swollen feet don't even begin to touch what I was feeling. 2 hours later (!), we went home, ate some dinner and I did my best sleeping impersonation.

The next day I really didn't want to go to church and hear "You haven't had that baby yet? You're huge!!" one more time. But habit and duty prevailed and I waddled on. We enjoyed lunch with the in-laws and my sweet mom-in-law hugged me, said "I just know you'll go into labor the minute I leave", and left. I had no idea what the rest of Sunday would bring...

To be continued...

peace.

Are You a Person of Pity or Pardon?

This came to me through an e-bulletin my husband receives. It spoke volumes to me.

Written By: Pam Kanaly

Last weekend I had the opportunity to revisit the reason why God took me through the “School of Forgiveness” from 1986-1993. I spoke at a conference and addressed how mistreatment carries with it the potential fertilization of deadly triplets: resentment, unforgiveness, and bitterness. I was reminded afresh how difficult it is to let someone or something “off the hook” when we have been unjustly wronged! Proverbs 18:19 reveals the power of an insult, “An offended brother is harder to win than a strong city.” I can only say Amen to that! When I’ve been affronted, my initial response might resound: “Stay out of my way, mister!” As a fellow human being, many of you understand the veracity in which I speak!

Though God understands why we are offended, He still commands us to move toward a direction where He can enable us through a process to Let Go and Let Him complete a greater work in spite of the injustice. What possible reason would God have in making us “People of Pardon” concerning the new way we must “do life?” And what happens when we fail to courteously indulge His instructions by choosing pity over pardon?

When pardon lacks, spiritual malnourishment flourishes. We become spiritually anemic and frustrate God’s divine influence in us. The longer we nurse the chip on our shoulder, the more accessible we become to Satan’s lies. Our enemy attacks through unresolved woundedness. Hebrews 12:15 cautions – “See to it that no one comes short of the grace of God and that no root of bitterness springs up.”

When pardon lacks, self pity abounds. Subtle independence from God germinates with the mindset, “I didn’t deserve this!” We falsely believe that God promised a life without unwarranted loss. Look at the degree of unfairness Jesus addressed. We are made in Christ’s image. If Jesus had a nature that suffered, then so would we. Philippians 1:29 retorts - There is far more to this life than trusting Him. There’s also suffering for Him.

When pardon lacks, relationships languish. In the process, people around us absorb the overspill of our infection. We think we can hide the offense, grin and bear it, but our choice to remain attached to the wrongdoing infests those we love. Hebrews 12:15 reproves - Bitterness defiles others. The Greek word for defile means to pollute, to trample upon.

So how can we move toward becoming a person of pardon? I’ve discovered the secret: Focus on what’s left and not what’s lost.


Pam Kanaly is President and co-founder of Arise Ministries, a ministry focused on single moms, a public speaker, and author of "Will the Real Me Please Stand Up." Book available at your local bookstores; 10 week Bible Study and DVD's available through www.ariseministries.net- September 2009.

Forgiveness is a CHOICE; you do not need to wait
until you feel like forgiving or until they ask.
You have the infection or poison in you, and you are waiting for them to get sick.
Choose pardon now!

too much stuff or...

have you swept your mud floor recently?

I couldn't decide which title to use for this post. Both are appropriate and revealing. For you see, we need to clean out our garage because it's full of stuff. Our stuff, other people's stuff, just stuff. And then, honestly, we could start on the house. Nooks and crannies stuffed. We don't live extravagantly, but we've lived long enough to inherit other people's stuff and collect some of our own. Keeping little bits along the way, for long periods of time equals lots of stuff.

Anyway, back to the mud floor. I am so blessed. Even in what I might consider lack or less than, I have so much, have been given so much, take so much for granted. I haven't swept my mud floor lately. I have tile and carpet in my comfortable home with electricity, running water, appliances, doors, windows, fences, and many other conveniences. I have not 1, but 3 bathrooms. Washer and dryer, dishwasher, stove-top, oven and a grill. 8 sinks with running water and 4 outside faucets. Air conditioning and heat. wow.

So I will go through, give away, throw away, sort and pass on to those in need all my excess stuff. Gratefully and gladly recognizing that so many have so little and they are all around me.

peace.

Jon and Kate plus 8 minus 2 = X

I'm not into reality shows. I've watched several, followed 1 or 2, sampled others. But overall, don't really like them. I'm too suspicious to believe the "reality" part.

I have seen Jon and Kate plus 8 on occassion, especially when the little ones were babies. They were so cute and watching the family expand and cope kept my attention on occassion.

I happened upon the season opener this year and I cried. Literally, it broke my heart that these parents have lost sight of themselves. They've forgotten it isn't all about the kids. Families are built on the foundation of a marriage. Foundations need care and upkeep. Regardless of the number and configuration of children.

I hope they will humble themselves, return to their foundation, seek help and do what it takes to stay married and a family. Selfishness has no place there, grudges have no place there, scorecards have no place there.

Jon and Kate, I would say to you that you were once 1 + 1 = 2. Start there. Or better yet, remember that a cord of 3 strands is not easily broken. God has a plan. Be still and know He is God.

"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

God's blessings to you both as you navigate this river of forgiveness and change, keep passing through.

peace.

dreams

I've never been much of a dreamer. Once I'm asleep, my mind rests most of the time. So when I have a dream, it has impact.

Not too long ago, I had a dream where I was sitting in the hall of a hospital and a very pregnant lady walked past me and asked me to come with her.

The next moment, we're in a delivery room, me on one side of the bed, doc on the other, pregnant lady on the bed between us. The doc is doing an ultrasound and the pregnant lady looks at me, I recognize her, and she says "The doctor tells me my baby is dead, my son is dead." I say to her "well, we better pray".

I woke up praying for this lady I know in real life that I recognized in my dream. Praying for the health of her baby, her impending delivery, God's protection over the coming birth. This was Sunday, January 18.

January 19, she went into labor and delivered a perfectly healthy baby boy. Here he is.

I don't know why I had the dream, why God wanted me to pray, but I'm glad He did. Are there times when God is presenting opportunities to you, you don't understand and sometimes you say yes and sometimes no? Me too.

But I'm hoping He uses me more. I love to pray, to talk to the Creator of everything I know. To rest in His unchanging faithfulness and love. How can I pray for you?

peace.

thanks, Jen, for the inspiration.

pondering...

Do I ever really want an empty nest?

I have found the greatest joys in life come from the relationships I have invested in with those I love, know, meet or have acquaintance.

I love being a wife and mom. Being an aunt is great. I look forward to being a mom-in-law and nana.

Our younger daughter moved out this weekend. The house is quiet. It's not that I mind the quiet and having time to myself and with my hubbie. I love to read and spending time in my artspace. I love a clean house. I love low maintenance.

But I miss the activity of life and people. Maybe that's why we have invited a young friend to live with us for several months as he completes school. He is on his own in many ways, finishing college to become a special ed teacher. Next semester is student teaching, finishing classes and work isn't fitting in very well. His desire is no debt, ours is too. I'm looking forward to helping him out. I'm looking forward to the activity returning.

Not that life isn't busy enough, it is. I'm really blessed we can make this offer. Maybe more than he is. Time will tell.

peace.

what a month!

I can't believe it's been over a month, "time flies" doesn't even begin to touch it.

Anyway, I've more fully explored the community of Twitter this month. Attended a tweet-up for moms and met some excellent, in-touch women with lives like mine. Most of their lives include small children still and all I can say is wow! I can't imagine living at this pace and still being a mom to small kiddos. I was blessed to be with my kids without working when they were small. Not sure I would have been very good at being the everything mom. Kudos ladies!!

It is always interesting to me to observe the power of social media. "Knowing" people I've never actually met in real life. Having commonalities and conversations with a wide range of people while sitting in my office or holding my phone. Quite odd really.

I've also seen this phenom through the eyes of a couple of men from Kenya this week. Explaining things like social media, Walmart, storage facilities, etc. to these men have been quite a challenge.

How do you explain the concept of friendship with people you have never met except on twitter? How do you explain that we live so far apart we only stay in touch with family over the internet? How do you explain to someone who lives in a mud hut with a thatch roof that in America we have so much stuff we have to rent storage facilities outside our homes to hold our excess stuff? How do you explain that it isn't just about the green beans you need for dinner, it's about the brand of green beans you prefer? Del Monte or Green Giant or the store brand or generic?

I feel both very blessed and very humbled. It has once again put my life back into a world perspective.

Count your blessings
name them one by one
Count your blessings
see what God has done.

And then complain or feel sorry for yourself, I double dog dare you.

peace.

Texas sized giggle from Fran

Three men married wives from different states.

The first man married a woman from Washington . He told her that she was to do the dishes and house cleaning. It took a couple of days, but on the third day, he came home to see a clean house and dishes washed and put away.

The second man married a woman from Wyoming . He gave his wife orders that she was to do all the cleaning, dishes and the cooking. The first day he didn't see any results, but the next day he saw it was better. By the third day, he saw his house was clean, the dishes were done and there was a huge dinner on the table.

The third man married a girl from Texas . He ordered her to keep the house cleaned, dishes washed, lawn mowed, laundry washed, and hot meals on the table for every meal. He said the first day he didn't see anything, the second day he didn't see anything. But by the third day, some of the puffiness had gone down and he could see a little out of his left eye, and his arm was healed enough that he could fix himself a sandwich and load the dishwasher.


Guess where Fran is from? ;-)

peace.

Dayenu

I read this post today from www.naomimunn.blogspot.com and I wanted to share with you.

Hope it touches you as much as it did me.

Listen, I have to tell you something that you might not know if you're not Jewish:

Jews wrestle. We wrestle with God, we wrestle with ideas. We wrestle with angels and most of all, we wrestle with ourselves. We're supposed to -- the very name Israel means literally -- he who wrestles with God.

It's a wonder we don't have our own federation cage matches.

I'm wrestling (!) with a song tonight. It's a 1000-year old song from our Passover Seder entitled, "Dayenu" (It would have been enough.) In the song, we sing that if only God had just delivered us from slavery in Egypt -- it would have been enough. If God had then delivered us and gave us the the sabbath, it would have been enough. If God had delivered us, gave us the sabbath and then gave us the Torah, it would have been enough.

I've been thinking how humble, how hard it must REALLY be to live that concept. Imagine if you knew what you were missing, but understood that you just can't have it all. If only you'd been just dropped off at the curb instead of led to the promised land, it would have been enough. If only you'd been dropped off and then given some time off to recuperate, it would have been enough. And maybe, maybe if you'd then received some guidance about what to do next well, that's CERTAINLY enough.

Right?

Honestly, I can't say that. I can't say that if something or other had happened in my life, and not another, it would have been enough. Because it's taken everything to get me here -- I don't think I could have done without a thing; even the horrible things carve out the wellspring of joy I contain.

BUT, on the other hand (and I'm thinking as I type, dangerous, that) maybe the song is about being grateful for what we have NOW, instead of wishing for more. Maybe the song was written (and it was) in the spirit of thankfulness. Maybe it's written with the thought of not knowing what's ahead that we can have or cannot have -- maybe we're just supposed to contemplate on what's passed instead of what's ahead. Coveting, after all, doesn't just belong to material things.

If God has helped me to forge this writing career and I don't ever go any farther than this blog --Dayenu.

If God had only given me this beautiful family -- Dayenu.

If God had only given me the number of days I've used and no more -- Dayenu.

--Naomi

peace.

pictures as promised

hang on to your hats!!


the firepit and main entertainment area.


the front of the compound.


this is the bathroom and kitchen building. the washer/dryer building is over to the right.


here is the 1980 Winebago and tents compound.

so like i've said, i would have done this differently. i hope they make progress soon, july is coming.

peace.

weekend at Lake Wister

i will start off by saying that Lake Wister is very nice, the cabins are clean and sufficient and there are mountains to be seen in almost every direction. not bad for Oklahoma.

now on to the other stuff. went to see my dear friend and got exactly what i expected. 2 parents, 4 kids on top of a hill living in a 1980 Winebago, 2 tents and 2 out buildings-1 with a washer/dryer and tools in it and 1 housing the bathroom with an outdoor sink attached for washing dishes. they've been up there since february, running water, septic and electricity have just been run in the last couple of weeks. outhouse is still standing, but avoided by all!

they are readying their property for the dream house. the view is amazing, the location is great and they have a nice firepit and grill. personally, i would have rented a little place in town, built my dream house and then moved. but then i'm kind of high maintenance. i like running water, in-house facilities and walls around me. picky, picky, i know.

i hope they actually see it through to completion. i must admit, i have my doubts. they are always great dreamers, to-date, not great follow throughers. maybe this is their time. i hope so. time will tell.

and i do have pictures that i will post shortly. i know you can't wait.

peace.

challenge from a friend & weekend to remember

so today is my friday. i've taken off a couple of days for a 4 day weekend, total decadence.

but before i go, i received a challenge from my dear friend ellen. she basically told me i need to be writing every day. i do, but not here. for work usually, not just for me. so i'm going to try. maybe too much of a good thing, you let me know.
:-)

anyway, on to the weekend to remember. i have a dear childhood friend. she has always marched to her own drummer and i love that about her, but i think someone has seriously shaken her castanets this time.

long story made short, dearie and hubbie and four of their seven children have packed everything they own, bought 20 acres and a 1980 Winnebago and moved to Oklahoma. sounds a little liked they "loaded up the truck and they moved to Beverly, Hills that is, swimming pools, movie stars..." you get the idea, and you aren't so far from wrong.

anyway, no running water, electricity, etc...they are basically squatters on their own land with the idea of building their own home on this piece of heaven or Heavener to be exact. that's the name of the town.

and i'm going to visit. good news, there is a state park within minutes of their land and they have cabins. looking forward to the time away and i'm sure in my quest to write more, this weekend will give me lots of fodder!

who knows, maybe while i'm there i'll do a little huntin' and see if "up through the ground came a bubblin' crude. Oil that is, black gold, Texas tea." couldn't hurt.

i'll say hello to jed and grannie too.

peace.

a friend shared this with me

The Bathing Suit

When I was a child in the 1960's the bathing suit for the mature figure was-boned, trussed and reinforced, not so much sewn as engineered. They were built to hold back and uplift and they did a good job. Today's stretch fabrics are designed for the prepubescent girl with a figure carved from a potato chip.

The mature woman has a choice - she can either go up front to the maternity department and try on a floral suit with a skirt, coming away looking like a hippopotamus who escaped from Disney's Fantasia or she can wander around every run of the mill department store trying to make a sensible choice from what amounts to a designer range of florescent rubber bands.

What choice did I have? I wandered around, made my sensible choice and entered the chamber of horrors known as the fitting room.

The first thing I noticed was the extraordinary tensile strength of the stretch material. The Lycra used in bathing costumes was developed, I believe, by NASA to launch small rockets from a slingshot, which give the added bonus that if you manage to actually lever yourself into one, you are protected from shark attacks as any shark taking a swipe at your passing midriff would immediately suffer whiplash.

I fought my way into the bathing suit, but as I twanged the shoulder strap in place, I gasped in horror - my boobs had disappeared!

Eventually, I found one boob cowering under my left armpit. It took a while to find the other. At last I located it flattened beside my seventh rib.

The problem is that modern bathing suits have no bra cups. The mature woman is meant to wear her boobs spread across her chest like a speed bump. I realigned my speed bump and lurched toward the mirror to take a full view assessment.

The bathing suit fit all right, but unfortunately it only fit those bits of me willing to stay inside it. The rest of me oozed out rebelliously from top, bottom, and sides. I looked like a lump of play dough wearing undersized cling wrap.

As I tried to work out where all those extra bits had come from, the prepubescent sales girl popped her head through the curtain, 'Oh, there you are,' she said, admiring the bathing suit.

I replied that I wasn't so sure and asked what else she had to show me. I tried on a cream crinkled one that made me look like a lump of masking tape, and a floral two piece which gave the appearance of an oversized napkin in a serving ring.

I struggled into a pair of leopard skin bathers with ragged frills and came out looking like Tarzan's Jane, pregnant with triplets and having a rough day.

I tried on a black number with a midriff and looked like a jellyfish in mourning.

I tried on a bright pink pair with such a high cut leg I thought I would have to wax my eyebrows to wear hem.

Finally, I found a suit that fit...a two-piece affair with a shorts style bottom and a loose blouse-type top. It was cheap, comfortable, and bulge-friendly, so I bought it. My ridiculous search had a successful outcome, I figured.

When I got home, I found a label which read -- 'Material might become transparent in water.'

So, if you happen to be on the beach or near any other body of water this year and I'm there too, I'll be the one in cut-off jeans and a T-shirt!

You'd better be laughing or rolling on the floor by this time. Life isn't about how to survive the storm, but how to dance in the rain

***I don't know who wrote this, but I feel her pain!!***

peace.

made it through the day

so yesterday was weird. i woke up and felt just fine. got in the shower and mid-rinse on the conditioner the entire world started spinning, started getting weak, decided to sit down before i fell down, cause that would not be pretty. made it to the toilet and all, well, ya know, broke loose. world spinning, seeing double, and ya know, i guess i was breathing loud enough to concern my husband.

he comes to see what is going on and well, ya know. so it slowed down long enough to dry off, get to bed and eventually to a comfy chair in the den. lots of liquids throughout the day and i survived. so strange. never had anything quite like it.

i'm betting it's what my dad feels like. parts of him recognize normal when he sees it. and parts of him have completely lost hold of it, but i don't think he misses it much anymore.

i knew my world was spinning and not right, i think he's made his peace with his world, or he's forgotten so much, he doesn't need to any more.

i'm grateful mine only lasted 24 hours and heck, i needed to clean the bathroom anyway.

so when life gives you lemon, ask for water and sugar or that will be one sour lemonade!!

peace.

assessing things

so i've been thinking about many things. dealing with my alzheimers dad and his issues, seeing my grandma and her condition and knowing that it doesn't have to be pre-destined for me. i don't have to accept this body i live in, i can change it. i can keep my mind active and useful.

i've also been thinking about moving dad to the nursing home. i've made my peace with it, i think he may actually enjoy having people around, being cared for and honestly, i don't know if he'll notice the lack of freedom. kind of like a child before they begin exploring their surroundings. they are comforted in their spaces, i think he will be too. and they won't let him wear the same shirt every day.

so changes in my life are coming. some are in my control, some are not. Lord help me with the ones in my control and please take care of the ones that aren't.

peace.

wow, what a week

I'm thankful tomorrow is Friday. It's been a really full week. Monday was my 96 year old uncle's funeral and day trip to Dallas with alzheimers dad and his mom, 91 year old grandma and dad's brother Roy.

The math worked out well, 2 girls, 2 boys. I never had to take dad to the bathroom. The trip went as well as it could. Dad is just out of touch. It's like he's receding into another world. One only he exists in... One I can't go with him to see.

We are waiting for a bed to open up in a new facility. I hope it happens quickly enough that part of him will be able to enjoy it a little.

Until then, we manage the routine. We depend on the kindness of the people around him. We put his Dr. Pepper up for him so it won't end up in the freezer.

Until then, it's time for some art.

peace.