November

And so, the month of thanksgiving begins.  Already the Christmas decorations are up in the stores, the shopping for gifts has begun, and some stores and radio stations are actually playing CHRISTMAS MUSIC!  The season of thanks will pass quickly.  Quietly.  Overlooked by most....if it weren’t for the turkey and the pumpkin pie.

Let’s change that.  Let’s take time to intentionally give thanks and be aware of what God has done for us.  Take a few moments and make a list.  On a clean sheet of paper or the back of a tattered envelope.  With a pen or pencil.  A crayon or marker.  Whatever you can find to use.  Something that takes physical effort on your part.  Let’s put some thought into it.  Let’s make more than a mental notation or a passing comment.  I think that once you start writing you won’t be able to stop quickly.  I understand that it might be hard to start.  Maybe the circumstances of your life right now lead you not to be so thankful.  Maybe you’re hurting and can’t breathe because of the situation you have been hurled into.  I get that.  I've been there.  And for that very reason I encourage you to make the effort to find at least one thing to be thankful for.  Thankfulness is a balm.  It will bring comfort and soothe your soul.
 

So light a fall scented candle.  Enjoy some apple crisp... and the way your house smells while it is baking.  Rake some leaves...and jump in!  Go for a hike.  Go for a long drive through the country and stop at the pumpkin patch.  Take time to enjoy life.  We have so much to be thankful for.  Much more than our material possessions, which are often what we list in exercises like this.  Allow yourself the luxury of experiencing true thankfulness by allowing yourself time.  Time to ponder your life and the many blessings you have all around you. 

I would love for you to share your list with us and encourage someone today.  I'll share mine in a few days. 

The Storm

     It occurs to me that when in the midst of a storm, we are acutely aware of the torrential rains and devastating winds.  However, when we are watching from a distance, however near or far, we are not able to comprehend the magnitude and intensity of that same storm, the destruction being caused, the scars left behind.
     Recently when we visited our daughter in Virginia, there was a nor'easter attacking the coast and a hurricane threatening from the Caribbean.  As we stood looking at the ocean, we watched the waves build and break.  They were huge and impressive to watch.  I tried to document it, but they just looked like waves in the photograph.  When we headed home and crossed the bridge over the bay, I made a video of the water tossing and raging.  But looking at the video you just see a dreary, rainy day.  Unless you were there you can't really understand.
     That's the way it is for us when we are relating to hurting people.  We can't understand fully the tumultuous, hurling emotions, the pain that causes one's very breath to catch before it ever reaches her lungs, the ache and longing deep in her bones and soul for better days.  We can't, unless we've been there. 
      So, we must speak with love and compassion, if we speak at all.  Sometimes a hurting person only needs someone to sit quietly with her in support as the storm rages on.  Our words fall empty when spoken just to fill the space.  Love is more than that.  Love is quiet support.  Love is meeting needs when our friend can't even express what she needs.  Love is praising God, even when it hurts.  Love is being there in the storm. 
     I'm in a storm right now.  Words hurt.  They degrade.  They sting.  They leave a mark.  The problem with words is they keep rolling around in your mind like waves attacking the soft beach sand.  Persistent, they crash and roar.   With every repeat, they wash away a little more of your strength.  They erase your confidence.  They try to wipe away your solid ground, making you feel like you will slip and fall into the waves, drowning.
     You know I always have a song, and Casting Crowns has recorded a beautiful lyric I will share with you at the end.  As you listen, think about the storm in two ways.  First, as an observer of someone's storm.  When a friend, or even an acquaintance, is hurting, don't try to tell her what to do to overcome.  Unsolicited advice often only serves to break the wound open and cause the pain to resurface and be dealt with once again.  Looking into someone's storm, try to see it with different eyes.  Try to see the magnitude of the pain.  You can't possibly, but you can try.  The second way is as the one caught in the force of the storm.  It is simply stated in the song.  Praise God.  Though your heart is torn, praise Him in the storm.  That's the only way to survive.
https://youtu.be/DoqbKyeKOBI
  

CONTENTMENT

     I love the sounds in my house tonight.  As our friends from Haiti and a fellow missionary from Savannah are here, there is a blanket of peaceful contentment settled over us.  It's after nine p.m. and the crickets are busy singing their evening song.  I hear the soft voices of the women in their native language as they enjoy each other's company while the older fixes the younger's hair.  I hear the voices of the American and the Haitian as they discuss ministry and the details of how to get things accomplished for the Haitian people.  We all sat around the table eating pizza and cake and ice cream, laughing loudly together as we talked and teased one another.
     Friendship is precious.  Even when you can't speak the same language.  Yesterday my sweet friend, Marie, taught me some secrets of Haitian cooking.  I watched and asked a LOT of questions.  She let me do a few things, but those special touches needed her skill and practiced knowledge.  Three of us, a Haitian mother, her son, and I, chopped and stirred and cleaned and cooked until we had a feast for our family to partake.  I learned so much and I can't wait to try out my new skills for my own daughter in just a couple of weeks!  Even though we could not converse, Marie was able to show and tell me things that I need to know if I am going to try to make her delicious dishes.  I even knew when she asked me for salt!  You may not think that's a big deal, but we were in the house alone at the time.  Both of us were very excited about that.
     I am blessed.  So very blessed.  To be able to open the door of my home and allow people in is something I don't take for granted.  Many people I know won't have food tonight, but we had food and a good time while we ate it.  The comforts we have here are opposite to the way of life in Haiti.  But the passion for living that my Haitian friends have taught me is lost in the hustle and bustle of my American life.  Especially since the earthquake, Haitians are conscious to be aware of the time they spend together with people they love.  I have learned from all my international friends that there is always room for one more at the table.  My sweet Costa Rican daughter, Catalina, said to me one day, "Miss Vicki, if there is enough (food) for one, there is enough for two."  Nahum told me yesterday that when he was growing up, as his mom prepared the food for her family, she would always take some of it to the neighbors or invite people in to sit at her table.  Hmmm. 
     We close ourselves up in our own little private worlds in America.  We are too concerned with "what's in it for me?" to even see or know that our neighbor is hurting.  Simple everyday acts of kindness and love are often forgotten as we hurry to the next meeting, to the store, to the practice, to get the laundry, to wash the dishes, to collapse in bed and do it all again tomorrow.
     My husband and I understand better than anyone.  We have many responsibilities that cannot be denied.  But we are making an effort to slow down.  It's not necessary to keep up with the Joneses, as they say.  We are eliminating some of the things that have cluttered up our time so that we now have time to go for a walk, both for health and pleasure.  We are spending more time in our own kitchen, at our own table, instead of heading for a restaurant to sit in a noisy room and eat food we really don't even want, and really don't even like.  We are enjoying each other and the blessing of opening our home to people we love. 
      Thank you, Lord, for this place you have given us.  Thank you for friends who can come and relax here and, hopefully, feel refreshed when they leave.  Thank you for food on the table and a bed in which to sleep.  Thank you for loving us and placing such special people in our lives.  May we always be willing to allow you to use our home and us.  Thank you for the contentment of being in Your presence with these people we love. 

Everything You Need to Know...

     Today I went back to kindergarten.  Since retirement, I have been honored each week to read to the sweet little ones who are just beginning their adventures in education.  Who will they be in twelve years?  Will they go to college?  Will they go to a trade school?  Will they push the boundaries and create new and important inventions or therapies or medicines?  Will they become politicians?  Nurses?  Teachers?  Will they travel and explore this earth or stay close to home?  They have more potential than they could possibly dream.  We must encourage them and offer them every opportunity to learn as much as they can.  Starting with sitting still to listen to a story.
     Their little faces tell more tales than we sometimes want to hear.  The pain and fear of what happens at home.  The sorrow of loss one so little should never have to bear.  The fact that they know more about life's horrors than they should.  But you also see the joy.  The joy of learning.  Of making new friends.  Of excitement because something new is happening today (like having a lady come read to you).  Of knowing someone believes you can do it.
     I stood in the hall as a first grade class passed and saw some of the faces I read to last year.  They smiled at me and said, "Hi!"  One boy said, "Hey!  You made us thunder cake!"  Yes, yes I did.  I will tell you, it was without doubt the worst cake I have ever made in my life!  But those kindergarteners ate it up and loved it!  I'm happy to be a good memory for them.
     I want to share with you something that happened today.  I didn't see it, but I experienced the story from the parapro who was in the room.  They got a new student today.  He was scared and wanted his mommy.  As his teachers worked their magic to help him adjust to this strange new world that had been thrust upon him, it was the kids who reached him.  One little girl went and sat beside him.  Another little one brought him a tissue.  One by one they introduced themselves to him and told him it would be ok.  One child said, "Our mommies always come back."  One asked, "Can I sit beside him at lunch?"  Those children, who have only been in kindergarten for a few days themselves, loved and cared and supported their new friend in ways no adult could.  He relaxed and I'm sure by the end of the day he had many new friends to tell about when he got home. 
     As that story was told we all got teary-eyed.  The innocence of a child's heart is a beautiful thing.  We forget as we grow older that the simplest thing a person needs is a kind word and the offer of friendship.
     It's true.  Everything you need to know you learn in kindergarten.  This is what they taught me today:  Listen when someone is speaking to you.  Use your manners.  Be grateful and say so.  Offer a smile and a memory when you see someone you haven't seen in a while.  Encourage someone who is afraid.  Offer a tissue.  Enjoy the thrill of a good book.  Follow the rules.  Be kind.  And most of all, love your friends. 

Twenty-seven Years Later

     The pains began to come like they described in class.  Timing them, the excitement grew.  Back then rich people had car phones.  Personal cell phones and instant contact were unheard of.  I don't really remember how I got word to my husband.  I was in labor.  It was time for him to come get me and take me to the hospital.
     When you are expecting your first child and are waiting for your ride to the hospital, time seems to creep along.  It sure did that afternoon.  He couldn't get home.  There was a traffic jam on the interstate and he had to drive down the emergency lane to get past it.   It seemed like hours went by before he finally got home.  I tried not to be upset. 
     There really wasn't any drama.  Until we got to the hospital.


     We are pretty level-headed people, my husband and I.  We don't get upset or cause scenes.  We are logical thinkers.  So, when my nurse couldn't find a heartbeat with the first monitor, we didn't get alarmed.  Until about the third machine she tried.  Then we began to wonder.  But when she said, "I need to call your doctor," we got scared.  Can I stop here to brag on God just a little? 
     You ladies know that after you have seen a few ultrasound screens, you can tell a little bit about what you are seeing.  Well!  That night when my nurse used the ultrasound machine to check for a heartbeat, God blinded me in a way.  Everything on the screen looked blurry and confusing.  I couldn't make out anything that looked like anything I had ever seen before.  I thought I saw an eyeball.  My sweet nurse later told me that what I had seen was a still heart.
     Anyway, I will never, ever, ever forget my dear doctor turning to me after he had looked at that same screen, putting his hand on my knee, and saying, "Vicki, I don't know what went wrong, but we have lost this baby."  Even as I typed that, my heart skipped a beat and my breath caught in my throat.  My baby was gone.
     I don't write this for you to feel sorry for me.  I write to tell you about God.  He's just AWESOME!  Here are some ways He showed up for us:
     The first thing I want you to notice is what my doctor said.  "We."  From the very first I was constantly reminded that we were not alone.  Turns out, my doctor's wife had lost their first baby in a similar manner.  So, he had compassion and empathy that no one else could.  He came in on his off day, when he should have been playing golf, to sit with us and talk.  He cared that much. 
     My sweet nurse had empathy too.  She stayed late that night to talk with my husband and explain things to him that were quickly going to happen and decisions we were going to have to make.  You don't come to the hospital to have a baby prepared to make a decision about which funeral home to call and make funeral and burial arrangements.  She had personal experience and she stayed to love on us when she was exhausted from her busy day. 
     I was so sick.  Had been for nine months.  It was the same with both of my girls.  Sick, sick, sick...even in delivery.  By the time I was ready to deliver, there was no one else in the unit.  So there were a lot of people with nothing to do.  I remember them being around and hearing them say, "Bless her heart," while I was throwing up on the delivery table. I remember that everyone was focused on helping me.  I remember them making sure my husband and I were ok.  I remember the caring yet sad looks on their faces.
     And the quiet of the room.  No cries.  Except for ours.  No high-fives.  No congratulations.  In the recovery room they brought her to me.  She was perfect.  I never held her.  I couldn't.  I did not want to spend the rest of my life remembering the heaviness of her in my arms.  I didn't know they had made pictures for me.  Later they gave us an envelope and said, "Don't open it now.  Keep this for when you are ready.  Don't throw it away."  Those pictures are such a treasure! 
     We cried a lot over the next few days.  My husband was my champion.  He planned the funeral.  My mom and dad went to get a beautiful white gown for her to be buried in and took it to the funeral home.  And when I cried because I didn't get to see it (the casket would be closed), they drove to the funeral home to get it and bring it to me and took it back again.  We had a graveside service with just our family...our big family, including aunts, uncles, and cousins.  Then it was all over and we were at home.
     Without our baby. 


     But God.  Oh, God was so good!  He has taken that horrible experience and shown himself over and over and over again.  We survived and had another perfect baby girl a year and a half later.  When she was born I said, "She looks just like her sister!"  (Except for the little dimple in her chin.) We have been honored to sit with other parents who were thrown into the same stormy sea.  I have had so many people say to me, "I was there that night."  Those people whom I never really saw but was aware of.  They watched.  And they were touched by the faith they saw in us.  You see, as we held each other and cried, they watched.  As we prayed and asked God why, they listened.  As we grieved and mourned, they saw how God comforted us.  They saw the peace that flooded my room and our souls.  God made his presence known to so many.
     I'll never forget the day when a friend I hadn't seen in a while looked at her teen daughter and said, "This is the lady who had the baby I named you after."  My experience was in August, and in February this beautiful young lady came into our lives.  Her mom probably doesn't know, but when they called to tell me she was born, I sat in the floor and ummm, shall we just say, had a long and emotional talk with the Lord about the fairness of it all.  I remember her asking if I cared if she used a name, but I never knew why.  They will never know how touched I was to hear that she was named after my child.
     Funny story and confession time.  That same friend walked with me through this horror while she was pregnant.  I'm sure that was hard on her.  One day we were in a fabric store to buy fabric for her to make the curtains for her nursery.  It was maybe four or five weeks after the funeral.  When the older lady was measuring and cutting her fabric, she innocently looked at me and asked when I was going to have children.  I guess it hit me wrong.  I confess I didn't show much Jesus at that moment.  I looked at that poor lady and said, "I just did.  She died."  Oh dear!  My friend looked at me and gasped.  I really couldn't believe I said it.  But, just in case you had the mistaken impression that I handled it all perfectly, I wanted to tell you that.   
    
     It's been twenty-seven years.  Sometimes it's almost unreal.  Sometimes it's too real.  Through it I learned that God will never leave you or forsake you.  When things are harder than you ever imagine they could be, he is stronger. 
     I don't know why, but this year I was driven to share.  So, my friend whoever you are, if you are reading this and going through or are remembering that most difficult day in your life, please let me encourage you to lean on the Lord.  He is there.  He will carry you through.  There is nothing too big for him. 

The Love of God

     They slept on the concrete floor.  Only a thin quilt separated their bodies from the cool, hard surface.  No pillows.  No covers.  No air-mattresses.  Just a quilt. 
     We, on the other hand, had air mattresses, bug tents, pillows, sheets, and small personal-sized fans blowing on us.
     Each morning we awoke to singing.  They were in the room next to us.  Their rich, joyful voices united to greet the dawn with a song of praise.  Every morning it was the same song.  Celebrating the love of God for his precious people.  And precious they are.
     I've never known anyone who had so little in the way of personal wealth yet so much joy and faith in God.  They know what it's like to really depend on God.  They know what real hunger is.  They know life in a way I never will.  They know they can't depend on a job, on self-sufficiency.  They know they can only depend on God. 
     So they sing.  And they pray.  Oh, do they pray!  Passionately they call out to God.  Someone said on my  most recent trip, "Haitians call out to God.  Americans talk to God."  Sadly, I would have to say that most often we just give him our list of wants, not even caring that He is aware of our every need.  They prayed for me last year.  When I couldn't go to them, they prayed and sang over me.  I have the video.  It's one of the most beautiful gifts I have ever received.
     For two years I have carried that song in my heart.  It brings dear memories of two "older" men (I was a teenager, so they seemed ancient) singing it at church.  But hearing the Haitian voices sing it, I fell in love with it.  Here are the words:

1. The love of God is greater far
   Than tongue or pen can ever tell;
   It goes beyond the highest star,
   And reaches to the lowest hell;
   The guilty pair, bowed down with care,
   God gave His Son to win;
   His erring child He reconciled,
   And pardoned from his sin.
   • Refrain:
     Oh, love of God, how rich and pure!
     How measureless and strong!
     It shall forevermore endure—
     The saints’ and angels’ song.
2. When hoary time shall pass away,
   And earthly thrones and kingdoms fall,
   When men who here refuse to pray,
   On rocks and hills and mountains call,
   God’s love so sure, shall still endure,
   All measureless and strong;
   Redeeming grace to Adam’s race—
   The saints’ and angels’ song.
3. Could we with ink the ocean fill,
   And were the skies of parchment made,
   Were every stalk on earth a quill,
   And every man a scribe by trade;
   To write the love of God above
   Would drain the ocean dry;
   Nor could the scroll contain the whole,
   Though stretched from sky to sky.

Frederick Lehman

1917

Today's Adventure

     I want to start with this disclaimer.  Catalina, when you read this, don't be upset. This was one of those comical days when nothing went as planned.  You should laugh that sweet laugh and say, "Oh, Miss Vicki," as you shake your head in amusement.  I can see you doing that even now!


     I set out today to conquer a task.  Though it's not always easy to do business for someone else, I have volunteered to do this.  Catalina was ready to go home.  She had been here in America for seven years, away from that house full of brothers and sisters and parents she loves so much.  However, she needs her diploma and transcript sent to the Secretary of State of Tennessee to get an apostille so that Costa Rica will recognize all her hard work to earn her master's degree.  She was so sweet and left written instructions on what to do.  She even left cash to pay the postage!  But every time I have read her notes I felt like this task was not going to be as simple as it seemed in writing.  I even asked her again via FB last week and she assured me all I need to do is follow her instructions. 
     The first lesson for the day...don't listen to men.  Catalina told me to go to the County Clerk's office.  That's what I should have done.  Two men in my life, who shall remain nameless, convinced me I should go to the satellite office.  So I did.  It seemed logical.  SEEMED!  And, it WOULD be easier to go there if the people there could help me.  They couldn't.  That is a tag and title office only.  Those people couldn't understand the Greek that I was speaking.  Understand, I didn't understand the Greek either, I was just repeating what had been written for me to do.  I do want to give a cheer to the woman at the counter.  Teresa.  She made a quick phone call and got the information I needed.
     So I headed off to downtown Chattanooga.  I convinced my husband to drive me to the courthouse so I wouldn't have to pay for parking.  He let me out and I went inside.  Through the metal detector and security.  Up the stairs.  There are only four or five offices on the second floor, so it wasn't hard to find.  (Last time I was there was to get my marriage license in 1985!)  The young woman asked if she could help me.  I laughed and said, "I hope so."  Again I recited the Greek instructions and she nodded in understanding. PROGRESS!  Then she pulled the diploma from it's sacred case.  Looking at it and back at me, she asked, "Who is going to notarize this?"  That's what I wanted to know, and she was asking me!  She was very sweet and explained her process was only to verify that the notary was an actual notary.  That process I understand.  That's something that I have done before. 
     She looked at me and said I could write, "This is an original document," and sign it.  Hmmm.  Is that acceptable?  She didn't know the answer to that.  It's logical.  But, then again, so was going to that satellite office this morning.  I finally said I needed time to think, but I really meant that I needed time to email Catalina for further instructions.  I don't want to mess this up for her.  It's important. 
     Here's the summary of today's adventure...Here was my plan when I left home a few minutes after noon....Run get the diploma stamped and then go to Panera for soup and blogging time.  (The original blog I planned will come later this week.  This is too hilarious to pass up.) After that, Walmart for dishwasher soap and peaches.  Then to Staples to pick up a few items I need.  Instead, I went somewhere I didn't need to be.  To get where I needed to be, I needed to drive on roads I haven't driven down since I quit working downtown thirty years ago.  I got dropped off in front of the courthouse expecting my husband to be circling the block when I came back out.  Nope.  Not on this sunny 92 degree day.  He had gone back to the shop!  I did manage to find some shade and a breeze to wait in, and I didn't dare complain because I didn't have to pay for parking.  Still hadn't had lunch.  Took F O R E V E R to get back to East Brainerd and Panera.  And, the best part ----- I left my cell phone at home!
     How does one survive without her cell phone??  Right now I have finished my baked potato soup and am sipping my green tea with my hubby's dinosaur flip phone lying on the table beside my computer.  He gave it to me when we parted ways just in case I needed it.  I don't know who all these people are calling him, but he sure is going to have a lot of voicemail to listen to tonight!
    Enjoy the adventures of your life, friends!  And praise the Lord for another day of livin'! 

My Three Favorite Mugs

     I have three favorite coffee mugs.  All three were gifts, and I am so glad because I probably wouldn't have spent the money to buy them for myself.  But, I use them often because they each mean something special.  May I share them with you?

    
This mug is obviously seasonal.  I had it tucked away on a top shelf of the kitchen waiting for the right season to use it until one of my kids was home and couldn't find another cup.  As the cabinets were opened and the search for something to use for morning coffee began, this one came out.  When I was doing dishes later in the morning, picking up cups and plates and forks and glasses and spoons and cramming as much as I could into the dishwasher, I was taken aback to have this mug in my hand.  It was seasonally inappropriate.  Thanksgiving was long past.  Hey, even Valentine's Day had come and gone!  I was, quite frankly, appalled. 

     Then I thought, "Why not?"  Why not use this mug all year?  Am I not thankful for each day of life?  Am I not grateful daily for all that God has given me?  Family.  Home.  Friends.  Clothes.  Hair!  Yes. Yes, I am.  So now I use this cup frequently, careful to be aware and to be thankful.

     The second mug I would like to share with you was a Christmas gift with a gentle reminder.

    

     It says, "Each new day is a gift."  How well I know and appreciate that now!  I don't think I did when I first received this mug, though.  During and after cancer (or any other life-altering event), one has a new appreciation for the breaking of the dawn.  I read on a friend's Facebook page just this week:  Live today and live it well! uplift, encourage, exalt! 



     That's my goal.  To live each day looking for every adventure that crosses my path and to live it fully and well.  I write this blog to uplift and encourage YOU in your own walk with Christ.  Praise God he has allowed me to live another day!!

     My last mug is just for fun.



     This mug reminds me to have a little fun every day.  It doesn't relate to a specific season, nor does it convey any words of wisdom.  When I was young my mother too me to see Mary Poppins.  I remember the song, "I Love to Laugh," and how I have enjoyed that song throughout the years.  I DO love to laugh.  I look for the humor in life.  Laughter is good for the soul.  So, when I use this mug I remember to find something in my day to laugh about and enjoy.

     All this has made me realize it is mid-afternoon and time for a coffee-break!  Before I close, I want to remind you to be thankful, celebrate each new day the Lord give you, and find something to laugh about!

     

Early Morning at the Park

     Arriving at the community park early in the morning is a quiet experience.  There are not many people up that early, but as I complete more and more laps, more and more people arrive.  It's an eclectic mix.  There's me, the middle-aged cancer survivor trying to build strength and lose some weight too.  There are the older ladies, who in all reality probably aren't that many years ahead of me.  There's the older man walking a little crooked in his baggy pants and clunky boots, his body obviously tired from many years of hard work.  There's a younger person getting ready for a busy day.  Everyone walks at their own pace.  Some a little slower than others.  Even the ladies who come in the same car split up.  The younger person usually runs.  As we pass, we say, "Good morning."  Sometimes there is a young mom (this morning it was a young dad) pushing her (his) little one in the swing.  The child's giggles of joy fill the air. 
     Usually I will listen to music as I walk, but this morning I heard the Lord as he prompted me...No ear buds.  Enjoy.  So, I left the music turned off in my pocket and walked.  Looking around, enjoying the creation, I found myself learning life lessons from the squirrels.  Look at this picture:

This little guy was chewing on the fence clamp.  Chewing and chewing and chewing.  Even as another lady and I stopped to watch, he didn't run away.  He stayed to continue his chewing.  As you can see, there were plenty of trees.  The were, in fact, plenty of other squirrels scampering and playing and hiding treats in the ground, but he was intent on chewing that metal fence clamp.  I walked past him at first but went back for the picture.  God was teaching me to be careful what I try to consume.  I want to be more aware of what stops me and grabs my attention.  I want to feast on the good stuff.  The delicious, aromatic, and colorful feast He sets in front of me.  I don't want to waste my time on stuff that isn't doing me any good.

     To me that metal clamp represents all the stuff that distracts us from living.  TV, gossip, jealousy, materialism, pettiness, anger, laziness...

     Still without earbuds, I continued to walk and listen to the sounds of nature.  I looked through the fence at the trees.  And I noticed this:

I don't know if you can see it well, but these are some beautiful flowers I had never seen before.  Actually it's a vine.  The flowers are bell shaped and quite unusual.  And then I thought about how many times I read God's word and something new just pops out.  Not because it's never been there before, but because I, at that moment, became aware of it.  There are so many truths and lessons in the Bible that we can't take them all in at one time.  Sometimes, like this vine, you realize that little beauty has been there all along and now that you've seen it, you get to enjoy it.



    When I pulled into the driveway I noticed that my lily is blooming.  It's so pretty and I enjoy it so much.  In our family we call it the Granny Lily because these were Granny's and we transplanted some of them when her house was sold.   

This flower reminds me of my heritage and the legacy I will leave.  It reminds me to continue, through the years, for the generations that follow, to bloom and share the life that God has created for me to live.  It teaches me of the joy that others see when they look at your life and mine and see you and me living out who God created us to be.  It reminds me that little smiles of joy will come over us when we open our eyes to really see the world around us.  

     I love getting up early to go walk.  The cool morning air is refreshing.  And coming home to that first cup of coffee is always something to look forward to.  Most of all, though, I get the thrill of experiencing God and enjoying his handiwork.  I encourage you today to stop what you routinely do and make yourself consciously aware of God at work around you.  Enjoy!

Love It When He Speaks!

     Amazing.  Simply amazing.  Hearing God remind me of His Word this morning as I was walking took my breath away.  You see, my heart is in a struggle.  Hurt and anger are trying to control me.  Defeat is lurking at the door just waiting to get in.  That old saying isn't true.  Words do hurt.
     Over the past week I have received many beautiful words of affirmation over my life.  Encouragement from people who are so kind and generous.  It's a good and pleasant place to be.  But when you let your guard down, allowing that weak spot in your armor to gap open, Satan has an easy target.  And I made it easy for him to hurl that fiery dart and make contact today.
      Pride has a way of doing that to you.  Wanting to be right.  Should've kept my mouth shut and not answered what was not asked.  Should've known that my advice would not be easily accepted.  Should've known that pride was rearing it's ugly head.
      As I walked this morning I knew what was at stake.  I could waller in the self-pity and pain that were trying to consume my thoughts and very quickly become a woman with a bitter and angry heart.  It was one of those times when my spirit had to cry out, "Lord, help!  Don't let me be consumed by this," because I was too bogged down pray much more.  That's when it happened...
     Just a quiet whisper... "Think on these things."  Again.  "Think on these things."  Again and again it came.  What things?  Which things?  Not those things that selfish me wanted to be right about.  Not those thoughts about what I should go back and do or say.  Not the revenge that would make me feel worse in the end.  Gently and quietly He reminded me of what "these things" are. One at a time.  Not really in the order they are written. 
     The first word that came?  Pure.  "Whatever is pure.  Think about that."  Well!  That sure takes the wind out of the sails of your quest for revenge!  Little by little the verse came.  As soon as I got home I grabbed my Bible to look it up.  Even more amazing -- I knew where to look!  Not because I had made an effort to memorize but because God had something to say.  Here it is:

. 

But keep reading.  Look at verse nine. 

What you have learned and received and heard and seen in me

- practice these things, and the God of peace will be with you. 

Philippians 4:8-9

     OH.  MY.  GOODNESS!!  How will I deal with this stab of pain?  What do I choose to think about?  Truth?  Honor?  Purity?  Loveliness?  Commendablility?  Excellence?  Or do I choose my own way?  My own response?  My own evil thoughts and words that will hurt in return?  Will I  practice the things I have heard and learned?  Or will I devise my own method?  Will I be bathed in the peace of God?  Or will I be consumed by thoughts that destroy?
     I choose the peace of God.  It's not easy.  It's been a couple of hours now and I am still struggling.  Satan knows I am weak at this moment and he is hovering like a vulture, just waiting for the right time.  But I have a shepherd who loves to protect me and pour his strength into me so that I many get up and keep on going.  Wrapped up in the blanket of His peace, I choose to think on His things.
 

Getting Locked in the Bathroom

    I’m not necessarily claustrophobic.  Tight places don’t really bother me.  So when I got locked in the bathroom stall at church, at first it was funny.  I turned the knob to retract the bolt that held the door shut.  The knob would turn, but the bolt wouldn’t budge.  I rolled my eyes and groaned.  Ugh.  Seriously? 
     It didn’t work the first time, so I did what anyone would do.  I tried it again.  And again.  And again.  To the point of putting my glasses on and leaning in close so I could see what the problem was.  The problem was that I was locked in!  I laughed at the silliness of it all.  Until I determined that I would not be getting myself out of this situation without help.
     Let me clarify up front that crawling under was never an option.  If you know me, you know that I am quite tall.  And there is just not very much room at all between that toilet and the stall door.  There is no way I could have just sat down in the floor to slide under without hurting myself.  I suppose I could have sat on the toilet and slid off it ever so strategically so that my feet would slide under the door until I was finally seated in the floor and then I could lay down and pull myself under.  Hopefully we shall never know if that option would have worked. 
     Now, in this ultra-modern technological world, you would THINK you could call someone for help.  Nope.  No one was answering calls or texts tonight.  It was when I realized my cell phone was useless that I started to wonder what I was going to do.  I could yell for help.  But the class across from the bathroom was the little kids.  I didn’t want to scare any of them.  I could wait until someone came.  I could call my husband who had gone to check on his mom.  But he probably wouldn’t answer the phone either. 
     Then it happened.  I heard the door to the bathroom open.  It was a beautiful sound.  Help had arrived!  At least another person in the world knew of my awkward predicament.  Finally our pastor came along and was sure he could just walk in the room and the door would open.  It didn’t.  At this point there was an audience in the hallway, so I climbed up on top of the toilet to see who all was out there and passed my phone off so that there would be a photo to preserve the memory.  And Pastor did manage to get me out.
     It was an adventure I’ve never had before, that’s for sure.  It is an adventure I don’t want to have again. 
     This is where I have to confess.  I knew the door stuck.  I had been in that same stall a couple of weeks ago, and I had to wrangle the knob to make it unlatch and let me out then.  So, why did I go in there?  I forgot.  Really, I did…but I remembered very quickly.
     I can’t help but think about sin and how we keep going back to it.  Even though we know it is a trap that Satan has set before us and that sooner or later we are going to get stuck there, we act as if it will never happen.  Two specific temptations stand out to me right now. 

“One more time isn’t going to matter.”  Well, one more time was all it took for me!

“Who’s going to know?”  EVERYONE!  Because a crowd will gather and people will watch when you are in a tough spot.  Oh, AND there might be a camera and there might be a picture and there might even be a blog about it!

My Nest Is Empty

     Last year I watched a momma and daddy robin build a nest at my kitchen window.  Soon there were eggs and before I new it, hatchlings.  We watched them grow daily, the mom and dad bringing worms and cleaning out the nest.  They grew so quickly, and it wasn't long before the biggest birdie was out of the nest.  One day we found one of the fledglings in the yard making his own way in the world, and when I went to check again, the nest was empty.
     It's been almost eight years since we sent Caitlin off to college.  She was close, so she came home often that first year.  Then, the more involved she got in her school, the less she came home.  We got used to being here alone, my husband and I.  Three years ago, we moved our sweet Catalina into our home for what was originally planned as a one year term.  Through God's direction, she stayed with us for three years.  Now Caitlin is living twelve hours away, and Catalina has gone home to her family.
     It's only been a little over a week, and this house has gotten very quiet.  But, like that momma and daddy robin, we have done what we could to raise our own child and guide and mentor our adopted child.  Watching them step out and become the women God has created them to be, I am blessed beyond measure.  They are following his call and are working to learn all they can in order to fulfill that calling.
     I watch Caitlin do what she has always talked about - since she could talk.  And I will never forget the day when, after meeting with the woman who would become her friend and mentor, Catalina came home and said, "Do you know what she does?!"  It was at that moment that she knew without doubt what her path would be.  What more could a mother want?
     My prayer is that these two ladies, my daughters, one by birth and one by God's intervention, will continue to walk hand-in-hand with their Lord.  They are on different paths, but with amazingly similar purposes.   I pray they never lose focus of what they know is His divine calling upon their lives.  Caitlin and Catalina, may you each pursue with abandon the passions that lie deep inside your hearts, helping those who can't help themselves.  May your ears listen with compassion.  May you offer hope to the hopeless, encouraging the one who has a huge obstacle to keep trying and never give up.  When the burdens get heavy, and they will, I encourage you to make the time steal away to Jesus.
     The difference between my nest and that of the robins?  This one won't be torn down with the new season, abandoned now that the babies are gone.  This one will always be the place where love abounds.  Where support for your adventures springs forth.  Where you can come and be welcomed into my open arms.  My nest may be empty, but my heart is full.

Let's Party!

     I just love a good party!  I love to throw a party and have people in my home enjoying each other's company.  I especially love having a backyard full of families, children running and laughing, adults talking and hugging babies, food and more food, decorations, and desserts.  I love the fun of planning it all.  I am certainly a planner.  What colors?  Is there a theme?  What food?  Who to invite?  I start making a list and that list grows into multiple lists.  I scribble and mark out.  I think and rethink.  It gets my blood going!
     I was able to invite people to my home this week to celebrate the accomplishments of my Costa Rican daughter.  She has worked hard and achieved her master's degree and will be heading home to be with her family for a while after three years living with us and seven years total in America working on her degrees.  We are so proud of her!  We wanted everyone we know to have a time to congratulate her and have a chance to say goodbye.  We had a great time!  But there were many obstacles and it seemed like it was a party not meant to be.
     Time was quickly getting away from us as the semester came to an end and Catalina would be leaving very soon, so it didn't matter what stood in the way or how many things might go wrong, this party had to happen.  Quickly.  I worked for days in the flower beds getting them ready for summer and for company.  It's the most physical labor I have done for over a year, and it quickly wore me out.  I was not to be outdone.  Sure, I was exhausted, but I wanted this to be a grand night for Catalina.  I ordered part of the food and cooked part of the food.  I wanted to make some delicious desserts...and that's where the trouble began.
     I made my chocolate cake on Sunday, and all went well for that.  Later Sunday I mixed up the cake I was looking forward to the most --- the strawberry pound cake.  Just the thought of it makes my mouth water!  As I was multi-tasking and planting some flowers in pots while the cake cooked, I went inside to check the cake and found the start of trouble.  The top element of my oven had come back on and stayed that way.  The top of the cake was black and burned.  I turned the oven off and grabbed the cake to take it outside.  There was smoke filling the house.  It was bad enough, but it could have been much worse.
     On Monday morning I got ready to make the banana pudding.  I grabbed the vanilla wafers, which someone had been eating, and barely had enough to make the dessert.  I sliced the bananas and got them ready.  I poured the pudding mix into the pan and measured the milk.  I turned on the stove and turned to put the measuring cup in the sink.  I picked up my whisk and began to stir a pot of quickly thickening pudding.  How could it be so thick so quick?  The pan wasn't even warm yet.  Ugh.  Double ugh.  Instant pudding.  You just don't use instant pudding for banana pudding.  You just don't.  But I had no choice. 
     I had to take my mother to the doctor that afternoon so that meant a few hours away from the house.  It wasn't a big deal, I had plenty of time.  We got back in time for me to bake another strawberry pound cake.  I turned the oven on to preheat and started measuring and mixing.  After pouring the batter into the pan, I realized that even though the preheat light had gone off, the top element had not.  Being that I have the BEST neighbors in the world, I called and asked them to turn the oven on because I had a cake that needed to be baked.  They called an hour later to tell me to come get it.  Finally, I had my strawberry cake!  In my rush to get the party going, I put the glaze on the hot cake and it melted into it.  Apparently that made it better, or so everyone said. They ate it all, but it wasn't the perfect cake with beautiful pink glaze that I had envisioned.
    And, I couldn't put meringue on the make-shift banana pudding because my oven was totally uncooperative.  All of that could get a girl down!  I wanted things to be perfect and they just were not going to be.  Later I would realize that the beans had burned in the crock pot.  How did that happen?  I've cooked these beans in that crock pot many, many times with no problems.  C'est la vie.  That's life. 
     People started arriving.  It was time for the party to begin!  My back yard filled with people.  Friends and family coming to wish Catalina well and send her off with much love.  I stood on the porch overlooking the yard and relished all the smiles, chatter, and laughter that filled the air.  Yes.  It was a good party.  Even though some things didn't go the way I wanted them to, it was a good party.
     As the sun set and evening settled over the earth, our friends and family began to leave.  We were tired, but it was the best kind of tired there is.  Satisfaction that you were able to provide people a good time.  Pleasure that Catalina's accomplishments were celebrated with people who loved her.  Gratification that we had a relaxed and very pleasant evening with people we love.
     I was reading Psalm 150 and couldn't help but think about how much effort I put into celebrating God.  Shouldn't it be a celebration every time I spend time with Him?  A special time.  A special place.  Or maybe it's the only time you have today.  Maybe the place is ordinary, filled with people, nothing spectacular.  What is important is that you take time to talk, listen, laugh, and maybe even cry.  Just like we had an evening to celebrate a master's degree, I need to be deliberately aware and celebrate what God has done.  He created this beautiful world.  It's May and the world is blooming.  The days are warmer (hot today, actually); the nights are deliciously cool.  Everywhere you look right now there are beautiful white blooms on the blackberry bushes.  The trees are green.  Reds.  Oranges.  Yellows.  Pinks.  Purples.  It's a wonderful world, indeed. 
     More than that, I want to daily, very intentionally, very purposefully, with eyes wide open, celebrate Jesus.  Now, that's a party!  Psalm 150 says this:

Praise the Lord!

Praise God in his sanctuary;

              praise him in his mighty heavens!

Praise him for his mighty deeds;

                                   praise him according to his excellent greatness!

Praise him with trumpet sound;

       praise him with lute and harp!

Praise him with tambourine and dance;

           praise him with strings and pipe!

Praise him with sounding cymbals;

                     praise him with loud clashing cymbals!

Let everything that has breath praise the Lord!

Praise the Lord!

     So, as Lynyrd Skynyrd says, "Turn it up!"  Turn up the music and sing praises to the Lord your God!  You don't need to wait for a party.  You don't have to spend time making lists and more lists.  You don't have to spend time preparing food and setting up tables and chairs.  You don't have to invite anyone.  And you definitely don't need special decorations.  Just praise the Lord!  Have a few minutes at home alone?  Turn the praise music up on the radio and dance around the house.  Throw your arms up in the air with abandon.  Give yourself totally over to the joy of celebrating your new life in Jesus.  Rejoice over him. Exult, revel, celebrate, delight, enjoy, glory, triumph, be overjoyed, be glad, feel happy, jump for joy...all because of Jesus!  If you don't get happy over Jesus, I don't know what else you can get happy about!  So come on, let's party!

The Day After Easter...

     What now?  Do we just pack up the bunnies and the eggs?  Do we store the baskets and chow down on the candy?  Easter has come and gone.  Will it be just another holiday, like Christmas?  Do we just put all the decorations away and get back to normal life?
     I can't!  My life isn't normal.  I.  Am. Alive.  I have so much to celebrate with each new dawn and so much life left to enjoy.  Some of you reading this will automatically think about the cancer.  And that's ok.  However, there is so much more.  There was a day, not all that long ago, when sin ruled my life.  That is, until the day Jesus saved me.  I thank God my life isn't normal.  It's an adventure meant to be savored, even on the darkest of days.  It's like working a puzzle.
     I've been enjoying working jig-saw puzzles on my iPad lately.  The brightly colored pieces are usually easier for me to place and the dark, black pieces sometimes seem impossible.  Isn't that what life is like?  We think everything is perfect when we can see clearly and things are going well.  But when things are tough, in those dark times, life seems to become impossible.  I admit that I take advantage of the hints and sometimes pull the background up so I can see where the pieces are supposed to fit.  (You may call it cheating...I call limiting my frustrations.)
     I got a surprise package of puzzles at the first of April.  There are no pictures of what the puzzles will look like.  I can't pull up a background hint.  I just get the pieces and have to put it together.  Sure, after a little while, I start to get an idea of what I'm working with, but there are always surprises before I finish.  I really love working these because I have to stop and look at the detail of the pieces, take my time, and search to see where they fit with what's already on the board.   
     Then I started thinking about my life.  It's like that puzzle.  The days, months, and years are the pieces.  God puts them together and paints a beautiful picture that is constantly changing.  People, places, and events.  He is aware of every detail.  Details I often miss and don't pay attention to.  None of it is a surprise to Him.  You know how sometimes there is just a little dot of color on the edge of the puzzle piece, but you have to look closely to see it and then you search and search for that one other piece it will fit against?  So, as they say, are the days of my life. 

     I believe He has a plan.  I believe He knows what the picture will look like when the last piece of the puzzle is put in place.  He didn't bring me this far to just walk away.  I'll let you in on a secret.  There is one puzzle that frustrated me so much that I just stopped working it.  God's not going to do that, and THAT is NOT secret!  He never gives up on me.  He will never give up on you.  Friend, I tell you assuredly, God has a plan for your life.  He knitted you together in your mother's womb.  He came to earth and suffered death on a cross, a horrible, torturous death.  BUT GOD! In the same way we celebrated last Sunday, we must and should celebrate each new morning because of the resurrection of Jesus.  Because He conquered death and rose from that grave we can trust Him to put the pieces of our lives together, the pieces that are bright and fun and the pieces that are dark and mysterious. 

     So, put the bunnies and baskets away.  Enjoy the candy.  Enjoy living!  Because He lives, we CAN face tomorrow.  Because He lives, we know that each piece of life's puzzle will be perfectly placed.  Personally, I hope there are many, many, MANY more pieces of my puzzle left!



He Made the Stars

     I love looking at the sky at night.  Sometimes when I am waiting on my husband to get his boots on so we can leave for wherever we are headed, I will go outside and stand on the driveway, looking up at the stars.  Some are easily seen.  They are there, visible and clear to the naked eye.  Some, however, are not so easily seen.  Their shimmer catches your eye, but you just can't get a clear focus on them. 
     The depth of the sky intrigues me.  As I stood there the other night, straining to see what was just beyond view, I couldn't help but sing.  Here's a link to Selah singing this beautiful song... https://youtu.be/SKDujmtyAVk
     It's the first couple of lines that I was thinking about:

How deep the Father's love for us,

How vast beyond all measure...

Deeper (more mysterious, more secret, more unfathomable) than the farthest reaches of space, that's how much the Father loves me.  And you.  As vast (extensive, expansive, broad, boundless, immeasurable, limitless, and infinite) as the sky and the stars that light it, that's how much the Father loves me.  And you.  As I stood there trying to see, I realized I could never see the end.  In the same way, I can never see the end of God's love.  He is the creator of the universe.  He is the lover of my soul.  He knows the number of stars in space, and He knows the number of hairs on my head. 

     Go outside tonight and stare up at the stars.  He placed each one in it's place.  They don't move.  Look over at the Big Dipper.  Those stars in a straight line forming the bottom of the cup...they are steady and true.  Reliable.  A sailor can look up and find his way home by following the stars.  They are placed there by the One who placed YOU right here, right now.  He is steady and true.  Faithful to love you.  He gave His only son to make you His treasure.  He is reliable, and by looking to Him you can find your way home.

As we get ready to celebrate Easter, I encourage you to remember that Jesus is the reason for this season.  He suffered and died for you.  He conquered death and then rose from the grave for you.  We must understand that he went through brutal beatings and excruciating pain so that we could experience the beauty of forgiveness for our sins and stand before God cleansed by his blood.  The bunnies and chicks are cute.  But don't take your eye off the cross.  For without the cross there would not be reason to celebrate.  Without the cross we could never know the depth and vastness of His love for us.

    

     



Sneaking in Those Green Peas!

     Today I had the best time with the Lord!  You know how your mom used to sneak the green peas into your mashed potatoes?  Well, sometimes that's the way it is with blessings.  We think we know what we want, make our plans accordingly, and proceed without much thought to the process. For me, I would dig into those potatoes and leave the peas to the side, no thought given.  They may be good for me, but they aren't my favorite.  Mom would sneak them into the potatoes to get me to eat them.  Today He snuck some peas in and I couldn't help but smile. 
     I knew last night that this was going to be a busy morning.  My mother-in-law had an appointment at 8:50 with a doctor and I had a very important meeting at 10:00.  I planned to get up early - had to get my new hair fixed! - and get to the doctor's office way early in hopes of being seen quicker and getting to my own appointment on time. 
     I jumped up and headed to the shower at 6:30.  Since cool weather set in a few months ago, I have gotten into the habit of sleeping until after seven. To be totally honest, I've really established a routine of getting up by 7:30, taking the dog out, feeding him, making my coffee, watching the morning news, getting some breakfast, another cup of coffee, and finally getting dressed about 10:00.  Easy, restful mornings that sound wonderful, but it is not really the way I want my days to go.  Maybe it comes from being at my desk by 7:00 a.m. for so many years, but I like getting the day going early.  It's just been so easy to stay under the quilt in this cold weather!  These past few days, though, I have been thinking a lot about changing my routine. 
     Well, it turns out my new hair doesn't take all that long to fix, and I was ready quicker than I thought I would be this morning.  So, by 7:20 I was dressed and ready to go.  Normally I am just rolling out of bed!   I had my hair done, makeup on, was dressed, had time to enjoy my coffee and have my breakfast, AND get out the door by 8:00.  We made all our appointments in plenty of time...even though it took fifteen minutes for the valets to get my car and bring it up.  
     Our moms sneak the peas in because they know we won't partake just because they tell us to.  We want the mashed potatoes because they are easy and creamy and comfortable.  The peas are green, healthy, different, and only fun for toddlers to chase across the high-chair tray, but that's just my opinion.  God showed me this morning that my comfort can come with things that are good for me.  Getting up and ready early are good things, and make my day go much smoother.  Starting the day ready for whatever I need to do brings with it an attitude of success and confidence. 
     I looked up the definition of comfort and it said this:  a state or situation in which you are relaxed ...  and I discovered that God gave me a busy morning to get me up early and get my day going.  It broke my routine and gave me insight into what I am missing.  I am much more relaxed, and even though I had a busy start, I have gotten so much accomplished in the short time I have been home.  He directed my paths.  He interrupted my routine and showed me that switching things up and breaking the routine can bring comfort of a different kind.
     Taste and see that the Lord is good! (Psalm 34:8)  He may slip some peas into your day, but if you try them, you may like them!  

The First Year

     This time a year ago I was starting to lose my hair.  I've never been a glam girl, so it wasn't especially traumatic for me, but today I got my first real hair cut and style since chemo began and it feels amazing.  I love my new look!  Gray hair and all.  May I share this journey with you?
     About two weeks after your first dose of A&C, that mean chemo that makes you so sick, your hair starts to come out.  Knowing this, my husband and I made an appointment and went wig shopping before my chemo started.  The lady at The Wig Palace was so sweet and kind.  She is a cancer survivor, so she was very empathetic.  We had fun that day trying on new looks.  Since Caitlin wasn't here and was dealing with this diagnosis so far away from us, we took silly pictures and sent them to her.  We laughed a lot that day, especially when Connally was the one trying on the hair! It seems so long ago now.
     I liked the wig we picked.  I liked the look - it wasn't anything my real hair would ever do.  I guess they don't make naturally curly wigs.  I liked the color.  I liked the style.  Oh, but I hated wearing that thing.  I only did it for the kids at school.  The big kids would have rallied and been very supportive, but kindergarteners are just so little.  I didn't want to burden their little hearts.  Everyday when I left school there was a ball cap in the seat and I would switch from hair to cap as soon as I was passed the playground and out of sight.  Once school was out and I was retired, the wig went into the box and onto the top shelf of the closet.  Hats became my everyday attire.
     It didn't take long after chemo for my hair to start coming back.  Now we know what the real color is.  I love the gray, and I'm believing my friends who say I look younger.  The question was, what about the curl?  I loved my curly, wash and wear hair.  Since most people who had straight hair report their hair came back curly, would mine be straight?  Funny, but that was the thing that bothered me.  I wanted my curls.
     My sweet friend, Betty Jo, ministered to me by shaving my hair down really short for the shedding days.  She prayed over me.  She even sang to me.  It was a precious time and she made me feel so special.  Then, as my hair came back in she would trim and snip and try to get some shape out of the mess.  Yes, I got my curls.  Most of them.  The back is really curly, the top, not so much.  But that's ok.  I also hoped it would come back thicker, but it didn't.  That's ok, too.  This is definitely better than it was six months ago. 
     That brings us to today.  I went to see Betty Jo and she worked her magic.  I've never had a hairstyle that I loved like this!  I hope I will be able to reproduce this tomorrow morning!  I may have to sleep with my head wrapped in tissue paper, sitting up, so as not to disturb her masterpiece.
     Now that your curiosity is up, I will share a picture along with some from the past year. 

    This was on my last day of chemo - no eyelashes or eyebrows...

     This was made after my first survivor walk...there was a little bit...

This is today....

...It's been a few days since I started this blog.  I am happy to report that I once again own a blow-dryer and round brush.  It's easy to keep and I am able to maintain the look! 

     What have I learned?  It doesn't matter whether you have hair or not.  It matters that you are alive. What you look like isn't the point.  The point is that you do your best to reflect the Lord.