August 3 was my Mother's Birthday.  Had she lived, she would have been 88 years old. I spend a few minutes remembering and missing her - wishing that we had built our summer retreat before she died, so that she could have enjoyed the cool mountain breezes of this valley.  She always said that she didn't like the desert's heat, but it was more important for her to be near her family than to live in the ideal climate.  That is the only regret I have as I look back at our relationship - that we couldn't afford our retreat in time for her to enjoy it.  How she would have loved it!

My mother was also an only child - a regrettable position to be in!  She devoted many of her years "taking care" of her parents until their deaths.  She was a responsible daughter who sacrificed much to please her parents.

Mother was a nurse - trust me, the very best nurse ever.  In my book, Florence Nightengale didn't have her warmth and tenderness - nor her velvet hands.  Whenever I was sick, Mom was there, regardless of the inconvenience to herself.  She was a fine cook, and today I cherish the memory of many of the goodies she baked - and I still bake them myself.  She was the greatest Grandma in the world!  Most of the time Ron and I and our girls lived about a two hour drive from my parents.  We frequented their home, and the girls have very precious memories of sleeping in the special beds created on the living room floor so they could be near Gram and Gramp, of being quietly awakened on Sunday mornings to ride in Grandpa's pick-up truck for scrambled eggs, toast and OJ at the Corner Store.

After my father's death, mother was desperately lonely.  She cared for her mother and we saw them regularly, but after a couple of years, we had to move to the southwest. Mother and Grandma decided to come too.  We built them a sweet little adobe home, and they came, bag and baggage.  But their stay was short-lived.  Grandma was afraid of the mountains - believe it or not.  And I think that she was lonely for what was familiar to her, and believe me, the southwest is quite different from New England. And so, a dutiful daughter packed her up and took her back to New England, bag and baggage!  We were devastated, but Mother knew that we had each other, and she felt responsible for Grandma.

Seven years after my father's death, my mother met Howard, and after a year or so, they married.  They enjoyed seven wonderful years together, some in Florida near the water.  They even bought a pontoon boat and took "Captain" lessons together.  Mother had become adventurous! Howard passed away in North Dakota on a visit to our home in Bismarck, where we pastored.

When time came for us to move to Phoenix, Mother moved too -against her wishes but being near her girl was more important.  She lived ten years in a section of the country she didn't like, but it gave her time with her family - and for her that was most important.

So today, I sit at our retreat.  I enjoy the cool breeze and the fragrance of the pines, and I wish she was on the porch with us!  Ron says he misses her too and wishes we could be drinking iced tea together on the deck -"wouldn't she love it?" he says.

She's far away from me today, in a pink-lined casket wearing her pink suit and covered with the quilt she'd requested I make.  She's in Connecticut beside my father and Howard, awaiting resurrection morning.  But to tell the truth, she's still close, because I am able to carry her and her love in my heart and cherish her memory forever.  She was not perfect, no one is, but she came very close - well let's put it this way, she was just the Mother I needed and I surely do miss her!

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Ron and I have a wonderful pet - her name is Maddie and she is a silver miniature schnauzer with a personality that won't quit!  It isn't always easy when we travel, but she has a babysitter in Phoenix who really wants to own her (forget it, Louise) and here at our New Mexico retreat, we have a veterinarian who adores her too, so she stays with Dr. Becky when we have to leave for a few days.

We got to know Dr. Becky quite well when Maddie ate some of that tainted dog food back a year and a half ago, and nearly hemorrhaged to death. We didn't know what the problem was, but then a second bout of bleeding alerted us that it might be the dog food - YUP, it was!  The numbers on the bag corresponded with numbers Dr. Becky had on a list of tainted food.

AND THEN, about 10 days ago, she started to bleed again - this time projectile diarrhea!  Were we scared?  You bet!  So we raced to Dr. Becky.  And no, it's not the dog food. As it seems, this time she managed to find a Tylenol that we had inadvertently dropped on the floor.  Apparently the colors fascinated her, and down the hatch it went.  NOT GOOD!!!

We soon discovered that Tylenol is big time poison to a dog - especially a small dog who has already bled out twice before!  Maddie has been with Dr. Becky for ten days so far, and this has been the worst experience for her yet.  According to our wonderful vet, Tylenol attacks their stomach and intestinal lining and makes doggies bleed.  Then it attacks the liver and causes anemia and then produces a condition where the dog's blood starts to clot, which of course, can cause strokes, heart attacks, pulmonary embolism's, seizures and death!

Our doctor has been checking her blood, and as a result Maddie has had two blood transfusions, is being tube fed because she refuses to eat, is on IV's, several meds and is still very weak.  I am sure she is lonely for us, especially because she is so sick, but Dr. Becky tells us that it's best we not visit her.  She says that often dogs who are quite sick and wish to be with family, will get very depressed and die after a visit, because they thought that their family was going to take them home, and didn't.  We are terribly lonely for her, and long to just hold and comfort her, but we can't.  Today is Monday, and on Wednesday we head out for a week of seminars.  Maddie will have to stay with Dr. Becky. 

We hate to think what the bill will be - albeit, Dr. Becky is quite reasonable compared to the Phoenix veterinarians. But what kind of a price tag can you put on a pet who has wormed her way deep into your heart?  Can you say, "well if it costs this much or that much, just put her to sleep?"  Hardly!  One wouldn't do that for a mother or a husband or a child.  And so, somehow the bill will get paid and precious Maddie will be able to come home to her own little bed and her family who loves her.  People all over the country are praying for her full recovery.  Will you pray too?

Amazing how sometimes it takes a tragic situation for us to recognize how much we love and care for someone.  Maddie has always been very special - she is a unique dog!  Just ask those in her circle of friends, and they will tell you truly!  But this time, when she finally comes home, you can forget a blog or an article for a couple of days, ‘cuz dear Maddie will be in my arms! To comment on this blog, click here.

We've been to town several times since the flood.  Mostly at first, we wanted to see how devastated our area really was, and we saw, to be sure!  Perhaps many of you have seen the sights on TV or perhaps there's been a picture in your newspaper.  It's difficult to imagine that a sweet little babbling brook can become a raging torrent, but it certainly did.

Apparently the worst of things began about 3 AM on Sunday, July 27th.  Bonita Lake, not in Ruidoso but just beyond our little town, Alto, poured over its banks.  Raging water rushed down the creek forming a raging river, cutting swaths of embankment, logs, household items from houses and cabins along the creek with it. One video showed an entire log cabin racing down the river, totally broken up by the trees and logs in its path.

We are told that by 3:45 AM, our Ruidoso police were knocking on doors and broadcasting warnings to residents of the Upper Canyon in Ruidoso.  There, hundreds of homes and cabins, some of which have been there many years, would be in the path of the racing waters.  Some were able to hear the warnings and escape, and others were trapped in their flooding and mud-infiltrated homes.  By the time the waters had passed through Ruidoso, taking out thirteen bridges, a six foot wall of water slammed into a riverside RV camp. Sweeping trailers and RV's further down the ever-increasing swift-running river toward the Hondo Valley.

Until Thursday evening, Black Hawk helicopters air lifted seven hundred stranded people from homes and rooftops in the Upper Canyon. Churches opened their doors and hearts to those who became instantly homeless.  Our little church has been manned by members in two-hour shifts for the peoples of Ruidoso Downs - those needing first-aid supplies, blankets or food. 

One week following the flood, we went to town again and toured the devastated areas.  The river is now back to its original state - a beautiful babbling brook, but the results of the river's anger are evident everywhere!  Crews on bulldozers, front-end loaders, road graders and many dump trucks have worked sun-up to sun-down for a week.  Some temporary bridges have been erected so that residents could return to their homes to shovel out the mud and ascertain the extent of the damage to their belongings.  But still, major river crossings are simply cavernous holes in the road that will take months to repair and rebuild.  The town is suffering and will be for a while, but its people are resilient, and it will resurrect and even shine brighter than in times past.

One only has to listen to the evening news to know that disasters are everywhere.  It is, of course, when they come very close to home, that we sense the impact that a disaster can create.  Are we prepared?  If you ever watch Glenn Beck on Fox Channel, you know that he has been warning of a housing crisis and financial devastation for the U.S. for some time.  Has the country taken heed?  Probably not the way it should.

Human beings are strange.  We are driven toward pleasure - not toward gloom and doom, so we strive to enjoy the moment and forget the predictions of what can and will happen in the days ahead.  Even when police knocked at their doors at 4 AM, many of Ruidoso's Upper Canyon residents chose a few more minutes of shut-eye rather than heed the warning and get out of the canyon.  One young fellow thought that he was stronger than the waters, and the chance he took to wade in the water, ended his life.  Playing with danger is what all too many of us do.

The Bible gives us warnings too.  Are we aware of them?  Do we care, and will we heed them before disaster strikes.  Safety for this life and for the next is found in an intimate relationship with God.  When we trust Him, we WILL heed His warnings, and act accordingly.

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Ron went to town this morning, but not by the usual route, to be sure!  I was on the phone with my friend in Phoenix, when another call came in, and it was from Ron.  I hung up with Donna to answer his call, and told her I'd call right back.

"Turn on the TV - CNN, Honey.  They are broadcasting about floods in Ruidoso - damage in town and out by the race track!  I haven't gotten close enough to town to see the damage, so I'll call you back later."

I turned on the TV to CNN, and there it was!  They were talking about Ruidoso all right, and what a shock!  We are out her in Alto in our beautiful valley, and knew it rained, but had no idea that in Ruidoso there could be a problem!  Even now as I write, army helicopters are buzzing over us, viewing the damage, but from my vantage point here, there is no damage!

Ron called back to say that every bridge in town is washed out - "just big holes," he said.  The Bonita River and Rio Ruidoso overflowed their banks by huge amounts, raced down the mountainsides and through the canyons, sweeping with the water three young men.  One we know has died, and the other two are missing. 

We are told that the famous Ruidoso Downs Quarter Horse Racetrack is a mess!  CNN showed pictures sent in by locals, both stills and videos, of the flood waters that gushed into homes, destroying or severely damaging them.  I am still at home in the valley, and am shocked to hear what has happened to our neighbors!

It took Ron a VERY long time to get into town and to the bank, but what for?  Their computers are all down, the lines in the drive-up are 8-10 cars deep, and very few transactions can be done!  Cash?  What's that?.  Each person was allowed only a limited amount.

Our children are on vacation in San Diego, and for that I am grateful.  You see, our daughter is a nurse at the local hospital.  She works ICU and Emergency Room.  Can you imagine?  Instead of twelve hour shifts, she'd be working round the clock!  Our son-in-law is a police sergeant. He would be in the same boat (no pun intended) working round the clock.  Our granddaughters would be with us (that'd be fine) but we'd all be very concerned about their parents, our kids.

We are living in grand and awful times!  Earthquakes, floods, typhoons in Taiwan and Japan, hurricanes, massacres in churches, gasoline prices skyrocketing, parents murdering their children and then themselves, children kidnapped, raped and murdered, etc., etc.  All this does, especially when a disaster comes close to home, is to remind me, like a 2 X 4 alongside my head, that I need to be ready twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week for whatever might occur.  I need to be ready to have my life snuffed out like those three young men who are missing just a few miles from here.

"Lord, you are my hiding place, you are my refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble, you are all I need, closer than a brother, dearer that the "love of my life", my salvation and my hope for tomorrow."

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Well, I am still suffering with a nasty back, but not to worry. Today I have an appointment with a Massage Therapist recommended by the Chiropractor.  It's not that I am thrilled about spending the money, but it is difficult to function when you ache so much!  The Therapist said when we made the appointment that I'd be like a limp noodle when she's done with me, so we'll see how well a limp noodle can write!
 
You know, I seldom think about my age when I am feeling chipper.  But when I am achy, it's easy to feel like there's one foot in the grave and the other on a banana peel. Yesterday however, my age showed up at the door in the arms of our daughter - her grandmother.  Yes, you're right, I am a Great Grandmother to a precious little sixteen month old girl - Sweet little Athena. 
 
We hadn't seen her in a year, so there's no way that she would know who were are. She did warm up to Ron fairly quickly - she made googly eyes at him and gave him a smile or two. As I watched her explore our living room and then run back to her grandma or to one of her aunties (our eight and thirteen year old granddaughters) I pictured my own sweet Grandma.  How well I remember being so proud to bring first Sara Louise and then Naomi Lynn, to see Grandma and Grandpa Scott, when they were babies. In my mind's eye I saw the picture of my Grandma that hangs proudly on our living room wall in Phoenix and I pictured her rocking my babies and singing to them.  I'll have to admit, that there was a tear or two picturing those scenes - they were so beautiful!  We took our babies the two hour drive to Grandparents and Great-Grandparents often.  There they got a lot of love, and still today our girls retain precious memories of the warmth and affection they received there.
 
So now I am my grandmother. WOW!  Am I anything like my parents and grandparents were?  Yes and No.  Unfortunately, my work takes me far from my family.  The growing up years of two twenty-plus year old grandsons came and went without the privilege of having time with them like my parents and grandparents did with our girls.  The boys aren't strangers to us, but somehow I feel that it wouldn't matter to them if we were around or not. Our granddaughters, on the other hand, are just down the street now - well in the summertime anyway.  We do have fun times together, but still, work divides the time that I could be enjoying them. Conversely, my parents were retired when our daughters were little, so more time could be devoted to their grandchildren - lucky them!
 
How is it that as time passes in this old world, men and women find it easy to put everything else, their wants, their goals, their work etc. before relationships? How sad!  I guess, I am just an old-fashioned gal, who's getting old and looking back wishing she done things better. Most people do that at this age.  We review life and ask ourselves if life meant anything, if it was successful and if we contributed anything positive to family and society.  Wonderful memories are mixed with some regrets.
 
Well, I can't stay here with this melancholy.  I will move on and make today the very best it can be.  I will enjoy Athena, Abby and Hannah, and I will say a few extra prayers for Joshua and Christopher, who are struggling as they enter adult life.  And in the middle of it all, I will work, because that's life.
 
P.S.  Ron says this is rather a morbid blog - but real.  What do you think? Contact us.

Responses from readers:
dpatch - Yes, it was a bit of a"downer" topic - "Musings of Yesteryears".. And yes, it is very real - it hits very close to home for many of us, especially when we get into our 60's and look back at what we accomplished or wished we had, especially in relationships.  I have my share of regrets.  And being 60 or so isn't all that old - we still have the opportunity to grow those relationships and connect, if the other person is willing. Of course, that is the key - it takes 2 to make it work.

I think back to when my boys were young and we'd visit Nana and great-Nana.  In those first 5 years, they were  rambunctious and curious and into exploring all the interesting objects Nana had about her house.  Of course they were also loud, as only little boys can be - full of life and energy.   Nana couldn't take much noise; she easily got migraine headaches,  nor did she make them feel comfortable, always worrying about something getting broken or moved out of place.

Great Nana, on the other hand snuggled them and always wanted to give them some treat to eat.  Her heart was more open to them.

As the years went by, and I'd make my weekly visits,  my boys would say they didn't want to go with me;. begging to please stay with Dad.  It was a "punishment" to have to visit Nana.  They had just been made to feel so unwelcome - rejected.  And after awhile,  I let them stay home with Dad more often than not.

I knew how I myself felt after visiting..I felt beat up and I had to "shake off " the negativity as I left her and began the hour drive back home - home to where I felt more accepted and at ease.

If I knew then, what I know now, I might have sat down with my mother and told her what was going on with the boys.  But in retrospect and being in recovery, and knowing what makes my mother tick, I would've just set myself up for more rejection.

Anyway this was 35 plus years ago,  and can't be changed, yet in my heart, it still hurts because not only was I wounded repeatedly, but so were my boys and I allowed it to happen.  OW! I didn't realize I still had this pain tucked down inside me; it all came out as I wrote.

I realize I need to forgive my mother and let it go.  She is 85 and not getting any younger and neither am I! And I need to apologize to my youngest son.  My oldest died just before his 21st birthday.

Another hole I have in my heart is the lack of grandchildren.  There is still hope though and It is all in God's hands ~ as is every part of my journey through life.  I am held in the loving arms of my Heavenly Father each step of the way.

Ever hear that expression, "What price, beauty?"  Well I've discovered that it doesn't pertain to just the routines and extras that a woman does in order to look attractive. What I am referring to here, is the price I am paying at this very moment!
 
As I write, I sit in the recliner with an ice pack at my lower back.  If I can get this writing done within twenty minutes, I should be sufficiently frozen to then apply the heating pad for thirty minutes.  These instructions were given to me by my summertime Chiropractor this very morning, when I hobbled into his office in total agony.
 
WOW!" he exclaimed.  Your back surely is tight!  Well he opted for some spinal traction on his electric table (kind of a stretching mechanism) before he attempted an adjustment.  That felt good and bad!  I was a tad apprehensive about the adjustment, as in times past it has been difficult to adjust my lower back, but bless his doctor heart, clunk - in it went!
 
I've got my instructions - take it easy today!  What's that?  Not my style, not my cuppa' tea, but I'm doin' it anyway.  Actually, can't do otherwise!  All I could do today, for the beauty that caused this glitch, is to water it - give it a drink.  You see, the beauty for which I am paying the price, is the blooming that's happening in my little rock garden, and the pepper and tomato plants and pampas grass that I have growing in pots on the deck.  It's not the plants that did this to me, but the forty pound bags of potting soil that I emptied into big planters, for planting the vegetable plants.
 
One of these days, I may learn to "act my age."  Frequently in my growing-up years, my father would yell those three words at me, and it's at times like these, that I hear his raspy voice hollering in my head, but now reminding me that I just ain't as young as I used to be!
 
So, today and probably tomorrow too, I will just have to be about reading, writing and endeavoring to put my "silver hair wisdom" - as the Bible says, down on paper instead of trying to created external (outside the house) beauty.

I've decided that brown is not the appropriate color for spring and summer!  Trees, grass, and surrounding hills are supposed to be a verdant green against the high blue sky.  But this summer, so far, we are dry and brown.  YUCK!

Here in the New Mexico mountains, we are thirsty - big time!  Statistics tell us that come July, we will have a daily shower about 1:30 pm, and I've decided that it's hard to wait for the July rains.  After all, when you are thirsty, don't you get a drink?  I prefer the summer tastes of ice tea, iced water and an occasional glass of frosty juice, but I know that these hills would take water at any temperature!

When we arrived here for a summer of writing, we were shocked to see that the three Junipers we had planted last summer were mere sticks!  They had been eaten by desperate deer, longing for something green and wet!  Even the winter snow was scarce this year. We were relieved that the deer hadn't found their moisture by munching on our two blue spruce trees, but were warned that desperate deer will even attack blue spruce if needed.

And so, we pulled out the hoses and the oscillating sprayers to endeavor a revival to our grass, but no signs of life.  Last year, our landscaping was the envy of this little sub-division, but this year, NOT!  And so we are going to plant some Swedish White Clover, because it's reported to survive dry ground, heat and snow, sleet and slush. 

Yesterday and today we were teased.  Rain clouds began heading our direction about eleven o'clock in the morning.  They danced all around us, hiding and then exposing the sun.  Twice we saw rain streaks heading toward the ground - probably about twenty miles from us, but alas, no rain landed in our neighborhood.

Reminds me of how we as humans sometimes think about the fortunes of others that dance all around us but never land on us.  Fortunately we have the promise of the rain of the Holy Spirit that is falling upon us at all times, comforting and instructing us to claim God's promises as our own. I remember one Pastor who encouraged his people to actually put their finger on a Bible promise that spoke to their need, and claim the answer to that promise as their own.  "Ask, believe and claim the promise," he instructed.  It was wise counsel, and adherence to it twice gave us miraculous answers to our request - the conception of both our daughters.

You'll excuse me now.  I'm going to look for a promise that addresses water - rain, and I'll claim it for our lawn and our tiny garden. If God can answer with two daughters, surely He can answer with rain!

One thing among many, that I am not, is a great gardener.  Oh, I have great enthusiasm about planting and seeing things grow, but the process of working with the soil is not an easy one for me!  An artificial knee does not lend itself well to kneeling, and with the other knee in need of replacement, kneeling is impossible.  I've tried a little white plastic stool, but that's hard to get down to and up from!

So I bend in half, and that takes its toll on my back, but I persevere anyway!  Why?  Am I crazy?

Truth be told, I want to see the beauty of God's nature blooming in our yard!  We have a waterfall that is not a place where water usually runs - only when it rains.  It would be beautiful to see the water cascade down the rocks for about 40 feet, but alas, we're having a dry spell.  So . . . I have chosen to plant a small "rock" garden at the top of our "waterfall" where it can be seen by all who come up our driveway.

I spent the early morning yesterday preparing the area, and then with our daughter and son-in-law, drove into town to the nursery.  I spotted some ice plants that they had growing there, and decided that they would look glorious beside the large boulders at the edge of the waterfall. So they came home with us.

Now our summer home is in the mountains, and rocks are now our middle name, matching so well with our sir name -Rockey.  I dug and dug, and yes. There was soil, but in that area we seem to major in little rocks - pebbles.  Perhaps it was the result of the big machinery work done by our expert friend, but whatever the reason, planting the new plants wasn't easy.

What an excellent object lesson.  We as individuals want to make something of our lives, and so we begin tilling the soil to remove those things that would prevent beauty from showing through.  But it seems that there are so many obstacles in our way.  The ground (our heads and hearts) are hard, the spading and dirt preparation is tedious because there are so many annoying pebbles - thoughts, feelings and behaviors - old ways and habits, that need to be removed. 

We want to bloom in God's garden, we want to let His beauty shine through us, but preparing the way can be accomplished only with divine intervention and personal commitment.  It is He who gives us the determination and the strength to persevere, and sometimes in the process we even get burned.  I did yesterday.  Today my shoulders and arms are hot from 3 hours in the blazing sun.  

But when I look out our back door, and I see the little red, daisy - like flowers on the ice plants, and the blue-green of the other spreading plants in the area, I am thrilled! It was worth the effort.  Am I finished yet?  Not at all!  There's still some sifting out of rocks to do and there's room for more planting but enough annoying junk has been removed to allow the new plants to grow.

Recovery is like my garden.  Rocks of character defect still remain, but there's hope. There are glimpses of brightness now where only rocks were before; watered regularly and fed with nutrients to enhance the beauty, my garden and my recovery will thrive.  Think about doing the same!

Tomorrow is my brother's birthday.  It's not an event that we celebrate, because my brother only survived for 10 days, due to a mistake - an accident in the nursery. I was two and a half when he was born, and while I don't remember him, I do remember climbing the fire escape at the hospital, wearing a little yellow smocked dress, to bring a flower to my mother.  I'll tell you that it was back in the days when children were not allowed inside hospitals, but apparently my grandma felt it was important for mother and I to see each other, even for only a couple of minutes.  So we climbed the fire escape that came from her room.

My memory goes blank after that - probably because there was a lot of pain in the family.  My father was in the thick of the fighting in Germany, at the height of World War II, so he was not around to be of help and comfort to my mother or the rest of the family.  My mother was quite ill, and I guess I must have been totally confused.  I knew that Mother went to the hospital to bring home a baby.  We had named him after my Dad and his Dad, and his middle name was for the Grandpa with whom we lived - James Robert. I called him Jimmy Boy and could hardly wait ‘til he came home.

I don't remember this, but I do know that Mom came home without Jimmy Boy.  He came two days later, they told me, in a little white box.  My Mother wanted to see him in his final resting spot, and as she was too sick to go to the funeral parlor, the undertaker brought Jimmy to her.  They told me that I saw him, and kissed his tiny hand, but I don't remember.

Why is it then, that as I type this, sitting in the big green recliner, my eyes are filled with tears and I feel an intensive sense of sadness? I have always felt, come to think of it, that something was missing in my life.  Dad was missing for the first four years due to the war, but he did come home, and I got to know him.  But the missing sibling, the companion I always longed for, never did come home; never was a part of my childhood experience.  How is it that a person can actually miss what or who they never really knew?  I have absolutely no memory of him - no pictures - only his little blue beaded bracelet in a tiny box in my cedar chest.  That's all that remains of Jimmy Boy.

It's so vital to understand that while the mind can't always recall faces or memory of an individual or situations, still the mind and body hold onto the feelings that were experienced - even as long as sixty-three years ago. WOW!  Sometimes we wonder where our sadness comes from, what the origin is of our anger or fear.  You can be sure, that stored within the mind and body, feelings felt in the past raise their ugly heads.  When that happens to you, ask yourself:  "What happened back then that creates the feeling I feel now?"  Once identified, we can process through the current feelings and move on.

So now I will write the blog that I intended to write for today, and do so minus the sadness.

I am in California.  Actually my friend and I flew here on Friday, for an appointment with the kindest, Christian Orthopedic surgeon - the one who performed surgery on my neck three years ago.  Funny, but my friend needed the exact same procedure done in the same spot in her neck as mine had been. I wrote about her in the 4-16-08 blog.

The appointment went well, and the need for the scheduled surgery was verified.  We were booked into a Bed and Breakfast for the weekend, and it was FABULOUS!  Breakfasts were absolutely superb!  We went to church and then to the Pastor's study where he and our surgeon anointed my friend prior to her surgery.  Next was home to dinner with "our" surgeon and his physician-wife for a great meal and an inspiring afternoon.

Sunday was a day of adventure after another wonderful breakfast.  It was Mother's Day and difficult to be away from our children, grandchildren and husbands, but rather than mourn, we decided to go on a mild adventure - couldn't be too crazy ‘cuz of my friends neck in need of repair.

We headed out toward Big Tree Park - home of giant sequoias and sky-reaching redwoods.  On our way we journeyed through a town that had their laundry out to dry - really!  It was strung across the main street, high above pedestrians and traffic.  But on second thought, those clothes must have been there quite a while, as they certainly are not the fashions of the day.  There, antique shops and quaint stores lined the narrow street and the fragrance of coffee and pastries being eaten by folks sitting at tiny tables outside picturesque cafes' enticed us to stop, but we were still satisfied from breakfast.

Soon a needed rest stop was made at the only spot available, a winery.  The proprietor told us that she had no public restroom, but directed us up the road a piece to another winery that did - and that also housed the largest gold nugget in the world.  While the nugget was a sight to behold, it was the flower garden that took our breath away.  We used half the film on our throw-away cameras there.

And finally to the giant trees forest - a sanctuary - a place of reverence and awe.  We walked the mile and a half-trail, drove another few miles observing elegant scenery, and came to our refreshing at the Susquehanna River.  We climbed down a very long staircase to the rapidly flowing, rocky river.

A flat bolder at the river's edge provided a perfect seat. We removed our sandals and thrust out feet into the icy cold water. WOW!  But so refreshing!  Our feet slipped in and out for about half an hour of sheer delight as we watched the clear river crash into and over the rocks in its path.

On our trip back toward the B and B, we spotted our favorite place for an Oriental salad, and afterwards were ready for our luxurious room. We passed a pharmacy we had passed many times in the previous three days, and a voice in my head said for the third or fourth time, "You haven't looked there yet!"  I turned sharply into Right-Aid Pharmacy lot and pulled into a parking spot. 

"What in the world?" my friend asked.  "Just gotta look one more place for that pillow," I said. You see, my friend had become addicted to a special pillow that Ron bought for me in this same town when I had my surgery there three years ago. She had been using it to help relax her neck so she could sleep ever since her neck problem arose, but alas, it had been left in the car when we got out at the airport.  We had looked high and low in that town to no avail.  And I think she thought I was nuts. 

The same kind of pillow was there!  Only difference was an ivory velour cover rather than a green one. Truth is, sometimes God keeps giving us messages until we heed them so that He can offer us tokens of His love and care - little miracles. We arrived at our B and B, rejoicing and praising God for the miracles He had wrought those three days. Sights we had never seen and experiences not enjoyed before, a wonderful place to stay for the three nights before surgery, an anointing by the man who would perform her surgery, and then her precious pillow.

As I write, I sit with my laptop in her room - #309.  She is 28 hours post-op, has been out of bed and walked down the hall and back three times, has gotten beyond the nausea, and is currently relaxing with the help of a tiny bit of pain medication.  The surgery was a success!  It was definitely needed, and will provide a new lease on life for this dear friend of mine.  I thank God for His mercies and His miracles!  Hope you look for and count yours too! 

 Did you know that stress is a killer?  It can affect your blood pressure, for sure, and when your blood pressure goes up, so do your chances for a whole set of physical maladies!  Not a good thing! Stress can affect other parts and systems of your body too, and to tell the truth, prolonged stress is just plain no good.

Recently I have been feeling some stress, and I don’t like it, but more importantly, it doesn’t like me. The stress has disappeared, but my body has held onto its ill-effects.  My BP was up (not dangerously, but higher than normal for me) and as is typical with stress, it went to lodge in the vulnerable spot in my body - my neck.  You see, I have had cervical surgery and added to that, neck and shoulders are notoriously susceptible to stress.  When my neck tenses up, so do my shoulders and upper back, and I get a persistent headache. YUK! 

Well, two days ago, a coupon came in the mail for a substantial savings on a Mother’s Day Massage from a good therapist.  I have been to her before, so I decided to take advantage of the coupon.

Have you ever had a massage from a therapist who really knows what they’re doing?  WOW!  It’s what I imagine an hour in paradise would be.  Soft, non-descript music softly plays in a dimly lit, extremely clean, private room.  You undress to your level of comfort, and climb onto the padded massage table, between sparkling white sheets. My therapist came into the room, and because I had told her where I was hurting, she began work on my upper back and neck.

Was the experience without pain?  NO! But it didn’t matter.  I was in the hands of a caring professional, a Christian, who knew her work well and did her job thoroughly.  One hour later, I rose from the table, headache free and relaxed!

If you haven’t experienced a therapeutic massage, consider doing that for yourself when life’s little or big stressors make you feel out of sorts – or maybe just because it’s Mother’s Day or some other occasion, and you’re celebrating.  Lots of good water to drink afterwards, and perhaps a heating pad set on warm, and you’ll feel like a new puppy!

I DO!

People who are alive are passionate about something, but not all of the walking, breathing of our species are alive, I’ve discovered.  Their hearts beat, their lungs breathe, they eat and drink and I suppose they sleep, but they are on auto pilot – unresponsive, uncaring, mechanical and not really there when you speak to them.  What has happened to lull them to sleep, to take the life out of them, to make them into functioning robots?

I believe that everyone has been wounded in some manner - to some extent - some much more than others.  Some had the damage done when we were just forming in the womb or in those first couple of years of life.  Others had the damage later in childhood or adolescence. But whenever it has occurred, it has forced us onto a road of self-protect; self-survival.  We have pulled ourselves inward to avoid the thorns and thistles that frighten us while we endeavor, occasionally successfully, to smell the roses.

I am passionate about the work that God has given me to do.  I am blessed each time Ron and I teach a seminar and watch as little by little people in the audience come out of the shadows and find that light can be safe and expanding of one’s experience.  Ron is passionate about creating graphics designed to explain an important point to those who learn best visually and in pictures.  We are, as a couple, passionate about our Savior, each other, our family and about offering hope to others.

My dentist is passionate too!  His passion is in creating symmetry and beauty in a person’s smile, and is as excited as a child when it all comes together the way he has envisioned and created it.  I was amazed at his enthusiasm as he worked on my mouth.

My friend is passionate about her grandchildren – more so than I have ever seen in a Grandma.  Please understand, I adore mine too, but this gal is over the top – and those kiddos know it too.  They adore her as much as she adores them!  I have a friend who is zealous about traveling, another who is an avid lover of flowers, still another is an ardent reader.

My question to you today is:  About whom are you passionate?  Are you fervent, ardent, zealous, avid, obsessive, fanatical, adoring, loving  (these are all synonyms of passionate) about your God, your spouse, your children, your grandchildren or your friends?  Who occupies your focus?  If it is none of the above, you are probably lonely, perhaps self-centered; maybe you’ve pulled in to self-protect.

Evaluate your passion.  Do you have one or more? Ask yourself if your passion(s) is beneficial or detrimental. Is it out of your need to self-protect or is it out of your emptiness?  Let’s hear from you!

Remember the song that Willie Nelson made popular – “On the Road Again?”   I have been singing it often lately.  We arrived home Tuesday night, and it’s Thursday evening now. Tomorrow morning we are off to do another seminar.  This time the flight will not be quite as long as last time – just a quick jaunt to California.

As I write, the suitcases are opened on our bed and most of the packing is done.  After fifteen years of living “on the road” I am learning to pack lightly.  There’s no way that you can prepare for all of the eventualities or maybe’s, so rather than take several outfits for each of us, I am learning that the lighter the load, the easier the journey is.  Two pantsuits for me and four different tops, and for Ron two suits and four shirts – that’s it, except of course for undies and toiletries.

Actually that’s just the way it is on life’s journey too.  The less baggage filled with resentments, anger, fear, sadness, unforgiveness, criticism and the like, the lighter the load and the smoother the journey.  Why, one can actually enjoy life when not burdened down with “stuff!”  That’s why the recovery process is needed – a period of time to recover from carrying far more baggage than we need – a time to catch our breath and re-focus.

I recall the first time we went to England for two weeks of R and R.  I took far too much luggage – totally unnecessary!  By our fifth trip there we were just carrying a small carry-on each.  Underwear could be washed out nightly, and was without a problem.  What a joy it was to pop on a train (minding the gap, of course) with a light pull-along. And for bringing home what we had purchased, we simply used canvas bags that could hang on the suitcase’s handle.

So we are off again in the morning, lightly packed and excited about our destination and the fun that awaits us there.  We will meet and greet old friends and make new ones, and we will have the privilege of teaching and pointing the way for weary travelers to unload their burdens.

See ya!

• Presidential candidates tout their own greatness and demean the abilities and characters of each other. 
  
• Angry preachers scream verbiage from the pulpit against their country and against God.
  
• A helpless mother is stabbed to death while her little child sits beside her in shock and helplessness.
  
• Men and women stray outside the bounds of their marital commitments, have affairs and end up conceiving a child.  To cover the sticky situation, a Marine, a married man, kills his lover and unborn child, and buries them in his back yard.  Can you imagine the hardhearted, sociopathic mind that would then invite friends over to have a barbeque in a fire pit over the body of his dead lover and child?
  
• A group of eight and nine year old classmates devise a plot to kill their teacher because they don’t like some rule she has made.
  
• The financial freedom of thousands is jeopardized because those in power positions make wrong, poor judgments, causing husbands to lose the job that supports their families and many, planning on a comfortable retirement, to now fear the future.
  
• War is everywhere!  It’s here in the US on our borders, it’s in far away Afganistan, Iran, Iraq, Israel, Palestine, Africa and who knows where else.
  
• Strange illnesses seem to pop up everywhere, with cures as obscure as the origin of the problem.

Big Announcement!!

We are going to appear on the 3ABN Television Network  (on Dish, it’s channel 9702) on 3-28-08 at 1 am (Central Time) and on Saturday, 3-29-08 at 8 am, 3 pm and 9 pm, Central Time.

The program is entitled TODAY, and it is an hour long interview conducted by 3ABN’s President and CEO, Jim Gilley.

On the 25th, yes, just two days ago, we filmed that interview at the World Headquarters of 3 ABN, in  southern Illinois.  We think you will enjoy the interview, because we enjoyed our time there for that hour of visiting with Jim Gilley.  It was a lively interview and covers our personal and marital history, highlights our work and introduces our new program of recovery, The Journey.

Our visit to 3 ABN was a busy one, as we also filmed five half-hour Issues and Answers programs with Shelly Quinn as moderator.  We will announce when those programs will be aired. You will discover a button on the home page of our website that says 3ABN viewers.  Click that button and you’ll be able to download a graphic of what we discussed during those 5 programs, as well as a written explanation. You’ll also be able to access information about and register for our upcoming seminars in Chattanooga, Tennessee and Ventura, California – both scheduled in April, 2008.

Be sure to tune in to at least one of the showings of the TODAY program and remember to go to http://www.yourlri.com/ to download some great information.

Enjoy!

By the time the girls and I got home from the concert, we were all exhausted, so the girls ran off to their room and reverted to what amused them before they came to Grandma and Grandpa’s house – their electronic games.  We don’t really approve of a lot of electronic gadgets for children, because they cause exactly what happened last night – separation from the family and isolation in a room with a closed door.  Perhaps they closed the door because Grandpa was watching a football game on television – a rare privilege – but they were hidden, Grandpa was absorbed in the game, and I fixed dinner alone. 

When supper was ready, we ate together, all of us with good appetites from the activities of the day!  One girl’s job that day was to rinse the dishes and put them in the dishwasher, and the other had the responsibility to take out the trash.  The dishes were done swiftly as the girls were anxious, super anxious, to finish that special, tedious project for their parents.

We worked, but it was difficult to keep the girls’ attention on the task.  They were really too tired for it, but determined to get it done, as this was a special Christmas gift for their parents. They were precise and persistent, but it was a difficult experience. Tired children are either overly giddy or squabble easily.

Finally it came time for bed – actually past time. We were planning on a cup of Sleepytime Tea before they went to bed and I had put the kettle on. This is our special treat! They had gone to their room and shut the door, and I went to take them some clean clothes I had folded.  When I opened the door, I was horrified.  These girls had an incredible mess in their room, and part of their daily responsibilities is to keep the room tidy with dirty clothes in the hamper and clothes hung, personal items put away, etc.  You see, we keep a chart, and they get stars for accomplishments.  That chart was really looking good!  They would get a special reward at the end of their time with us – already bought – and now this was in jeopardy!  The girls, not in their PJ’s and ready for bed, were lying on the bed playing a game.

I opened my mouth!  “How do you girls dare to trash this room and not get in your jammies as you were told to do?  What has happened here?  I am really disappointed!  Please do as you were told.”  I left the room and shut the door behind me.

Shortly, in their pajamas, the girls came out expecting the nighttime treat of tea. “Not tonight, I told them.  The kettle was on, but I shut it off when I saw your room and your disobedience.  Teatime is a privilege, and you don’t get it tonight.  Sit here at the table; I want to talk to you.”

“Girls, if I were you, I would be so embarrassed! This entire week-end has been all about you and what you want to do, and experiencing and enjoying fun things for you.  What exactly have you seen me do for me this week-end?”  They quickly answered, “Nothing,” 

“Exactly girls and it is a great disappointment to me to see that you cannot fulfill your responsibilities.  You have been fed three good meals a day, been to events, wrapped gifts that we’ve made, done crafts that are more gifts and even had a meal in a nice restaurant, but you couldn’t keep your end of the bargain.  I think the thing that disappoints me the most is the attitude I got when I walked into your messy room.  You were annoyed that I had caught you.  So your comment, “So.o.o.r.r.y, Gram – Ge.e.e.s,”  wasn’t “I am sorry Grandma.”  It was disgust with me for daring to mention your disobedience and disrespect.  That is very hurtful.  If this is what your Mom and Dad allow you to be like to them, I am sorry for them. They work hard and try to keep a nice home for you both, and they don’t need the disrespect and the disobedience.”

“I want you to be thinking about this as you go to sleep and tomorrow too.  We’ll talk again about it tomorrow.  Now it’s time for bed.  I love you both.”

Now - the dilemma for us adults.  One girl had faithfully fulfilled her duties (with the exception of last night) and the other scrapes by doing as little as possible.  This morning, her pajamas are left on the bathroom floor, her portable musical instrument is crossways on the path to the bed, and dirty socks are on the floor instead of in the hamper. Remember, the surprises are already bought.  Do you dare reward one and leave the other without the reward?  Do you use tough love here in order to teach a lesson, or do you just overlook the missed responsibilities?

One wrote a note last night that said, “We are sorry Grandma.  We should be saying Thank you to you.”  The other girl used half a box of tissues from crying last night, but is the same one who left PJ’s on the bathroom floor this morning!  Does she just not get it? She’s the one with the most demands – “sew the tear in the lining of my coat, do embroidery on my school uniform shirts, wash my jacket, etc.”

Loving can be tough.  If you really want to teach the girls, you have to follow through with the arrangements that were made, don’t you?  Gosh, this is just as hard on us old fogies as it is on the children!  We’ll let you know what we decide.