Attitude of Gratitude

Thanksgiving Day.  So many have said so much, anything I can add may seem trite, but give thanks I must.  My mother taught me well, and I'm grateful.  My best friend lived in the same town where we attended church.  She would often invite me to Sunday dinner.  I'd stay with her and go home again with my parents after the evening service.  Even though the visits were so frequent, I called her parents my second parents, I never neglected to say thanks for their hospitality.  Connie's mother would get this smirk on her face when I got ready to leave the house.  She knew what was coming.  I would say thanks and she would nod and smile.

Looking back makes me grateful for all my parents taught me.  Most important, they taught me about Jesus.  I was a freshman in college before I realized I didn't know the Christ I intended to proclaim to the world.  But, all that attendance in Sunday School, church, youth group, Youth for Christ meetings, summer camps, memorizing thousands of Bible verses, and participating in Christmas plays finally bore fruit when the knowledge I had in my head went to my heart.

A lot of the things they taught me were just quick little comments to events occurring around us.  I was terrified of my sixth grade teacher.  It was his second year of teaching after he left the Marines.  Anyone who has any experience in teaching knows you are stricter in discipline when first starting out, so we bore the brunt of his military training.  Daddy told me I couldn't expect to get through life without someone looking down their nose at me.  That's saved me a lot of grief over the years.

When one (or more) of the neighbors had their midnight screaming fights because he came home drunk and she lit into him, Mother would tell you, "You might trap a man, but you won't keep him if you do."  Everyone of those couples had shotgun weddings.  It's one of the reasons I wrote the book I did.  I hope to continue to get her message out.

Who in America is not grateful to live in this wonderful country?  I've been privileged to visit or live in 29 of the 50 states and have friends or family in the rest of them.  Yes, we have our troubles, but Tony Blair had it right when he said it's the only country other people are trying to escape to instead of from.  I've lived in other countries and while each had their unique stamp on things, I was glad to get home.  I have to admit, though, I'm NOT grateful when someone escapes the cruelty of their own country, only to propagate it here.

I'm grateful I grew up in a day and time when education was teaching reading, writing, and arithmetic instead of political correctness indoctrination.  I'm grateful beyond words that we're working hard in our school to teach our boys in a way that will make them productive citizens in our world.  Most of the boys come to our school because they just couldn't adjust or make it in a public school-we're kind of a last ditch effort on their behalf.  At some point in their lives all of them will call the pastor to express their gratitude for Shiloh.  Even those who didn't learn the lesson or couldn't stay will say they're grateful for what they learned and sorry for what they chose not to learn.

Bob and I are nearing 51 years of marriage.  We have two fantastic sons, two daughters-in-law that we love enough to call daughters, five wonderful grandchildren, including our granddaughter-in-law, and a precious great grandson.  God has blessed us so very richly with every one of them.  We reared our sons to do even better than their parents and they've done it, making us proud as well as grateful.  At times, their astuteness and intelligence amazes us.  When Mark got his first big promotion, Bob asked, "How'd you get so smart?"  He was joking-maybe.  When Dan's family visited, I was amazed at how beautifully he conversed with his 18 year old son.

After the boys left home, our empty nest continued to be filled with love and laughter, just enjoying each other.  Something that was often interrupted with two rowdy boys, a variety of pets, and a myriad of moves to contend with.  The moves continued, but that gave us just each other to cling to in a new environment.  Until we got Sheila 6 1/2 years ago.  I can't say I'm sorry we went 23 years without a pet, but our "caustie" (an expensive cross between Cocker Spaniel and Australian Shepherd) has brought so much laughter to us.  At the moment, she's scratching my arm, telling me it's time to pay attention to her, so suffice it to say, words fail in expressing my gratitude for all the blessings I've received the past 71 years.

Blessings to you, too.

OOPS-again

Yesterday, as I read I Peter 2, somehow I got it in my mind that God was calling us precious in verses, but on a more careful examination of those verses this morning, I realized my error.  In both cases, God the Father is calling Jesus the living Stone as precious.

I'm not disappointed, just embarrassed.  Taking a verse out of context, such as was recently done by our President is one thing, but misunderstanding can be just as bad.  And, so, to my one follower, I apologize.

I'm not disappointed because my search of the Scriptures over a one year period gave me 43 double columned pages that told me God loves us, cares for us, and is worthy of our love, obedience, and worship.  It was during that time of study that  I came across Zephaniah 3:17.  I'd seen part of that verse quoted on many occasions-the part that says He rejoices over us with singing.  It was the fact that He quiets me with His love that grabbed my heart and has held it fast for the past 18 months. That verse is quoted in every book I autograph.  It's often been said that the best way to tell others about Jesus is to tell what He's done for me.  I want others to know He wants to do the same for them.

Amazing

It never ceases to amaze me at how great God is.  He is perfect and yet, He sees us, with all our faults and foibles as "precious."  (I Peter 1:4)  That blows me away.  Zephaniah 3:17 has become very precious to me over the past 18 months.  I still find it hard to believe He "takes great delight in me," quiets me with His love," and "rejoices over me with singing."

So often, I'm bound up by all my faults and foibles, I forget to focus on Him.  When I do that, I play right into the enemy's hands.  And then, God, in His amazing tender goodness, gives me a verse of Scripture to remind me that He still loves me.  What a relief!  What a joy!  To know that I am loved in spite of myself is just too wonderful for words.

I was just reminded in Luke 5:5 that Peter said, "because You say so."  Jesus told him to let down his nets.  They'd fished all night and caught nothing, but because Jesus said so, Peter let down his nets and caught so many fish, he was overwhelmed and humbled to be in Jesus' Presence.  It's kid of like that for me.  Because Jesus says so, God loves me, considers me precious, quiets me with His love, and rejoices over me with singing. He said it, I believe it.  Thank You, Lord.

My 2 cents worth.

Every year at this time, I hear moans, groans, and complaints about Christmas coming earlier each year.  To be honest, the earlier the celebrating starts, the less the holiday feels special.  However, just because people shop for Christmas long before December doesn't mean they "feeling it" or celebrating it.

Personally, Christmas is my favorite time of year.  I cannot hear Christmas carols often enough. They fill me with joy and peace.  I've often said that when stores no longer decorate or play Christmas carols they're shooting themselves in the foot.  It's their one chance to make their year profitable, if they have not already done so.  But, I've come to the conclusion that carols do more than just give me the desire to shop.  They make me feel like all's well in the world.  The lift my spirit in a way no other song can.  Celebrating the birth of the King of kings, the Prince of Peace, how can it do anything else?

I do agree that carols before Thanksgiving are a bit much and can make the actual day anti-climatic. Stores decorating and playing carols began the day after Thanksgiving when I was growing up.  It's a tradition I love to this day.  In church, carols began with one the Sunday after Thanksgiving, two the following Sunday, three the Sunday after that, and all carols the Sunday before Christmas. Floridian churches don't do that and I miss it.

But, getting back to the shopping.  I begin that early for good reason (s).  First, it makes it possible to spend more on each person I buy for without breaking the December budget.  It also makes for a calmer holiday.  The packages are purchased and wrapped, allowing me to get other things done without feeling like I'm going to collapse on Christmas morning.  Giving to others is a part of me that I refuse to squelch.  I believe it's a spiritual gift that needs to be enhanced.  Of course, I could also do more than the Lord wants-and probably do, but somehow it all works out.

In conclusion, I agree that decorations and carols in the store before Thanksgiving are unnecessary, but I'll be out there, purchasing treasures for those I love and ignoring the naysayers.   I'd wish you a Merry Christmas, but it's before Thanksgiving.  

Now that's funny

For some strange reason, I began to think about some of our moves over the past 51 years.  33 to be exact.  Sometimes funny things happened, sometimes annoying, sometimes downright disgusting. The time that came to mind this morning is funny now, well, I guess I was laughing then, too.

Bob's company moved us to Smithville, Tennessee from Dalton, Georgia, and then put him on the road.  Come to think of it, they did that a lot.  The house we'd purchased was out a country road, ten miles from town and over 100 yards from the nearest neighbor.  We didn't know a soul, except for the Realtor who sold us the place and the people we bought it from.

Since Bob was on the road so much and I didn't know anybody, I decided to drive to Pittsburgh one autumn week to see my folks and the son of the friend who'd joined the Pittsburgh Boy Choir.  It was a delightful week away from the loneliness,  but I had to go home sometime.

The trip back wasn't quite as nice as the trip there.  It poured buckets somewhere around Knoxville. It was so hard, the rain splashed off the road and hid the tail lights of the Greyhound bus I was following.  If  you know anything about Greyhound buses, you know they allow no grass to grow under their tires.  I was determined to keep up.  I figured he'd let me know if there were any road hazards ahead.  80 MPH in rain so hard I couldn't see the tail lights is not exactly a safe thing to do, but the Lord brought me home safely.

There was a message on the phone when I got back.  "You're going to die.  Tonight.  The both of you."  Not exactly the welcome home I was anticipating.  I figured it was teens making doing a prank call, but I still called the police and informed them of the situation.  Bob wasn't due home for another week.

I slept, but did so lightly.  About midnight, the sound of a car going by on the road wakened me.  I got up to check the house and discovered in one of the spare bedrooms a blinking red light facing the road! Dan had a lamp that the base could be used as a night light.  When the bulb burned out, he replaced it with a red one and the move had loosened it.  Can you imagine what the police thought as they drove by to check on my safety, only to find a blinking red light in my bedroom window?  Blush.

Happy birthday, Brother

A happy (belated) birthday to my brother, Art.  Sorry, my bad for not mentioning it yesterday.  I'm proud and pleased with all my family tree, from it's earliest roots to the youngest-great grandson, Elijah.

We've been around a long time, Brother, Dear.  I'll take pity on you and say you're six years older than me, but I won't mention our ages.  Oh, wait.  That means I'm taking as much pity on me as I am on you, doesn't it?

I'm not one of those who's ashamed of my age.  By the time you get to 7+ decades, what's the point of denying it?  We did have one aunt whose son said she'd changed her birth date on her birth certificate so many times, it could no longer be read.  I understand an actress did the same thing.  Why?

Now, telling my weight is another story entirely.  NOT going there.  Let's go back to you, Brother, whom (who?) I'm trying to celebrate.  I love it when we have long conversations about our past.  We have good laughs about different things.  And, we have stories that would make younger people awe struck.

How did we get along in early childhood winters without a water heater?  Mom boiled water and poured it into the bathtub, adding enough cool water that made the bath pleasant rather than too cold or too hot.  Remember those little gas heaters in each room, that never did much for keeping us warm?

One of the earliest memories of you is when you came to the neighbors where I was playing with friends, telling me I needed to come home.  The new refrigerator arrived and we were going to make ice cubes!  Before that, we had an old wooden ice box.  I vaguely remember the ice man bringing a big block of ice each week.  I'm sure we both have many memories of Dad letting a small stream of water run all night in an effort to keep the lines from freezing.  When even that didn't work, he'd use a blow torch.

I'm sure you remember the Christmases we had at Velma's.  Especially the year we were playing hide and seek in her big old farmhouse.  Janet and I were hiding from you, Duane, Bill and any other male relative whose name and presence I've forgotten.  We hid behind the drapes in the parlor.  One of you came in the room, interrupted the adults talking, commenting you saw our shoes but couldn't find us! The adults choked back laughter until we finally had to be called from our hiding place.

Then, there was the time that Duane got a jeep that broke.  You and Bill fixed it.  Ran better than ever.  Acted like a real jeep, climbing over books on the floor among other obstacles, rolled over and kept on going when it fell off something.  Maybe that's where they got the idea for the Energizer Bunny.  That jeep sure did go.

I'm sure you remember the day the house caught fire.  You'd just come home from being out in the woods, when you smelled smoke.  The chimney caught the wall on fire.  Fortunately, it wasn't a bad one.  Mr. Bowland came up and beat it out with his hands.  That night, it was all hands on deck while Dad fireproofed the area where the fire started.

When I was in college, I have fond memories of you and Joan coming to the school to get me.  Mom and Dad would meet us at your place, saving them the trip all the way to New York.  Then, there's the time you deliberately put a diaper in my luggage when we returned from Germany because I accidentally left one at your place on the way to Germany.  That's one superstition that seemed to work.  You got Lisa and we got Dan.

Do you remember how Mom and Dad got their first TV?  Do you remember telling Mom about your mother-in-law's TV that had a tube blow every six months until she got tired of replacing the tubes and bought another TV.  We lugged that thing home and it was the family TV until Mom and Dad got tired of the same thing.  I was 19 and a sophomore in college before we had a TV and pretty sure I was married before they replaced it.

Good memories, Brother.  We lived in the real world, learning to cope.  Mom and Dad would be proud, I'm sure.

Announcement

I informed my husband this morning if he has the audacity to precede me in death, my first action will be to destroy all computers.  Well, not the car or the washer and dryer, but certainly this demon possessed instrument of torture.

Someone, somehow, somewhere is messing with this machine and this machine sends it on to my head.  The past two days, a notice has blocked my getting my emails or using this site.  Clicking on "NO" does nothing but send me to the next page I would have received if I had pressed "YES."  What part of "NO" don't these mad computer hacking geeks living in Mama's basement understand? Even Bob can't get it off.  He "restored" something this morning in an effort to clear it up so I can get on and do an early morning rant.  Let's see if that works any better than yesterday's effort.

Yesterday, he said the settings had been changed, but he didn't know how.  Ain't that just dandy?  The older my parents became, the more frustrated they became with the world.  It changes so rapidly and we old foggies can't keep up.  OK, so it all boils down to operator error.  Please don't say that in my presence.  I'm quite liable to express my frustrations in a way that will make you wonder why I call myself a Christian.  My neurologist says I have "poor coping strategies."  He doesn't know the half of it.

I have a friend who said computers frustrated her so much she gave up on them.  Even her smart phone challenges her.  I don't have a smartphone--yet.  Afraid to get one because I fully expect to have the same problems I'm having with the computer.  My friend my have the right idea.  Stay tuned.

More heartburn

Reading FB yesterday, I read  a message from a West Virginia Democrat who is seriously angry about the outcome of the elections.  Her language was foul, crude, and offensive.  My West Virginia mother taught me that foul language indicated a lack of intelligence.  I'm glad she's not here to know how crude our world has become, especially in the state of her birth.  All the West Virginians I know are gentle, kind, gracious, loving, genteel.  Uh, all the West Virginians I know personally.  Evidently, there's a few out there I haven't met in person who are different.

Today, even Christians are using language that would have gotten me severely chastised when I was a child. But, then, had my mother seen what the woman wrote in response to my comment, she'd have chastised me again for not "considering the source."  She's right.  The poor woman who wrote such a vulgar post is full of bitterness, hate, and anger.

Her personal post to me-which the whole world saw-was an attempt to insult me.  Should have see it coming.  Can't tell you how much I hate conflict, but I'm in the middle of it.  We've not only become a world of crudeness, but a world of cruelty.  And that's an improvement?  By whose book?  In spite of all the efforts to stop bullying, it's a thousand times worse than when I was a child.

Bullies believe they have the right to say and do whatever they want, and if you don't agree with them, they'll "hit you with your peace sign" as Bob Hope said so long ago.  Since when did merely disagreeing with someone become a reason for offensive high drama and even conflict?  

I so admire people who are able to point others to Jesus Christ without causing conflict.  Apparently, I'm not one of them.  I wasn't trying to convince her to become a Christian or a Republican, just being a better representative of the views of her political party.  Unless and until the debate becomes more refined and restrained, we're not going to unite as a country.  Trading insults doesn't resolve anything. Maybe that's why Washington is in gridlock.  They haven't wised up to listening, consideration, and courtesy.

I've also come to the conclusion this dear woman is probably full of hate because she's afraid.  But, afraid of what?  Of me?  Someone she'll never meet on this earth?  An almost 71 year old who still has several hundred books to sell just to break even on my publishing costs?  What do I represent to her that makes her afraid?  I have to laugh when I think someone could possibly be afraid of me-God's weakest and whiniest child.  One with absolutely no political clout I might add.

While working for the 2008 election, I remember talking on the phone to a man whose last name was the same as my maiden name.  I mentioned that most of the Pollocks in Pennsylvania were Republican and it interested me in why the Florida Pollocks were Democrats.  My question make him angry.  Why?  I wasn't trying to insult him, but he was compelled to become insulting.  I was only interested in him and his conclusions.  Puzzling.

I suppose it's what I represent that he and the West Virginia woman fears.  I did vote Republican.  Mine was one of the votes cast that took their party and her platform out of power.  I'm not gloating the Republicans won.  Not by an extremely long shot.  There's still the need to trust in the Lord rather than to put confidence in men.  (Psalm 118:8)

My dilemma:  what do I do next?  She'll undoubtedly be even more upset when I responded to her comment that I was "Sarah Palin's halfwit little sister" by saying I have an IQ of 135, more than a bachelor's degree in education, and I'm the older sister.  Check out the white hair.  She's right in one respect.  Sarah Palin's a lightening rod for controversy and apparently, so am I, although I have no desire to be.

I have no quarrel with her.  She lives in a different state, we'll never meet.  If this situation continues the way conflicts have in the past, the Lord will probably convict me for not "considering the source," and convicting me to apologize.  That has frequently softened a tense situation.  If and when the time comes, I'll be grateful that's His desire.  He knows what it will take to open her heart to His love.  He knows my heart and doesn't want it to become bitter, angry, or afraid.  Neither do I.  God's way is always best.

Now, about my potty-mouthed sons and grandchildren.  

Starting over

Ever notice how God cares for you in spite of the things you do to mess yourself up?  Recently, I mentioned that Bob has had his blocked arteries improve dramatically.  That is a miracle.  We are very grateful.

Did I mention how selfishly I took the news?  He's scarfing down Cheetos and garlic butter like there's not tomorrow and has actually improved, while Yours Truly faced the threat of diabetes.  Until yesterday.  I have neuropathies in my feet and the natural assumption is that they're caused by diabetes.

The doctor threw me a curve by ordering the long glucose tolerance test-you know- drinking goop sweet enough to give even me a headache.  Then, blood is drawn periodically over a 2 1/2 hour period.  I was in the hospital 4 1/2 hours.  (Thank you, Obamacare, for all that ridiculous paperwork)  By the time I walked out, I had a headache, a cold sweat, exhausted, and shaking like a leaf.  Hadn't eaten since 9:00 the night before-serious business for someone who eats way too much.  I'm not one of those capable of living off the fat of the land.  Once I get hungry, I eat or I get sick.

Here's where the goodness and grace of God comes in.  Just before I took the test, Sarah Young again touched my heart with her wisdom.  She mentioned that whatever is done to the body can help or hinder the soul.  I've known for years that my reasons for eating too much were spiritually harmful, but somehow, her words had an impact.

When I saw the high numbers on the test, I heard a wake up call-loud and clear.  So, I've begun a new-for the zillionth time, to eat right, exercise, and generally live a healthy life.

Our God is so amazing.  When I saw the doctor yesterday, he announced I do NOT have diabetes!  All my envy of Bob's situation was wasted.  However, all my efforts since I saw the results of the test have not gone to waste.  I feel better this week than I have in a long time.  I know that the power of God is there for me to do the right thing.  I also know how weak I am.  Pray for me that this is the last time I've started over.  Stay tuned.

Praise the Lord

Here's where I cause heartburn in some, delight in others, misunderstanding in still more.  It was so refreshing to know that many in this country, not just the conservatives (Nazis according to Nancy Pelosi, crazies, according to Harry Reid, racists according to Al Sharpton) are fed up with the direction of this country.

Let me hasten to add the best political advice I ever heard was from a black professor at Moody Bible Institute.  "It's time to put trust in Almighty God instead of almighty government."  How right he is. In fact,  Psalm 118:8&9 have become my political mantra.  "It is better to trust in the Lord than to put confidence in men.  It is better to trust in the Lord than to put confidence in princes."

Scripture commands us to give thanksgiving and praise in everything.  Even in politics, no matter what other people think, no matter the outcome.  And, I am grateful.  God was so abundant in providing different leadership. However, Scripture also talks of Israel having good kings and rebellious people.  In order for government to work, there must be both good leadership and "followership."   Whether or not we have that remains to be seen.

Whether or not the new leadership can turn this country around also remains to be seen.  Warning signs are all over the place that it will not happen.  Many believe this is but a slight reprieve and American cannot return to the greatness it once had.  A Baptist pastor once said if God does not punish America, he owes Sodom and Gomorrah an apology.  The more I get into writing about immorality in our churches, the more I agree with him.

Having said all that, my prayer for years has been Lord, keep me faithful.  Keep me grateful.  Good, bad or otherwise in the circumstances is not what I'm to depend on.  I am to depend on Almighty God.  He is worthy of praise.  I have to be honest though,  and admit maybe I'm a little more grateful this time.  

Fear not

This morning, during my devotions, I read about Jacob's return home and how terrified he was to face his brother and the 400 men with him.  Jacob prayed and God intervened, making his fears unfounded.

That took me back many, many years when I was working graveyard at a Dunkin Donuts in Arizona. Every Saturday night, this big, blonde, Southern farm boy turned army sergeant would stagger in after the NCO Club closed on base.  His demand never changed.  Coffee, a Bavarian Creme, and a fork.  The only person I ever met who ate his donut with a fork.  His drunken belligerence was intimidating, to say the least.  One night, I was busy and didn't hear his demands for something, and he made a really nasty remark about my ignoring him.  (I think I forgot the fork.) When the boss and his wife came in, I mentioned it to the boss' wife. "Feel free to call the police if you think he's going to cause trouble," was her immediate response.

"I have the feeling he'd tear the place apart if I did that," I replied.

The next week, a woman who used to work at the NCO Club sat down beside him. She recognized him and they began to talk.  After he left, I asked her if she knew him.  I mentioned the previous behavior and my concern.  "Oh, yes, he'd tear this place apart.  I saw him do it one night at the club when the bar tender refused to serve him anymore."  Not a very comforting response to my question.

The following Saturday night (about 1:30 a.m. really), I saw him get out of his car and move toward the door in his typical unsteady gait.  I'll fix your wagon.  I poured his coffee, put his donut on a plate, and set his fork on a napkin beside the plate.

He straddled the stool without looking at what I'd put on the counter for him.  Pulling his hand out of his pocket, he began fiddling with the coins he held before he looked up at me and said, "What can I get for this?"  The change he held wasn't enough to pay for his order, so I asked the baker what we should do.  The coffee was already poured and the donut was already out of the case.

The baker smiled and said, "Tell him it's on the house."  With the biggest smile I could muster and the most polite tone of voice I had, I repeated what the baker said.

Sergeant farm boy muttered a thanks and set upon his donut and coffee.  Unbeknownst to me, his pride was wounded.  He never came back!

Arguing with a drunk is a waste of time.  You're talking to chemicals that can't respond.  Arguing with a bully could get you hurt.  Arguing with a drunken bully is doubly dangerous.  By God's grace alone, the situation was rectified.  Is it any wonder God's Word consistently tells us not to fear?  

Not fair!

Bob and I had blood test done yesterday.  It's been an ongoing thing since he had his stress test that sowed an abnormality.  The heart cath showed nothing wrong, in fact, revealed the blockages he had were reduced.  Beautiful!  I'm so proud of him and happy for the both of us.

However, there's still the issue of fatigue and shortness of breath.  Since the heart test showed no cause, the blood tests were done yesterday and they all came out fine!  Praise the Lord!

Now, here's the unfair part.  I try very hard to watch what I eat and my test results showed a possibility of diabetes!  On the other hand, my beloved lives on cheetos and garlic butter!  How fair is that?