Life's Morsels: BREAKING NEWS!

Life's Morsels: BREAKING NEWS!:      For a moment, one short moment in time, my prayer would be that every living being on this earth, would close their eyes and just ta...

BREAKING NEWS!

   

 For a moment, one short moment in time, my prayer would be that every living being on this earth, would close their eyes and just take a slow deep breath.  As that long drawn breath fills their lungs and restores their body with life sustaining oxygen, that they might also just be quiet and still and allow the whole world to do the same.

     For a moment, one short moment in time, my prayer would be that every living being on this earth, would look around and see the good in everything, not just for themselves but for everyone around them.

     For a moment, one short moment in time, my prayer would be that every living being on this earth, could be at peace with each other.

     For a moment, one short moment in time, my prayer would be that every living being on this earth, could look around them and know that love conquers hate.  Hate is the thorn that festers and spreads.  Forgive those that they have despised and offer a caring hand instead of a spiteful blow.

     BREAKING NEWS - BREAKING NEWS!  This just in!  Rockets soar through the air, bombs destroy homes and businesses, schools.  Entire towns and villages obliterated and landscapes changed forever.  Lives are lost and changed forever.  Tsunamis, tornadoes, hurricanes, landslides, earthquakes, wildfires.  Wars, muggings, murders, gang show downs, innocent people mowed down when a deranged and hateful shooter takes aim.  Lives lost, lives changed, tempers soar out of control and the cycle just keeps going and going and going.  Children orphaned, children lost, families destroyed, and all in the blink of an eye, a split second.

     Growing up, BREAKING NEWS had usually aged a little before it made its way to the television.  Technology, this constantly progressive world of ours, have brought us to the point, that not only are we advised of the catastrophes occurring around us, but we are able to watch them unfurl in living color, vivid gory detail and heart wrenching agony.  Sirens warn of impending catastrophic weather.  Schools are locked down.  Cars swept away in raging waters.  Today, it would seem that the BREAKING NEWS, is in reality, leaving us anxious, fearful, agitated and un-trusting of each other and the world around us.  But yet, life goes on for each of us.  Many of us go on by taking Scarlet's approach to things, "after all, tomorrow is another day".  Many of us go on in faith...

     I've heard young couples talk of being afraid to bring children into a world filled with such turmoil.  It always breaks my heart.  None of us know a day, a time, a place.  To some, it would seem that our world is imploding, literally destroying itself in a constant explosive, hate filled and greed driven quest for power and control.  But wait, just wait.  Look around you.  Look for the good.  Absorb the warmth and love and goodness that IS there!  Maybe it's simply holding a door for someone.  Or maybe, just maybe, that dirty old man in the raggedy clothes, really does just need someone to listen and share that one short moment.  Maybe that person that seems to be a little odd, is struggling to just survive in a world that sees them as an outcast or weird.  A neighbor just lost their job, or has illness in their family, so, share a meal.  Offer some comfort.  Take time to listen and let them know you are there if they need anything.  Share that one short moment.  Open  your arms, your heart.  Give, share, listen, help.  It's not always about money or land or treasures.  More often, it's about letting someone know, that you can listen, that you can be there for them.  Sometimes, it's just about looking for the good and letting your light shine.  Sometimes, it's just about helping someone change their life.  Sometimes, it's just about letting someone know that there is a tomorrow, that it will be okay.  Sometimes, it's just letting someone know that after the darkness, there is light.

     We all have so much in common with each other.  We all started out the same way.  We were all born.  We didn't just magically appear as 25 or 43 or 80.  Our bodies were all miraculously designed to function similarly, some more efficiently than others.  But, our blood is red, our hearts beat, our lungs draw in air.  We all have good days, bad days, moments that we shine, moments that we regret.  None of us is perfect.  Some of us have been plagued by illness or abnormalities, but we all started off the same way.  Whether your life is stimulated by success and money, just getting by or content with simplicity, king or pauper, we all started off the same way.  Whether you are passive, aggressive, outgoing or withdrawn, short, tall, skinny, fat, old, young, blonde, gray, light skin, dark skin, red skin, or ambiguous, none of us is perfect. but we all started off the same way.  And another miracle is that each and everyone of us is unique in our own way.  Each and everyone of us is blessed with gifts and virtues intended just for us.  Sadly, some turn out to be greedy, but others are giving, some needy, some blessed more than others, but we all started life the same way.  We were born.  We live, and from the moment we take our first breath, we begin the journey to our last.  Part of life is death.  It's what we do with all of those days in between, that matters.  It's what defines us.  It's what determines our eternity.  It's what defines our world.

     For a moment, one short moment in time, my prayer would be that every living thing on this earth would close their eyes and take a slow deep breath and then - just listen.  Listen to the silence, the sounds of peace.  Listen to the sounds of a bird singing, a cricket choir, the wind rustling through the leaves.  Listen to the subtle sound of their own heart beating and know that it is a miracle, a God given miracle.  With fists un-clenched, reach out for  the one closest to you.  Let them do the same and keep it going until there is not one that stands alone, not one that isn't part of the endless miracle of beating hearts, hands together, lives together, sharing that one short moment in time.  Now, that my friend, is BREAKING NEWS that we could all celebrate and rejoice. Remember, God never promised us it would be easy or perfect or without pain, illness, sorrow or fear.  But, God did promise to always be there...

     Psalm 37:24  "Though they stumble, they will not fall, for the Lord holds them by the hand."

     Please join me - for that a moment, that one short moment in time, and pray with me that every living thing on this earth would close their eyes, take that slow deep breath - and listen to the sounds of peace, bask in the glory and goodness and let it restore you.

     Breaking news shouldn't always have to be bad...wouldn't it be wonderful, wouldn't it just be wonderful if that one short moment in time really happened and then turned into a lifetime...

God bless us all and guide us as we journey through all of the days to come,

K


   

   


   

Life's Morsels: For Skyler - Poop Cookies and Wonder Dog - Always ...

Life's Morsels: For Skyler - Poop Cookies and Wonder Dog - Always ...: We said goodbye to our little wonder dog this morning.  Sept 1, 2000 - July 2, 2014.  15 pounds of fuzz and fiesty and the best little dog e...

For Skyler - Poop Cookies and Wonder Dog - Always In My Heart...

We said goodbye to our little wonder dog this morning.  Sept 1, 2000 - July 2, 2014.  15 pounds of fuzz and fiesty and the best little dog ever.  I decided to re-post his story from 4 years ago.

Poop Cookies and Wonder Dog!

"Before I shed light on the title, how about a little history.

Nine and a half years ago, a little 2 pound fuzzball showed up on our front porch as a gift for my daughter. It was a Shitzu puppy, maybe 6 weeks old, cute as a button and stubborn as the day is long. Cuteness and cuddlyness kind of made us overlook the massive puddles of pee and the oopses in the house on the rug. Well, at least for a while. Training and more training and countless rolls of paper towels and floor cleaner have led us to where we are now - still dealing with the occasional lake in the dining room (nowadays, we blame it on the water pills).

He's a fuzzball! He is a rambunctious, opinionated, diabolical, four legged hairy kid.

A lot of rain or no rain at all is par for the course for living in the south. Good or bad, we can't control it so we deal with it. We have no other choice. However, my cuddly little four legged schemer, hates to get his little feet wet and further more, will absolutely no way ever in my lifetime or his, walk into dewey wet grass or through a puddle. Heaven forbid. Can't keep him out of the bathtub, but, hey, that's playtime! Puddles and wet grass are not a part of his vocabulary. So, we began a reward system for when he was a "good boy" and did his business outside, rain or shine. Hence, the "poop cookies". Trust me, he knows, too. He only gets a treat when he does what he is supposed to do. When we come in, he will stand in front of the counter and bark at the yellow bag with those tasty poop rewards, until he has received the ultimate treat. Spoiled, no, not the least bit.

For the first 2 or 3 years of his life, he was my daughter's dog. Now she has 200 pounds worth of four legged attitude of her own in her home with her husband. So, the fuzzball became my "baby".

Last fall, we began to realize that he was showing serious signs of growing old and very quickly. He has a heart murmur and a heart that so large that it puts pressure on his trachea and sometimes he "hurks" because it is hard to breathe. We are working on that. I love this little dog. He is my secret buddy. I can tell him things that are my deepest thoughts and secrets and really know that they stay with him. I will really miss him when he is gone.

Recently, his coughing has become worse, but then again, anyone with lungs is suffering due to our sweltering 90 degree plus heat and humidity. We talked about what to do and felt like maybe it was time to make a decision about the one way trip to the vet. The fact that I had just read "The Art of Racing in The Rain" didn't help with my emotions, and I spent literally a whole weekend, cuddling this sweet little dog on my lap (oh, can't forget the rocking, he loves to be rocked). He seemed as if he was ready. Deep, starring glances from his eyes, led me to believe that it really was time, or so we thought.

Picture us, driving to the vet, tearful, emotional, loving on my little hairy kid. We sat quietly in the waiting room, of course, with him cuddled on my lap. It was our turn and we made our way to the exam room, where he was carefully placed on the table. (Had to be careful, he is very delicate). Temperature first and those big bulging eyes about popped out of his head! He had been violated! Gained a couple pounds, maybe the result of too many poop cookies???? Hmm...

In walks, what we think is absolutely the greatest vet in the world and this little guy just loves her. My forlorn, pitiful puppy proceeded to stand up, lick her chin and bark playfully at his favorite doggie doc. One look at me with a smile, and she simply said, "mom, it's not time yet". He still has a lot of life left in him.

Now, having read the book that I did, I had it in my mind that my little dog understood every word that was being said and took it all to heart. On the trip home, he stood and looked out the window, barked at people in cars next to us and ran in the house like there was no tomorrow. I think he needed to hear what she said as well. The toy basket got tipped over and over the course of the next hour, he played with every toy that he owned. Running up and down the hallway made him cough, but he is also starting to figure out that he will stop coughing if he lays on his side. This is a smart dog! It has been like this since the vet trip. It's great. He has an amazing will to live.

Well enough of that, back to the poop cookies. Again, Georgia being Georgia, and weather prognosticators being as inept as they can be, the only real way you know if you are going to get rain down here is to walk outside and see if it is raining - which it did Tuesday night for hours and hours. It was great! Wednesday morning, dog walking, puddles, attitude, escape attempts back to the house - I knew if this little pooch didn't go potty, he would pop! Side ways glances at me when I MADE him walk into the wet grass were venom filled and there it was, all of a sudden, you could see him formulating a plan. I was in trouble! Look left, look right and a bee line made for the end of the driveway. My fears were that he was going to do something really stupid like dart out in the road. Nope, not him. He was in revenge mode in the soggy wet outdoors. Before I could get to him and scoot his little body over into the grass, he took position in the middle of the driveway and left us a present that will not soon be forgotten. He turned around and looked at me and sneered! Yes, he did! He was back in the house before I could clean up the mess, and there he sat, in front of the counter and the magical yellow bag, barking his head off.

At first, the whole thing wasn't funny. Now, I can't help but smile when I replay the whole thing in my mind. It was smart, it was calculated and it was spiteful! So, guess what I did. I gave him a poop cookie and now he's happy."

Goodbye Wonder Dog!  Love you, RIP...you fought a good fight, touched a lot of hearts and made us all very happy.

first published June 27, 2010...

Life's Morsels: Down To The River...

Life's Morsels: Down To The River...: A single drop of water is a miracle.  It's full of life.  When there are many, they can help to restore life when things have withere...

Down To The River...

A single drop of water is a miracle.  It's full of life.  When there are many, they can help to restore life when things have withered.  They can quench a thirst or provide a good cleansing.  They are full of promise and healing.  People's lives can be forever changed.

In drought stricken parts of our world, water is so scarce.  Children thirst.  Crops wither and the dry ground cracks.  Things that some of us may take for granted, others yearn for...just a few drops, just a few drops.  

At our house, we watch Survivor Man a lot, not my first choice, but my two guys love it, so I persevere.  He has had some interesting ways of collecting water, and always seems to make the best of just a few drops.

Some of his techniques are not what I would want to have to do to survive, but, understood. 

Growing up, I remember many family vacations (usually camping was involved) when we could arrive at our destination with rain not too far behind us.  We brought wet sunshine to many a little town out west or in the mountains.   Wet tents and campers were not a lot of fun.  Daddy used to tell us to not touch the tent or it would leak.  I was always tempted to just try it anyway.  After all, what was one little quick poke at the tent ceiling!  The rains came and we sat under the rain fly or canopy.  Sometimes, we just got wet and other times, my brother and I would pout in the car.  After the rains, the humidity was rough.  Steam rising up from the ground.  Eerie!  I'm pretty sure these were all part of the reason that my mother insisted on a Holiday Inn at least 1 night out of the week.  Nothing like a shower and a soft bed after a week of 25 cents a minute cold showers and sleeping on air mattresses.  Having access to the pool wasn't too bad either.  Most of the campgrounds had a swimming lake or a pool that resembled a frog hatchery.  If you couldn't see through the water, we weren't swimming in it!  

I was never much for swimming in lakes or streams, but sometimes it was the only resource.  At Cades Cove in the Smokey Mountains, there was a stream that flowed through the campground.  Pretty shallow, and a great place to cool off.  That same stream weaves its way through the mountains and connects with the river that runs into Gatlinburg.  My husband likes to tell the story of the day I slid off a rock and into that river, waist deep in freezing cold spring water.  I was wearing a dress, by the way.  Made it that much more comical for him, and all because I was trying to see the trout in the river.

Water!  A drop here and a drop there...thinking about floating on my back in the pool and just starring up at the sky above.  So peaceful, so free.  Your imagination could run wild just thinking about the possibility of floating among the clouds.  Remember swimming under water and opening your eyes for the first time?  Cloudy at first, but things were so magnified and seemed to move at a slow motion pace.

All these are wonderful memories that I cherish.  The past few days, my thoughts about water and its power, were because of a picture posted by a dear friend.  She is happily stretched out in a chair that's plopped right in the middle of a waterfall.  The cool water is rushing around her and the big smile on her face says it all.  Healing cool water, miracles rushing around her.  When I saw the picture, all I could think of was the song "Down To The River To Pray" by Alison Krauss.  Mitzi's story is incredible and with her permission, I want to share part of of it with you, one - because she is an inspiration and a strong faithful woman of God, but two, because she needs your prayers and encouragement for her for the days ahead.  After years of illness and pain due to several chronic health issues, a diagnosis of Ankylosing Spondylitis, fibro myalgia and what seems to be an endless list, she has remained strong, determined and ever hopeful.  Her faith in God has never waned and in spite of her own health problems, she was always thinking of someone else's needs, including mine.  Posters came last summer with instructions to put them up in my Dad's hospital room to make it bright and cheery.  When teacher gifts were needed for her son's school, she made them.  If a neighbor or church family member needed a meal to help out or just a ride somewhere, she took care of it.  Now, it's our turn to help her.  She needs us to be the prayers and encouragement for her.  Mitzi was just diagnosed with an aggressive Chronic Lymphocytic Leukemia.  Even with this new scary diagnosis and the tests and treatments that will follow, her first thoughts were of having a good summer with her family and of friends that are ill.

Today has been one of those rainy summer days.  Escaping the rain and ducking inside provided me a few moments of quiet, such a blessing.  Memories of splashing through puddles and sailing little plastic boats down the street, listening to the sound of the rain on the roof, all of it good stuff!  For me with my new garden, that growing world outside my window seemed to just explode.  All of the plants seem to be looking up to Heaven and opening up to take in all of the life giving water.  

When you have a rainy day or you are blessed with a refreshing dip in the pool, or jumping rocks at the creek, take a moment to say a prayer.   As you have your quiet time, your prayer time, please add prayers for Mitzi and her family.  Pray for her healing, her strength, her courage and peace.  She truly is born again of the water and the spirit and a miraculous and inspiring woman.

"As I went down in the river to pray, studying about that good ol' way, and who shall wear the starry crown?  Good Lord show me the way!  O sisters, let's go down, let's go down, come on down.  O sisters let's go down, down in the river to pray."

Love you Mitzi...

K

Life's Morsels: Glistening! Seriously?

Life's Morsels: Glistening! Seriously?: Couple of weeks ago, I had the honor of providing the decor for an art show in our area.  Along with my buddy, the chuppah frame and fabric,...

Glistening! Seriously?

Couple of weeks ago, I had the honor of providing the decor for an art show in our area.  Along with my buddy, the chuppah frame and fabric, a virtual greenhouse full of fresh and silk flowers, we turned their buffet tables into an inviting "walk through the garden".  It really was very pretty, even if I do say so myself, but perhaps the most wonderful comment of the whole evening was when a board member walked up and asked if we were the ones that were responsible for the decor.  His comment was "beautiful, better than all of the art and exhibits at the show".  Of course, we were quite pleased and beamed with pride, maybe even giggled a little, as we headed out to dinner.

The facility that hosts this show every year (I've done the decor three times now and already booked for next year), is a stunning performing arts center with 3 story glass windows across the front.  They help create an atrium effect for the lobby.  HOWEVER, that's 3 stories of western sun exposure from early afternoon until that sun sets~and it makes for a VERY warm though be it, a beautiful lobby.  Trust me, there is no escape from the sun or the heat, either, unless you duck into one of the side wings or hang out in the restroom.  You could probably even fry an egg on the lovely floor, not something I plan to try any time soon!

Heat!  Glaring, toasty, relentless heat warms up those 3 story panes of glass and then slowly sinks in the sky, mocking every one of the visitors as they all seek out relief and shade.

Flowers submit their fresh perkiness to wilting distress very quickly.  I'm so glad that I keep a large collection of assorted silk flowers.  But, it sure is nice to have the fresh ones.  

Much to my despair and sanity, the 3 to 4 weeks prior to this event, I had a wonderful case of poison ivy.  Only a few of those dastardly spots actually appeared on my skin.  The rest of them decided that they would hang out in my eyes, ears, nose and just under the surface of my skin.  They called it a "systemic" reaction!  I was totally an itch-fest!  Adding insult to injury, I ended up with hives as well as the poison ivy and was pretty much going crazy from both.  Finally caved in and went to the doctor which netted me 3 weeks worth of double strength steroids.  Now, I am normally a Type A personality, the Energizer Bunny, Ricochet Rabbit.  You get the point.  I am not ever still, and I go until I drop.  So, you add that to the double strength steroids, well, I was pretty much a whirling dervish.  One evening, we were sitting outside on the back of the truck.  I guess my behavior was beyond bananas and my husband reached over and touched my leg and told me to "STOP IT"!  My cup runneth over with frenzy and blabbering.  Steroids, good stuff for the poison ivy, bad stuff for the rest of me, and apparently, anyone around me.

As if hyper-ness wasn't bad enough, there is one other really annoying side effect to the steroids.  Seems like they make your blood boil and mercy, I can't even begin to describe the hot flashes that follow.  Time released agony.  Every 2 to 3 hours, I would turn beet red and feel like I needed to put one arm out as the handle and the other as the spout.  I was a human tea kettle.  At home is one thing, out in public is entirely another.  At my age, hot flashes make the occasional appearance anyway, but they were child's play compared to the searing heat and the waterfalls that were happening now.  Three ingredients all added up that made being in public very uncomfortable - Type A, Steroids and Hot Flashes.  I was quite the conversation piece.

There is no way, absolutely no way, that you can disguise a hot flash.  You start off fanning yourself while everyone else around you seems to be cool and comfortable.  Then, with little warning, here comes that first trickle slowly rolling down the back of your neck.  You feel beads meandering around on your scalp, and sure enough, your forehead joins the party, and next thing you know,  the Niagara falls (not one, but both) decide to come flowing down from absolutely every square inch of you from the neck up!  OMG!  Very lady like!  Not!  People stare.  They totally know what's going on and politely keep their discovery to themselves, that is, until they walk away.  I would just about bet that when they are far away from earshot, and away from your drenched misery, there are muffled giggles at your expense and you become the topic of conversation!  "Bless your heart!"  It's totally a Southern thing, you know.  A polite way of  saying "you poor fool, better you than me).  Bless your heart is right up there with y'all and mom'n'em and grits, all of which are part of my southern transplant life now, and I love them all!

Back-tracking a little, if you've read my recent blog, then you know that I have become a gardener.  I love it, I work in the garden every single day.  It's become a passion.  Mornings are cooler, evenings are mosquito laden but, no matter what time of day, I get soaking wet when I'm out there playing in the dirt again.  But, I still love it, and out there, it's just me!  Working out in the garden and experiencing this drenching event, is one thing.  Being in public and with little to do to hide and justify the insane torrents of salty liquid flowing down my forehead and into my eyes, is entirely another.  

TV advertises all sorts of "cooling" aids.  The models wearing them all look so cool, calm and unaffected as they portray someone that is overheated.  Oh, give me a break!  Don't even think about those cute little neck wraps with the magic beads.  You know the ones I'm talking about.  You soak them in cold water and tie the drippy thing around your neck.  They work just fine unless you're already at boiling point and then they just heat up and turn into steam!

Back to the art show.  The first 2 hours, I was there working solo.  I unloaded the car, organized everything, sorted the fabric, put the chuppah together, unboxed the fresh flowers and put them in buckets of ice water (which I toted 2 gallons at a time from the kitchen in the facility).  I was working hard, not stopping for anything, because I had a lot to get done and no help arriving until after 2:00.  I had to hustle!  And then, oh me oh my, then, the gusher started.  I was stooped down and leaning over a box full of silk flowers when it sneaked up on me.  First, it was 1 timid little drop, ever so determined, and it slowly rolled down the back of my neck.  Gave me a little shiver, but it didn't sway me from my task.  Then, it decided WITHOUT consulting with me, that it was going to invite its friends to join in.  First the forehead, then my head, and at that point, it was all water over the dam, literally!  There was so much moisture taking advantage of my crouched position, that looking through the lenses on my glasses was a little like wearing a diving mask, but with the water on the inside!  Oh my stars, not now!  Bad Prednisone, bad, bad, bad!  No escaping it, it was on me like mosquitoes on a humid night!

I tried the wet towel on the neck thing.  I even went into the kitchen and soaked my cute little bead filled neck wraps.  First one, then the other.  I switched them back and forth from my neck and re-soaked them.  Futile effort.  Before I knew it, I looked like someone had held a garden hose over my head or I had run through the sprinkler and I was soaked from the top my head to the tips of my toes.  As long as no one was in there to see this spectacle, I figured I was able to dodge the embarrassment and scrutiny. Doesn't it just figure that my solitude was short lived and soon, there were 2, 5, then 10 people milling around and every single one of them came up to greet me.  Everyone of them, pretty well, focused on my forehead and the wet towel slung around my neck.  I knew what they were looking at, those dang-blasted beads of water rolling down my face.  I wanted to find an air conditioned hole to burrow into and hide until this time released torture ended.  A couple asked if I was okay...could they get me some cold water, did I need to sit down, and my one word response was simply "Prednisone"!  I guess I gave them all something to kibitz about after they retreated to their own tasks.

Remember, ladies, "ladies don't sweat, they don't perspire, they glisten.  I've got news for who ever came up with that rule!  SWEAT HAPPENS...glisten nothing...when you lose 5 pounds in an hour and feel like you're standing in the pouring rain, that "ain't" glistening!  THAT'S good old, just ran the 100 yard dash in 120 degrees weather, clothes soaked, hair plastered to your head, SWEAT - in any language!  Seriously!  Admit it, sweat happens...to all of us!

Well, help arrived, we finished and I recovered.  We headed to dinner, and neatly tucked into my back pack, was a complete change of clothes.  Quite literally, I was praying that there was no one else in that restroom at the restaurant.  I'd already suffered through a round of steroid revenge at the center.  I sure didn't want to have to explain a total wardrobe change in the restroom with clothes flying in every direction.   I successfully achieved my fresh attired look and I joined my friend for dinner.  It's always a little funny when you get "that" look from other people when I appear in my new wardrobe.  Puzzled expressions on their faces, I kind of figured they were questioning if those were the same clothes I had on when I walked in the door.  Messing with their sanity!  I bet several of you have done this before.  I won't tell.  Our secret!  

Dinner was wonderful, I was feeling fat and sassy, all made even better by my DRY wardrobe, but I knew that the work wasn't over,  The event was ending and there was work still to be done.  All of that stuff had to be taken down, boxed and the car reloaded.  Heavy sigh.  Niagara, here we go again!  So, glisten, seriously!  Perspire, nope.  Sweat, you betcha.  After all, the term "sweat equity" wouldn't exactly sound the same if you called it glistening proactive labor!

The hubs is outside mowing the lawn.  He feels my pain, wasted shower, soaked clothes and salt crusted face.  As for me, I'm thinking a big glass of ice water and sitting under the ceiling fan in the den sounds pretty good!  Have a good night, y'all!

Cool, comfy and chillaxing,

K

My Happy Place!

Events and time...they change us, and then time heals us.  Sometimes we even grow up when we're not even trying.  Next thing you know, subtle little changes have turned into life changing events and we move on to the next chapter in our lives.  Hours turn into days turn into weeks, months and years.  It's  been one of those kind of years.  I guess at 60, I was way overdue for the growing up part, anyway.  I still manage to keep that small mischievous child stashed away for when I need her.  Sometimes, a good game of hide and seek or a loaded squirt gun just make the day special.  Try it.  I promise it will make you smile.

When changes come around, you take a look around you and start taking it all in.  Some of you have been past my house a time or two, and you may remember the 40+ pine trees on our property.  No more!  They would be gone!  Lumber for a new house, pulp for paper, who knows, but they are not in my yard anymore.  They have been replaced with sunshine!  Sunny, hot Georgia is not one of those states that's really prepared for extreme winters.  It is the sunny South after all, and not the snow belt.  For years, we've held our breath and prayed every time it was windy or stormed.  This year, we got clobbered.  Snow is pretty but not when it's combined with ice and freezing rain.  We don't do too well with that down here.  After two winter storms within 2 weeks of each other and icy limbs laying on our roof,  we knew it was time for those pine trees to take a hike.  It wasn't hard at all to make the decision that they had to go.  Most of them were infected with beetles and it was a matter of time before one fell on the house.  It was us, or the trees.  We won.  

Ten days of whirring chain saws, grown men shimmying up trees like monkeys, brush and scrub piled 8' high all around the yard, AND SEVEN logging trucks filled to capacity, gave us a bright sunny yard.  Just one note, though, when you have men in trees with chain saws, they don't necessarily like to go up and down until they absolutely have to.  So if you hear "I gotta pee" coming from about 60 feet up in a tree, trust me, duck and cover!

Soooo, sunny yard and things growing like crazy, Brainiac here, decided "I'm going to plant a garden this year", and I did.  That was the beginning of Squashzilla!

My insistence got my garden tilled, raked, weeded and then all done again, until I had this perfect little garden patch about 10' x 18'.  One would think, just the right size for a few plants for 3 or 4 people.  Nope, I don't do anything small scale and simple.  Small and simple is now 5 gardens and squash is taking over my world!

Each of those tall, lanky pines was growing in a bed that had been cultivated and mulched for years.  Rich, rich dark soil resulted.  My little wheels started spinning and in my mind, I began to see each of those pine tree beds, now home to some huge stumps, as flourishing gardens.  My poor husband just shakes his head.  "One garden is enough!"  Yes, but 4, 5, 8, well that's even better.  Nine rows of raised beds, neat and tidy now, made up my first garden.  The pine tree stump beds are the other 4.   What started with 6 tomato plants, 1 cucumber plant, a couple of pepper plants and a whole lot of seeds has expanded just a little. I couldn't walk through the hardware store without buying more seeds.  Those seeds in raised beds ALL germinated.  Figured I would end up with about 4 squash plants.  Uh, no.  I have over 20.  Didn't plan on that!  I was so excited about the success of the seeds, that I didn't have the heart to pull up any of the plants, so they stayed put and they have grown and grown and grown.  Squash has taken on a life of its own.  So has everything else.  Needless to say, I will be supplying the county with beans, 4 kinds of squash, peppers, tomatoes, pumpkins, melons, cucumbers, eggplant, okra, corn and herbs.  My 1 cute little garden, now at 5 definitely keeps me busy daily pulling weeds.  I have planted just about everything but the kitchen sink and if I could figure out how to plant that, it would be out there, too!  I'm quite proud that most of what I planted, I started from seed.  I've marveled at the miracle of tiny seeds, no bigger than a speck of dirt, sprouting, growing, and producing such wonderful things that can sustain.  Only God could do that!

Graph paper charts, Google searches, ruined manicures and poison ivy have been part of my life for the last 7 weeks.  I've posted pictures of my thriving plants just like they were children and my pride and joy.  My new nickname is Farmer Kaye and I'm seriously considering getting a pair of overalls and wellies.  I think they would come in handy.

I'm up early and when my better half leaves for the office, you will find me in my gardens, dressed in old khakis and shirt, white socks, crocs and my Daddy's straw hat.  You may even hear me singing "His Eye Is On The Sparrow" or something totally unrelated like "The Crawdad Song".  Stand clear, because weeds will be flying over my shoulder.  Not promising that I sound like a songbird, but I sure am happy while I'm pulling those weeds.  I talk to my Daddy, I talk to God and after everything in the garden gets some encouraging words, I find myself dirty and tired, fulfilled and very, very happy.  My gardens are my happy places and I'm having a blast, though I readily admit, I might be a little out of control and most definitely up to my ears in yellow crookneck squash!

Remember Forest Gump and Bubba Blue talking about their shrimp?

     "shrimp is the fruit of the sea. You can barbecue it, boil it, broil it, bake it, saute it. Dey's uh, shrimp-kabobs, shrimp creole, shrimp gumbo. Pan fried, deep fried, stir-fried. There's pineapple shrimp, lemon shrimp, coconut shrimp, pepper shrimp, shrimp soup, shrimp stew, shrimp salad, shrimp and potatoes, shrimp burger, shrimp sandwich. That- that's about it."

Just substitute squash for shrimp!


I'm so excited - just think, fall garden, next year's spring garden...oh, I've got it bad don't I?  Squash anyone?

K

Love you, Daddy...another talk in the garden tomorrow.

Life's Morsels: Dark Natural Blonde #????

Life's Morsels: Dark Natural Blonde #????:      Shades of red, green, yellow, blue, brown, whatever.  Somewhere over the rainbow, my natural hair color is mocking me, laughing at my e...

Dark Natural Blonde #????

     Shades of red, green, yellow, blue, brown, whatever.  Somewhere over the rainbow, my natural hair color is mocking me, laughing at my expense!  Home hair color, I use it and every time I do, I question my sanity.  Not really sure what my "natural" color is anymore, except maybe for the white "stripes" on each side of my face.  I got them naturally, handed down from generation to generation.  One would think that I would be used to it by now.

     I turned 60 last year.  Milestone, right!  Ahh, yes, retirement is on the horizon.  Travel, sleeping late (right, more like barely sleeping), flexible schedule, cooking, sewing, fun projects, and so on.  In all honesty, there are days that I don't really think I'm aging gracefully.  No, let's rephrase that.  There are days that I KNOW that I'm not aging gracefully.  Sometimes, it's hard to find the fun stuff when you start the day off with a horror show!

    60 used to seem old, but you know, it's not really that bad.  I make light of the issues and complain, but it's okay.  But, those white stripes, yeah, well they invited some friends to the party and it seems like they all showed up at the same time.  Doesn't seem hardly fair.

    The party guests, where should I begin?  For starters, let's add thinning hair to that list!  When you look in the mirror and you can't tell where your face stops and your hair line starts, that's a pretty good sign that what's growing on top of your head is losing the battle.  Its ranks are thinning!  Behind those baby fine strands of hair that don't remember what color they  really are, there's a chrome dome just waiting to make its debut!  I don't think I'm quite ready to load in a case of carnuba wax and and apply and polish the top of my head.  Really don't want to take delight in knowing that water will bead up on my head.  Wig, no.  Let's not go there.  No, not yet!  My every 6 week color ritual has begun and all with the preferred outcome that my complexion and hair color won't match when I'm done.  By golly, I want to see that hair line, even if it's desperately thin.  Yes, I really would at least like to be able to see what's up there.  So, $2.00 off coupon in hand, I journeyed to my local grocery and planted myself in front of the vast supply of home hair color.  Done it many times before.  I've always leaned towards those lighter shades, if for no other reason than to help blend in that defying gray.  Not this time!  I pulled 4 or 5 colors from the shelf and put them side by side.  I know the other people going up and down the aisle may have thought me to be crazy, but my mission pressed on.  If I look like I'm in serious study over the boxes all lined up in front of me, maybe they won't know that I can't really see them.  Maybe it will be just my secret that I'm only looking at the pictures because the words are in mouse type and that's a wicked bad thing when you're far sighted!

     They make those boxes so attractive.  You can look like this if you buy this product.  Of course, they conveniently left off certain details like being 20 years younger, 50 pounds lighter and have a professional hair care staff of 15 at your beckoned call.  They are so devious.  On the side panels of each of the boxes, there's a chart showing someone else's perfect, split end free, beautiful silky hair, and it consists of a range of 3 colors.  You know, a range of what the final "glow" could be of my not perfect, full of split ends, thin, limp and lifeless hair if my "natural", well in this case, let's call it "existing" hair color was a particular shade.  There was method to my madness.  You see, my thought here, is that if I take it darker a step at a time, it will be more "natural".  Who did I think I was kidding, except of course myself!  Only my hair dresser knows for sure, right!  So, last September, the color choice was light golden blonde.  Then, November, just plain golden, January, well, let's try medium natural blonde.  Today, today is different!  Using that old gradual change thought process, I finally settled on the dark natural blonde and according to that microscopic picture on the side of the stupid box, it should still look blonde, right?  Just a tiny tad darker.  No more white stripes.  No more skin tone matching the hair color.  Victory is mine!  Or not.  More on this later, but I think you already know the outcome.

     Somewhere along the path of life, much wiser "older" people already well along the way of this journey, collectively, shared an epiphany.  Growing old is not for sissies!  Ya think!  As kids, we tend to think we are indestructible.  Morning and night, no real difference there, live your life.  Chance fate.  Fall off a horse, crack your head.  Race down hill on a home made skateboard.  So what if there's a stone wall at the bottom of the hill.  Baseball trophies and paper thin plywood make great bike ramps, right!  Right!  Glowing rings of fire on windy days are awesome for your eyebrows and eyelashes.  Sure!  Wear a bathing suit while ironing that cute little sundress.  Knock a hot iron off and have it leave a lovely 2nd degree burn iron imprint on your leg.  That dog won't bite.  He likes me!  Uh-huh!  These and thousands of more scenarios played out from those days of "growing up", are now a source of aches, pains and regrets, and the knowledge and realization that we weren't as smart as we thought we were.  Oh, and, big duh, here.  We aren't indestructible either.    

     Achy knees, bunions, sore backs, arthritis everywhere, thinning hair - just a few of the delights of the average older adult.  The list is endless.

     If you've made it to this new age and your arms are the right length for reading a book, or playing the piano, OR, reading the consumer information on the side of a box of hair color, then my friend, you are lucky!

     If you've made it this far or further, and you don't need glasses or contacts, or denture cleaner or hot rub for the catch in your hip or knee, then you should play the lottery because your chances of winning might be pretty good.

     If you've made it this far and you don't have to write things down so you don't forget everything, well, you're just showing off.  More power to you!  I'm sorry, what were we talking about?  Oh, yeah, I remember.

     Dear friends, let's not even talk about wrinkles!  Where do they come from?  One minute, you have this beautiful, flawless skin, a healthy glow, and then you wake up one morning and put your glasses on.  OMG!  The Grand Canyon has taken over your face.  You'll be lucky if you don't scare yourself half to death when you look in the mirror.  Furthermore, gravity is thumbing its nose at you!  But, if you don't put your glasses on, you'll never know.

    In spite of turkey necks, facial caverns (wrinkles), disappearing "bum", brown spots, flushing, batwing arms, hot flashes, clothes that hang accompanied by sagging everything else, life is good.  It is really good.  God has blessed me in more ways than I count, and here lately, He's made sure that my sense of humor and the ability to laugh at myself, get a daily workout.

     I am married to a wonderful man for almost 40 years.  He tells me daily just how much he loves me.  Not a day goes by that he doesn't tell me I'm beautiful, and that's even more special on those days that I started off the day by scaring myself when I looked in the mirror.

     Dark natural blonde # whatever, well, maybe you shouldn't believe everything that you see.  I'm a temporary brunette now.  Didn't see that one coming, and the color of my hair right now, well, let's just say it is no where near any of those  colors on the side of that stupid box!  Guess where I'm going with all of this is getting back to the simple things.  Life is short, it's full of earthly imperfection.  It's full of change, regret, poor judgment, sadness, joy, brilliance, incredible knowledge and abilities, beauty, ugliness, good things and bad, wants, needs, being thin or fat, weak eyes, stubbed toes and dark natural blonde #????.   Those are all a part of living, and each of us has our own custom list.  But there's another list, and it's one that we don't control.  It's a sunrise, it's taking a breath, it's a bright moon and a starry night, it's the wonderful smell of a rose, it's new life, it's the end of life and it's all that's in between.  Just a few of the wonderful things that God has made for each of us, to experience, to share, to love, to cherish, to be grateful for.  

     Dark natural blonde #???, guess it doesn't really matter, because I know it's temporary.  Somewhere, masked under my new brown hair, are 2 white stripes waiting to make their appearance.  So, maybe instead of dreaming about the outcome, well, maybe I should just get new glasses.

     God bless...enjoy life's morsels.

     K

Small But Mighty!

Peek a boo!  That's my sweet little dog, Skyler, peeking out from under the Christmas tree.  It's his favorite spot this time of year.  Yes, he is still with us and feisty as ever.  Some days, you would never know that he is a sick little guy, because he romps and plays like a puppy.  Hard to believe that it's been three years since he was diagnosed with congestive heart failure, COPD and a collapsing trachea.  They told us he wouldn't survive more than a couple of months, and look at him now!  The couple of months have since come and gone and he is our little miracle pooch, my little buddy and absolutely spoiled rotten.  I give God all of the credit for this sweet little dog.  He's a wonderful little companion and has brought so much joy to us.

Those big eyes of his are so piercing, and sometimes, I wish I knew what was going on in his little head.  There's no telling.  From spiteful and irritating to sweet and loving, he is pretty opinionated for his size and routinely reminds us that he is still here.  All we have to do is look down.

Recently, I moved his basket of toys into a corner in our bedroom.  He was not happy about this transition and each day, one by one, he would retrieve his favorite bobos and other squeaky toys and put them back in the living room.  I really think that if he could have figured out a way to drag the basket back, he would have done that as well.  Every night, I would pick up all of the toys and put them back in the basket in our bedroom.  The next day, he would again tote them to the living room, one by one.  After a couple of weeks of this routine, I caved in and put the basket back in the living room.  He won!  Small but mighty and one very determined little guy...

Remember when your children were tiny, laying there in your arms, gazing up at you with those big, trusting eyes.  You held them close as you tenderly rocked them to sleep.  Those big trusting eyes fluttered until they gradually closed and they were peacefully sleeping in the caress of your loving arms.  There's nothing like rocking a sweet baby as they sleep.  It is one of the most peaceful moments.  Little ones are so pure and innocent.  The unspoken bond of love between and mother and her baby is so beautiful.  Then, with little or no warning, the silence is broken by the cries of an infant that "needs" something.  Small but mighty and very determined...

Those sweet little babies grow up with their own personalities and ambitions, and before you know it, your lap is too small and your house seems so empty.

Christmas is just a few days away.  We are all caught up in shopping and cooking.  It's what we do year after year.  We celebrate God's greatest gift to us by remembering someone else and spending time with family and friends.  On the first Christmas, I can't help but think of how Mary must have felt as she and Joseph made their journey.  I can't even imagine how fearfully desperate she must have been knowing that she would soon give birth in a stable, a dirty, smelly barn, surrounded by livestock.  There were no personalized baby quilts or disposable diapers, no cute little caps, or booties with teddy bears.  Mary wasn't registered for baby gifts at the local department store.  No one threw her a baby shower.  Not a crib or high chair in sight.  God brought His Son into this world of ours under very simple, humble circumstances. Instead, straw became bedding and an old feed trough became the bed.  Ragged cloth, became the newborn outfit for the King of Kings, the Son of God, sweet baby Jesus.

Word spread so quickly about this newborn baby.  As he slept blissfully in His bed, people came from everywhere to see Him, bringing Him gifts, standing in awe of Him, this tiny baby, surrounded by angelic songs and Heaven's light was here to change the world and our lives forever.  Did the visitors know that one day, as a grown man, He would lovingly give His own life for all of us?  Did they know then the pain and torture that He would endure as He hung from the cross gasping for His last breath?  Did they know that as they stood gazing at this beautiful baby boy, that they were truly looking into the eyes of God?

Sweetly slumbering in an old feed trough, in a drafty old barn, this tiny baby was already showing everyone that He was small but mighty.

We take so many things for granted, not just this time of year, but every day.  We lead our own lives.  We do our own thing.  We get wrapped up in everything going on around us.  There are toy drives and food collections.  There are events that leave us speechless and our nerves raw, our hearts broken.  We have sickness and job loss and money woes.  Some people blame their problems on God, but what we need to remember is that He never promised us that there wouldn't be any of these things on Earth, but that He would be by our sides while we went through them.  What He did promise us, came to be because of the small but mighty baby who is the real reason for Christmas.  What He did promise was forgiveness and redemption, and eternal life with Him in Heaven.  There and only there, would we have perfection.

So, as you tackle the end of your shopping, wrap up your gifts, bake those famous cookies and get ready to share Christmas with family and friends, remember that everything good for us is a prayer away and it's all because of one small but mighty baby boy.  The King of Kings, born to humble beginnings celebrates His birthday on December 25th. Two thousand and twelve birthdays later, He is still the King of Kings, our Savior and Redeemer.  Happy birthday, Jesus!

Merry Christmas.  I hope that each and every one of you is truly blessed this Christmas and the small but mighty baby boy is your reason for this season...

God bless,
K

Snorelax and Being Right Brained

Meet Snorelax.  He's cute, isn't he?  Snorelax is a puffy cuddly creature from the Pokeman game and anime series.  The reason for his name is obvious if you have ever seen the cartoon or played the games.  He literally sleeps all of the time and makes such a racket when he does.  There are times, however, that I know that Snorelax lives at my house.  Not that I don't enjoy those frequent serenades of long drawn out nasal symphonies from my husband (love you, honey) and our 12 year old dog, but they do make it difficult to sleep sometimes.  If they could just get the timing perfected for the chortling, gurgling and log sawing, I would sleep better.  The worst part, though, is when they stop, and even then, the silence alarms me and I want to make sure they are both still breathing.  I'm sure you've been there before, too.  My dark circles have dark circles and some days, there isn't enough concealer to make a difference.  Oh well!

Desperately seeking sleep on this cozy rainy Monday, and now my brain with no off switch has taken over and the mere fact that my head knows it's daytime outside, is blocking me from closing my eyes getting that one extra hour or sleeping.  I've got all of the right props, cuddly pillow, warm blanket, Christmas tree lights are on and the couch swallows me as I curl up, cover up and close my eyes...well, at least for about 30 seconds.  Stop it brain, eyes stay closed.  PLEASE!  No good, eyes pop open and I lay there for just a few more minutes continually trying to convince my brain to chill out.  Brain wins, I'm up.  Time to be productive.  

How did we do it when we were kids?  Were we good at taking naps then?  I'm not sure I ever was.  I can even still remember pretending to be sleeping when my parents would creep into my room to check on me, but that brain always seemed to be working overtime, those eyes would always pop open.  So, nothing has changed..  I guess I will never medal in the sleep Olympics.

I guess the reason my brain never chills out, is because I am dominantly right brained.  That amazing hunk of sponge with all its little capillaries and zones and lobes has to always be doing something, making something, designing something.  Seriously, it wouldn't hurt my feelings if it decided to rest once in awhile, but it always has to be a real spitfire and go go go all the time.  From grocery lists to poetry to decoupage to floral arrangements, it's no wonder I'm exhausted when I get up every morning.  Good grief, I've put in a 24 hour day before I ever get out of bed!

I'm being fussy, and I know I shouldn't be.  God made me the way I am and for a multitude of His reasons.  He blessed me with the ability to design, to bring things from paper to reality, to be a problem solver and an advocate.  But what I cherish the most, is that He gave me a tender heart and arms to give hugs and hold someone tight when they need it.  He gave me emotions that allow me to cry not just when I'm sad or  happy, but when something is so beautiful that anything other than tears just doesn't seem appropriate.  He gave me the gift of love, determination, expression and so many, many more.  

Here I am on a rainy Monday morning, getting ready to tackle my day.  News reports are still heart wrenching with the coverage of the school massacre last Friday.  Knowing that 20 innocent little lives and those of  7 heroic adults were taken senselessly, leaves us all feeling numb and asking why.  Knowing that Heaven is blessed with the laughter and sweet spirits of 20 more children as the play and sing with Jesus, gives me comfort.  I can't even begin to imagine the heartache of their families and friends.  My prayers are with them all.  

Christmas is a time to rejoice in the birth of a King.  It's a time to share with family and friends, to give and give some more.  It's a time to remember old memories and make new ones.  It's a time to love and look beyond anger.  It's a time to be thankful.  If we can do all of these things during the celebration of Christmas, why can't we do them all the time?  Why?

1 Peter 5:14 "Greet ye one another with a kiss of charity. Peace [be] with you all that are in Christ Jesus. Amen."

Double amen.

Thank you God for this beautiful rainy day.  Thank you for the many gifts you've given, including snoring and sleepless nights and a brain that never stops.  But mostly, God, thank you for my family and friends and the gift of Your Son, Jesus.  Amen

Do me a favor today, please go splash in a puddle and be a kid at heart for just a little while.  God may have put that puddle there just for you.  I pray for your travel mercies, health and well being and that peace and charity maybe radiate from you and be shared with everyone you meet.  Touch a life, share a hug, offer Jesus to someone through what you do and say.

God bless and Merry Christmas!
K

Life's Morsels: Roadblocks and Blessings

Life's Morsels: Roadblocks and Blessings: Everything in life, everything we do, is surrounded by technology.  Sometimes, it frustrates me beyond belief, especially when they don't qu...

Roadblocks and Blessings

Everything in life, everything we do, is surrounded by technology.  Sometimes, it frustrates me beyond belief, especially when they don't quite want to work.

I remember the old blond wood television when I was a little girl, 2 stations, maybe 3 at most.  I even remember the very first episode of the Flintstones!  A few years later, we were introduced to Pa, and Hoss and Little Joe on the Ponderosa, and it was in living color.  On Sunday nights, I would be stretched out on the floor at my grandparent's home, thinking that the NBC peacock in color was the coolest thing I had ever seen in my life.  Who knew that it was the beginning of more channels than any of us could ever even dream of watching and a picture that was so realistic, that you feel like you could step right into it!  For those of you that remember the first television, period, or listening to Little Orphan Annie on the big radio in the living room, I'm pretty sure that technology and progress have moved a little fast for you, too.  See the USA in a Chevrolet was a catchy theme song on a commercial.  Who would have ever dreamed that places we only saw in books or in movies would become so accessible!  Let's not even think about moon landings and pictures from Mars!

My husband used to tease me because I am one of those right brained people that couldn't ever fold a road map to its original condition.  I was essentially, origami challenged.  I don't have to worry about that anymore.  Technology has provided me with GPS and a map on my phone, and, with the touch of a button, it will even show me the roadblocks and traffic patterns around the city!  A phone is no longer just a phone.    Phone numbers used to start with a series of letters and if you didn't have a party line, you must have been rich.  A rotary dial phone is in most homes, a thing of the past.  It takes so long to dial a 10 digit number (10 for those of us that live in cities large enough that they have multiple area codes).  Speed dial on a digital phone takes mere seconds (provided you can get a signal, that's one thing that still has a long way to go).  With all of the technical wonders that surround us every day, you would think our lives would be much simpler than they are, but I think they are more chaotic than ever.  Don't get me wrong, I am never more than a few feet from my cell phone, and if I don't play my daily run of Words with Friends and Bejeweled, I almost feel frantic.  What did we ever do without instant communication and constant entertainment at our fingertips?  Mind boggling, simply mind boggling.

Somewhere, sometime, someone decided to take some hours out of our days. Time seems to just fly by without getting anything accomplished.  Those missing hours, well they've been replaced with high anxiety and stress levels that are off the chart.  At least, it sure does seem that way.  Gosh, what fun elements to be added to our daily life.  Simply not enough hours in a day, too many things going on and roadblocks popping up at every turn, and not just on the interstate.  I don't know about you, but sometimes, I yearn for a time when things were so much simpler, a good night's sleep and fewer choices about anything and everything.  Memorable television quotes would be "yabba dabba do" and "to the moon, Alice".  Now, there is language used on both radio and tv that is so vulgar that it wasn't even whispered.  Commercials for "personal" use products are everywhere and there is a 1-800 number for things that they tell us, we can't live without, on every single one of the hundreds (or is it thousands) of channels on the tv.

I know what the solution is.  It's always right in front of me, a breath away, a prayer away, simple and complex all at the same time.  It is spirit filled but, yet it is filled with a peace beyond anything that we could ever comprehend.  It is the answer to every question, a road map for our lives, one size fits all, the perfect gift, the greatest sacrifice, forgiveness, grace, beauty, love and forever.  It is not an "it".  It is God.  It's Jesus.  Short and simple.  Walking away because there are so many other things going on,  well, that's also easy.  Making plans and having them change course halfway through, that's daily.  But, so is finding your way back, admitting that it is His plan, and not ours, that matters.

Whether we choose to admit it, roadblocks are there for a reason.  Our daily roadblocks, well, they are blessings.  God uses them to get our attention for so many reasons and those reasons are not always ours to know.  But we need to trust Him.  It's not always easy.  I know that first hand because, sometimes, I am the queen of "my way".  Been there, done that, more times than I can count.  We live in a world that is filled to the brim with "awful" things, aggravation, fear, hatred, pain, illness, death. Things that we can't fix.  There are things that leave us all stunned and grieving, overwhelmed with sadness, and events that are out of our control and beyond belief.  How do we handle that?  We trust, we feed our faith, we believe, we listen, we pray...and then...we do it all again.  Moment by moment, day by day, we get a little stronger, and then, we do it all again.  I'm so grateful that God puts things in my path to help me out.  Sometimes, it's a single song on the radio, a Christmas carol or a whole cantata.  It's a special prayer, a much needed rainy day or that one Bible verse that keeps popping up everywhere.  They are all blessings and I am so thankful for each of them.

Batteries run down in all of those "can't live without it" electronic devices, but God's batteries never run down.  He is a constant power supply for our lives, His word is our GPS, and He loves us all the time, in spite of "us" being "us".  He wrapped the greatest Christmas gift ever in pieces of ragged cloth and presented Him to the world in a rough hewn wooden trough.  He sacrificed His life for our sins and offered us forgiveness and perfect eternal life, walking in Heaven with Him.

You know that red light that seemed to last forever, well, it may very well have been God's way of keeping you out of harm's way.  Your roadblock was just one of many blessings.

It's been a long day, actually a long couple of weeks.  There are a lot of things going on right now, praying and trusting and counting blessings.  Time to head to my quiet place, and a recently discovered GOOD dose of technology - I have the audio Bible on my cell phone, and in more languages than I ever knew existed.  How cool is that!  I started the chronological Bible study.  This is one feature on my phone that is truly amazing, and that, is a good thing, a very good thing!  Definitely couldn't do that with the old rotary dial models!

Good night and Merry Christmas.  May God bless you with many more roadblocks and the faith to know that they are really blessings!

K

The Christmas Story

Today, I simply want to share the words and a beautiful reminder of the reason for the season.  The following, is a posting by Judi Rainey, on Facebook on December 14th, 2011.


Simply said, powerful, beautiful...Be blessed.


"Judi Rainey

In eleven days we who are Christians will celebrate and give thanks to God for the greatest gift that He could ever give to us His only Son Jesus Christ. I invite you to share this gift with others so that in Eleven days they too will have the opportunity to experience the greatest gift ever in a whole new way. Remember the reason for the Season is not what someone will buy for you but the amazing gift our Father in Heaven gave us."

Merry Christmas to each and everyone of you.  

God bless you and remember the real reason for Christmas and the greatest gift ever to be shared.

Kaye

Grown Up Christmas Lists, Don't Be Afraid to Make Them Happen!

Remember those wonderful moments when your children were small and the excitement in their eyes shined bright as they flipped through one of the colorful catalogs that came out at Christmas?  When my daughter was little, we always received the good old Sears Wishbook, maybe even Penneys.  Now, those are long gone (I think) and have been replaced by the Toys R Us booklet that comes out way before Thanksgiving and of course, the newspaper ads.  I can remember my daughter, laying on her tummy on the living room floor, feet in the air, pieces of torn paper in a pile next to her, and the bright, colorful and very enticing copy of the Sears Wish Book opened up in front of her.  By the time she finished marking all of the pages, the book easily gained an extra couple of pounds.  

I remember one of her big favorites was anything and everything to do with My Little Pony.  I especially remember one Christmas when Santa delivered a Disney World Main Street USA play set that had those 3 horrid letters on the box that strike terror into the heart of every parent - SAR!  My husband still trembles at the thought of assembly tasks that lasted to nearly dawn, sore fingers from plastic push pins and aggravation due to missing parts.  Some Assembly Required - honestly, now, I think I would gladly pay someone else to handle the task.  I don't think I have the patience for that anymore and I know my poor husband doesn't.  Pink ponies, purple saddles and dress ups were all part of our little girl's dream world then (actually, they still are!).

When our son was born, he went straight from crib toys and stuffed animals to video games on the original Nintendo and eventually, the anime type items and, now, many years later, we're still in that mode.  He never really liked the big fancy yellow Tonka trucks that he received, or the remote control goodies that ended up in the hands of my husband.  Instead, he was tuned into electronic themed entertainment from early on.  Most of them were the high tech goodies that required lots of hand eye coordination and intense concentration.  

Gadgets and gizmos rapidly took over his young world.  He still has some of them.  One set I remember very well was something called Beyblades.  They were these really unusual looking tops that all had crazy names and wild paint jobs.  Some had been designed to do different types of spins and "attacks".  There were plastic stadiums for competitions that literally cost more than the crazy tops and they were nothing more than vac formed plastic!  Insane!    However, those brightly colored tops kept him entertained for hours. He still has most of them.  But at the age of 20, they have been neatly tucked away into storage boxes and have taken a back seat to mmorpg's (yay...got it right and for those of you that don't understand that mass of letters, it means multi member online role playing games...ie, World of Warcraft), and the latest, greatest video game for who knows what system, (because we have them all!!!)  He collects Sonic comic books, usually buys 2 of each issue, one to read and one to neatly slip into a plastic sleeve to save for posterity.  If he likes a game, he can tell you anything and everything about the game, the designer, the voice actors, the composer of the music, and so on and so on and so on.  Some, no, actually, most of the names are Japanese and he routinely corrects me on their pronunciation and gives me the evil eye if I look at him and just say "wha what or who?".  Too much info for my brain to take in.  I have enough to remember with the everyday things.

Signs of the times, the world really does seem to progressing at a much more rapid pace now.  Keeping up with it just leaves me exhausted some days.  Anyone agree with me on that?

So, here we are, Wednesday, December 7th, 2011.  Today is the 70th anniversary of Pearl Harbor.  No, I am not that old, but I did study it in school and I do know what it is.  I'm not even sure it's in text books anymore.  They seem to discount a lot of historical events as impertinent to events of today.  Such a shame.

Back to Christmas, sorry, chasing rabbits again.  Pearl Harbor aside, we are now also 18 days from yet another commercialized Christmas.  I've had my fill of Black Fridays, Cyber Mondays and crowds at the mall.  I'm over it, but 3 weeks ago, my daughter shared a special wish with me, that I am now calling her Grown Up Christmas List.  After years of letting that inner kid come out and present her family with a list that was very similar to that old Sear's Wish Book with all of the torn paper page markers, I am so proud of the words that came from her mouth.  "Mom, I wish we could convince everyone to take all of that money spent on those gifts and turn it into helping people.  I wish we could give a donation to a childrens' organization or homeless shelter in the names of everyone we buy Christmas gifts for.  We don't need anything, but there are people that do."  I nearly cried, and from those words that flowed with passion from her heart, we had a conversation that left no doubt, that in spite of those rough and tumble teenage years, and the "I'm over 21 and a grown up" years, she listened, she learned, she became so compassionate, that she literally glowed when she talked about what she wanted to do.  I'm so proud of her, so very proud of her.  My son is the same way, he will take the last dollar, the last quarter he has, and put it in the red kettle at the grocery or the mall.  They have both grown up, they have both seen beyond their "wants" and realized that the "needs" of others just might be more important than spending their money on a new CD or video game or pair of ridiculously overpriced jeans.  Yippee!  I raised real people!  Compassionate, loving, feeling, concerned people.  Thank you God for helping us do this right!  Thank you for my two beautiful, caring, talented, gifted special kids.  The best part of all is that now, they are not only still blessing Mom and Dad and the rest of the family, but they have reached beyond their comfort zone and are beginning to bless those that they don't know.

Friends, I've had such a wonderful week.  My encounter with the old man last week, the craziness of the geysers in my kitchen, a birthday that will go down in the record books as one of the best, and the pride and joy that my now grown up children have brought to me.

It's such a neat feeling to know that your child learned how to spell their name or count to 100.  It's a feeling that I can't even describe to see them turn into "grown ups", "people" and know that they have reached the point in their lives, that taking on the world is not a video game or gossiping on Facebook.  It's knowing that they have figured out this whole thing and are now looking at that Christmas Wish Book from an entirely different perspective.

Kids, I love you both so much.  You have both made your momma very, very proud.  Change the world, one quarter, one random act of kindness at a time.  Share your grown up Christmas Lists with the world and don't be afraid to make them happen...

Okay, so the rest of you already figured out that I'm a proud momma.   I know that you are proud of your kids too.  No matter what age they are, set an example for them.  Teach them about those Grown Up Christmas Lists.  Teach them that there is more to the 25th of December than just new toys, new clothes.  Teach them the reason for the season!  Christ was born in Bethlehem, a tiny baby born into a cold world, 10 tiny fingers, 10 tiny toes, born to wear a crown of thorns.  Born to give us the ultimate Christmas gift, His life for our salvation.  Teach them to care, teach them to love, teach them to feel, teach them to be joyous, but also to weep.  Teach them to give thanks, to share, to give.

Merry Christmas everyone.  God loves you, Jesus lives within each of us that have claimed Him as our Lord and Savior.  He is in our hearts, let others see Him through our actions.

Now, go write down your own Grown Up Christmas list and see if there is room to squeeze in a couple of extras.  You might just open a heart, restore faith, give life, in the process.

Love you all, God bless you and keep you.  Merry Christmas!

Kaye

Enjoy!

Life's Morsels: Angels On Our Doorsteps....

Life's Morsels: Angels On Our Doorsteps....: I am a firm believer that God puts people and ANGELS in our paths for all sorts of reasons. We may not always know why at the time, and as ...

Angels On Our Doorsteps....

I am a firm believer that God puts people and ANGELS in our paths for all sorts of reasons.  We may not always know why at the time, and as Earthly inhabitants, we may never know why until that day, that one special day, that God calls us home.

It's really hard to not be cynical these days, who to trust, who not to trust.  We see people sleeping under bridges that are homeless, the not so scraggly man standing at the end of the exit ramp asking for money, people everywhere, in every town, in every setting, are hurting, some for real and others just acting the part for the handout.  BUT, you never know when that one person that you avoid like the plague may actually be that angel in disguise put there to test you or bless you.  So, what do you do?  How do you know?  The answer is simply, you don't...

Every day, we each have an opportunity or two to make someone's day better (including our own), to change a life, share God, bring a smile, basically, we all have the chance daily to be the blessing to someone else.

You never know what form it will take, it could be as simple as a smile, as warm as a hug or as lasting as just listening when someone needs to talk.  The blessing comes from your heart and your willingness to give back or be there for that one Angel on your doorstep at that moment in time.

Last week, I wrote that sometimes, we all just need a good cry.  It's cleansing, it's restoring, it's a release, but it's also a way that we know our hearts, our tender spots are still there.  There are people and situations all around us that we tend to tune out because we have become desensitized to the cries of those around us, the world around us.  We have turned off our senses to those that are a little different, seem a little threatening, a little diverse.  Last week, I learned a very important lesson and thanked God for that Angel that He planted on my doorstep at work and the impact it has had on me ever since.  This is His story....

On Friday, I was wrapping things up at the office, sorting mail, answering phone calls, and just getting ready to tie things up for the week.  I'm there by myself a lot of the time and have gotten very cautious about who I open the door to.  I keep the door locked all the time, as we've had some pretty unsavory characters show up, looking for handouts our free advice.  But this day, it was different.  I had been on hold with a contractor for quite awhile and as I sat there blankly starring out the window, I saw a car pull up and park and an elderly man, all stooped over, got out and started walking slowly and carefully down the sidewalk, tapping his cane with every step he took.  He appeared tired and very weary and I noticed that he had what looked to be a fresh head wound.  A long gash, with numerous stitches, reached from one side of his head to the other.  I'm ashamed to admit that I almost didn't open the door and greet him, but there was just something about him that gave me the feeling that he was okay.

He stood before me telling me that he had been in an accident earlier and was looking for a doctor.  He said  that he was from down south of Macon and he had been driving an acquaintance up here to be with family.  He wasn't real familiar with the highways up here and the exits and all.  Someone side swiped his car while he was changing lanes.  His car was damaged, but even worse, he and his friend were hurt pretty bad.  He refused an ambulance when the State Patrol offered, and he took his traffic ticket and drove his friend to the hospital for treatment.  That's when the patched up the gash on his head.  I'm not real sure what happened after that, whether the hospital offered to get him help or if he just left, but he had been driving around for quite awhile, looking for a doctor's office and an attorney.  Lost, alone, confused and afraid, he found our office and pulled in.  I felt so bad that there was nothing I could do short of calling 911, so I did the next best thing.  I listened and I just let him talk.  It was 30 minutes that has changed me and I won't ever forget it.

As he talked, he shook, his eyes were filled with fear, and with tears beginning to spill from his eyes, he began to talk about his life.  His wife had passed away as had his children.  He had no family left.  He was 87 and had been driving around all day since he left the ER, because he didn't know where he was or what to do or where to go.  He just needed someone to tell him what to do.

As he talked, he seemed to be reliving memories and he began to tell me stories from his life.  At 17, he joined the navy and was stationed at Pearl Harbor.  He told me about being blown off of the ship he was on and then getting caught up in the wake it created as it began to sink.  He survived, but all around him were the lifeless bodies of many of his shipmates.  He was rescued and tended to and later on, was aboard another  ship that went down off the coast of Scotland and he nearly lost his life again.  He watched as his ship went down with many of the crew and the admiral on board as it did.  He tearfully said, "I survived, but they didn't."

He asked if there was a doctor available.  no' I'm so sorry, and I offered again to call 911.  He had already been to the ER.  I think he just needed someone to listen and to care enough to treat him like a human being and not a number or just another case in the ER.  I told him over and over that I was sorry there was no one there to help him, and he said "it's okay, you already have...thank you for just listening to an old man."   With those words, I reached out and gently put my hand on his crooked shoulders and gave him a hug.  He walked away, tears rolling down his ruddy cheeks, and he turned and looked at me one last time before he got in his car.  The only thing he said was "thank-you".

I waved goodbye and stood there and watched as he drove off, tears streaming down my face, and I said to myself, "no, I need to thank you."  He had no idea how much he had done for me.  He had no idea of the gift that he had given me.  He had no idea that he was the blessing that I needed at just that moment, on just that day, in just that place.

Since Friday, I haven't been able to stop thinking about him.  I can still see him standing there, afraid, hurting, lost, and I wonder where he is, if he is okay, if he blessed someone else that day as much as he did me.

I know that he is in good hands.  God has him, of that I am sure and I thank God for that special angel that made my life just a little bit better because of the time that he spent with me...

I'm not asking you to take risks or to do anything unsafe, but I am asking that you look twice at that person  standing on the corner with their hand reached out for help.  There are a lot of scammers and ruthless people out there that know the time is right to mooch and panhandle instead of trying to work, but there are people that truly need the help, whether it's clothes or a job or money for food, or shelter, or just an ear to listen.  If you don't feel safe with that person on the street corner, go volunteer to help at a shelter or soup kitchen.  Lend an ear while, offer a hug and let them know you care, and so does God.

It's Christmas time...give of yourself.  The gift you get in return may turn out to be the blessing you receive when you greet that "Angel on your doorstep".

Love you all, God bless and Merry Christmas,
Kaye