Since moving up to the mountains, I have been having a daily controversy with the weeds.  It seems to me, and our neighbor agrees, that you can dig out all the weeds in a given area, come in the house exhausted but delighted that you got rid of the things, and then when you go outside again in a couple of hours, there's a whole lot more weeds where you just weeded!  I don't get it.  How come they grow really fast but the pretty stuff you plant doesn't?
 
I will have to say however, that pretty plants put into my little rock garden last year, are really blooming beautifully this year.  There were a few weeds there too, but I carefully removed them so that the pretties would show off well.
 
You know, this reminds me of the human life.  I looked up the definition of weed in the dictionary, and believe it or not, what I found is so true of the "weeds" in our experience.  The dictionary says that a weed is:  "An unwanted plant, especially a wild plant growing where it is not wanted."
 
I have weeds in my life, and if you're human, I bet you do too.  Impatience is one of mine.  I want this unpacking to be done and over, but it can't be until we do several things in the house - Like  a Master Bathroom shower that needs to be moved to where the huge corner tub is (that we NEVER use) and a lovely cedar lined closet put where the old shower was.  And when our addition is completed (isn't started yet) we will have a huge closet for ministry items.  It's hard to look at those two trailers that are currently parked in our driveway, and just dream them away - empty! 
 
Another of my weeds is busyness, and unfortunately that one is tied to impatience.  It's hard for me to just relax, to sit and write, when I can think of so many other things that I want to do to make our home a restful place.  Clutter drives me nuts!  So I just keep working at it, endeavoring to find a place for everything and putting everything in its place.  All the busyness is tiring, and then it's easy to be short or touchy with others.
 
So what to do with all these weeds?  Just keep plucking them out, I guess.  I can spray them with some sort of weed-killer, but they are toxic, and anyway, you end up looking at dead weeds instead of live ones.  Is that really any better?  And the other thing to do is to plant lovely flowers where there is just plain dirt and weeds. One can do that in the character too.  Pluck up the unwanted weeds (behaviors, thoughts, and attitudes) and plant lovely flowers that will give you and everyone who looks on, a lift.
 
Happy planting!

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Have you ever felt totally exhausted, overwhelmed and wondered where the energy would come from for one or two more activities?  Well, that's just where we were a few days ago! 

As you know, we moved a couple of weeks ago - truck, trailer and car.  Behind, we left items that couldn't fit into our traveling vehicles, in the garage, and that faced us after endeavoring to unpack, spending four days preparing for EIDO, making the trip to Washington State, making the necessary purchases and then teaching for six long days.  Then there was a bit of counseling yet to do, and finally the return trip.  We had planned to drive to Phoenix, pack up the remaining items in our flatbed trailer, and then drive to El Paso, pick up the Pacifica parked at the airport where we left it to go to Washington, and then three hours up the hill to home.

After finishing EIDO, we decided we would postpone that trip to Phoenix and head straight home, endeavoring to get a little rest before the last leg of the move.  We called our friends to let them know that they didn't have to worry about overnight guests, and got the surprise of our lives!

Kenny had taken his son and his worker to our garage.  He had built sides for our trailer, and packed it completely with all the leftovers. WHAT???  He would do that for us??   Yes!

So again we changed our plans, and got off the plane in Phoenix.  Ken and Donna met us at the airport, took us home for a cool, light supper, gave us the beautifully appointed guest room for the night, a delightful breakfast in the morning, and then sent us on our way to El Paso and on to home.

What kind of friends would care that much to take the risk, pack up someone else's "stuff" and surprise them with the greatest gift ever?  Friends who love you and want the best for you;  friends who know you well enough to know that you'd be exhausted after a move and a lengthy seminar, friends who know that you have enough challenges and want to lighten your load, friends who listen to God and respond to His voice.

So yes, Kenny, Donna, Robbie and Mario - you loved, you cared, you listened, and you cannot believe how loved we feel!  The relief that the necessary move has been made is beyond thrilling.

Thank you seems so insipid - yet it seems to be all we can say.  YOU ARE LOVED!

And now, on to more of the unpacking!

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Spring has sprung - in some places anyway.  This weekend, we took a ride with some friends and in three hours passed through rain, sleet, snow, sunshine and a beautiful rainbow.  Having experienced various weather conditions in such a short span, we took the rainbow as God's promise that spring is definitely on its way - as usual!  This year it just seems to be taking its time. 


 
Every year about this time, daffodils, crocus, singing birds and tulips here and there announce that the deadness of winter is being replaced again by new life.  Delicate light green new leaves sprout on what looked like dead branches and folks begin to spend time planning their plantings for the summer.

Me too!  I've been thinking about the little garden near the main entrance of our mountain home.  I drew it on a napkin as we flew home from a seminar last week, and pictured the colorful blooms surrounding our three wooden bears - Mama, papa and baby. Our butterfly bushes are hopefully springing to life again, and I look forward to the winged activity that surrounds them when the blooms appear.  Our Blue spruce trees will have their soft new growth in a couple of weeks, and the large cedar beside our hillside driveway will have a bench placed beneath it and perhaps a few flowers that do well in shade planted nearby.  I hope to plant something nice in three huge pots we will take from Arizona to the mountains, so that there will be some color on our deck. We sit there in the cool early morning with our cups of hot tea - our special time of the day to enjoy the crisp, clean air, plan our day and listen to the sounds of the nature that surrounds us.


 
There is something very special about each season, but spring has an emotional component that is different than the other three seasons. It's a time of hope, of birth, of reassurance that God is in His heaven and all is right with the world.  Even in this time of strife everywhere, there's something about a cheery daffodil, a pansy's perky face and the sweet chirping of birds who have been away or hiding for the winter, that says to me that God is still in charge, the seasons change on time, life springs even thru the winter's snow and God will still take care of his children.
 
It can be easy to get discouraged listening to and watching the news. Fears for the future can pop up out of nowhere, just like the crocuses through the snow.  But if you find yourself in that state - wondering what will become of the world around us and the people in it, just go out in God's glorious fresh air, find some spring flowers, and be reminded that God is still in control.



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Ever noticed how when something really negative occurs, something positive is sure to follow?

Ever notice how when something is taken away from you, somehow entirely different other blessings arrive on your doorstep?

I've been feeling rather "down" lately.  Life as we have known it for the past ten years is taken a giant turn.  The friends I love and hold so dear are going to be miles away from me, the quick trip to the grocery store (my favorite place to roam up and down the aisles when anxious or overburdened, is going to be miles away now - like 15 - instead of 3 blocks away.  The kitchen we had renovated and decorated in shades of a beautiful mellow green, will be left behind, with my wonderful double ovens (something I had dreamed about owning for years) are, of course, going to be left behind as well.

I've discovered already, that the older we get, the harder it is for change to take place.  Rest assured however, we are going to a beautiful spot.  The weather couldn't be nicer, and being near our daughter and her children will be great, but still, the change, the packing, and the deciding what to sell, what to pitch and what to keep is challenging!

I was having what one could call a meltdown the other day.  I was packing some things in my lovely kitchen, and the tears were flowing.  My mother had given us a small amount of money and it was used for the kitchen.  Somehow, that room represented her, and the connection of the loss of her and the loss of the kitchen became muddled with each other.

And then the blessings arrived!  Ron, who was working in the study, just arrived in the kitchen, put his arms around me and literally hugged me with his heart.  He asked what the real problem was, and the dam let loose.  That was OK with him - he just let me weep until I could explain. I then decided to take a break from the kitchen and catch up on my e-mails.  There was an e-mail from a pastor we had done seminars for years ago.  He reported on two wonderful stories of success following his members completing the recovery program.  There was another from another country, where current success is occurring far beyond our wildest dreams.

There they were - three wonderful heart-felt blessings to make me understand that our marriage and our work are far more important and impacting than our momentary losses.

As you struggle through the effects of these difficult economic times, look for the blessings that the good Lord pours on you with one hand while the times in which we live and the circumstances of life seem to take away with the other.

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Reader's Comments:
Mandy and Amber's Mom - I am lucky - God sent me a partner I can cry on and with also! And even though my loss is great - the blessings coming from it are many and wondrous!

Have you ever conducted a tag, yard, garage or moving sale?  Did you find it to be a fun experience?
 
Today was the first day of a two-day event, but we aren't so sure that it'll take two days to sell everything!  The huge signs around the neighborhood said that we were going to be open on Thursday and Friday from 8 AM to 3 PM. However, people began to arrive at 7 AM.  Perhaps where we live is the Yard or Moving Sale capitol of the world, I am not sure, but I do know that the folk here are great enthusiasts for such events!  WOW, they are serious about this sale business!
 
It took us about three weeks of packing and sorting - not full time, mind you, because we are still teaching and writing and conducting the work of Life Renewal Institute.  With the help of two very precious friends, we've been able to spend a couple of hours here and there, and in the last three days, we spent probably 4-5 hours of sorting, boxing, pricing etc.
 
Well, it's about 4 PM on Day One of the sale. I am in my recliner (a Yard Sale find) that has a vibrator in the lower back area.  My feet are propped up, and Baby, am I ever grateful for my yard sale find!  My legs are screaming, but know what?  Tomorrow's sale is off!  We still have a few more things (mainly books from our vast library, but the bookcases are gone!  I think we'll wait until after our Portland, Oregon event to have another sale.  Who knows?  By then there will probably be more "stuff to sell!
 
I suppose that in this economy, folks are looking for a steal on anything.  Items priced at ten cents went as fast as pricier items.  The 25 cent items flew off the tables!
 
Sometimes it takes a while to prepare for an event - a wedding, an anniversary, a special celebration - and before you know it the day is over, Been thinkin' that it's that way with life!  Just about the time you think you've finally grown up, the gray hairs and creaky limbs appear.  Sometimes you wonder why you never did the things you wanted to do before the aches and pains of maturing age hit ya', but at least you've got those retirement years  to do some of what you wanted.  If you're one of the lucky ones that the financial meltdown has not affected too drastically, praise God for your blessings.  Hop on a golf cart or in your car, and go a-tag-sale-in'.  See what bargains you can find, meet some of the nicest people in the world, and thank your God in Heaven for the little things in life!

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Readers Comments:
Mandy and Amber's Mom: Thanks for this - it was great getting to "know" you a bit better - your a great story teller - maybe you should do a book!! :)

Mary Anne: AMEN! I'm"'hi-five'in" y'all! Whoo-hoo! You surely hit the nail on the head!

Paper, paper everywhere - and much more stuff to shred!  My Grandmother's stuff, my parents' stuff and ours!  It's just too much when one finally comes to downsizing and packing to move.
 
We have had a storage room off of our garage, where we have kept files and files of not-needed and now definitely unwanted papers of all types. You don't want to know how many bags of shredded paper our poor garbage man has had to haul off- unbelievable.  There was just NO WAY we were going to cart it all to our smaller house that does not have a garage nor a storage room, and is in itself, much smaller than our house here.
 
Reminds me of the stuff of our lives that we keep and just don't need to!  Of course there are precious, treasured memories, that we hope we'll never loose, but there are other experiences and thoughts and feelings that we need to shred and put in some never-to-be-looked-at-again landfill, far away!
 
After all of the research that we have done about the human mind and it's power, we believe that those long ago, should-have-been-trashed memories, that are filled with the accompanying emotion, slow down our thinking and create glitches in our recall and thought processes as we age.  We believe that many seniors loose awareness and memory because there's too much "paper" (recorded memory and emotions) junking up the brain, just like the unwanted paper has cluttered our storage room and study.
 
You know, one of the finest thing we can do for seniors, is to get them to talk about the past - their lives, their loves, their pain, their regrets.  That's like helping them to identify unneeded paper and shredding it, making things ever so much simpler.  Maybe, before you are a senior, you should start talking or writing about some of your memories.  It's the painful ones that drag us down, because the accompanying negative emotions pull us toward sadness, anger, fear and a host of other negative emotions.
 
Moral of this blog - start shredding NOW!

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Reader's Comments:
Lynda - Oh my gosh--you are SO right!! My husband of 50 years died last summer and it has been so devastating to me and our kids and grandkids. We were all so close.

I have also gone through piles & piles pf paperwork AND also through my inlaw's. My husband could never seem to do that after they were both gone, and also never did anything with their property, house, and contents.

So now am I dealing with all of it. It breaks my heart to see how all their things have deteriorated, but I am finding many things my kids will be glad to have for sentimental reasons. Including some of my husband's old toys we found in the attic.

My kids are very helpful to me, and get along well, so I thank God for them.

Thank you, too...

Mandy and Amber's Mom - think this is great advice - we get bogged down so easily with all the unimportant stuff in life - the little things that we should just "shred" out of our memory banks!

I found out how precious life can be and how fast it can disappear - knowing what to hold onto and what is important becomes much more clear...

Bryon - Thank you so much for writing so many informative and important blogs with a point! I appreciate reading them from time to time because it is always good information and it makes me think. God Bless you in your continued ministry.

We are in Sun City, the retirement capitol of the world!  Many people play golf here on one of the MANY courses, and most people, whether or not they play golf, own a golf cart. They are fun open-air vehicles that don't go much faster than 30 mph, and can be used on most streets here in town.
 
Yesterday Deb and I decided to go for a ride - fresh air, sunshine and all that!  We had some rolls left over from the previous supper, and decided to donate them to the ducks at one of the local  ponds, so off we went.
 
When we arrived, we were swarmed by pigeons, who I suppose thought that they were going to get the hand-out, but we had our minds made up - this bread was for the ducks!  As we approached the water's edge with our bag of goodies, the ducks swam quickly to greet us, hoping that our sack contained their snack.
 
After that fifteen minute experience, we have decided that the ducks are no different from humans in their need to be first, their selfish greed and their eagerness to do whatever it takes to get ahead!
 
Two black ducks seemed to be standing on top of the water as they fought each other over a few crumbs. They snipped and bit each other, and the battle finally ended when one ducked under the water and bobbed up elsewhere.  But that wasn't enough for the aggressor, who quickly paddled to where his partner had popped up, to snip and bite at him again!



One brown duck, who Deb's granddaughter had named "Peanut Butter" was a target of much jealousy, as Deb tried, almost in vain, to see that Peanut Butter got her fair share.  Two other brown ducks attacked, attempting to chase her away from the landing bread scraps.
 
There was one pure white duck on the pond in the midst of beautiful iridescent purple and green headed mallards. "Whitey" seemed to shrink back, reticent to swim forward within reach of the bread. This was the shy duck, more interested in harmony with the others than in eating himself.
 
Most swam as fast as possible to bread scraps landing in the water from the shore.  They would circle and dive for the bread as for lost treasure.  Actually, the scene was reminiscent of a football game's big tackle or a parade, where candy is being thrown to the bystanders from people on a passing float.
 
"I want, I want, Gimmee, That's mine!, Me first, It's my turn."  Ever watch a group of people wanting to be the first to board a plane or a train or a bus?  It's as if the world will come to an end if they aren't first to board. I guess it's about survival, but are we so self-centered and selfish, that we, like the ducks, don't care who we hurt as long as we get "it" first and make sure that what we do get is the BEST? Do we step on others to get to the top?
 
Watch people for a week or two, and write in with your thoughts.  See how many "Whiteys" you can find in the crowd versus the others who will do whatever they can to get "the bread."

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After a lengthy absence from home, beginning the end of January, I went to the office and noticed that my calendar was still on January.  As I turned the page to pass February and land in March, I noticed that my February calendar, entitled "Flavors of Life," had a giant picture of a pair of pears on the February page.  How coincidental - or was it?
 
We have spent the last four seminars ministering to pairs - to couples.  In my calendar picture, two Bosc pairs sit on a table, surrounded by their leaves.  The left pair, slight larger and taller than the right one, leans toward the other with it's top curled slightly over it's companion pair in a protective stance.  The right pair leans into the embrace.  These two pears do indeed, look like a human pair, snuggled to each other.  What a profound picture.
 
God did create first the male, the stronger of the two, to be provider, protector and priest.  And when He saw that it was not good for man to be alone, he created a "helper suitable for him" to be the concerned, compassionate caregiver.  Amazing how this picture on my calendar seems to depict that.
 
As we have dealt with couples here in the US, the Czech Republic, Russia, the islands of the Caribbean, Singapore, Guam and England,  we have discovered that the issues they confront are not appreciably different from each other.  The issue of selfishness raises its ugly head everywhere, and to be sure, each individual brings into their relationship, the issues that they carry from previous generations in their own families.  He brings his junk, she brings hers and together they make more of the same.
 
How in the world do we get around this?  We DON'T!  We have to go headlong, straight through it.  We have to look at our beginnings, going back in previous generations as far as we can to find and then acknowledge the trash that has been handed to us.  Of course, we wade through that to discover the good we received, because there's always some of that.  And then each individual must do their own work of removing the emotional charges from their old memories.  This will guarantee that her junk doesn't affect him and visa versa.
 
There's a process to help you do that work - thought you might like to know.  Actually there are three choices:


A  22 session recovery program - Binding the Wounds


A scientific and more complete approach to emotional healing - The Journey (4, 10-session segments)


Created for Success - This one's been out a while, but is still effective.

So if you want your marital picture to look like the pair of pears, and it currently doesn't, may we suggest the above restitutional programs? Click on each program name for more info or to order.

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About four miles from where we stayed in Sutton-Under-Whitestonecliff, is a picturesque little village known as Kilburn.  Stone cottages stand just beyond the small stream that runs along the narrow main road through town.  A pub, a tiny village market and a white horse carved into the hill would be the only claims to fame in this village, if it weren’t for the Mouseman.

Robert (Mouseman) Thompson (7 May 1876 – 8 December 1955) was a British furniture maker. In Kilburn, he set up a business where he manufactured English oak furniture, which featured a carved mouse on almost every piece. It is claimed that the mouse trademark came about accidentally in 1919 following a conversation about "being as poor as a church mouse", which took place between Thompson and one of his colleagues during the carving of a cornice for a screen. This chance remark led to him carving a mouse and this remained part of his work from this point onwards.

The Mouseman’s Visitor’s Center was not open during this time of year, but the furniture showroom and store was. We enjoyed seeing the exquisitely made furniture crafted by the firm that has continued since Thompson’s death.  The most beautiful of the furniture to us, were the chairs with hand-carved basket weave style backs and the huge matching china cabinet.  Had we opted to bring  home a table, six chairs and the china cabinet, our bill would have been dangerously close to 10,000.00 pounds plus shipping.  Do we think the items worth the price?  Absolutely.  They are of the quality that could be handed down for several generations.

As much as we would love to afford such quality to hand to our daughters and grandchildren.  unfortunately, our budget does not include such pricey expenditures.  We’ve discovered however, that it costs very little in nickels and dimes to have a treasure to hand down to our kids.  In truth, the greatest heritage is a family intact and functional.  That legacy is carried in the mind and heart every moment of every day, and holds our heirs in good stead as days go by.

Check out this picture of Thompson’s mouse, his chosen branding.  This was his signature.  What particular signature is on your life and the treasures you will hand down to your heirs?

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Reader's Comments:
Karla - One of the best blogs so far from your trip... Gave me plenty to think about. I'm so glad and blessed that I have a GOOD and GRACIOUS Father... He has seen fit to pass me through the "fire" many a time...and I believe it is for the "dross" to be burned away... I pass those lessons on to my children daily... " I am NOT ashamed of the gospel of Christ" for it has brought me my salvation and humbled me day by day and moment by moment. Thank you for reminding me of the "mice" the Lord has carved in and out of my life...my "living" legacy of HOPE...showing how much God loves me and my family. Your unmet (as of yet) friend in Pagosa Spgs. Colorado

Jodi - A wonderful blog! This is what I ask myself on a daily basis..."What legacy am I leaving for my family and those around me?" At the moments when I see God's handiwork in and through my life I am satisfied. At those moments when I see MY "handiwork", I am undone. I praise my Father right now for His grace and healing! It is my continual prayer that His grace covers and heals scars of iniquity.

Well, come to discover, Scagglethorpe was closer in miles than we had thought.  Traveling there would make an excellent excursion, especially choosing to pass through tiny hamlets and villages.  And so we did.  Bagby, Wass, Oswaldkirk, Stonegrave (where we saw a church built before 757AD), Hovingham, Slingsby, Barton le Street, Appleton le Street, Swipton, Malton and then Scagglethorpe.  What a fantastic trip through many tiny hamlets, places just where we would love to be for a year.

Arriving at Eric’s home, we discovered that no one was home, and the children’s toys in the yard made us question if Jeanette and Michael still lived there.  The next choice was inquiring at the Ham n’ Cheese.  There was a fellow who claimed to know Michael, told us that they had moved away, and suggested that Michael might be playing darts at a nearby pub.  He phoned Michael on his cell, found him and informed him that someone would be coming to the pub to visit.

We were thrilled to see each other, but instantly knew that things had changed.  Michael didn’t look well.  His hands shook as he hugged us and then told us that he’d been diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease.  Eric was in fact, deceased.  He had died three years ago from a complication that resulted in septicemia.  Eric’s daughter, Jeanette, was in Scarborough, where they own a struggling restaurant called Smuggler’s, that they are currently endeavoring to sell, so that he and Jeanette can have more time together.

Time marches on and we are all faced with changes and challenges. Death overtakes us, illness engulfs, financial challenges make us question the future, but regardless of threatening circumstances, still God is in charge.  Of course we have an enemy, who would discourage and depress us, hoping to separate us from life-saving relationship with God. Our wisest choice is to remain strongly attached to Him and confident that whatever occurs is ultimately for our best good.

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Reader's Responses:
Byron - Amen to that last part.
I also must say that I agree that going through all the small towns on the road less traveled is the way to go!

On to the Czeck Republic!  I wonder if we'll be warm enough - considering that Russia has cut the supply of natural gas to the Ukraine and it is affecting the Czeck Republic.  We've brought along warm clothes and hope we can survive the cold temperatures.
 
We will be in a place that we've never been before, but we've experienced a foreign audience before.  As when we were in Russia, we will speak through an interpreter. It's not the easiest thing because we always wonder if what we said is what the audience heard.  What was said or missed in the process of translation?  Was the emphasis placed on the correct syllable?  Did they actually get the drift of the message we were endeavoring to convey, or did the translator miss the point?
 
I remember the concern that we felt in Russia because we were two speakers, the male and the female perspectives.  How in the world can one male translator get those meanings and inferences across?
 
We had to wait until the end to see the results of the message and its translation - the impact made on the hearers present.  Once we saw the responses, heard the questions they asked that related directly to what we said through our interpreter, we had to agree that it was not the work or words of two speakers, nor was it the skill of our interpreter, but the power of the Great Teacher that impacted those who came to hear.  Each learner heard what they needed to hear as the Holy Spirit impressed upon each individual mind exactly what would benefit them the most.
 
So as we pack our clothes for the cold and our notes and computer for the presentations, we will recall the blessings in Russia and feel confident that God will give to each Czechoslovakian hearer, just the message they need for life improvement, regardless of what we say or how it is translated by our interpreter.  God is the Great Teacher, the Great Interpreter, and He is sure to send the right message out.

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In a couple of days, we are bound for England - the land from which all of my predecessors hail.

To be sure, we have been there before, and have loved every minute of it - and I expect we will this time too.  Our plans are to rest, to write and to see a couple of the local sights.  We will be staying in Yorkshire county, home of the greatest cheese - Wensleydale with cranberries.  Perhaps we will get to see the plant where it is made and perhaps even buy a bit to bring home.
 
This past Christmas season, I had a unique privilege.  To begin the process of sorting through "stuff" at home, I began with boxes and boxes of family pictures, some of which I had inherited from my mother's cache.  I came up with the idea of sorting through them all and going back as far as I could with family history in pictures and in the written word.  Fortunately, my mother had preserved some very old photos dating back several generations and Ron's mother had preserved a few.  We got online to an Ancestry website and began looking up family members and comparing what we were learning with the copious notes I had taken from my mother and from my father's first cousin - a British Naval Commander.  We were able to locate ships' manifests with ancestor's names on them and dates of travel from the "old country" to America, additional dates and names, and managed to amass quite the family history!  Ron had taken notes from previous research done and we were able to add to what he already had.
 
So this Christmas, both our daughters got photo albums dating back to 1819 with pictures, captions and a separate booklet of family history and anecdotes.  Also, my father was a Julliard Man - an outstanding pianist, and our girls remember many fun hours around the piano.  We found an old tape of Dad playing hymns.  Ron was able to salvage it and make it into a CD with Dad's picture on it for each of our daughters.
 
There were moments of both laughter and tears as the girls and our eldest grandson looked at pictures, marveled and reminisced over "old times."  I guess the gift was a hit, but beyond that, it puts in the hands of succeeding generations the information about where they've come from and what their ancestors were like.
 
We know that when we are in England, we'll wonder once again if who we pass on the streets of some quaint northern town is a distant relative, as there remain many who are unaccounted for.  And it will feel warm and welcoming to sip a cuppa' tea (that's how they spell and pronounce it) and enjoy a crumpet or an English pastry for breakfast, as we look out on the lamb-dotted countryside.

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Other than travel from our Arizona home to our New Mexico cabin and to the El Paso TV station that is about to air Binding the Wounds in Spanish and in English, Ron and I have not had to travel too much in the last 5 weeks, but that ends now. Our next 5-6 weeks is nothing but.
 
For us, life is going to be complicated for the next couple of months.  Not only are we going to be away from home a lot, but we are endeavoring to sell our house and pack our belongings in the Arizona home. Just check our schedule on the internet site here, and you'll see how complicated that might be.  Haven't figured out just how we will accomplish all that is necessary, but we are counting on the good Lord to provide the strength and the help we will need.
 
We are excited about what is coming up this week-end.  We are in Maine with a group of Pastoral couples, helping them to understand themselves and their relationships so that they can understand their parishioners and help them to have successful lives and marriages.  Then we hop a plane for England for a few days of resting and writing before heading to Prague and then on beyond Prague to another city for a week-end seminar on marriage.
 
After the Czech Republic, we return stateside to Ashburnham, Massachusetts for another marriage seminar for people from southern New England (Massachusetts, Rhode Island and Connecticut.)  The very next weekend we are in New Jersey for a Marriage Seminar.
 
We are due back again March 2nd, and hope to have the house packed up by the end of April, with two other seminars in between.  I for one, and I'm sure Ron is praying like me, that this is our final move before the Good Lord comes or before we die.  Now we aren't hoping to die any time soon, mind you, but look forward to living at a somewhat slower pace in the beautiful New Mexico mountains!  Of course we will still do seminars, after all, that's our calling, our vocation.  We hope to major in the creation of products for healing and we will still help the hurting to walk through their trials. We look forward to being able to mentor others as well.
 
So pray for us, will you, as we sort through the collection of 43 years of accumulations and belongings, and weed out the unnecessary so as to simplify life.  We have certain cherished items that have warm memories and we won't part with them, but don't want unnecessary baggage to "bog us down."
 
If you have stuff that bogs you down, material or emotional, maybe while we are also simplifying, it would be a great idea for you to do the same!
 
Happy pitching and packing!

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Reader's Comments:
Karla - You'll be in my prayers.....not easy "cleaning house" of "memories" :-( What part of N.M. will you be living? We live just N. of the border in Colorado. Pagosa Springs, to be exact. Would love to go to one of your seminars someday!

Nancy - Thank you so much for your prayers. We are on an extensive seminar itinerary until March 5th, and then the "heavy" packing and moving will start. We will be living in Ruidodo, New Mexico - in the mountains at 7000 feet altitude - looking at a 122,003 ft. mountain - Sierre Blanca. Hope to see you one day at a seminar.

Karla - Look at a map...You are probably about 6 hrs from Pagosa Spgs, CO. We also live at a little over 7000 ft, with the San Juan mountains of 11- 12,000 surrounding. I will never grow tired of the beauty. Enjoy the rest of your trip...safe travel back...and prayers for your packing/moving in March.

So you go to bed at 12:15 am or the wee hours of the morning on January 1st, or perhaps you are one of those who pay no attention at all to the celebrations and hilarity of the New Year's Eve.  The question is, does it really make a difference - that one second between 2008 and 2009?  Do you feel any appreciable changes when you awaken on the first, whatever time you manage to crawl out of bed? 
 
Chances are that when you look in the mirror, nothing has changed - same face, same figure, same personality.  Truth is, time, whether a day, an hour or even a few minutes, it is not time or the flip of a page on the calendar that makes the changes you might wish for.  It is true, that your whole life can change in a moment, in an instant.  A serious car accident, a doctor's diagnosis of a terminal illness handed to you or to someone you love, or maybe being laid off or terminated from a job can change the direction you are taking or even your current circumstances.  But nothing as simple as a change of the year, makes life-changing alteration.
 
The things we wish for usually do not happen just ‘cuz we wish for ‘em to.  They happen because we make a decision - we take action. Not feeling well requires a phone call to a doctor to determine the cause.  A flat tire requires a fix or a new one in order for your car to be able to offer the transportation you need.  So it is with the unhappy or unsatisfactory situation you find yourself in.  You have to be the one to make the first move.  You know, even if you are a Christian and you feel that God is the only One who can solve your situation, you approach Him with your request.
 
Many people long for a more satisfying relationship with their mate, a better job, a bigger house, or a friend who will offer the companionship that you crave, but usually these things do not magically appear.  You must put in some amount of effort.
 
So as you begin 2009 along with the rest of us, why not evaluate what you need to improve your life (and by the way, that might mean a long look in the mirror to see how you sabotage your life).  If you see that you contribute to your situation - and you probably will - why not do something about it?  Probably a decision to begin The Journey toward emotional freedom, relational joy and less stress in your life, would be a great beginning.  Check it out at www.yourLRI.com.  Start your new year with The Journey of a lifetime - the path to a victorious life!

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So, are you ready for the big day? Just a couple more shopping days until your children and the rest of the family and friends will be expecting to see gifts ‘neath the tree, so if you aren't prepared, you'd better get a move on, as my Grandfather would say. I am one of those "interesting" people who do most of my planning and shopping all through the year and keep putting things away for Christmas gifts.  Then of course, I have to remember where I put them!  Inevitably after Christmas, I forget something I have bought way ahead of time and put away in a "safe place."

We are having our holidays in the mountains this year.  We arrived here a few days ago, and have organized ourselves for three weeks in our summer place, which, by the way, will soon be our year-round, permanent place. The tree is up and trimmed (sparsely), and there's a few pine branches and holly scattered here and there.  The guest room is ready, most of the gifts are wrapped (my evening activity) and daytime is spent with work-related endeavors, at least until the guests arrive.

Now the additional activity that awaits is food preparation.  Amazing how each of our daughters remember specific things about Christmas specialties, and we are sure they expect them to be present.  Come to think of it, we do too.  To me, Christmas isn't Christmas without Auntie Helen's Swedish Coffee Bread - it's so yummy!  Ron remembers a special drink that his family made called "Tom and Jerry's."  Back then it was an alcoholic beverage, so we make it with flavoring and eliminate the alcohol.  Surely our girls remember Grandma Scott's fudge (can't be beat!) and her "muffs."  WHAT?   Muffs are simply hamburger-like buns that are used the day after Christmas for leftovers. The fudge - well our friend Donna makes a fudge that's close to Gram's.  They are coming to the mountains for New Years, so we'll have it then. I've told Donna that fudge is the price of admission!

We have a son-in-law who is crazy about Christmas cookies, so that's my Sunday activity.  Another son-in-law is a "snack-freak," so we have to make sure that there's plenty on hand! Christmas Eve will be a family Italian Dinner (a son-in-law's tradition), so I am up to my eyeballs in tomato sauce.  We have a new Cranberry-Orange relish recipe that turns out perfectly and is extremely yummy (a favorite of Ron's) so I'll be pulling out the grinder to grind fresh oranges and cranberries! And our church and our sub-division are having  Holiday Dinners - so must prepare for them!

Lot's of preparation for a wonderful family reunion and holiday feast or two.  The question is, what is this holiday all about anyway? 

This morning I set up our very beautiful nativity set - a gift from a group of precious friends whom we have ministered to.  I got to thinking about the Babe in the little manger.  He's really the one that this is all about.  So I asked myself, just what are you doing for Him?  Surely it's not really his birthday on December 25th, but it is a time we as Christians have set aside to remember that great sacrifice made as the greatest gift possible!  And He asked us to be beneficent (year-round) to those who have no family and friends, and said that in so doing, we give to Him as well. 

So as you gather around the tree and admire the pile of gifts there for family and friends, ask yourself just what you have done for those who are in need - even those you don't know.  As you gather round the table of sumptuous food, will there be someone amongst you who had no family or friends to celebrate with?  Just something else to think about as you prepare.  Only three more days!

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. . . how things have majorly changed in this world?  I mean - everything!
 
Today I went to my grocery store.  They have renovated and NOTHING is where it used to be, so I spent twice as long as I should have buying a few necessities for Thanksgiving.  And as far as prices go . . . well, I used to pay on average $5.00 to 6.00 per bag.  What a joke!  It's double that now.
 
I tried to get an appointment with a physician for a much-needed check-up.  It's been far too long.  Well, good luck!  "We aren't taking new patients!"  Fortunate for me, our daughter works at the hospital where this physician practices, so she intervened so that I can have a mid-December appointment. And there are more specialists than you can count and they all want a piece of you!
 
I recently saw my ophthalmologist.  Our family has two generations of glaucoma sufferers, so I am very faithful to get yearly check-ups and ocular pressure readings!  I spent three hours in his waiting room awaiting my turn!
 
And then there's those pesky Timeshares.  WOW!  We've been trying to get rid of ours forever, with NO results.  Well, we went to a seminar and there's a company that can get your name permanently off the title - and all you have to do is pay $5,000.00 for that to happen!  Of course, you have already paid thousands for the privilege of "owning" this 1/52 piece of property, and now you have to pay to get rid of it!
 
Oh yea, and the house that was worth $260,000.00 two years ago, is now worth $190,000.00.  Not so bad, I guess.  Only a loss of $70,000.00.  I suppose that many have lost much more than that in the stock market, retirement funds, etc.  My parents bought theirs (an eight room house on 2 acres) for $12,500.00 and sold it having made a bundle!  Not us!
 
Having just come through an election, I wonder if you noticed all the horrific things being said about our President. Granted, George W. Bush has made mistakes - what President hasn't?  But not that many years ago,  if you said stuff against the President of the United States like what is currently being said, you'd find yourself locked up for a l.o.n.g time!
 
And eight-year olds killing father and his friend - and talking nonchalantly about the event!  Hard to believe, isn't it?  Mothers killing their kids, husbands and wives killing each other as easily as we kill a fly.
 
I once read a statement that said that there would come a time when all law and order would be gone.  I think we are almost there!  Are we as Americans, as Christians, asleep - Laodicean or just plain don't care anymore?   Guess so.
 
Our world is enduring massive changes, our country is making changes that aren't so comfortable to us. Families are changing - gone are the "Father Knows Best" days. Even personal lives are falling apart.  We are in the middle of it - we know.  One thing remains, and for that I am so grateful.  We still have a God, a Heavenly Father who does not change.  He still loves us, cares and provides, is still in the miracle business and still tolerates all the times we thumb our nose at Him and His generous, benevolent ways. 
 
Oh God, as the world around us seems to be becoming one that it's hard to recognize; to some of us it feels like it's falling apart, let us not fall away from you!

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Have you been planning your Thanksgiving dinner?  I have, amid boxes, family pictures strewn all about my study, daily routines, extra projects, answering the phone, and a ga-zillion projects that need to be done.  But, what else is new?
 
By the time you read this blog, Turkey Day (as people have begun to call it) will be upon you.  What a shame that the purpose for the day has been totally sabotaged, and all we think about now is a menu:  Turkey, Stuffing, Mashed and/or sweet potatoes, some green vegetable, winter squash, cranberry sauce, gravy, and don't dare to forget the pumpkin pie!  But many have dared to forget the real reason for the day - THANKFULNESS!
 
So even though the menu is planned, the guests are invited, the needed groceries are nearly all purchased and even the tablecloth is readied, I want to begin my Thankful List.
 
Daily life - the ability to awake and arise in the morning with not boredom but a myriad of tasks ahead. 

My Sweetheart - for 43 years now, we have been together, and we pray for many more.  I look back over the years, recalling the days of intense struggle, and thank God for what we endured, so that we can see what He has accomplished in us and because of the difficulties, through us.  Each day is a cherished rendezvous with Ron!

Our beautiful daughters - Both of them were miraculously conceived, born and overcame the physical hurdles they experienced as newborns.  Both are wives and mothers and one's a Grandma! They have sweet dispositions and a heart for God.

Precious friends - Some have lasted since childhood, some since college and others from early ministry. All are precious and help to make our lives so enjoyable!

Connection - The most significant is with God, and the others are listed above.  What a thrill to meet heart to heart and mind to mind, and to give and receive love and cherishing. That's an incredible gift!

Vocation - Different than work or a job, a vocation is a calling.  We believe that we were called to do the work we do - it was God preparing us and then commissioning us.  Surely there are hurdles and even opposition to overcome - that's OK!  Nothing worth doing is without challenges.

Provision - Things look different in today's economy than they did a year or two ago.  Money is tight, people are pinching pennies and downsizing - us too.  That's OK!  As we get older, we need less STUFF anyway - less to dust, less to vacuum, less to leave for our children to have to do!  We still have food, clothing and shelter!
 
Well, I've gotten in the groove of thankfulness.  It feels good when you stop to think about it, so why don't you?

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Reader's Responses:
Deborah: - "Well, I work part time for a healthcare facility in the city, and have to get onto a 4 lane highway (as well as cross three lanes of traffic) in order to get onto the route home. However, when my tire blew today, it was on a smaller freeway with only two lanes, and the shoulder was right there. Thank God:)"

HeartsnRoses: - "I am thankful for the growth and work you two have done also. I've just finished the 10-week The Passenger in Santa Rosa. I have learned so much about myself and my family. I have had such great conversations with my husband over the time. I look forward to the holiday with my parents to learn even more.

Thank you for the blessing you have facilitated in my life! Praise the Lord for His continued love and care."

Well, we are in Sun City and the time has come to start parusing through everything we own.  I dread the process, but who knows, I may find stuff I've looked for for a long time!

We are moving from a 2700 square foot home to a 1600 square foot home without a garage.  That's been a place to store everything but the car!  We do have a lovely storage shed, but it serves as a workshop and house for garden/lawn equipment too, so that limits the storage capability.  Long story short - I need to part with a bunch of things!

This morning I was up early and sat down with the diagram of the house in NM.  I measured furniture we have here and placed it on the diagram.  The rest of the items here have to go.  In time we might  be able to afford to put on a 12X24 family room, and then the family room items can join us.  Until then, we'll have to store them, and that's somewhat frightening - can't have mice and bugs!

Some of the items that have to go are ones that I don't want to part with, but I have to look at it this way - it's less to dust and maintain.  Some of the treasures will become hand-me-downs to our daughters - things that were parents' or grandparents' treasures.  Already they each have a few of those.  Some will be sold in a yard sale and others will be given to friends or Community Service.  And  then there's the books.  We have already gone through them once and here we go again!

At first when this dreaded task became a possibility, I shed a few tears.  First of all, to me, moving is a fate worse than death (well not really, but close).  The filing through and deciding is hard.  The bull labor was a bit much when I was 30, but at more than double that age now, UGH!  I am committed to taking it slowly, one room at a time.  I'll give myself a deadline, but not kill my body in the process.

Some of the "stuff" items are mementos of people we loved, those who were precious to us.  But you know, I am slowly coming to realize that I don't have to keep it all - just a few things  We have already lost the precious ones these things represent, and have to just let go of some of the reminders.  And our poor girls will have this task when our days on this planet are over - poor things!  What's most important anyway are the memories stored and the current relationships.  Living in the past is not healthy, but enjoying the memories is.

So, pray for us in these next few weeks, will you?  We'll be up to our ears in boxes, books and paper work.  And then a yard sale!

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We just arrived back at our Phoenix home after a week away.  We have had the most fascinating time!
 
Precious friends, a taste of autumn's glory (no, not in New England, but in the state of Washington) and the cutest and most unusual sight ever at a convent!
 
Being a New Englander, I truly miss the brilliant colors of autumn.  When we lived there, Ron, the girls, and  I, would drive to New Hampshire for a ride along the Kancamagus Highway, where the colors are brilliantly breathtaking.  We would buy some crisp, juicy apples and a hunk of good Vermont Cheddar.  We drove along, apple in one hand, cheese in the other, taking alternating bites and oo-ing and ah-ing at the scenery.  Actually, autumn is the time of the year that I miss my roots most.
 
This year however, God gave me a glimpse of yesteryear in Washington.  Our friends in Walla Walla have a Sumac Tree, and it's colors were neon.  I stood amazed at its beauty! How I wish I had taken the time to take its picture.  I have looked on the web, but no picture there compares with the shape and iridescence of the leaves.

 
The funniest (totally adorable) sight however, was that of a tiny black squirrel, struggling to move a fallen apple to a spot close to a tree.  We sat with our friend in our car, chuckling at the sight of the tiniest creature endeavoring, slowly but successfully, to move an object nearly its sight and weight from point A to point B.
 
The next morning, our friend called me to her second floor office to see a sight I thought impossible to believe.  That tiny squirrel and his companions, no doubt, had moved that apple, and quite a few others, up into the branches of a pine tree just outside her office window.  It was almost as if that little critter was decorating for Christmas, because dotted amongst the pine boughs, were shiny bright red apples!  Each apple had an obvious bite out of it, no doubt part of the method used to get that apple up the tree and strategically placed on a branch. I had to take a picture, so I could share this with you!

 
Preparation for difficult times ahead.  Sure the winter comes and with it cold, and snow and ice. So the squirrels prepare, and we as humans tend to do the same,  Our preparation shouldn't be just about the cold of winter however, but for difficult times that may well come upon us.  Financial difficulties already abound.  Christmas gifts may be few and far between this year!  Families with diminished incomes hunker down for rationed "everything" ahead.  This is the cycle of life. 
 
Hard times come and go, but the wise squirrel and the visionary man plans ahead. The wiser yet, plans and prepares, but does not worry.  My Grandfather used to say over and over that he had "never seen God's children go hungry or His seed begging bread."  It's a Bible text, and "Pa" knew it well.  He had seen the depression, stood in the bread lines, helped Grandma to think up substitutes for sugar, and he had confidence that the one whose eye is on the sparrow, also watches and cares for His children.

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Of late, four candidates for the highest two offices in our country have been vying for your vote.

An unknown, plucked out of the U.S. Senate by the Democratic Party, Senator Barack Obama, claims that he will make "a needed change" in Washington.  With smooth rhetoric he promises to "turn this country around."  His hand-picked Vice-Presidential candidate, a long-time U.S. Senator, Joe Biden, lauds his record of being a Washington insider and understanding how "the system" works in Washington.

A well known senator from Arizona, John McCain, stands firmly on his record of service to the country, his sacrifice and his experience, especially in foreign policy.  His running mate, a soccer-Mom and Governor from Alaska, Sarah Palin, basically unknown until chosen, stands firmly on her history of reform (even in her own party) and down-to-earth awareness of the average person's need - energy and improved financial income.

Both candidates have distanced themselves from our incumbent President, George W. Bush.  Supposedly his popularity has plunged since the 911 crisis.  "Failed economic policies, great indebtedness, poor communication with the people, an unwanted war . . ." are all accusations leveled his way.  Frankly, I feel badly for him!  He gets blamed for what congress does and doesn't do.  Sure he could be a better communicator, but I believe that he has become desperation's scapegoat!

And we are supposed to decide, to choose who will have the reigns of our government.  Hard, isn't it? We are all looking for a "Messiah"- someone who will come along and tell us "the way it is and what can be done about it."  Some of us fear the future, what will become of us if McCain wins, what will happen if Obama gets into the White House?

Quite frankly, I don't know that it will really matter.  What has happened to our country, in my opinion, is that the phrase "In God We Trust" has become a joke.  It may still be on our currency, but for how long?  I am reminded of a Bible text that instructs:

This is what the Lord says:
Cursed is the one who trusts in man,
Who depends on man for his strength
And whose heart turns away from the Lord.
He will be like a bush in the wasteland;
He will not see prosperity when it comes.
He will dwell in the parched places of the desert,
in a salt land where no one lives.
But blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord,
Whose confidence is in Him.
He will be like a tree planted by the water
That sends out its roots by the stream.
It does not fear when heat comes;
Its leaves are always green.
It has no worries in a year of drought
And never fails to bear fruit.
Jeremiah 17: 5-7

I believe, that until the people of this country turn back to God, ignoring the loud voices that decry support from God as weak and useless, this country and its residents will continue to falter.  I am NOT saying here that we are bringing these difficulties upon ourselves or that we deserve them.
Unfortunately however, it has become unpopular to consult with and count on God for our successes.
 
" . . . how often I have longed to gather your children together,
as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but you were not willing, Jesus said."
 
Maybe we would be best to count on and put trust in God again - really the ONLY SOLUTION for the crisis that is upon us and ahead!

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Reader's Responses:
Southern Yankee: AMEN! Oft times, people forget that in God, we trust....

I don't know about you, but I have gotten to the place where I dread the evening news and all of the hosts and commentators.  Gloom and Doom!  If it isn't the warring presidential candidates, it's the economy - and aren't we in a messy state of affairs there?
 
I guess I am just an old codger, but I recall the time when I used to look forward,  in my teen years, to a Presidential Election.  I would sit up at the kitchen table, with our little radio parked there, and a pad of paper and a pencil.  The TV had just become popular for homes, but my family didn't have one when "I like Ike" was the theme chanted on radio.  I loved the election and hearing results.  It was a night that my parents let me stay up late, regardless of school the next morning.
 
Now, I dread the pre-election nastiness between parties and the constant allegations coming out about one candidate or another.  Sara Palin doesn't have enough experience, they say.  McCain is too old and out of touch.  Biden talks too much and is a Washington insider, and Obama has no experience and "shifty" friends.  Blah, blah, blah!  I can't stand the constant haranguing!  Can you?
 
If it isn't the news on the radio and TV that's stressing, it's the state of affairs of hurting people.  One friend had major surgery this week, and fortunately came through it well.  Another has a brain bleed and brain infection and is in ICU with the promise of 2-4 weeks of hospitalization.  She is seeing shapes and colors and is somewhat confused.  A family member has just discovered that she has cancer - in two different parts of her body.  One acquaintance has a gambling problem while another has an addiction that is hurting him in every way. 
 
Tell me this if you can.  How can anyone survive this stress-filled life without the hope of a better life and a close relationship with God now?  He isn't, as some say, a crutch for the weak.  He isn't the last ditch attempt at getting help when you're in a desperate situation.  He is the sustainer of life, the provider of all we need, and a "very present help in trouble."
 
I have a friend who sings a beautiful gospel song.  It speaks of a daughter at the bedside of a dying mother, who in her dying moments stirs and speaks.  "If you could only see what I can see," she says.  "If you only knew how much He loves you."  Lately I've been singing that over and over, silently and not-so-silently.  It helps, when tempted to hear only the gloom and doom on the news.  If we only knew how much God loves us, we would not fear.  Times are bad, people are sad, the world is mad, but God is in control and will de-stress us with His love.

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Reader's Responses:
Deborah: What a wonderful message. I wish more people knew of Jesus' love.

Rose: Amen sister!!!!

Have you ever felt in need of a boost, a "shot in the arm," a pick-me-up?  I was there for the last couple of weeks. 
 
We've had a lot of work ahead of us, and many interruptions along the way.  We were in need of installing a new toilet and a gas-fired heater stove, but no time to do these chores.  We were also in need of getting rid of a sofa and loveseat that had been given to us, and because we will be bringing furniture up to our mountain retreat before Christmas, we needed these items to be gone before the snow falls, making it difficult.
 
And along came the much needed boost.  The workers came to install the stovepipe and just by chance (?) I asked if they knew someone who needed a sofa and loveseat.  One of them said that his son had just moved into an apartment, and needed just that!  The son is a plumber, and he suggested that in exchange, the son would install our already-purchased new toilet.  Now there's a shot in the arm for you!
 
Once the stove and pipe were in, we hated the look of the black stovepipe, and decided to paint it with special stovepipe paint.  We got a gallon of the same color as the pipe would be, and I painted the wall behind the pipe, so that the pipe blends in rather than sticking out like a sore thumb.  Then I took down the drapes and painted another wall, and two small ones.  WOW!  What a pleasant change.
 
We rearranged the meager furniture we had left until we return in December, dusted and I even re-covered a chair from 9 to midnight last night, and it really looks great in the room.
 
Now, as I sit to write this blog, I find a new e-mail from a friend.  What she sent was hilarious, and I had a good laugh and shared it with Ron.  Another boost!
 
Small things like painting a wall, re-arranging furniture, cleaning a window or two, getting a funny e-mail or fixing a truly great meal, these are the pleasant things that perk up a day, that put a smile on your face, that brighten the darkness.
 
But the greatest brightness can be found in your relationships with your spouse, your children, your friends, and with God. So often I have spent time reading in the Bible and there found just the words I needed at the time to cheer, to encourage, to lift me up.  Sometimes it's an e-card from Ron that gives me a boost.  Sometimes it's a phone call from a dear friend or someone from whom I haven't heard in a long time.
 
I have a little Balsam pillow.  It was given to me by a dear friend, and I love to sniff it, but I also found out that the word "Balm" is taken from the word Balsam.  Balm is a healing, and so is balsam.  Order a pillow and sniff once in a while.  It's a great pick-me-up!
 
So think of it like this:  If you need a pick-me-up, consider painting a wall, re-arranging furniture (careful now) or even buying yourself a few flowers.  And while you're at it, split the bouquet of those flowers with someone you care for,  because studies have shown that fragrance affects the neuronal connections in the brain.  Odors can rejuvenate, calm and uplift, so choose flowers and natural fragrances that will lift your spirits or maybe lavender to relax and calm you.  Then sit in your newly arranged favorite chair with a good book or God's word, drink a cuppa' tea and feel blessed!

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Bound for Spokane, Washington to teach a seminar, we were in the boarding process of our flight.  Our Captain was walking just ahead of us on the skyway.  As is typical of Ron, who likes to create a little bit of joy for everyone, he started up a conversation, joking with the pilot.

"They told me at the gate, Ron quipped, "that you had some French fries you would share with me."

"Yes, Sir, they're up front (in the cockpit) but they aren't French fries really.  They are chunky potatoes." the pilot replied.

"Oh well," Ron said.  "I was hoping for French fries." 

Of course Ron was joking, and the Captain knew it.

"Sorry!" the Captain called over his shoulder.

On this flight, Ron and I had been bumped u p to first class -.one of the benefits of frequent flying - and were seated in row one.  After we were settled, the flight attendant approached Ron with a small plate of chunky potatoes, covered in plastic wrap and accompanied by a fork.  She handed the plate to Ron, and said, "Compliments of the Captain!  I didn't know it was this easy, but next time ask for something bigger, like cash!"

We are reminded that the Good Book instructs us to "ask and you shall receive."  We should think about this more often. Most of us don't ask of God as much as we could, confidently expecting that He will provide us with what we need, in His time.  Notice the word - NEED.

Sometimes we ask for wants because we think that a newer car or a bigger TV will make us feel better. However, our WANTS aren't necessarily in our best interest.  Since God is love He will do for us what is in our best interest - that's what love does for others.

When what we ask lines up with what God knows would benefit us physically, emotionally or spiritually, our Lord is more anxious to give than we are to receive!  And the gift will come exactly on time!

So.o.o.   do feel free to ask - not necessarily for a plate of potatoes, but what will ultimately be for your good.  The Captain of our lives will give you far above what you could ask or think!

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Autumn leave turning, crimson and gold
Summer's last roses gently unfold.

This morning I sit with my laptop on my lap, covered with a cuddly throw, and eating a bowl of my favorite summer cereal with fresh strawberries, blueberries, pineapple and strawberry yogurt.  I savor the flavorful seasonal fruit, knowing that soon, very soon, this delightful breakfast will be replaced by a warmer, winter version - oatmeal with raisins, dried cranberries and pecans.  We've become addicted to this delectable and refreshing breakfast, yet I know that when the switch is made to oatmeal with winter fruits, we'll love that too.

This morning at seven o'clock, there was a light frost on the windshield, and the thermometer read 41 degrees.  Quite nippy, and I wouldn't trade these high-blue-sky chilly mornings, even for the Caribbean!  The deciduous trees are beginning to turn - not the brilliant red and orange of the New England autumn, but an iridescent yellow that is tucked among the deep green of tall pines and pinions.

Today I must do laundry in between writing and other household chores, but I'll tell you for sure - I'd rather be baking bread and making soup.  For days I had been hankering for a piece of good pumpkin pie, and we were on a trip.  Even the restaurants were "all out of the pumpkin pie", so I guess others had been noticing the coming of autumn and the tastes that go with the changing seasons. So I baked one when we got home, and with guests and us, it quickly disappeared!

I have come to realize that it's not just the seasons that change, but also our thinking and our actions.

I have a dream to go to England again - would love to stay for a year and just write, but I know that's really just a pipedream. But you know what?  Part of me has changed with the years so that I question if I want to make that long of a flight!  Do I want to have to do the packing that such a year-long odyssey would require?

I would love to ride a bike through our little subdivision, taking in the sights and sounds of nature, but in addition to the fact that I've never been good at riding a bike, I've had a knee replacement and am not as agile as I was. Time and circumstances have made changes.

Years ago, I knew that I had to make another sort of change.  I knew that for the sake of my happiness and that of Ron, I would have to do whatever was necessary to get past my old wounds. I decided to jump in with both feet, and have made many changes that have resulted in a greatly improved life.  The switch from self-centeredness to being other-centered was not and is not easy, but OH THE BENEFITS!

So as the season changes into brilliant colors and refreshing days, perhaps you too need to commit to a brighter, refreshing life.  While you alter your diet to accommodate what's available at the market, you might consider altering your thoughts and feelings to connect more intimately with others and with God.

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Reader's Responses:
Joyce: Thank you for sharing your thoughts with us! Very inspiring and what would we do if everything remained the same and there was no change? Isn't God such a masterful creator? I welcome each and every season with renewed hope! Bless you and yours!

Dori: That was beautiful and needful at the same time! Old wounds are sometime very difficult to get over but, if we intend to finish this race victoriously then we must let go of them to enable ourselves to receive God's healing.
God bless you for your honesty!

Christian Commando: Well, at first...I thought,"Oh, no...not another political blog!" lol But, I was pleasantly surprised and appreciate the message. I posted a bulletin, "A KINDER WORLD", along this same vein, recently.
This post of yours is certainly a welcome "change"!

I wish that I had the words to describe the beauty of this mountain top valley!  Right now, the abundant rain has turned what normally is a bit green / brown this time of year, into a brilliant green!

All of our neighbors are talking about the look of "our" valley, and wishing that it would stay this way all the time.  Believe it or not, even though it is gorgeous, I disagree with it remaining as it is year round!

Perhaps it's because I was born and raised in New England and just LOVE the change of seasons.  I can remember summers, when my best friend, Gail, and I used to play in a field behind her house, where, incidentally, we were chased by bulls, and just made it over the fence literally by the seat of our pants.  We also had a brook with a wide place and crystal clear running water, probably about three feet deep, where we went skinny-dippin'!  Sh.h.h!

The autumn was about raking leaves, romping in them, taking a drive to New Hampshire and Vermont for the brilliant fall colors and crisp apples and sharp cheddar cheese.  WOW!  Wish I could go now - but it's still summer.

Winter was beautiful!  Clean white snowy days especially designed for making homemade soup and yummy bread!  Shoveling until you finally dropped in the stuff might have been exhausting, but fun too.  I remember when our girls were young, and we had a horse named Hezekiah.  One morning we awakened to four feet of the beautiful stuff.  We needed milk for breakfast and the closest store was a mile away.  The roads weren't plowed, but finally after much coaxing, we let the girls saddle Hezekiah and take the country road to the corner market.  The horse was so proud that he could do what a car couldn't, and the girls were hysterically happy!

Spring time was rebirth, and we anxiously waited for the crocus and then the daffodils to peek through the scant remainder of snow for bright yellow and purple promises of the summer blooms to come.  Our pink dogwood in the side yard would bud and bloom, and it was certainly the time of year to visit my hideaway waterfall for its abundant volume of snow-melted water and booming sound as it crashed over the rocks.  Gail and I would dip our feet in the frigid torrent, loving every freezing second!

Now those are childhood memories - fabulous ones, but here in the four seasons we have similar.  Summertime brings the beautiful verdant valley, warm days and cool nights. Picnics of burgers, potato salad and watermelon are still fun - now however they are with our precious grandchildren.  In the evening, mommy, daddy and baby deer come down into the valley for a feast of that green stuff.  Occasionally we even see an elk or two.

Autumn dots the mountain evergreens with brilliant yellow quaking aspen.  The apples are here, but we have to import the cheese, and that's OK. 

Winter - well there's nothing like the sight of our 12,003 foot Sierra Blanca covered in a blanket of white - of course the blanket gets to be about 165 inches thick up there.  Where we are at 7,000 feet, we can get as much as a couple of feet, but bright blue sky days and warming sun, melt it quickly.  Why at ten in the morning, our front door knob is untouchable from the heat of the sun! 

Spring brings the thaw.  The creeks widen and deepen, buds appear everywhere, and the promise of summer fun is just around the corner.

All that having been said - give me the four seasons - periods of time to look forward to God's beautiful changes. Somehow it reminds me of the changes that we can choose to make in our own lives - changes from the dark winters of anger or depression to the sun of summer joy, from fall's promise of beauty dying or resting for the winter, to the joy of hope being resurrected in the spring.

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Reader's Responses:
Deborah: How wonderful to speak of hope amidst dark days, and the promise of summertime! And I think it's kind of neat that Hezekiah could be ridden to the country store after the blizzard. Here in CT we had the blizzard of '94 which covered the region with about three or four feet of snow, but lately the New England weather has been even more unpredictable. Snow one day, then it melts the next. Hey, thanks for the post.

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!

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Reader's Responses:
SeallyLo: Best of Luck with Maddie...Cody sends his well wishes too. I know the feeling of humungous vet bills, and needless to say, we always find a way to pay them. Our pooches exist not merely as "pets", but as our kids! They are there for you in good times and bad times, and no matter what you say or do, they always are there to greet you at the door. We will say some extra pooch prayers for a speedy recovery. :)

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.

Reader's Responses:
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.

Deborah: It's a reminiscing blog. Congratulations on being a great-grandparent. If there's more to the family, there's more love to go around. As for massages, I swear by them and will be booking one myself, after moving next week. :) Already rented the U-haul and hoping for a good experience.

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.

Reader's Responses:
Judy: I'm laughing, but not lauging, because I do the same thing. I'm smiling not because I have a great sense of humor through your pain. You see, I have a bad back...I ride a four wheel scooter to get me places because I have scoliosis and I still don't learn nor accept my limitations. I should have someone to come in and clean my house, but I don't. I shouldn't lift my 28 lb dog into the bathtub, but I do. The result, I'm flat on my back for the rest of the day. My mind just doesn't want to adjust to my body. I think I can still do all these things. Growing up is hard to do...Everytime I even mop the floor or vacuum, picking Mikey up and putting him in the bathtub....I can't even stand by the sink for more than 10 minutes before my lower back acts up and starts traveling up to my neck. But I still do it...

A 40 lb bag of potting soil would destroy me...I can just imagine the pain you are feeling. ouch!!!!!! I pray that you get better soon. God bless you my friend. xoxoxoxo

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!

Reader's Responses:
Bryon: Enjoyed the blog and I can identify with it in several ways. I can apply it to how my life is right now, waiting on God and trying to claim His promises and follow His leading. Also, I have friends back in Northern California where they say the smoke has been so thick they could hardly see the drive! Please keep them and the firefighters in your prayers as I'm doing along with the flood victims in the central US. God bless.

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!

Reader's Responses:
Cathy: I LOVE my massage therapist!!! She does an awesome job and I feel wonderful afterwards! Thanks for sharing...i want to go get one now. :) lol.

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!

Reader's Responses:
Mike: That's soooo true. I am passionate about my love for the Trinity through song, ministry, and daily life! When someone tells me that a certain tune on the piano or a certain song uplifted their spirit, my heart begins to cry, "Thank you Jesus!" Jesus uses music to heal our hearts and I LOVE it!!!!

Deborah: I'm passionate about God! I wish that more people knew that He loves them. Maybe there is something I can do about that. :) Of course there is!!!

Christine: I love travel. I want to be able to help people. I like flowers. I wish I could do something that will help people that live in disadvantaged countries and neighborhoods. 

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.

The title of this blog is a familiar song – especially at this time of the year, and as grandparents, Ron and I are experiencing “our girls“ for 12 days - the twelve days of Christmas?  Well, not quite but at least between Christmas and Thanksgiving.  Mom and Dad have gone on a Caribbean cruise to celebrate their 15th wedding anniversary and the honeymoon they never had.

It began with a BANG on Thanksgiving night, with snow predicted and a three hour ride ahead of our daughter and her husband, to get to the airport.  So we sent them off early and took the girls home after the celebratory big dinner.  Considering the excitement, bedtime was a breeze that night.

The snow had indeed fallen and the outside world was glistening in the morning sun on Friday. After breakfast, we sat with the girls to explain the daily routine and responsibility chart we had made as well as the “duty list” that would pay for the supplies to make Christmas gifts for family and friends. Having stars line up after their chores seemed to please the girls and they jumped in with great enthusiasm. But alas, the vacuum cleaner belt broke, and there were none to be found in our village - a trip for another day. Chores accomplished (except for the vacuuming), we went off to Smoky Bear Café’ for lunch – a treat for the girls.

The REAL fun started on Saturday when we awakened to another new snowfall – 4-5 inches.  We dressed (them in their new Holiday Dresses) because we were going off to church and were going to sing special music (which we had practiced incessantly on Friday).  Arriving at the tiny country church, we discovered a locked door and one other unfamiliar car in the parking lot-guests from California.  But alas, the church was locked,no one showed up, so we returned home (after waiting 20 minutes) changed our clothes, and ate leftovers. 

Saturday night the real fun escalated.  Our eight year old swallowed a plastic toothpick!  YUP!  Off to the hospital in town – 15 miles away.  They know her well at the hospital – she’s accident prone and her Mom works there!  X-ray revealed nothing.  A laryngoscope exam later suggested that the pointed white 3” plastic had made its way to her stomach, and we were assured by the doctor that it would pass through her intestine and make its way to the sewer, but . . .  then they give you all the negative possibilities, which, nurse me, had already been contemplating.  Sent home with a “hat” (insert for the toilet) and a supply of rubber gloves, and tongue blades, we returned home (anticipating and praying for a safe expulsion of the toothpick with a plastic heart on one end of it.)

Sunday, we worked on Christmas gifts after a trip to a neighboring town for supplies.  The oatmeal we had enjoyed at breakfast turned out to be the catalyst we needed to send the toothpick (with a great sigh of relief and great excitement) on to the sewer system.  Thank you God!

Monday was school!  Ron and I trotted off to that town again because the craft store was closed on Sunday – AND – we had sprung a leak under the kitchen sink and needed parts and a vacuum cleaner belt!  We got our supplies and returned home to find the house void of electricity – no, wait a minute, there it is – WHAT?  It’s gone again!  And so it was until 6 pm when the electric company workmen decided it was time to go home for the day.  Yuh, electricity to finish dinner (preparation of which had been interrupted at least eight times) and fix the sink, and get homework done, and work on crafts and get the girls to bed by 9.  And of course, there were chores to be done somehow in that time frame.

Oh yes, I forgot.  We had to make another trip (15 miles) to pick up granddaughter number one because her swim team meets after school on Monday and Wednesday.  This was however, a time of excellent conversation with the girls.  They are opening up with their thoughts, fears, and concerns and that’s a good thing!  One of the reasons that children need grandmas and grandpas!

It’s Tuesday morning and I am still in my robe at 8:30 am, enjoying quiet and the absence of demands.  The girls are in school and I have eight hours to endeavor to get caught up, remembering to leave the chore list items undone until the yellow bus brakes squeak at our door.  I’ll let cha’ know how it goes – LATER!

Plymouth, Massachusetts – 1620.  The pilgrims, men and women searching for religious freedom, land on the soil of America.  Weary, worn and hungry, they endeavor to settle, to make a home and begin life anew in the New World.  Their new friends, the Indians, introduce them to unusual food and plan a celebration to give thanks for survival – and to be sure, that’s about all they had - their lives.  Many had died from exhaustion and food deprivation, and those who did endure, were grateful.

I picture the scene, a long table made from rough planks, and food cooked in open kettles and in open fire pits.  Were there really turkeys, and did pumpkin pie exist then?  I really don’t know, but I do know that they have become symbolic of the holiday we celebrate here in America on the fourth Thursday of November, each year.
                                      
Somehow, Thanksgiving has become synonymous with food and family gatherings.  We’re told that it’s the busiest travel holiday of the year.  Do you suppose it’s because it’s always on a Thursday, and folks take off a long week-end following?
                               
Family feasts, football, romping in the fallen leaves of autumn, long walks producing rosy cheeks on children in the north country, attending football games wrapped in cozy blankets, sipping hot chocolate with marshmallow fluff, TV’s blaring the Thanksgiving Day parade from New York City, and later, after the big dinner, ladies clean up and the men watch football on TV.  When I was a kid, once in a while my Dad would take me to a football game between two local rival high school teams.  I froze, but was thrilled to attend a live game and to be with him doing something fun!

Most of us aren’t just thankful to be scrimping by or just surviving anymore.  We do have many things for which to be thankful, and all too often, take them for granted! 

How do you celebrate the Thanksgiving Holiday?  Do you reach out to someone who is barely surviving or wouldn’t survive without the meal you help to fix or serve?  Do you spend time on that day, sitting around the table with family and friends and sharing what you’re thankful for?  Do you join together with your loved ones to be a blessing to someone who could use a few blessings?  Do you personally thank people for what they have done or are doing for you?

Let’s hear your ideas – your Thanksgiving activities – the ways you bless others.  We could have quite a list if you take just a few seconds and give us your tradition for benefiting someone else.

Looking forward to hearing from you! We’ll post your entries – PROMISE!


       

To be sure, where we are, the frost is on the pumpkin – early in the morning that is.  Squirrels scurry about burying their treasures for the snowy days of winter.  The deer are everywhere!  So are the elk.  They are so smart!  It’s hunting season here and they know enough to get out of the deep woods and come down to where people are to avoid being shot with an arrow or a bullet.  Unfortunately, we end up seeing far too many, dead in the road at this time of year, but I guess they’d rather take their chances with automobiles than with weapons people carry.

We are doing what the animals do.  The barbeque is being cleaned and stored in the shed. The grass is being cut for the last time, and thoroughly raked.  All of the outside chairs are being stacked and stored.  Even our well-loved “Kawasaki Mule” is heading to a warmer climate for the winter.  I am “enduring” the arduous task of deciding what kitchen equipment, clothes, office “stuff” etc., has to go back to Arizona’s warmer winters.

These are simply tasks to be done with things, but when it comes to the coldness of others, it is another chore entirely!  People can be very distant and self-absorbed.  Unkind and thoughtless words often come like a bullet through the heart or like buckshot, leaving no spot in us unaffected.  Unlike the deer, moving our location will not prevent us from being shot, but moving our mindset would allow us to deflect the bullets or survive the thoughtlessness of others. 

What does that mean?  When our beginning years have been fraught with emotional abuse, when we heard many put-downs and barbs sent our way, we tend to become sensitive to every word we hear from others, if we are sensitive people.  Others who are less sensitive are calloused to these heartless remarks, and often become “hunters” themselves, shooting the merciless words they heard at others.

The only way to prepare for the coldness of others is to:
     •Take a long look at yourself and your beginnings.
     • Acknowledge the truth about what was.
     • Write about your early pain.
     • Share what you’ve written with spouse, friend, counselor or
        pastor.
     • Have a friend take note of the bullets you send out, and call
       you on it.
     • Practice honest compliments, kind words.  It’ll become a habit.
     • Say to one who sent a bullet, “Ouch!  That hurt.  Why would
        you say that to me?” or “That was hurtful.  Did you mean it
        to be?”

Now then, get out your winter coat, boots, hats and mittens and at least be physically warm as you endeavor to deflect the coldness of others.  We are doing the same.

The love of a parent for a child is, in most cases, boundless.  Oh, you do read in the papers or see on the evening news, cases of parents who lock their children in cages, beat them, sexually abuse them, etc.  Many of you have no doubt read about David Pelzer, who has authored several books about his childhood of abuse by his mother primarily, and by his father’s neglect.  Most parents do not conceive a child and then spend the nine months of gestation conjuring up ways to hurt that child.  But hurt to our children by us as parents, happens anyway, just by us being ourselves, and passing on to them what we received from our parents.

If you are a parent, chances are good that you have been hurt by your children.  In their way, they may be “paying you back” for their negative childhood experiences.  It’s quite possible that they aren’t inflicting pain upon you intentionally, but that their sub-conscious mind is being thoughtless, neglectful or punishing you unintentionally.

And still you, as a parent, continue on loving that child.  The reason that what they do hurts so much is that you do care and love deeply.  What parent doesn’t long for an open, honest, loving and enjoyable relationship with their child?  When it isn’t that way, you spend hours asking yourself what pain you inflicted on them that they are retaliating for now. 

God gave each person a heart – an organ that pumps around life-giving blood throughout the body – AND, responds to emotions.  An old saying, “He or she died of a broken heart” is very true in many cases today.  Our blood pumper responds to what’s going on around us.  It aches, it beats fast, it gets out of rhythm or it feels like it’s beating its way out of your chest.  And the heart loves.  The brain may use logic to argue why we should stop loving, but our heart fights back much more powerfully (actually 60 times more powerfully) than our brain.  So the heart continues to love.

The truth was told in an old story, written many years ago and made into a Hollywood movie.  It was spoken by the rusted Tin Man in The Wizard of OZ.   “Now I know I have a heart’” he said, “because it’s breaking”

While you might be saddened by the behaviors of your child, your spouse or your friend, be assured, that when you feel your heart is breaking, at least you know you have one.  Your heart was designed to love, so breaking or not, keep on using it to love!

In Fred Epstein’s book, "If I Get to Five", he states:

“To the degree that we can continue to access those childhood strengths as adults, we’ll be more resilient, more successful and more fulfilled.”

A good statement, I thought, so I began to ponder its meaning to me – and to those I know well.  Rather than look at my deficits, I should examine myself to see what strengths I possessed back when I was four or five – what traits of character I had then that I still have and can use to benefit others and myself.

I was adventurous, curious, a “want to know” kind of girl.  And you know what?  I still am!  I want to know what makes me tick, and I want to know about others too.  I am interested in the lives of others, and want to know how I can benefit them so that they feel successful and filled with joy.

But . . . one can take that strength to an extreme, and then it becomes harmful.  There is something about my personality type – that “forever a nurse” in me – that wants to fix people who are hurting.  But I have come to realize that not everyone wants to be helped or fixed.  I sometimes still am learning that lesson, usually the hard way.

The truth is however, found in Epstein’s statement.  Being interested in people has been my joy and then my career since I was that little four year old who was friendly with everyone in my neighborhood.  Even “Cop Kelly” who walked by our house every morning in his uniform on his way to his daily “beat,” was my friend.

You know, I also remember that my parents were concerned about my interest in people and my friendliness, and wanted me to curb it.  It’s been the case all through my life that someone has wanted me to stop being who God made me to be.  Yet I know that when I am true to my “calling”, my strength, I feel most successful, most fulfilled.

How about you?  Can you identify a strength that you had in childhood that has carried throughout your life?  What is it?  We at Life Renewal would love to hear from you!  Write in to LRI Connect! 

See, I’m being concerned about people, again.  Oh well!

Our daughter was about to start first grade.  She was excited and so were we, so our preparations began in earnest well in advance of the start date.  On our agenda, in addition to the new school clothes, was a visit to our family pediatrician for a physical exam.

The exam nearly over, the doctor took her to the eye chart.  There, one of a parent’s worst nightmares came true.  Naomi could only read the huge E at the top of the chart!  Immediately, the pediatrician made an appointment with an ophthalmologist, and we saw her that afternoon.  What we learned was frightening indeed, so we were sent on to Massachusetts Eye and Ear, a world famous clinic.

 There, pictures were taken of Naomi’s retina, and we spent half a day in tests.  Dr, Burson told Ron and I that our daughter was legally blind and would be totally blind within a year – Rubella Retinopathy was the cause, he said.  That doctor referred us back to our ophthalmologist, who wasn’t yet satisfied, even though the slides of Naomi’s retinas accompanied her records.  We were sent back to Massachusetts Eye and Ear to the world’s leading retina specialist.  After a full day of testing, we were ushered into the physician’s office.  One physician read aloud the results of her day’s tests while the other looked into her eyes with the ophthalmoscope. 

Suddenly, the physician swung around on his chair.  “Mom and Dad,” he exclaimed, “take your girl home.  There’s nothing wrong with her eyes and there never will be unless she has some sort of accident.” 

“But doctor,” we questioned, “How is this possible?  There are pictures of her retina that show rubella retinopathy.  We don’t understand!”

“Yes,” he replied. “I have the pictures.  Last week there were spots on her retina.  Today there are none.  You believe in prayer, don’t you?”

Of course we believed in prayer, and what we had just witnessed was a miracle. God still is in the miracle business.  We have seen several miracles done for that daughter, and we count on them to continue today.

Believing in miracles helps us to recognize them when they are dropped in our laps, as they often are.  Our disbelief prevents us from seeing them and being thankful to the One who so generously sends them our way.  

Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgment that something else is more important than fear.
                                                                          Ambrose Redmoon

Have you ever been scared to death?  I have!  It was about three and a half years ago, when an MRI revealed that I had a big problem in my neck – a problem that required a surgical intervention to fix it. 

Being a nurse can certainly have its advantages and it can also be detrimental, in that you picture the worst.  In my case, I was mortified of the anesthesia, and having a doctor working so closely to my spine was daunting at best!  However, neglecting to have the surgery was a surefire way to become paralyzed and remain in severe pain. So…. it was off to the hospital for me.

My surgeon lives about a fourteen hour drive from our home, so we set off in the car on this adventure.  About halfway to our destination, I burst into tears and shared with Ron how frightened I was.  I said that I was afraid that if the surgery didn’t do me in, my fear would.

Now, I really had no choice but to face the thing I feared, but I didn’t have to face it alone.  I suggested to Ron that perhaps he and my surgeon, a wonderful Christian man and the local pastor there, would pray together for me – a special service called an anointing.  Ron agreed that it was a good idea.

The night before surgery, I met at the church with the three men, and the anointing took place.  They prayed that my fear would be relieved and that the surgery would be successful.  The next morning, as I was wheeled to the operating room, I sang.  I sang a hymn that I had learned as a child.  As the anesthetist was starting to put me to sleep, I continued singing, quietly to myself.  What a way to go to sleep!

I faced my fear – the surgery and the anesthesia, but I took along with me the assurance, the fortitude that I had obtained the night before.  I learned that day that I can face most anything as long as I am not alone.

How do you face your fears – or do you?  What gives you the daring to look fear in the eye, and move forward anyway?  Sure would love to hear from you!  We’ll post some of your responses on the website.

Oh, by the way, the five hour operation was a big success!
 

Some folk are scheduled to the max!  I don’t mean that they are extremely busy, but that they have a day and time for every activity in which they engage.  Monday supper is something chicken, Tuesday its beef, Wednesday is spaghetti day, Thursday is soup and salad, Friday . . .  well, you get the point. 

Are you so scheduled that you can’t throw in a wash on Tuesday, or refuse to shop for groceries any time other than Thursday evening?  Do you never stay out past nine o’clock during the week, or because you must have your eight hours of beauty sleep and be to work by 8 am, you avoid socializing during the week?

Living in the moment, being spontaneous offers opportunities that you might never have unless you break free of your routine.  To be sure, having a certain amount of routine can be valuable, but being married to that rigid routine, negates many experiences that spontaneity can offer.

Children have the ability to enjoy every moment; to respond positively to invitations regardless of the “what if’s.”  Maybe that’s one of the reasons that the Bible tells us that we should be like children – open, accepting, free and untied to a set-in-cement routine.

In his book, If I Get to Five, Frank Epstein, M.D. states:

“Adults tend to learn a different lesson as we grow older – that our identity is gradually hardening into a form-fitting shell that defines who we are, what we believe, and what we can accomplish.  And that’s the trap we all have to avoid, because once we believe we’re as grown up as we’ll ever get, it’s Game Over.”

One little boy in Dr. Epstein’s book had endured two arduous spinal operations and was scheduled for a third.  This time, he was scared to death.  He had begged his mother to buy him a rather pricey Batman costume, which she was previously reluctant to do.  The morning of his surgery, they left their house early, went by the costume shop and she bought the Batman outfit for her son.

In the hospital’s parking lot, they hid behind their car and he changed into the costume.  With renewed courage, he marched in to the hospital and toward the operating room, having left his fear behind.  As he passed through the corridors, nurses, doctors and patients called out, “Hey Batman!”  Those moments of spontaneity gave him the fortitude to face surgery number three bravely.

Sometimes you just have to step out of the ordinary, the routine, the safe or the expected, become someone different than the usual, and live life to the fullest, in the moment.  Try it!

While we have been enjoying the summer in the cool, clear, mountain air at our retreat, we have also been doing a lot of landscaping, or I should say our friends have with the help of their excavator.  Our property is looking so much better now, that it’s become quite inspiring.  My friend Donna and I were so inspired, that we decided to take the Kawasaki “Mule” into the forest to see if we could dig out a few tiny trees to use around our property.  We had seen so many little cuties, so armed with a shovel and a hand spade, her Mini-Schnauzer, Toby, and our Maddie, we headed for the woods.

We schmoozed around until we found a little fir, about a foot tall.  “This will be easy,” we told each other, as we dismounted and grabbed our tools.  But we were in for quite a surprise! 

We couldn’t seem to get to the soil for all of the rocks surrounding that spindly tree trunk.  The two of us, bent in half, struggled and struggled for about twenty minutes, and kept telling ourselves that we were crazy to pursue.  But it’s like this, we were both focused, big time, on getting that little tree.  So we persevered until finally we were able to free the roots from the rocks to which it had clung so tightly. 

We are so proud that we succeeded, and will plant that little stubborn character some place special on the property, and each time we see it and watch it grow, we’ll recall the lesson we learned from that tree.

It may be tough to grow in stony ground, to work your way through the trials and hard experiences of life, but that enables you to build strength – physical strength and strength of character.

When the destructive experiences come, those that would destroy you, you will have the strength to hold fast, to not become discouraged or dislodged from your position.  Your roots can grow very deep into the nourishing soil of God’s love and grace.

Someone once said that the trials we endure are workmen to help us to perfect our character.  Just yesterday, I told that to a friend who has endured a concentration of agony lately.  Her husband had a fall while they were on a foreign vacation – a fall that nearly took his life due to multiple internal injuries. Weeks later on a trip to see family, she had a fall, and broke a vertebra in her back.  Her husband’s blood pressure remains difficult to control since his fall, and just last night, his temperature escalated. Next morning, it was discovered that he has an impacted and infected wisdom tooth that has to come out.  And she faces still the possibility of serious back surgery or body cast. Today we learned that in addition to everything else going on, her hubby has Shingles, as well.  It’s as if a black cloud has parked above their heads with no intention of moving on out!

Trials are the rocks through which we must grow.  They do build strength and endurance, and if you are anything like trees, you surely will grow strong and be able to endure such things as the pull and tug caused by two foolish women endeavoring to transplant you.  Unlike the tree, you will not be moved!

I remember it well.  I had just returned from work in my pantsuit nurse's uniform.  Our visiting friends had prepared a wonderful supper, and we were just waiting for the potatoes to finish cooking.  Suddenly I heard a familiar sound from the kitchen - it sounded like the potatoes were boiling over.  I raced to the kitchen, but was surprised to see that the potatoes were cooking in my pressure cooker, the gauge was not on the top, nor were the handles locked.  Flames shot up around the pot from the potato water on the electric burner.  What to do?
 
I made a quick decision.  The baking soda was in the cupboard behind the flames, as was the knob to turn off the stove.  So I reached for the handles and ever-so-gently slid the pot off the burner.  But as I got it to the center of the stove, the top blew off, and hot potato water and cooked potatoes landed on me - both hands, my tummy and both thighs.  Of course, I let out a war hoop!  Ron ran to the bathroom and turned on cold water in the shower, I stripped, getting off those nylon stockings and pants, and headed for the shower.  I stood there under the frigid water and watched the skin roll off my body.  The pain was beyond anything I had ever experienced.
 
We wrapped me in a clean sheet and headed for the emergency room where the doctor I worked for and our family doctor awaited our arrival.  After a whole lot of pain medication and an IV inserted, the three hour process of debreedment began.  And every morning for a week, that process was repeated.  My dear visiting friend, who HATES the sight of blood and most medical stuff, was with me for the morning ordeal every day.  She held my hand, handed things to the doctor, and was a great nurse and comfort to me. 
 
Holding someones hand in times of distress or pain, is a great blessing.  Poor Ron, was given the daunting task of putting silver nitrate on the open wounds after that first week.  That was for the purpose of creating a scab, under which the skin could rebuild itself, leaving me with absolutely no scars.  Not only did he hold my hand, but he cried along with me as he applied the medication.  It burned as bad or worse than the original burn!
 
What a comfort and an assurance to have special someones who can hold our hand, share our pain or sorrow, give us chicken soup, or rub our feet or aching back in our times of need.  Physical touch is healing in itself, but when there is love behind it, the touch is even more beneficial.  Actually, touch send out endorphins

Do you have a special someone who holds your hand when you are in need?  If you don't, seek out a friend or a family member who is happy to do that for you.  And by the way, you can be that hand to hold for someone else too!

I read a wonderful book this past week.  As a matter of fact, I read it in two days!  It was one of those books that just talks to you from it's shelf.  I found it, believe it or not, in a discount store. "Buy that book," I kept hearing in my ear. So I picked it up and put it back three times, and finally listened to the voice in my head.
 
The title of the book is: If I Get to Five - What Children Can Teach Us About Courage and Character.  It was written by Dr. Fred Epstein, a neurologist and neurosurgeon. It tells of his life as a pediatric neurosurgeon at New York University's Hospital and now at Beth Israel Hospital in Manhattan.  Throughout his career, Dr. Epstein has pioneered new techniques for excizing brain and spinal chord tumors, and has operated on children of all ages and in all stages of disease; children from all corners of the globe.  When other physicians would say, "Take your child home to die.  There is nothing we can do for him,"  Dr. Epstein, disagreeing with the prognosis, has performed life-saving procedures successfully.
 
"We tend to think of children as fragile, little people," says Dr. Fred Epstein.  "To me, they're giants."  If I Get to Five is a tribute to the hidden strengths of childhood and the unstoppable life force that dwells within each of us.
 
Five years ago, Dr. Epstein suffered a traumatic brain injury and faced a daunting rehabilitation.  He says that the advice of the children he'd saved helped illuminate his own path to recovery.  Six of the lessons he had learned from the children he has cared for are the titles of the chapters.  They are:

• Hold Someone's Hand
• Live in the Moment
• Face Your Fears
• Believe in Miracles
• Play to Your Strengths
• Love Without Boundaries

The lessons he learned from the children sound like great mottos to me!  Perhaps in future blogs we'll look at them, one by one.  Until then, see if you can find this good book.  You'll cry a bit, laugh a bit, and be inspired a whole lot!  It's a "Good for the Soul" book, in my opinion.
 
So fix a cuppa' tea and curl up with an uplifting, awe-inspiring book!  You'll be glad you did.

Tonight on the television I watched a little girl, probably about seven or eight years old, running through grassy fields and finding enjoyment in the butterflies, wild flowers and her pet dog.  Her long braids flew in the breeze and her carefree laughter and joy was contagious.

What a contrast to most children today, I thought.  Multiple electronic gadgets occupy even sunny summer days.  Booming music heard through earphones and earplugs blocks out the sounds of nature - singing birds, chirping peep frogs and babbling brooks.  Cell phones are set on vibrate and occupy jean pockets, so teens won’t miss a call.  Family meals are sacrificed for TV shows.  Picnics with friends, wading in a nearby stream, impromptu baseball games and even whispered secrets seem to be foggy memories of days gone by.

I for one, am concerned!  How can parents know the thoughts and feelings of their children when they seldom enjoy a family meal around the table together?  How can children come to know the wonders of nature or the comfort of a true friend, when their activity of choice is with an electronic gadget?  Nothing compares to the human presence of a good chum.

I-pods, Computers, electronic games, and cell phones have taken over the world and kidnapped our children.  Manufacturers and their advertisers make sure to convince kids and their parents that they just aren’t part of the “in crowd” if they don’t have these expensive “toys.”

Our eight and thirteen year old granddaughters live very near our summer retreat, and spending time with them is so enjoyable.  However, when they come to visit Grandma and Grandpa, they leave their gadgets at home, at our request.  “How come?” they wanted to know.  “Because we want to talk with you, to enjoy you when we can be together- we don’t just want to sit in the same room,” we answered.  So when they come, we eat around the table together, we clean up after the meal together, we visit in the living room and we play games around the dining room table.  Our bright red Kawasaki “mule” is often seen tripping around “our valley” with us and “our girls” enjoying an evening ride to where the deer and elk gather to feed.

Statistics tell us that our children and families are suffering.  American high school students of 1950 had a working vocabulary averaging 25,000 words.  Today that level is 10,000.  As of 1998 some 85 percent of all academic honors in the United States were taken by foreign-born students.  Over a million daily doses of Ritalin and a whole group of other prescription drugs are given to alter the behavior of children.  Kids as young as first graders come home from school, not to milk, cookies and mother, but to an empty house with TV and gadgets to keep them company.  Parents are both working outside the home and family dinner time is often so late that kids are sent to bed right after the meal..  All of this to make ends meet or to make sure to match up to the “Jones.’”

Not all families have fallen into this trap, but as far as I’m concerned, one such family is too many.  What do you think?

We have a very special pet. Researchers tell us that senior citizens (and we now qualify) are healthier when they have a pet.  Of course, we had our Maddie before we could qualify, and that's because we are crazy about Miniature Schnauzers.  We get one when they are very little, so that we can train them to be loving and kind - less yappy than the typical Schnauzer!

 
When we got her, she and her tiny, white brother were the only two left from a fairly large litter.  Her hyper brother desperately wanted to be taken home, while Maddie just laid in the corner, waiting.  Her eyes and her gentle, snuggly way is what won us, for sure.  On the way home (a 2 hour ride) she slept in my arms just like a baby.  She was very easy to potty train, because she wanted to please us.  She adapted herself to our busy lifestyle, traveling by plane or in the "bus", making friends with people, and waiting patiently when we have to leave her for a few hours.  Her greatest thrills are:  Greenies (special dog treats), rides in the car or on the putt-putt (golf cart), and being with her Schnauzer friend, Toby.
 
Maddie has taught us many lessons - so many that a series of books for children are in the making.  You'll have to watch for them.  They are an "I Feel . . . " series, with activities to do and even valuable information for parents.

One important lesson that we have learned from her, is to ask for what you want or need.  She even brings us her water dish when it's empty!  When Matie wants lovin', she makes it known!  She has what we call, an educated paw.  She will touch our leg or arm or whatever part of our body she can get to.  If that doesn't get her what she wants, she begins to "talk."  This "talking is very different from a bark or growl, so we know she is "speaking" to us.  If what she wants is a ride on the putt-putt, she will NOT give up.  She will get one of her toys with a squeekie inside of it.  She brings the toy to where we are, and incessantly squeeks until we finally pay attention.  The same is true when she wants to be loved.  She'll jump up on our lap, and "slam" her head into our chest or under our necks, leaning in with all her mite. 
 
We've decided, that humans (unless they are children) seldom ask for what they want.  Rather, we sit complaining that we are not loved, but do not offer love nor seek it, in most cases.  We expect others to somehow just know what we want or need when we want or need it - as though they could read our minds.
 
Granted, it's risky to ask for what you need, but maybe you should consider taking a lesson from a Schnauzer.  Prime the pump a bit.  Give what you need to another, and chances are good that what you need will come back to you.  Say the words, offer the hug, and see what happens!

Have you ever just watched children at play?  They are college professors to those of us who will listen, observe and take note.  What can be learned about human nature is mind-boggling! 
 
This week, we have a precious family as guests of ours.  The parents are an extremely caring couple who are heros!  They go in the category of unnoticed, but they're heros just the same. The eight year old is their birth son.  Oh yes, and there are two older sons, a new college grad and a college student, who are not with us this week.  The 1,2, AND 3 year old are half sisters, who, one by one were adopted by this loving couple.  The nineteen year old twin girls are both in college, and will be adopted, becoming sisters to this large family in the near future.
 

We have watched the interactions between the youngest three with great interest!  Obviously, all three have experienced rejection by being given up by birth parents, and display some of the symptoms of that wound.  However, because "kids will be kids", they  seem to want to play with whatever the other kid is playing with.  "Mine!" they holler as they play tug-of-war with whatever they're trying to grab.  "I want it. I had it first." 
 
And when thay can't seem to make peace, they call out "Mommy, she took my . . . " or "Daddy, tell her to stop . . ."  And sometimes, to get their way or to get parent's attention, they let out a blood-curdling scream.
 
Close your eyes for just a minute, and picture the last committee meeting or board on which you sat, and ask yourself if those seated around that fancy boardroom table were appreciably different from the 1,2 and 3 year olds. Many adults are grown physically, but have left their emotional maturation in the dust and just continue using childish tactics to get their own way.  "If you don't vote for blue carpet, I am gonna take my money elsewhere."
Self-centered children who want what they want when they want it. 
 
I wonder if that's why we are advised in the Bible to "put away childish things" to "no longer be children, tossed about by everything," but to "GROW UP."  Many have gotten stuck in childish behaviors because they were wounded in their earlier years, and their emotional growth was stunted and perverted at about the age the damage occurred
 
The good news however, is that we don't have to remain as emotional children.  We can choose to move beyond our "ditch,"  either greatly reducing or eliminating altogether those selfish, self-centered, "I 'll do it MY way" positions of a little child.  First we have to recognize at what age we are stuck, and then process through what has stopped our emotional maturation process.  Gotta' go back to where the damage occurred.  Granted, you'll never change history, but you CAN change your response to it.
 
Wonder how to do it?  Visit our products or resource pages to find services that can benefit you! Visit our Schedule of Live Events page to find an upcoming event in your area or our Groups in Your Area page to get involved with a recovery group.
 
Now, I've got to get some shut-eye, so that I can be alert to what these little dolls will teach me tomorrow!

It's summer in the mountains, and we are enjoying the beauty of our New Mexico retreat.  As we sit on the porch in the early morning, the trees: Pinon, Cedar, Pine and Aspen sparkle in the sun's first light. Birds, perched on the tips of the trees, sing their welcome to another high-blue-sky day!  This morning, Mr. and Mrs. Roadrunner cross our driveway and slip into the coverage of the cedar's low branches.  Crickets are chirping, birds are singing, but the stillness and silence of the surroundings brings sweet peace and a sense that all is well with the world.  The air is clean and fragrant with the wildflowers and the family of pines.

Our place is in a valley in the mountains.  Beyond our own little forested property, Sierra Blanca, a 12,003 foot, very majestic mountain beckons us to "look to the hills from whence comes our help."  On the other side of us, the Capitan range, the only US mountain range that runs east/west, has blue and purple splendor of its own.  Ours is a mountaintop blessing this summer.  What a fabulous place to write and recuperate from the push and drive of the city and from years of incessant travel and many deadlines (not that we don't still have both, but at a much less demanding pace.)

Just yesterday morning, our good friends, who had spent a week here with us, returned home to the valley and the heat of Phoenix.  They called at 6 pm to let us know of their safe arrival.  The temperature there was 109 degrees and here, it was 78.  Some difference.  From the  restfulness of the mountains and the cool and comfortable temperatures to the crowded valley and the sweltering heat!  It got me to thinking, that our lives are like that.  There are times of rest and comfort, but all too soon comes the upset and distress of a "valley" experience. 

Both the mountaintop and the valley experiences are for our benefit - even though that may be hard to believe!  C.S. Lewis often said that "pain is God's megaphone to rouse a deaf world."  Painful valleys can send us into bitterness and blame or straight into the arms of God, who promised even though we walk through the valley of the shadow of death, He will be with us. Right now, two friends of ours are in that valley.  One is a young man suffering from a malignant brain tumor and the other is a senior citizen, who was full of life, suffering the results of a fall, with many body complications and internal bleeding.  That's physical and emotional pain, to be sure!  And there are many who are suffering equally damaging emotional pain from wounds they have received, harbored and allowed to control their life's choices.

We have discovered that in the valley of anxiety, pain and confusion, there can be mountaintop moments and an attitude of HOPE.  Even in a hospital room, a funeral parlor, a divorce court, a hot or steamy city, or a confusing workplace, there is a refuge - a place of assurance where we can breath deeply the clean air offered by the One who created both the mountains and the valleys.  Know, that on the mountaintop or in the deepest valley, "underneath are the everlasting arms."

Ron and I have a precious little six year old Miniature Schnauzer whose name is Maddie.  She is a super-intelligent pup, and regardless of what some think, this dog anticipates our needs, knows when we need comforting, actually brings us her dish when she needs water, and has got quite a gift of gab!  She’s as close to human as a pup can get, we think!

Just this week, new steps and a small porch were constructed to get into the hose at the front door.  Now Maddie got used to coming in that door by walking up the steps and straight into the living room, however, this week things changed.  The steps now force one to approach the door coming up the steps from the side, onto the porch and then into the house.  But Maddie doesn’t get it!  It’s like she’s telling us in her own doggie talk (and it’s very audible) “Look, I always came in directly up the front steps – no porch, no sideways steps.  Why did you have to confuse me?”

So time after time, instead of running up the new steps, she approached from the front and went under the porch.  The she’d come out from under the porch, tilt her head to one side and ‘say’, “I don’t get it!”   She hasn’t got it yet.  Oh I suppose we could teach her, but it was amusing to observe her teaching us. 

We are creatures of habit.  Have you ever thought about just how habitual and routine we can be?  Think about it for a minute.  When you shower, how do you apply the soap?  Which part of your body do you wash first?  Do you shampoo first or wash your body first?  When you dry after a shower, what gets dried first?  It’s the same with brushing teeth, combing or brushing hair, and most routine things we do.  Sometimes routine or habits are helpful, as they can assist us to get a number of things done without a whole lot of “thinking about it” energy expended.

I have a routine in the mornings.  After my sleepy-eyed visit to the bathroom, I go to the kitchen to put the kettle on for a hot drink.  While the water is heating I return to the bedroom and make the bed, Then usually I decide what I’ll wear that day (based on the days upcoming activities).  By that time, the water is heated and I return to the kitchen, make our hot drinks, and join Ron on the porch.  (What a fabulous place for early morning worship and meditation – listening to the birds welcome the day.)  That routine insures that at least I have a good start, and can return to the bedroom to shower and dress, and I don’t have to look at an unmade bed (a pet peeve of mine)

But there are habits that we formed much earlier in life perhaps that are difficult to break.  I remember how arduous it was to stop sucking my thumb.  Comfort and security were attached to that habit!  Then there was the habit of judging myself too harshly, and the tendency to be judgmental and critical of others also.  That habit still occasionally wants to raise its ugly head!

If you have one or two of those pesky habits that sabotage your success (like Maddie’s front door dilemma) just remember, you are a human with lots of assistance available for breaking a destructive habit.  You CAN be successful.  Go for it!  And we’ll let you know when Maddie has conquered the front steps.

 Have you ever bought one of those pieces of furniture that you have to put together with funny looking screws, bolts and fixtures – ones like you’ve never seen before?  Well we just did, and have spent so far, about three hours putting together a desk, and we still have the drawers to go.  Of course, paying three hundred dollars is certainly better than the one we had fallen in love with that cost twelve hundred dollars, so we went the more laborious, less costly route.  Sound familiar?

 As I write, we are taking a break so that Ron can take one of his famous “power naps” and I can write this week’s blog.  I began to think of the similarities between our current “figure out the puzzle and try and put it together” and the complexities and confusion that relationships often are.

When we first married, Ron and I thought that everything was great.  We paid only two dollars for the marriage license and on our wedding night the vending machine at our hotel gave us two cans of ginger ale for the price of one!  What a bargain.  But the first snafu arrived on day five of the honeymoon when Ron complained (putting it mildly) that he was getting too much lovin’, and then a few weeks later that he wasn’t getting enough!  I discovered that even though I loved him dearly, he was not filling the empty spot in my heart where my father should have been.  And I was not filling his need for his mother.  What a goofed up mess we were.

We have since discovered that marriage begins with dream-world – it’s gonna’ be heaven on earth!  Yup, that desk is gonna be so handy and so attractive! 

Shortly after the wedding however, disillusionment sets in.  Once we opened the box we were horrified by the thick book of perplexing instructions.  This isn’t going to be as easy as we’d thought! 

Once in the day to day grind, we discover that we are in misery.  He or she isn’t what and who I thought. Did you know that 75% of the couples who stay married (and that’s only 50% of those who marry) live in misery for the rest of their lives?  It’s like how we felt after opening the box of desk parts, laying them out all around us, and feeling defeated before we got started!

The couples, who move beyond misery, do so because they read the instructions and little by little begin to work on things, rather than being discouraged before they get started.  They learn of each other’s ways and why they have them.  They learn of the background; the beginnings of their partner, and how childhood has impacted who they are.  And they take a big long look in the mirror – that’s most important – to see how they became who they are, and how their own idiosyncrasies influence their relationship.  That work of self examination leads to personal changes that improve the marriage.  Knowledge leads to awareness and is power for healing. It’s like that putting this desk together too.  If we ran ahead, looking at all of the instructions, we would quit before we start, but one step at a time gets the job done, tedious though it may be, and soon we begin to see the desk appearing before us, rather than a heap of disconnected “stuff.”

Once couples have personal knowledge, the knowledge of how to change themselves, and do the work, they begin to accept each other and enjoy the marriage they have built – notice:  It didn’t appear the moment you were pronounced man and wife.  It took work, compromise, selflessness and cooperation, but soon what you dreamed about began to take shape.  Acceptance for each other became the prize that made your marriage joyful.  And so it has been with our desk.  Perseverance, willingness to follow the directions and hard work created what we need to continue the work God gave us to do.

Acceptance is the state you want to be in – acceptance of yourself, acceptance of each other and acceptance of the instruction and the guidelines for keeping marriage a taste of heaven. 

Now, Ron’s awake.  Back to that desk!

Twice our miniature schnauzer, whose name is Maddie, has been at death’s door.  It has happened both times that we came to our mountain hide-away.  Why here?  Why now?  What is doing this to her?

Maddie is a sweet and feisty six year old, with more personality than a team of cheerleaders!  She guards and protects us and has a way to wrap people around her little paw like a baby girl can wrap her Daddy.  She has us wrapped, to be sure.

At Christmas time and again two weeks ago, we awakened in the morning to find the floor covered with large patches of blood.  Of course we raced her off to the veterinarian, who was super-concerned and confused!  Tests, IV’s, medications and lots of TLC later, she recovered.  This time, her stay was extended because we had speaking appointments in the middle of the crisis.

We arrived home late at night from our last engagement, and couldn’t wait until morning to go to Dr. Becky to get “our girl.”  I’m not sure who was more delighted – her or us.  She wined and snuggled and wouldn’t let us out of her sight.  Of course we were delighted to hold her and pet her, and speak softly to the recuperating princess.  The next morning when we awakened, she was apparently surprised to discover that she had awakened in her own bed rather than in the doggie hospital.  She flew onto our bed and lavished us with kisses and sounds of delight.

Not only is Maddie a sweet little puppy, but she is also the star of a series of books in the making, written for children.  It is an I Feel . . . series for 6-12 year olds, with activities for parents to do with their children and additional information for parents.  The stories are written, and we are in the artwork and layout process.  Watch for them to be announced in the LRI Newsletter and in bookstores.

Now there is a new story to write – “I Feel Secure Again.”  That’s how it is when after we get all “twitterpated’ and topsy-turvy from illness, loss, separation and pain and once again find ourselves with those who we know love us and will care for and protect us. We are safe, secure and happy again.  Just like Maddie, we always want that “someone” near. 

Who is your someone?

Oh yes, the cause of Maddie’s illness – the well-publicized, tainted dog food.

Do you remember where you were when you heard the news broadcast of the assassination of J.F. Kennedy or of the World Trade Center disaster?  I was a newly graduated nurse just returning back to the hospital after a week’s vacation with family and was standing in Boston's South Station when the announcement of Kennedy's assassination came over the loudspeaker.  Perhaps like Ron, you were in the shower when you heard someone else gasp or scream as they viewed the sight of an airplane flying right into the second skyscraper in New York, and a giant fireball erupting from the building as debris spewed everywhere.  Both of these events were defining moments in our lives - disasters too awful, too unthinkable to have actually occurred, but they did!  The atrocities of war, a devastating diagnosis of incurable cancer, the inhumanity of man to man have all become too commonplace to believe, and yet they occur.  Life has become all too unpredictable - too uncertain.

For over twenty years I worked as a registered nurse.  I cared for young and old whose lives were hanging in the balance.  Some recovered and left the hospital.  Others found the end of their road in a hospital bed.  As I cared for and loved my patients, I came to realize that in an age when so much is uncertain, when life is tenuous at best, that accomplishments, possessions and position really do not matter very much. 

Never have I seen a patient ask that their diplomas or recognitions be hung in their room.  Never have they asked to have even a picture displayed of that newly acquired Jaguar or BMW.  Never have they asked for their bank statements to be placed in their bedside tables so that they could be reviewed in those quiet and lonely hours.  Only one thing seemed important – their relationships! 

For a while I worked for Hospice as a nurse and a counselor.  My job was to reunite families that had been fractured through the years.  It was to help patients and their loved ones let go of resentments, hard feelings, anger and years of torturing silence.  Couples who had lived as married singles were, in most cases, able to admit their fault and enjoy their last days together.  Parents and children, severed by rebellion, harsh treatment or pure stubbornness were able to resolve differences and display love toward one another.

What a shame that human beings are all too often so invested in being right that they sacrifice the relationships that mean the most and the one person who could bring them comfort in their dying moments.  To be sure, our relationship with God is of utmost importance, but the warm hand, the loving embrace and the gentle kiss of a spouse, parent, child or friend can provide the human touch that makes us feel we’re not alone.

Is there someone from whom you have distanced?  You might consider what you could do to turn the tide and bridge the gap between you before it’s too late. 

“I’ve gotta’ stop doing this!”  Ever heard yourself saying these words?

Last night before going to bed, I went to the living room to turn off the light. After backing away from the table lamp, I headed toward the bedroom and whamo!  I smashed that same foot again!

That poor foot has been through the war!  First there was a neuroma (a grape-sized cyst at the end of a nerve) between the third and fourth toes, and that required surgery.  Just about the time that it healed nicely, I stubbed my big toe on a rock and broke the nail more than halfway down.  Of course the whole thing turned black, and it seems like forever that I’ve been waiting for it to grow out.  Then two weeks ago, I was about to feed our mini-schnauzer, and dropped a watermelon-sized, heavy jar on that foot.  I was sure that I’d broken it, and if I did, I don’t know for sure.  Of course, the foot became the color of the toenail – WOW! I match!  And then, just getting beyond Technicolor, last night’s wham occurred.

It’s just not fair!  Why the same poor foot over and over again?  Sound familiar?  It might not be a smashed toe or broken nail, but all too often, it’s a smashed relationship or a broken heart.  It seems like we keep going over the same territory or around the same mountain, time and time again.

Is there a message I’m supposed to get here?  What in the world is it?  Or is it that I am so concerned about something that I live in fear about it.  Afraid of breaking a toe or smashing a foot – or afraid of yet another broken relationship.  Living in fear can get us into trouble over and over again.  Why?  Because fear paralyzes and fear predicts its own end.  What we fear happens.

Just something to ponder – and ask yourself how it works in your life.  You can post your conclusions on LRI Connect under Blog Responses.

Purpose – there are many synonyms for this word.  It’s what I wrote about last week, and this week will give you a perfect example of someone with a point, a rationale, motivation, a reason, a cause and an incentive.

Years ago, George Bernard Shaw penned these words:
“This is the true joy of life, the being used up for a purpose recognized by yourself as a mighty one; being a force of nature instead of a feverish, selfish little clot of ailments and grievances, complaining that the world will not devote itself to making you happy. I am of the opinion that my life belongs to the community, and as long as I live, it is my privilege to do for it what I can.”

Quite powerful words, wouldn’t you say?  To be sure, this man knew what purpose is and no doubt lived his to the fullest!  While we may or may not agree with the focus of his life, one has to be sure, based on these words, that he had one!

The picture below is of Kathleen Lawrence, age 60 something, of Sun City, Arizona in a very courageous swim with ten-year old Allie Jones of Phoenix.  Notice behind them is the famous Alcatraz.  They jumped into the choppy 52-degree water at 7:10 AM on Wednesday, April 25th, with a purpose, a goal in mind – San Francisco’s Aquatic Park.  The waters here are noted for very strong currents, so theirs was a fast get away from being swept back into the island’s rugged edges.

Kathleen says that little Allie, her partner for the swim, questioned her before they jumped in.  “What do you think?  Can we make it?”  Undaunted, Kathleen said, “Well let’s jump in and give it a try.”  And so they did, and then kept paddling rapidly.  They were given 1½ hours to make it to the Aquatic Park, and made the swim in one hour, two minutes!  Their landing spot, only 35 yards wide, required some “serious navigation in the water with land marks to swim toward.”

Why do we tell this story?  Because Kathleen and her husband Alex are our friends, and we are proud to say that they are?  Yes, and no.  There is a greater reason.   The point of this story is that Kathleen, who lives in a retirement community and could live a life of swimming in one of the local pools for pleasure, swims for quite another cause.  Her motivation is the attention drawn by the Alcatraz swim, to the need for pool safety. 

You see, here in Arizona, it’s hard to turn on the evening news in the summertime, because you know that you are going to hear of another drowning!  Just last week, two little ones drowned in a pool – two siblings! 

The publicity that has accompanied the Alcatraz swim has allowed for the advertisement of a special Sun City event for Grandparents.  On May 19th’ Kathleen along with other Sun City swimmers will teach grandparents how to prevent their grandchildren from drowning in a pool.  They will teach swimming techniques for lifesaving as well as CPR.
So Kathleen’s incentive was other-centered – the lives of children and the informing of senior citizens.

Kathleen is making great use of her time and her hobby.  Her rationale for allowing the publicity, from which she shrinks, is the saving of lives.

Kathleen, like George Bernard Shaw, does not want to be a selfish clot of ailments complaining that the world will not devote itself to making her happy.  Her idea is to make the world happy, by saving lives!

Now Kathleen remember, you CAN take a little time for a rocking chair and a good book.  You certainly deserve it!  And the children, parents and grandparents of Arizona thank you!

The well publicized news reports from Virginia Tech tell mostly the ghastly side of the horrifying carnage that took place there on April 16th.  However, one piece of news that gives hope for the human spirit to all of us is the action taken by one of the professors during the shooting spree.

A survivor of one of the most horrendous injustices known to mankind, the Holocaust, Professor Librescu stood at the door of his classroom attempting to block the gunman from entering so that his students could escape out the windows.  A barred door did not stop Cho!  He shot through the door, killing the elderly professor, but a number of students from that classroom were able to escape.

It makes one stop to think.  There couldn’t have been much time for the professor to prepare.  He couldn’t have debated long with himself whether or not he should endeavor to protect his students, he just did it!  He paid the ultimate price for his impulsive act of kindness, but in so doing, he saved a number of the younger generation.

Professor Liviu Librescu was an internationally recognized researcher in aeronautical engineering and head of the Engineering Science and Mechanics Department at Virginia Tech.  Born and educated in Romania, he is described as a gentleman, who dressed in suit and tie and had a great sense of humor.  His son has said that he is not at all surprised that his father acted heroically in the crisis.

What makes a person act so selflessly in a crisis?  Do you think that he might have been so contented with his life and so grateful to have survived the Holocaust and become successful in his career, that he was willing to take the risk of ending his life at age 76?  Do you think that perhaps he felt that he had contributed to society and fulfilled his purpose, and it was appropriate to insure that his young students have the same opportunity?  It makes me wonder if the memories of being protected as a child during the Holocaust contributed to his selfless act.

These are sobering thoughts!  What do you suppose his students feel knowing that their life was spared by a well accomplished and internationally recognized engineer and professor?

For me, I have to take it to the next step.  How do I feel knowing that because of a carpenter who lived long before I was born and who was willing to sacrifice His life, I have been given the opportunity for personal freedom, peace, joy and love? Now I must ask myself the question, have I honored Him and His sacrifice by paying it forward – living a life that benefits others?  Am I fulfilling my purpose?  Are you?
 
Reply to this:
· Have you discovered your purpose – that calling to which one responds to be of some benefit to mankind?
· If you have, what is it?
· What specifically are you doing that reaches outside of yourself to benefit others?

Respond on LRI Connect, where you’ll find another copy of the above mini-article

A 1991 book by Sandra D. Wilson and Ronald E. Eggert entitled Hurt People Hurt People no doubt aptly describes just what happened in the April 16^th massacre of 33 people including the assailant on the campus of Virginia Tech.

Reading the newspaper reports, one can see that this “quiet” Virginia Tech student who was described as “troubled,” no doubt considered himself to be a victim.  Of what?

We believe that when it comes down to the bottom line and all the evidence has been collected, it will show that Cho Seung-Hui considered himself to be rejected.

Having read what information is currently available and watched television reports including pictures of the gunman, it seems evident to us that this young man was filled with rage.  The note found in his dormitory room is filled with negative and derogatory comments towards unspecific people and groups at the university.

The kind of rage displayed by the shooting rampage with “gun pointed directly at the heads of his victims, riddling them with 5-6 bullets each” indicates his feelings of having been unjustly treated and his resulting preparation to end lives.  Even his writing in creative writing class was of concern to his teacher, who had referred him to the school counselor.  His sullen appearance and his withdrawn behavior are visible indicators of his emotional pain, as was his refusal to speak to people or allow others to befriend him.  Rather than debriefing by talking with someone who could help him, apparently this young man’s thoughts, developed into a plan and kept being rehearsed in his mind, with his case against society getting stronger and stronger and his rage taking over his logic and reasoning ability.

How devastating it is that 32 others have paid the price and their families and friends are suffering as a result of one man’s wounds and pain, while those on college campuses and many others worldwide, mourn this senseless tragedy.

This horrific carnage did not have to happen, if the world at large would understand that: Rejected people reject people.  “You have caused me to do this,” Cho had written in the note he left behind.

Will you help us to get the message of hope and healing to high school and college campuses, to the cottages, apartments and homes of our world?  If every person would reach out to one or two others with this assistance, quite a difference could be made in the hearts and minds of America and every foreign land!

The warmth of human touch is something that we all think we understand.  Many of us have warm memories of cuddling with Mom, rough-housing with Dad, and hugs and cheek-pinches from relatives at holiday dinners.  Not all of us, however, share those experiences, and may not truly know how to reach others with a loving touch.

Tiffany Field, Director of Touch Research at the University Of Miami School Of Medicine, and her team of researchers, have made an extensive study of touch, or lack of it, and its effect on human beings.

The team visited playgrounds at preschools and McDonald's in Paris and Miami, comparing what they learned in these two different areas. What they learned was that there is a startling difference in the amount of touch the French mothers gave to their children and the amount American children were receiving.

Another study found that at McDonald's, Parisian teens were more apt to touch each other , appropriately and affectionately, than American teens are.  American teens are more apt to touch themselves (self-hugging, playing with their hair etc.)

They also found that Parisian children were far less aggressive on the playground than American children, and that French teens are less verbally and physically aggressive than their American counterparts.  Tiffany Field believes that this is NOT a coincidence!

Field says that there are many animal studies that show that touch-deprived animals become aggressive, violent, and even kill each other. "In Romanian orphanages, children who weren't touched experienced stunted growth, and all sorts of physical, cognitive, and social problems. Touch is crucial.  It's key to how we learn, how we survive.  It influences how we think and feel.  It bonds us together."

Studies show that soothing touch, such as in gentle massage, produces salient effects in the body, from lifting serotonin to lowering stress and blood pressure.  Because of society's move to less and less touch (from automation and fear of misinterpreted touch), about 38% of the population seeks alternative therapies such as acupressure or massage simply to feel human contact .

Child-care experts worry that the growing no-touch tendency has filtered down to how we care for our offspring.  In preschools, even model ones, children on average are touched less than 12% of the time.  Linda Lowman, Associate Professor of Child Development at San Antonio College, says, "They go from house to car to day care and they're never in someone's arms.  Babies aren't being held, or bounced on knees, like they used to be. We used to pass them around from relative to relative, but I guess now there aren't as many relatives to help care for the kids.  I've seen people put their babies in carriers and then place them in front of the TV.  That's really scary."

Skin hunger remains an emptiness, some contend, that we try to fill with gadgets, gizmos, movies, food and the other effluvium of rampant consumerism.  Engineers at the University of Buffalo in New York recently invented a "haptic" glove that can transmit the sensation of touch over the Internet.  We're desperate, aren't we?

In addition, "to be careful, teachers adopt common-sense rules" says Pamela Parker, an administrative attorney for the Association of Texas Professional Educators.  "Side hugs and back pats are OK, for instance; frontal hugs are not.  Even so, touching is a tricky area, especially in junior high and high school."

Field concludes, "If you"re not getting touch in one category, you look for it in another."
Researchers watched adults having coffee in cafes around the world and recorded how often they touched each other.  The score:  In London, 0; in Florida, 2; in Paris, 110; and in Puerto Rico, 180.

The United States, like the United Kingdom, the Netherlands and some other northern countries, is ranked "low touch" by social scientists, while Spain, France, Italy, Greece, and other Mediterranean countries are classified as "high-touch".  Field also noted that some countries that are strongly Christian, such as Italy and Mexico, are highly touch-oriented.
                              -- Adapted from the Arizona Republic
                 

Our fear has paralyzed and isolated us!  Even in the Christian church in many countries, including the United States, the abundance of affection that used to be present, has died off.  We are afraid to touch, and so we are lonely and isolated.  Could this be the reason that we are turning to possessions and the Internet, or to unhealthy behaviors in order to feed the hunger we have brought on to ourselves?  Just that little automated voice from the computer, announcing "You're connected", makes many lonely people feel somehow linked somewhere - to someone - who will respond.

Wouldn't we be wise to revisit this blessing of physical touch?  Wouldn't we be wise to be affectionate and tender with the little ones among us?  Of course there are those who would use touch to damage or wound a child, but that's not the majority.  We need to give the little ones precious memories, to carry with them into adulthood, binding their hearts to us and teaching them to carry it forward.  And, know what?  A warm handshake, a caring arm around the shoulder, a concerned look in the eye, and a compassionate word or two, speaks volumes that words alone cannot!

Leioni was a female child in a Hindu family.  In her culture, females are regarded as having less worth and value than a man.  It seems that they are just to be used, abused, then bartered off to a man of the mother's choosing.

She was only nine when an uncle came to her for the first time, threatening her with a severe beating if she told anyone what he was doing. She believed him, as he was known to be a very harsh and severe man.  Leioni hid the experiences of repeated incest that continued until puberty.  His perpetration stopped then only because he feared a pregnancy would result. 
 
Her relief was only brief.  The abusive uncle told another uncle of his exploits, so the second uncle used this information as an opportunity to also incest his niece, figuring that since she was already accustomed to the abuse, she wouldn't resist him.  He didn't seem to care that she was now fertile.  This abuse continued until she was seventeen, and still, the girl, living under constant threat should she expose her uncles, kept the secret to herself and suffered in silence.

The stress caused by the long-term abuse was too much for her body to tolerate.  As is normal in stressful situations, the body responds with a physical ailment.  Leioni developed psoriasis on various large spots on her body.  Tortured by the itch and the embarrassment of her appearance, and the knowledge that she was "used goods", she pulled further away from friends and family, retreating more and more into herself.

She was now, however, at the age when Hindu mothers begin to look for marriage partners for their daughters, so her mother was hunting.  She settled on a prospective husband, and arranged a meeting.  At this meeting, the prospect gets to look over the potential wife, as if he were choosing a new suit of clothes, and decides by her appearance if she is acceptable to him.  

At the meeting, the chosen husband decided that Leioni was acceptable, and the marriage was arranged.  Leioni, however, was concerned about two things.  First, was the psoriasis that scarred her body.  Second, was the fact that she had been sexually abused and was therefore no longer a virgin. This is a major concern for Hindu men, and should they marry a woman who is not a virgin, she can be put to death for deceiving her husband and for sexual exploits prior to marriage.

Secretly, she arranged a conversation with her betrothed, and shared with him her first concern, the psoriasis.  His received this well, and promised to end his habit of being with many other women since he would now be married to Leioni.   She was afraid to share her history of sexual abuse with him, but during the conversation, they both decided to accept each other, regardless of what their history contained.

Their marriage went well for the first three years.  Leioni gave birth to a son, and then a daughter.  She was thrilled with her little family, but apparently her husband was not satisfied in their marriage.  He again took up his old habit of many women, and their relationship began to deteriorate.  Time passed, and Leioni became pregnant again.  When she shared the good news with her husband, he became irate. He insisted that the child she carried was not his, and demanded that she have an abortion.  Of course, his allegations only represented what he himself was doing outside of the marriage. We often accuse others of the very things we ourselves are doing. As is the custom of Hindu men, he ran to his parents with the news of the pregnancy, and they also insisted that the child be aborted.  Leioni was devastated! Her in-laws actually gave her husband the money for the procedure, and told him to drag her to the hospital if he had to.  And that he did.

To make sure that she stayed and had the procedure, he remained with her at the hospital.  About half an hour before her scheduled procedure, he stepped outside to smoke.  As he stood on the sidewalk outside the hospital, a man dressed in a long white robe with long brown hair appeared to him.  Her husband heard this man speak the words, "You have no right to take the life of my son!"

Moments before she was to be wheeled into the operating room, her husband came racing to her.  "Get up. Get up.  You are not going to have an abortion! We are going home" he declared.  She happily obeyed, and dressed quickly.  On the way home he told her what had happened while he was smoking.  "I don't know who that was, but I was afraid.  I decided to obey his words."  Her husband was still not happy about the pregnancy, and their marriage continued to deteriorate throughout the remaining months of her pregnancy.

The pregnancy was stressful for Leioni because her husband and in-laws still verbally tortured her about this new baby. Several months later, their son was born, prematurely. Little Samnish was only seven months in her womb, and weighing 3 pounds 7 ounces.  Physically, he was a healthy preemie, and quickly gained weight and seemed to be thriving. Leioni felt that he was a special child, chosen and saved from death by a miraculous appearance and words of reprimand.

As the time came for him to go to school, it became evident that the child had a learning disability.  He was diagnosed as dyslexic, which would complicate his ability to learn, especially his reading ability. Leioni was advised to remove him from the demanding Singapore public school system to a slower- paced school.  She chose the large Christian school, which greatly angered her Hindu husband!  He did not stop her, however, due to the cultural value supporting education for a boy child.  One day, however, when Samnish came home from school, and in his book was a picture of Jesus, his father exploded.  "This is the man who came to me outside the hospital.  There is no question; it was this Jesus who stopped the abortion".  This knowledge was acceptable to Leioni, but her husband became angrier still. How is it that the Christian God had such power over him?

After several years of schooling, Samnish was doing very well in all of his subjects, but the father was still very disturbed that the son was in a Christian school.  He tortured the boy with words, and so did the father's Hindu parents. "They are speaking evil things! You will be sorry that you sent your son there!"  The boy was greatly rejected by his father, grandparents, and even his two older siblings, but he struggled on in spite of the tension at home. His school became his place of comfort and happiness.

One evening at the dinner table, the hostility escalated.  Samnish spoke of his desire to be baptized into the Christian faith. His father, brother, and sister pelted him with angry, hurtful words.  In tears, he fled to his room.  Leioni went to console and comfort him, and it seemed as though he had settled down by bedtime. The family retired for the night, and Leioni finally fell into a troubled sleep.  In the middle of the night, she was awakened by a thump on her shoulder.  She head a voice say to her, "Go to your son!"  Quickly, she rushed to her son's room.

In Singapore, houses are apartment flats, some of them many stories tall.  Leioni and her family lived on the seventh floor of their building.  When Leioni opened her son's bedroom door, he was on the window sill with one leg out of the window, in the process of jumping to his death.  Carefully, she coaxed him back into the room, by sharing her love for him and God's love for him as well.  She was able to convince him that that everything would be alright.  "Daddy will calm down, she said, and things will smooth out.  Just wait about five more years before you decide to be baptized".  She held him close to her until he fell asleep in her arms.

That night, Leioni knew that she had to make a decision.  Her son had been rejected and tortured by his father, siblings and grandparents longer than he could bear.  Samnish had been spared again, this time from suicide. Leioni knew that she had to get Samnish out of that environment.  Would she choose her husband or her son? It was not a hard decision.  She had mothered three children, two sons and a daughter.  Not only did she love all three deeply, but was also keenly aware of her responsibility as a mother.  Her husband could stand; could survive without her, but her children still needed their mother.

Life became complicated, and difficult without the financial support of her husband.  Working as a bookkeeper, it isn't easy to support three children and afford the rent in one of Singapore's high-rise apartments. In addition, sending her son Samnish to a Christian school cost a big-ticket monthly fee.  Leioni was convinced that the Christian God had saved her son for a special purpose and that he needed to be just where he was - in that Christian school.  Despite the learning disability with which he suffered, he was thriving in school academically, which made Leioni very happy indeed. Typical of a loving mother, she wanted her boy, whose life had been spared once before birth, and again from suicide, to have a successful, happy life.  In this situation, with his Hindu father, grandparents, brother, and sister in such opposition to both her son and herself, Leioni was set on proving to them that the Christian God who had saved Samnish twice was capable of providing all he needed for a good life.

Leioni attended a month-long series that we presented in Singapore earlier this year.  Toward the end of those meetings, she arranged an appointment with me, and she shared this story.  I cried with her as she told of her son having been saved from eminent death and of their lives since his birth. Our time together was nearing an end when a knock came on the door.  I answered the knock, and there stood a tall, handsome young man.  Seeing Leioni in the room, he said, "Oh, there you are, Mother. I've been looking for you!".  I threw my  arms around him.  "So, you are Samnish," I said.  "I understand that you want to be a pastor". 

"That is my dream," he answered.  "No son, you are called, you are chosen!  This is your mission.  You will be an ambassador for God and His kingdom, there is no question about that!" I replied.

Already, Samnish has taken up leadership in his local congregation.  In our month-long series of meetings, he served as an usher and greeter every night.  Tall and handsome, he is the picture of success and Christian joy in service.  Samnish is eighteen years old now, and is longing is to attend seminary and become a pastor.  In Singapore, students must pass rigid exams before being qualified to attend classes beyond the secondary level.  It will mean that he will have to leave Singapore to study Theology in England, Australia or the U.S.  As he waits, and plans for those exams, his mother, who is studying to become a Christian herself, prays for the finances to send him to college and seminary. 

Ron and I have started a fund for Samnish's education.  If your heart has been touched by his story and you want to contribute to Samnish's education, you can send your contributions to:

Samnish Education Fund
c/o Life Renewal Institute
251 Stenton Avenue
Plymouth Meeting, PA  19462

The travelers have returned!  Our trip to Istanbul, Turkey and on to several locations in Russia is over.  We are glad to be home, but missing the wonderful Turkish and Russian cuisine!  More than that however, we're missing the Russian people - especially our hosts, Natasha and Valery.

 We came home with the best-ever recipe for Borscht!  It was served to us at the Ivanova home in Moscow, and prepared by Natasha, the lady of the house.  All of us on the team raved about this soup, and we convinced Natasha to share the recipe.  Here it is:

                                         Natasha's Borscht

4 ½ quarts water
1 pound potatoes, plus one extra potato
1 pound cabbage
2 medium size fresh beets, shredded
Olive oil
2 lg. carrots, shredded
3 med. onions
3 Tbsp. tomato paste
6-7 cloves garlic
Sour cream
Salt and pepper to taste
Bay leaves

Boil beets in the water until nearly tender.  Cut potatoes into cubes and add to beets.  Boil 10 minutes.  Cut cabbage and simmer together with beets and potatoes on low heat.
Fry onions in small amount of olive oil.  Add shredded carrots and beets.  Fry 10 minutes on low heat.  Add tomato paste and cook another 5 minutes.  Add onions, carrots, beets and tomato paste to soup.  Add garlic, bay leaves and salt and pepper to taste.   Keep cooking for 15 minutes on med/low heat.  Keep on the stove another 5-10 minutes before serving.  Remove bay leaves.

Serve in individual bowls with a dollop of sour cream in the center of each bowl.  Garnish with a small sprig of parsley for additional color.

Serve with homemade bread.
Enjoy!  

We have decided that when it comes to human interaction and a work of healing that needs to be done for those who suffer emotionally, there are no accidents!

Several months ago, while doing research for "The Journey", we found a couple living about 12 miles from where Nancy grew up, who have studied Parental Rejection for 45 years, in over 200 different cultures.  The amusing thing about this couple is that their names are Ron and Nancy Rohner.   When we contacted them, introducing ourselves as Ron and Nancy Rockey, Dr. Rohner was amazed at the name similarity and the interest we share in the science of rejection, and how it affects our lives. 

Long story short, we decided to take a train ride from Philadelphia to New London, Connecticut, and then rent a car and make the drive to the University of Connecticut in Storrs.  By appointment, we met Ron and Nancy Rohner, and enjoyed a delightful afternoon, dinner, and evening with them, comparing notes and acquiring their research.

As a result of this meeting, we have been asked to speak at the International Congress on Parental Acceptance and Rejection being held in Istanbul, Turkey, June 22-24, 2006.  We are to present our recovery program there.  What a thrill to meet with professionals from all over the world and to make available to them our new program, "The Journey". 

After our time in Turkey, we will travel to Moscow, Russia, to conduct seminars in Moscow and another Russian city.  We will be accompanied by The Director and the Assistant Director of the Media Center, and their spouses.

Just this week we received an invitation to go to Romania for a day or two while in Russia.  We are not sure that this can be arranged at this late date, but understand that there is a great work going on in Romania with our materials.  The workbook of "Binding the Wounds" has been translated into that language and they have asked to translate our book, "Belonging" as well.

How exciting it is for us to see that a message of hope and healing is traveling around the world!  And, by the way, about 120 people in Singapore are in recovery classes as a result of our time there.  WOW!

It is Sunday evening, and as usual, we have had another full Singapore Day. If you could just see Orchard Road at most any time of the day or night, you would know exactly what we mean. The shops are open until very late at night, and some actually 24 hours. At 10 PM, the streets are literally crawling with people. There are restaurants everywhere and areas where hawkers (vendors) sell food and have a few tables for people to sit and eat. You would think that the people would be chubby, but 99% of the folk are tiny! They look at Ron like he is from another planet. The amount of food that people consume is amazing. Got any ideas why they are so tiny and folk like us struggle with weight? They eat rice and noodles with meat and vegetables mostly, but there are restaurants from every ethnic group one can imagine!!! The pot-lucks at the churches serve the finest vegetarian foods! We had some beans one Sabbath, that were yummy and unique. I inquired who made them, only to discover that it was the Conference President who had made them! I have looked everywhere and cannot find the beans he used, so I am actually going to ask the man to get some for me, so that I can fix them in Arizona!

Each night that we have a meeting, they feed the staff. The food is very good, but we are discovering that we can only take so much Asian food! Today at lunch a couple took us to a fine Italian Dinner at the Hyatt Hotel -- WOW! It was a buffet, and they had everything! The teramisu (?sp) was to die for! That was very kind of them. The wife is the head of the Center for Children in Crisis here in Singapore, and had taken us before to "Michael Angelo's" another outstanding Italian Restaurant here. One of the pastors here -- Assistant to the President and his wife (a medical doctor) have been abundantly kind to us 5 on the team. Each Saturday night after the afternoon of meetings, they take us somewhere to enjoy something of the island.

Yesterday we went to Sentosa Island, just off the coast and assessable by boat, tram or bridge. We rode over the bridge in their mini-van listening to delightful music, getting refreshed in the air-conditioning and drinking iced Milo. So sorry you don't now what it is. It's a malty - chocolaty drink, and yummy over ice! People here drink it iced or hot. We put our feet in the Strait of Malacca -- the southern-most point on the continent of Asia, and the busiest shipping lane in the world! Had to dip in the feet just so we could say that we have -- water is warm!! Then we took in the Musical Fountain -- a laser light show on dancing waters. Ron got a few movie shots on our camera, and they're fun. Hope you can see them when we return. Then we took a Riverboat Cruise on a Bantam -- a Chinese boat. It was dark, and the ride took us through the center of Singapore -- downtown. The boats were old and creaky, but a part of the charm. We took pictures of the Merlion -- a huge statue that is part lion and part mermaid -- folklore here. He spits water- a huge fountain. The water lands in the river. On the way back to the car, they took us through a 6-star hotel. It has a huge koi pond inside, orchids everywhere, and the bathroom sinks are clear glass bowls. Orchids in the bathrooms too! Guess that's how "the other half" lives! So far we have:

* Written all the presentations we have presented here.

* Preached sermons in 3 churches

* Spoken at the Power Center 8 nights

* Spoken at the Power Center 3 Sabbaths

* 20 minute Sabbath School presentation -- Nancy

* Spoken 2 hours for counselors at Center for Children at Risk

* Spoken to Social Workers -- 6 hours

* Taught 2 Facilitator Training sessions

* Counseled (8) eight hours a day, for 2 days

* Had various counseling sessions in between other appointments

* Made 5 full sets of DVD's of the 22 weeks (printed on Discs, put them in containers, designed, printed and inserted covers.

* As above with 5 sets of BTW Seminar.

* Put workbooks in PDF file and then onto CD's with covers designed, printed and inserted.

* Worked on "The Journey"

* We have slept and eaten, gone to SilLim Tower, had suits made and picked up a few things to take home.

* Talked daily with Vic in Pa and written e-mails to various people including the round-robin such as you are currently reading. Yet to Do

* 4 Evening presentations for Power Center Mtgs.

* 1 hour Sabbath presentation for the Power Center Mtgs.`

* Training of the Teachers at the SDA Schools -- 3 hours.

* Several counseling sessions

* Nancy -- Luncheon and presentation for Pastor's wives.

* Get the bean recipe from the President along with the beans!

* Pack to return -- a challenge!

* Fly home. Singapore>Tokyo>Portland>Minneapolis>Phoenix.

Pray for us!!! We tried to shorten the trip, but we cannot. UGH! The attendance at the meetings is increasing, and the interest in the follow-up BTW meetings is fantastic. We trained 73 facilitators today and last Thursday about 24. We are hoping that the recovery experience that we know and have enjoyed ourselves, will bless this crowded and needy island! God is in charge. WE ARE GRATEFUL!

Ron and Nancy have been invited by the Center for the Study of Parental Acceptance and Rejection at the University of Connecticut and the Turkish Psychological Association, to present at the First International Congress on Interpersonal Acceptance and Rejection being held June 22-24 in Istanbul, Turkey. They were invited to present an abstract for consideration by the governing board. Encouraged to submit the abstract by Dr. Ronald and Nancy Rohner, who have studied Parental rejection for 45 years in 200 cultures worldwide, and by the board of Life Renewal Institute, Ron and Nancy wrote, submitted, and awaited a reply. Word arrived on March 5th from Dr. Fatos Erkman of the Turkish Psychological Association, that their abstract has been accepted for oral presentation at the convention. Members of the LRI board feel that this invitation will put the work of LRI on a different and more influential and international level. We are all grateful for the opportunity granted for the Rockeys to have the privilege of presenting to professionals working in the field of parental rejection, and becoming charter members of this worldwide association.