Stronger

Do you ever read something, consider it, pass it by, look at it later, contemplate it more, and then finally apply it? Are you sometimes slow to pick up on an important point? Do you sometimes have to reread something to get the point? Do you sometimes have to ask someone to repeat what they said so you understand it? Many of these situations can make us feel inadequate or inferior. 

One day I found myself laying on my bed in a sad state of mind. Life's negative pressures were a little strong that day. As I lay on my bed, I looked at the wall opposite the foot of our bed. There was a picture Tim had gotten for me. The wall was empty when he came home with the picture, so we hung it there. I'd often read the verse on the picture, but didn't give it much thought. We have several pieces of wall art that have a verse of scripture, and this was one of them. As I lay there, my eyes kept being drawn to the verse. I read it over, and over, and over again (remember the question earlier about having to reread something?). I'd read this verse many times since we first hung it on the wall. Today it took on new meaning. My eyes seemed glued. Our room has 'stuff' in it, so there was plenty of other things that could have gotten my attention. This picture, on this day, at this moment was what my soul was needing. It's what my soul was hungry to hear. It had hung on our wall for a couple years, and here on this day was when it finally sunk in. It's simple. It's life changing. It's encouraging. It's an attitude changer. 

Be Strong in the Lord. Ephesians 6:10

There it is. That's all. Five little words. Powerful. 

To my feelings of inadequacy.....'Be Strong in the Lord'
To my feelings of inferiority......'Be Strong in the Lord'
In my stress......'Be Strong in the Lord'
In my doubt......'Be Strong in the Lord'
When I'm sad......'Be Strong in the Lord'
When misunderstood.......'Be Strong in the Lord'
When standing for what is right......'Be Strong in the Lord'
Praying for a sick loved one......'Be Strong in the Lord'
When my attitude stinks......'Be Strong in the Lord'

On that day, Jesus and I had a 'come to Jesus' meeting, right there on the bed. I finally took time to slow down and see what I'd been missing for a couple years. I reread it over and over again. I felt God was repeating himself over and over, each time I read it. Scripture has been around for thousands of years. The bible has been written in many translations. The words are ancient, but each time I read them they come to life. Each time I read, they take on new meaning for me depending upon my life's circumstances. God's word is alive, changing and evolving, yet remaining the same. Days like this day, when a verse that has been hanging on my wall for a couple years suddenly comes alive for me, it's like I've seen it for the first time. It's just what I needed, this day. 

After a little while, I picked myself up off the bed. My path in life doesn't always go where I want it to, or how I want it to. God met me right where I was on this day, and gave this to me......'Be Strong in the Lord'. 

My Man's Hands

Often I get on 'kicks'. Finding something new that interest me, running with it a while until it fizzles out, and then moving on.  This cycle has created regret sometimes because of not following thru with some of the better ideas. Usually it's something like a new technique, a new craft, a new healthy habit, a new skill, a new hobby, a new attempt at a stay at home job, or even a new social media kick like a blog. About 10 years ago I was on a kick where writing a book sounded like a good idea. I had heard 'everyone has at least one book in them'. The Chicken Soup series of books interested me, and I had a book idea I felt had potential to generate a following as well. My book idea consisted of the title 'My Man's Hands'. Interested people could submit a photo of their man at work, play, or whatever the submitter enjoyed the most about their man. They would submit a story with the photo explaining why they enjoyed their man doing that particular thing. The submitted photo would need to have an emphasis on the hands. The photos and the stories would be compiled into a book, and submitted for publication.

A man uses his hands in a multitude of ways, and I find it romantic. Tim is a good sport, and so he posed his hands for a photo intended for my book. The photo is stuck in an external back up hard drive from an old computer, and so far I've been unable to get it out. If I am successful at retrieving the picture in the near future, I will definitely share it. It is not anything earth shattering. He was a great sport posing for my 'kick' that year, and it definitely deserves a spot in this blog. A couple weeks ago I came across a printed copy of a draft of the intended website. It had been sent to me by the web designer I used to create the website where people could submit their stories. The draft reminded me of my book intentions. It prompted me to track down photos of Tim doing some of the things he does best. I was happy to find my man's hands working, playing, flying, socializing, volunteering, and a multitude of other tasks. I wanted to share the photos because the heart of this man is multi-faceted, and has been a joy to watch over the years.

I know it seems strange to crop the heads off of these photos. I want the focus to be on the hands. The hands of a man are a marvelous thing.

Precise hands at a drafting table completing land surveys.

Passionate hands on 'Ole N5272U'.

Tender hands cut the cake in unison.

Energetic and careful hands make a safe ride for neighborhood kids.

Steadying hands prevent a fall.

Working hands complete many jobs.

Helping hands used at many church functions.

Farming hands for a multitude of tasks. 

Loving hands give Granny a hug.

Compassionate and respectful hands read scripture at Grandpa's funeral.

Guiding hands maneuver a sawmill to precisely cut lumber.

Nurturing hands teach a grandson how to work.

Farming hands plant sorghum for molasses.

Pumping hands provide much needed water for residents of Ghana, West Africa.

Educating hands teach a grandson how to use big boy toys.

Nurturing hands teach a grandson how to be self sufficient.

Volunteering hands share a passion with a grandson.

Mission hands fulfill a desire to serve, by drilling water wells.

Inspecting hands learn about the soil of Africa.

Giving hands take time to provide for some in need.

Cautious hands take mammaw for a ride on a Harley.

Piggy Back hands take his kids for a ride.

The hands of 'my' man are a marvelous thing!

Thessalonians 5:14 And we urge you, brothers, admonish the idle, encourage the fainthearted, help the weak, be patient with them all.

Romans 12:11-12 Never be lazy, but work hard and serve the Lord enthusiastically. Rejoice in our confident hope. Be patient in trouble, and keep on praying.

A Treat

Beginning December 19, 2015 a chain of events happened that scared me to my core. The helpless feeling of not being able to do anything to fix the situation left me reeling with fear. On Friday December 18 our grandson had been running a low grade temperature and had thrown up 3 times. On Saturday evening of the 19th, my daughter called me. He had been getting sicker all day, and was running a fever of 104. He was throwing up everything, and wasn't keeping any medicine in his stomach to bring the fever down. She was frantic. We loaded him into the car and headed to the emergency room. At the emergency room the triage nurse took his vitals, and gave him medicine to settle his stomach. Additional medicine was given to bring the temperature down. After some time in the waiting room, we were transferred to an exam room. After a series of questions, an exam, urine test, strep test swab, and x-rays it was determined he had a fever virus, and it should run it's course over a few days. If it got worse we could bring him back to the ER, or take him to his pediatrician. Having an ER only 20 minutes away, Praise God!

Scare #1
Sunday and Monday did not bring any relief to his little body. His temperature stayed high, and keeping any food down was almost unheard of. Two calls to the pediatricians office on Monday the 21st, helped give reassurance his symptoms indeed sounded like a fever virus. When Tuesday the 22nd rolled around, and he didn't seem to be getting any better we called the pediatricians office once again. Being persistent about his symptoms of labored breathing with a respiratory rate of 60 and pulse ox ranging 89-95, they agreed to work him in at 3:40. After the doctor examined him, and got more x-rays, it was determined he needed to go to Arkansas Children's Hospital Emergency Room ASAP. He had pneumonia, was dehydrated, and his bowels were backed up. They said my daughter could only stop by her house long enough to pack a quick overnight bag, but not to waste anytime. Having a pediatricians office in the same town our grandson lives, Praise God!

Scare #2
At ACH ER they were waiting for him. The pediatricians office had called ahead and prepared the ER for his arrival. He was given a full exam, and asked a multitude of questions about his health. After several hours in the ER it was confirmed he had pneumonia in his lower left lung, was dehydrated, had blocked bowels, and needed to be admitted. He was immediately started on IV antibiotics, 1 liter of oxygen, and admitted to a regular room. He was settled into his room about 1:30 am on December 23. With labored breathing, high fever, and lots of body pain. He got little sleep. The ER put him on a broad spectrum IV antibiotic. Prayers for healing began. Mid morning of December 23 when his breathing became more labored, more x-rays were taken. From the x-ray they thought there was fluid around the lung, and prepared to do a procedure to insert a drain tube. They did an ultrasound to confirm the fluid. The ultrasound didn't show any fluid, so they decided not to insert a drain tube. The pneumonia had rapidly spread. What was originally in his lower left lung now consumed the lower half of his left lung. Having Arkansas Children's Hospital less than an hour from home, Praise God!

Scare #3
Late night on the the 23rd our floor nurse 'Brandon' (I thank God for this observant and efficient nurse), quickly jumped into action. A request was made to move him to PICU (Pediatric Intensive Care Unit) because of his worsening pneumonia. More x-rays had showed his whole left lung was involved and was considered a 'white out'. The X-ray looked like a white blob on his left side. His ribs were barely distinguishable. Once again they said there was fluid on his lungs and they were making preparations again to insert a drain tube. Arriving in PICU was unlike any experience I've ever had. These nurses and doctors thrive on attending to and caring for sick babies. Their passion for helping the little ones can best be seen by the looks on their faces when a new patient arrives. I can't adequately explain what I saw on their faces when we arrived, but it was like his mother and I were not even on the planet. All eyes were on him. Their care was for him. Their compassion was for him. Their concern was for him. Their love was for him. He was quickly put on high flow oxygen and a 2nd antibiotic. It seemed the journey was getting longer. Mid morning on December 24th, he was taken to have an ultrasound to determine if it was fluid, and how much. For the second time, the ultrasound didn't show any fluid, and a drain tube would not have to be put in. At some point on the 24th a 3rd antibiotic was added to his regimen. It was Christmas Eve. The pneumonia seemed to be on a rampage. For exceptional nurses, Praise God!

Christmas Day, December 25, they started introducing him into a clear liquid diet. We felt like progress was finally being made. The pulmonologist said they definitely could hear more air moving in his left lung!! Perhaps the antibiotics were starting to work. It was a good Christmas Day. We started seeing improvement, Praise God!

Scare #5
December 26. What a good day. He woke up hungry. Ate a biscuit with jelly, and was sitting up playing. We got news he would be going to a regular room, no step down room but a regular room. It couldn't get any better. Praise God!.............well, not so quick. Yes praise God, but not so quick celebrating him getting better.. Always praise God, but sometimes things change, and it did. During the afternoon and evening of the 26th he took a turn for bad. His lungs got worse once again. He had increased chest pain and labored breathing. Some of his pain was from a build up of air in his stomach from the high flow oxygen. They transferred him to IMU (Intermediate Medical Unit - a step down unit) on the evening of the 26th for closer observation. He stayed in IMU on the 27th, received a CT scan in the afternoon, and received results that evening.  What he had avoided twice before seemed evident this time there was definitely fluid around his left lung. They said the fluid amount was significant, and a drain tube would be inserted the following morning. He would remain in the IMU unit until the procedure, and then return back to PICU once again. Fevers were still spiking at 103-104. Prayers were continuing. There is providential care even on a bad day, Praise God!

Scare #6
The morning of the 28th a drain tube was inserted at his left lung. The initial drainage amount was 800 cc. He was put on a breathing tube. Another tube was inserted into one nostril to help remove some of the air that was accumulating in his stomach, causing it to bloat, and cause pain. He would be kept sedated for the next 24 hours. During the night of the 28th they installed a feeding tube to get him much needed nourishment. He hadn't had a decent meal in about 10 days. He was loosing a lot of weight, but we could not tell it because of swelling from fluids and bloating from air in stomach. A catheter was also installed during the night of the 28th. His movements were limited, and they were keeping him sedated. They did another chest x-ray on the morning of the 29th, and there was improvement!! His breathing was better, and most of his breathing was on his own. Fluid drained was increasing, and was up to 1700 cc. He was resting better than he had in days, and he could shake his head to answer yes and no questions. He wanted to so desperately to talk, and tried without much success. Sometimes when we feel we cannot endure anymore, relief comes. God is good!

Scare #7
On the 30th there was talk about removing the breathing tube. He was still swelling and they were giving him meds to reduce swelling, however they did not seem to be working. With 3 antibiotics running thru his little body, and all kinds of other meds his kidneys were taking a hit. His kidneys had been injured. They were cutting back on his meds that filtered thru his kidneys. They would spend the next few days closely monitoring his kidney function. Our bodies ability to heal, God is good!

December 31: The catheter was taken out and he was taken off high flow oxygen. His stomach pump, and his feeding tube was removed. He was introduced to a low sodium bland diet. Hallelujah!

Happy New Year!! Today was a strong turning point. His chest tube was removed. The amount of fluid removed from his left lung grew to a total of 2700 cc. (2000 cc is the same as a 2 liter coke). All he had on was a blood pressure cuff, oxygen, and a pulse ox monitor. He was finally eating real food. God is certainly good!

January 3: Oxygen was taken completely off. He stood up for the first time in 2 weeks. His legs were 'wobbly', as he called it. He could barely stand up, and barely made it 10 feet across the room to sit in a chair. I was going to leave the hospital for a little bit, go home to clean up, and come back to stay the night. I asked him if there was anything I could bring back for him. He said 'yes, bring back a treat for all the sick boys and girls'. A compassionate heart. Praise God!

January 4: We did a happy dance this day. He was finally going home!!

Crows for me

Two days of continuous rain had everything soaked. Two days of no sunshine made everything feel blah. Two days of being forced inside created cabin fever. Sitting in the den, looking outside, I saw three crows seeming to enjoy the drizzling rain. As I looked at them, I wondered if anyone ever wished they were a crow. If people were to imagine themselves being a bird I would think they would want to be an eagle, or a blue bird, or a cardinal, or some other interesting and beautiful bird. Who would want to be crow? Why would someone want to be crow? The bird we would choose to be are the one's with beautiful colors, one's that could fly the fastest, one's that could sing the prettiest songs. A crow has none of the traits we consider to be desirable. Even a crow's sound can be loud and annoying, caw-caw. Who would want to go around all day saying caw-caw, caw-caw? Even a crow's color may not be the most desirable. Who wants to be a black bird when you can be a blue, or red, or yellow bird? Often times in the fall when outside riding a horse, or walking, or attempting hunting, it seems like crows are nature's alarm system. They seem to tell everything within half a mile I am outside.  I don't recall seeing crows in the summer months, but every fall they faithfully show up to charm us with their caw-caw. A crow, I am sure, has a purpose. I'm certain there are people who find them fascinating and beautiful. 

As I saw the crows in the back yard, I started wondering about their purpose. What purpose could a black cawing bird have? My intent was to write this blog about how everything has a purpose, even crows. Wanting to know a little more about crows I visited Dr. Google. Copied and pasted below is the second article I came across. I had my moment of amazement, and it was not what I expected. I never made it to an article about what purpose a crow could have. I was intrigued by this article, and was satisfied this is what I needed to learn from crows. 

American Crows are highly social birds, more often seen in groups than alone. In addition to roosting and foraging in numbers, crows often stay together in year-round family groups that consist of the breeding pair and offspring from the past two years. The whole family cooperates to raise young. Winter roosts of American Crows sometimes number in the hundreds of thousands. Often admired for their intelligence, American Crows can work together, devise solutions to problems, and recognize unusual sources of food. Some people regard this resourcefulness and sociality as an annoyance when it leads to large flocks around dumpsters, landfills, and roosting sites; others are fascinated by it. American Crows work together to harass or drive off predators, a behavior known as mobbing. - https://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/american_crow/lifehistory

Aren't we highly social people, more often seen in groups than alone?
Don't we often stay together in life-long family groups?
Doesn't it take our whole family cooperating to raise our young?
Aren't we the most intelligent specie on the planet, and work together, devise solutions to problems, and recognize unusual sources of food?
Aren't we resourceful, and aren't we sometimes socially annoying?
And this is my favorite.....
Shouldn't we be working together to harass and drive off our greatest predator, satan? Shouldn't we be mobbing satan on behalf of those we love and care for?

"Somebody's Prayin'"

Somebody's prayin, I can feel it
Somebody's prayin' for me
Mighty hands are guiding me
To protect what I can't see
Lord I believe, Lord I believe
That somebody's prayin', for me.

Angels are watchin', I can feel it
Angels are watchin' over me
There's many miles ahead 'til I get home
Still I'm safely kept before your throne
'Cause Lord I believe, Lord I believe
Your angels are watchin' over me.

Well, I've walked through barren wilderness
When my pillow was a stone
And I've been through the darkest caverns
Where no light had ever shown.
Still I went on 'cause there was someone
Who was down on their knees
And Lord. I thank you for those people
Prayin' all this time for me.

Somebody's prayin', I can feel it
Somebody's prayin' for me
Mighty hands are guiding me
To protect me from what I can't see
Lord I believe, Lord I believe
Somebod's prayin' for me...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mHtWhnZU2Xo

This song is in my iTunes playlist. It often rolls around to play. It's encouraging that perhaps someone was praying for me in a time of trouble. It also encourages me to pray for others that come to mind who are facing trouble and difficulties.

Seeing crows has taken on a different meaning for me.

What do we say?

Singing and music have never been a strength of mine. If I ever sing in the shower, I make sure no one is around. If I sing while driving down the road, I make sure the music is so loud I can't even hear myself. Singing at church is done in a muffled tone, so not to scare the congregation off before they get to hear the preacher. Needless to say, I can't carry a tune in a bucket. Some of my family are blessed with the gift of a beautiful voice. However, this gift was not one God chose for me.  Occasionally I get the privilege of standing beside or in front of a lady who has a voice as beautiful as an angel. I'm always secretly hoping the people in front of me think it's me who has that magnificent voice. Well....... my wish finally came true. I was singing at our ladies bible study during the opening hymn, and there was a lady behind me with a voice to die for. Her ability to sing far out done any dream I ever had for singing. I belted out my pitiful tone, just because I knew she would drown me out. The song ended. I felt great. I got to sing loud and proud, because I knew my singing was covered up by her sweet voice. We dismissed in prayer and headed for our classes. After class we returned to the sanctuary for a lecture. A lady who had stood in front of me during the opening hymn spotted me, and smiled. She said 'You sang beautiful while ago'. I smiled and nodded. What do I say? Do I let her think it is me? Do I set her straight? I spoke up with a smile (almost a laugh), 'That wasn't me.' She quietly sat down in front of me, and we opened our hymns to sing another song. I am certain after that song she knew it wasn't me. The woman who was behind me earlier had sat somewhere else.

Listening to the Holy Spirit can sometimes be a challenge. Sometimes I listen to the Holy Spirit in the shower, when no one is around. Sometimes the Holy Spirit talks while I'm driving down the road but the music is so loud I can't hear him. Sometimes the Holy Spirit speaks to me at church, but I'm afraid speak up more than a muffled 'amen', so the congregation won't wonder what's wrong with me. The gift of the Holy Spirit is freely given to all who acknowledge and accept, even me. Occasionally I get the privilege of standing beside, or in front of, someone who always seems filled with the Spirit. Someone whose face always seems to glow because they have been in the presence of God. Sometimes, I secretly hope the people around me think I'm filled with the Spirit too. It's contagious. The Spirit makes others want to be filled with the Spirit. Well.........my wish can come true. The Holy Spirit's ability to direct, and help me, far out does any dream I've ever had. I can belt out my pitiful attempts at life and know the Holy Spirit can multiply my efforts, if I back up and give Him space. Our life can be filled with great joy and enthusiasm, by allowing the Holy Spirit's indwelling power to lead. We cross paths with different people every day. Perhaps someone will look at us and say, 'you helped me when I needed it', or 'you prayed for me', or 'you encouraged me when I was sad', or 'you did a great job'. And when someone gives us a compliment, do we just smile and nod. What do we say? Do we let them think it's us? Do we set them straight? I sat by a lady at supper a few nights ago. I was giving her compliments for a job well done on something she is in charge of. She took her index finger and pointed up. She said 'It wasn't me, It was all Him'. She knew to give credit where credit was due. She knew it was God working thru her. Do we point up, speak up, and say 'That wasn't me, it was all God'. And when life proceeds on to another chapter, will the people you've crossed paths understand it wasn't you? Will they understand it was the Holy Spirit in you, directing you, and know it was all God.

A quilt from a quilt show in Little Rock, AR

Kindred Spirits and Bosom Friends

When my daughter was younger, there was a movie she used to watch called 'Anne of Green Gables'. I think I may have enjoyed the movie more than my daughter. Anne was a red head tomboy orphan who was always up to something. The movie follows Anne thru her life as she grows up, and allows the viewer a chance to see quiet a range of shenanigans that seem to follow the girl everywhere she goes. During the course of the movie, the little tomboy blossoms into a well educated beautiful woman. It was in this movie that I first heard the phrase 'Kindred Spirits' and 'Bosom Friend'. Anne used them in the following way:

"Kindred Spirits are not so scarce as I used to think. It's splendid to find out there are so many of them in the world."
-L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables
Anne made this comment about a lady who previously had gotten crossways with Anne, but in the end Anne realized there really were some similarities they had in common. 

"A bosom friend--an intimate friend, you know--a really kindred spirit to whom I can confide my inmost soul. I've dreamed of meeting her all my life. I never really supposed I would, but so many of my loveliest dreams have come true all at once that perhaps this one will, too. Do you think it's possible?
Anne said this to Marilla shortly after she arrived at Avonlea.


The honesty of Anne's words cut straight to the heart. Don't we as women all wish for a true 'kindred spirit', or a true 'bosom friend'? 

Growing up shy, bashful, and backwards created huge obstacles in finding a kindred spirit, or a bosom friend. I had a tendency to confide in my horses, talk to my horses, enjoy my horses, and dream about my horses. Taking time to establish a strong relationship was too much stress for someone so shy. It was just easier to build a relationship with a horse. Funny I know, but it worked for me. I could stay in my comfort zone of not communicating, not exchanging thoughts and feelings, not worrying about if or when I'd last talked to someone, and enjoy the solitude with a large warm blooded animal. The effort it would take to establish a kindred spirit or bosom friend was too great for this shy girl.

I think the years spent with my grandma in her later years, and becoming a grandma myself, required me to go at a slower pace than usual. The slower pace gave me time to become more reflective, and think more about what was actually happening around me. In both of these relationships I started to realize it was the small things that meant the most. It was the flowers picked, the hay bales jumped, the dollar store visited frequently, the drive to a cousin's house, the books we read, the Thomas trains pushed, the pinto beans and cornbread we ate, the apples we picked from the back yard, and the peaches we picked at the orchard, these were the things I treasured the most. I was taught in both these relationships we have but one turn in life. I think it was the realization of the one turn in life that opened me up enough to give space to the possibility of a kindred spirit or bosom friend.

Finding someone you can consider a 'kindred spirit' or a 'bosom friend' is a true rarity. There are a couple women I consider have earned a ranking in my book as a both a 'kindred spirit' and a 'bosom friend', they are my grandma (Modenia) and my sister (Cindy). With both these women I have felt, at times, they knew me better than I knew myself (and that is scary). However, they were  neither judgmental or critical. They always listened with an attentive ear and loving heart. Offering advice only when asked. Giving a nod of the head in agreement with me, or giving me a long pause in the conversation if they disagreed. I got the point, and they never had to say a thing.

There have also been a few women I consider to be a very strong 'kindred spirit'. Each relationship occurred at a time, and in a place I totally was not expecting. They blossomed on their own with very little nurturing. They just showed up out of the blue. I think God put them in my path at a specific time in my life because it was just what I needed to get me thru. He knew what I was going to need before I did. He went ahead of me preparing the way by placing these women in life. I'll not mention their names, but I have thanked God for giving them to me just when I needed them. Each 'kindred spirit' has it's own unique set of blueprints, which create our unique relationship. There are still struggles within myself to open up, but the rewards received from each of these relationships have been worth the risk.

As women, perhaps we can look for that special lady who needs encouraging, lifting up, prayed for, talked to, or just called. We can make a difference. I've had women make a difference in me, and I'm not sure they even know. If the opportunity presents itself I will tell them what they have meant to me. It was the small things they did, the gesture of kindness, a prayer said for me, the acknowledgment that I was in the room, a smile given when I was feeling down, or maybe by an email or text just to say hi.

Many kindred spirits are in this world. Take the first step, open the door to the possibility of creating a kindred spirit. Who knows, in the end you may find yourself a new bosom friend. Wouldn't that be the biggest treat of all?

Excess baggage

In fifty years of life, and thirty one and a half years of marriage, a lot of 'stuff' can accumulate. This 'stuff' creates memories and piles up all over the house. Our house is no different than any other, except Tim and I tend to be pack rats. I have a tendency to hang onto 'stuff'. Some good, and some bad.

Some favorite 'stuff' I have held onto is:
- My dad's wallet that was in his pocket on the day he died. I have kept it just as it was when it was given to me. Inside can still be found pictures of my mom, my brother, my sister, and myself in the accordion plastic file. Other items still in the wallet are: a blank check from dad and mom's checking account with First National Bank, his last AQHA membership card for the year 1980, a business card from Bonds Brangus Farms listing dad as manager, a notarized card dated May 1, 1977 where David Pryor approved his appointment as a law enforcement officer, his drivers license with an expiration date June 30, 1982, an ID card from the Faulkner County Sheriff's Dept. signed by Charles Castleberry, a Faulkner County Law Enforcement officer membership card, and other various cards and documents.
- Hundreds and hundreds of photos. Everyone of them is a treasure, but some how most of them are stored in boxes. Tim has tried to give me the task of putting them on dvd, but there are way too many for me to want to tackle that task. I told him the kids can have that task after I am gone.
- A crown from a children's Christmas play. I asked Tim to dress up as the The Great Late Potentate for a children's Christmas musical, and he agreed. He dressed up in a costume that looked like a purple gown, and there was a crown that perfectly matched his gown. He actually pulled off singing and dancing in a baptist church without getting kicked out. The hat holds a special place in my heart because of his gesture of unconditional kindness and willing spirit.
- Some of my children's teeth they lost when they were young children. (By the way they came in handy when our daughter misplaced her tooth she had just pulled. She was distraught. Remembering the canister holding her previously lost teeth, it was only a few steps away. I opened the canister, and took out a tooth. Going back to where she was still searching for the misplaced tooth, I spoke up "I found it". The tooth fairy never knew the difference.)
- My mom's wedding gown (Don't tell my sister), and a picture of her wearing it with dad at her side. They made a beautiful couple.
- Mom's engagement ring from dad. She received it when he proposed by the old one lane bridge south of Wooster.
- A portrait of Jesus that was hanging over my grandmothers bed on the day she died.
- A couple what-nots from my sister telling me how 'good' of a sister I am. (lol)
- Videos of both sets of my grandparents 50th wedding anniversary.
- A hunk of horse tail cut from my favorite horse. Boss was the best horse for 32 years, until he died. He helped raise my kids.
- A saddle blanket given to me by my dad. It was one of the last things I remember him giving me. Even though it has red fringe on it, I have worn it proudly on different occasions at horse shows.
- A four generation portrait with my grandma, my mom, my daughter, and myself. I'll be forever proud we took the time to have it made.
- A Good News Bible given to me by JoEd Woodward, my Sunday School teacher. The bible reads like a story book. As a kid it was fun to read, and kept me in the Word. There are so many notes in the bible, I like to look at it and see what inspired me at the time.
- For 32 years I carried a card in my wallet. It was the size of a credit card. On the face of the card was a picture of a blue bull. The bulls heart was red and looked like it was about to pound out of his chest. The card read 'My heart enlarges at the sight of you'. It was a card Tim gave me when we were dating. I thought it was the cutest thing. I carried it for 32 years until it got so brittle it was falling apart.
- A pair of my daughter's first black patent shoes she wore to Sunday school as a tiny infant.
- My oldest son's first bible given to him by the pastor that married Tim and I.
- A couple of my youngest son's black vest he wore as a young child. 

Some unfavorite 'stuff' I have held onto is:
- Clothes I have out grown, but keep expecting some day I might wear them again
- Books I started reading, but never finished
- Negativity
- Grudges I should have let go of a long time ago
- Clutter around my house, and in my closets, that sometimes is overwhelming and gets discouraging
- Books and magazines that need to find a new home
- Worn out blankets that obviously have no value and never will
- Broken or worn out pots and pans that have no use
- Guilt of not calling people I care about just to say 'hi' and check on them
- Sorrow of missing a wedding, funeral, memorial service, birthday party, etc.
- An unappreciative heart for a kindness done to me
- Apologies not given
- A bad temper
- Stubbornness

Both the good and bad define who I am, and who we are. We are to live a victorious life for Christ, not one of guilt and condemnation. While we sometimes feel guilty and condemned for the things we do, and have done, with God's forgiving grace we can live a life glorifying to God. If we are designed and made by the Great Creator, don't you think he wants his creation to celebrate life? A few weeks ago I came across a verse that spoke volumes to me. 'He was pierced for our transgressions. He was crushed for our iniquities. The punishment that brought us peace was on him, and by his wounds we are healed.' Isaiah 53:5. Something REALLY amazing to me, is the verse was written thousands of years ago and in 2015 it was just what I needed.

The Great Late Potentate's Hat 

 My daughter's shoes from infancy

My oldest son's first bible

 My youngest son's vest from childhood

 My dad's wallet

 My mom's engagement ring

 My children's baby teeth

 A four generation photo with my grandma, mom, and daughter

Bible from JoEd Woodward

The Visitor

Tim has been traveling to Africa for the past 5 years on mission trips. About 10 years ago the Lord laid it on Tim's heart to learn about drilling water wells. As a result of Tim's knowledge the Lord called Tim to Africa, by means of Bro. Bobby Bowman, to drill much needed water wells. God can take little and make it into much, if someone has a willing heart to serve. This was the case with Tim. His actual knowledge of drilling water wells was very little, and his knowledge of drilling with the type of rig required for African soil was zero. The lack of knowledge did not stop the work God had planned for Africa. With willing hearts, many teams have trekked to Africa to provide a necessity we take for granted. During the years spent in Africa, Tim created many friendships and working partners.

In September I had a meeting with an African Tim had met, and formed a friendship with. Over the past few years a storm was tearing apart our marriage. During the course of the storm if anyone wanted to talk to me, argue with me, discuss with me, or say whatever they needed to say about our marriage, I would give them time and space. A couple days before my 50th birthday, I received a text from this African. (I will refer to them as 'the visitor' because they informed me it was all God's doing, and to leave them out of it. With that being said, I will leave their name out of this and just call them 'the visitor'.) Tim knew the visitor was in the country, but had no idea they wanted to meet with me. I felt their intention was to talk about mine and Tim's relationship. I didn't answer right away because I was busy. I intended on answering later, but forgot. The next day I received a phone call from the visitor. They requested we meet, and said they had a word from God. I agreed to meet, and we met at Cracker Barrel the next day. When we met, the visitor took the opportunity to pray right away. We began talking, and shortly after was interrupted by our waitress wanting to take our order. Once the order was taken, the talking resumed. I don't remember all that was said. However, there were two things I do remember about the conversation: 1. The visitor was persistent in telling me the battle was not between Tim and I, but was a battle between God and satan. 2. The visitor was persistent in me agreeing to let Tim move back into our house.  #2 was so difficult for me to agree to at first I said 'no'. The visitor didn't budge. The battle they were fighting was for God, and they wouldn't give up. The visitor even made the offer to get in the floor and beg, if needed. I begrudgingly agreed to his request. Our food had arrived earlier, and had grown cold. We ate and visited more. After eating he prayed again, and gave all the praise and glory to God. We left Cracker Barrel with the understanding that I would call Tim first chance I had and tell him the good news. I was hesitant, but the visitor was very excited. I had to drive the visitor across town. As we were driving, my cell phone started ringing. Who do you think would call? It was Tim. I showed it to the visitor, but didn't expect what he said. "Answer it, and tell him the good news." I couldn't believe what he was saying. Was he expecting me to tell Tim to move back into the house, while he listened? Yes. I answered the phone, hesitantly. The words felt like glue in my throat. The visitor evidently could see beyond our current circumstances, and was obedient to the task God had given. I was still stuck in the past with all the hurt feelings, and disappointments. I couldn't see past all that 'stuff', and my selfishness. With the words flowing out of my mouth, the receiver of my conversation had grown quiet. In 30+ years of marriage, I had never known my husband to be at a loss of words. Quiet frankly, Tim was speechless. If our relationship had been in a better place, I would have fallen out of the truck laughing so hard at his speechlessness.  As we talked I could hear the visitor behind me saying 'praise God', and 'yes Lord'.  His triumphant, joyful feelings could be felt in the words he was saying. Tim and I spoke for only a couple minutes, and made arrangements to meet where he was working.

I stopped to drop off the visitor at a church, where he was meeting someone. The visitor asked me to come in, and tell the good news to a mutual friend. We went inside, met the friend, told the good news, went to the sanctuary, knelt down at the podium, the three of us held hands, and prayed. It was a moment worthy of being included in my baby book. Wiping away tears, I left to go find Tim.

Our initial greeting was a feeling of hesitancy, but also a feeling of relief. The storm we'd been going thru had us both battered and damaged, but the hope before us lifted our spirits enough we managed to share some hugs and kisses. We are slowly putting our relationship back together. We still struggle, almost daily. It is a gradual process, but with God's help we will be victorious.

The visitor continues to encourage me during the restoration. Here are some text sent to me by the visitor in the days following our meeting. I have been blessed and encouraged by them.

Note to self: You have to fight for what is yours.

Note to self: Fight on my knees, and don't give up.

Note to self: Pray more than I talk with Tim, and let prayers become my talk.

If only every marriage could have such a visitor at a time of crisis, our world would be a better place. God knew my hard heart needed the persistency of this visitor. Listen, Listen, Listen.....You have to fight for what is yours. Fight on your knees, and don't give up. Pray more than you talk, and let prayers become your talk.

Neither of us are perfect people, but we are purchased people (paid for in full at Calvary).

The Tornado Dissipated

There was a lady about 2 years ago who had a dream. She’d never given much thought to dreams, mostly because she never remembered what they were after she woke up. However, this dream was different. It was specific, and she couldn't get it out of her head once she woke up. It was a dream about a tornado, and it was tearing up everything she loved in it's path. A short time before the dream, unaddressed marital issues, that went back 15 years, were coming to a head. Arguments became more intense, and there never seemed to be any resolve. Poor communication skills of 30 years had finally erupted into a massive storm. When she had the dream, she felt it was pointing directly at what was happening in their marriage. The marriage was gaining momentum, but in a negative way. Their marriage was picking up debris of hurt feelings, unresolved arguments, past deeds never resolved, hot tempers, frustrations, hurtful words, heated disagreements and a lot of finger pointing. She was ready to leave the storm before it got any worse. Over the course of 2 years of struggles, it did get worse. The storm kept hammering at their 30 year marriage. During the midst of the storm they went to counselors, a marriage retreat, and tried living separate. Nothing seemed to help. She could remember the day her heart shut down. It was like a storm cellar. The storm wasn't going to get to her, because her heart had shut itself up. It was the most empty feeling, but she felt safe with her heart shut away from the storm. Her husband's heart, on the other hand, had opened up. New doors were opening. Things were being revealed to him from God, but her cold closed heart wouldn't give his attempts a chance to show how he wanted to do their relationship better. A cold closed heart is not an easy thing to get opened. God tried in different ways to tell her to give it a chance, but she was determined, and wasn't budging. She felt the hurt was too much, and didn't want to go back. 

It was a God thing that opened her heart. We'll discuss the opening of the heart at a different time, but for now just know it was a God thing. She had a visitor. It was the beginning of the opening of her heart. It was the visitor that convinced her to give him a chance, and let him move back into the house to work on their marriage. About 2 months ago when he moved back in, she had a dream. It was another dream about a tornado. This dream was different than the first dream she had. In this last dream, the tornado dissipated before it did any damage. She’d never given much thought to dreams, mostly because she never remembered what they were after she woke up. However, this dream was different. It was specific, and she couldn't get it out of her head when she woke up. It was a dream about a tornado, and it had left everything she loved alone. She knew God had put their marriage back on track. Debris from the storm is still flying around, but the tornado is gone.

Why do we let our relationships become a place where satan can wreak havoc in our lives? Why do we turn a blind eye to the storms brewing in our lives? Why does it seem our efforts are useless sometimes? Why can't we listen to the prompting of the Holy Spirit, give God a chance, and see what He can do?

The Eagle

Today I went to feed. As I was coming back from feeding the bull, there was a large bird sitting on an old dead tree in the pasture. It immediately got my undivided attention because of it's white head. I couldn't believe it, but there was a bald eagle sitting in a tree on our farm. I'd never been close to a bald eagle in the wild. I drove as fast as I could to the house to get my camera. I started taking pictures from a distance, because I was afraid it would get scared and fly off. I was driving our Kubota, and was able to get close enough to get some great shots of this magnificent creature. Our great pyrenees frightened him once, and he flew to another tree close by.  Cautiously, I drove as close as I could to get additional pictures. Again, our great pyrenees got too close to the tree and it flew off. This time I could not follow it. Bald eagles are not normally seen around this part of the state. I feel blessed to have gotten to the opportunity to see this bird so close.

"But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint."  Isaiah 40:31

You can't see it in the picture, but the eagle is perched close to the top of the dead tree.