It's A Boy...Or Maybe A Girl!

We have this beautiful, lush tree in our yard - it must be really old because it's way taller than our house.The blossoms are so full and heavy that the branches are beginning to hang low. But this little guy's parents chose the dark, old, full-of-junk detached garage for their home.
Poor little guy/girl has no brothers or sisters so he's all alone in the dark when his parents fly off for food. I don't think he's happy about that, do you?

Twice In One Week!

Yesterday my husband and I drove to a small town in sort-of-southern Arkansas where we own a house that we rent out. Now we lived in that house for 13 years and it was probably one of my two favorite houses that we've ever lived in, and we've lived in more than a few. It's an old house, on The Historical Register whatever that means, and was built before 1930 as were all the houses on a three block span on our street. (No that's not it in the picture but I thought you all might like the picture that I sort of "borrowed" off the Internet) It was rented to the same people for five or six years but they moved out last December. For a variety of reasons we hadn't been down to check on it and it remains empty. It made me almost physically ill to see how it had deteriorated and how dirty they left it. I didn't want to touch anything for fear of contamination! We called a former student of ours who has been mowing the yard for us to see if he was also in the cleaning business...and it turns out he is, thank goodness. To make a long story short we were visiting with this young man when all of a sudden he told us he wanted to thank us for our parts in his life. What? I was his high school counselor and my husband was his high school principal and he went on to tell us he remembered our help in keeping him out of trouble (my husband) and getting his diploma (me). He was a special needs student and one of the sweetest kids I ever met but sometimes made some poor decisions. We just did what we always did for kids, but how incredibly blessed we felt yesterday when he told us he remembered. Since I've been retired for 6 years now I sure don't hear many of those validations.

Lo and behold when I opened up my e-mail this morning I had a message from another former student - out of the blue. He was up early to take the Colorado Bar Exam today and wanted to thank me for my part in helping him get there. He spoke of the value of time and remembered the time I'd spent talking to him and helping him to stay focused on his goals and the time I'd spent traveling to the airport to see him off as he left for The Air Force Academy. I'm amazed that he remembers that but it proves once again that we never know when we're impacting a life.

Ricky Timms, a gifted quilter and musician, talks of two gifts given to him that impacted his life in a profound way. His grandmother remarried late in life and gave him her old sewing machine when she moved. That gift led to a very lucrative and fulfilling career that has taken him to multiple countries to teach classes, inspired several books, and won him numerous awards. But he also comments that one day many, many years ago a sewing machine salesman got up one ordinary morning and went about his normal work day never dreaming that he would that day sell a sewing machine to a woman, who would leave it to her grandson, who would use it to impact people all over the world. That salesman was just doing the task assigned him that day but God used that task to make a difference in someone's life.

I hope that we all remember that as we go about our ordinary tasks today. What we do, no matter how small, can be used (and might be used!) to make someone's life better. We may never know it. We may never even dream it. But God can use it...and us....for a mighty purpose.

And I also hope that today you might remember a teacher/counselor/principal who impacted your life. If there's any way to do so make a phone call or send an e-mail and say thanks. It's a little thing that would make an ordinary day become an extraordinary day for that teacher.

Down In The Country

Yesterday Jerry and I visited a small church down in the country. Last year we had a remarkable young woman serve as an intern at our church during her senior year at seminary. This small church 30 miles from here is her first assignment as a pastor. We loved Heather and couldn't wait to see and hear her in her very own church.

When I say a small church I mean that on any given Sunday they might have 60 or 70 in worship. Yesterday Heather's family was there as well as four of us from her former church so we really swelled the ranks! Jerry and I attend a large church where there might be two or three hundred at each of three services so this was a very different environment for us at this point in our lives. We've lived in small towns many times and been members of small churchs but none quite this small. And oh how I love a small church!

Everyone there knew we were visitors immediately - because everyone there knows everyone else there. They are family in the truest sense of the word. The good, the bad, the ugly....makes no difference in a small church. You are who you are and who you are is good because you are part of the family. Everyone knew who was sick and who had a death in their family and why this person wasn't in church this Sunday and why that person needed a visit and a prayer. And as I sat there listening to this incredible loving service I thought....this is just how it was after Jesus died and the communities of God were meeting in their homes and beside the rivers and in hidden places. They were a family, a community of God.

What kind of church do you go to? Oh I don't mean the denomination because I don't think that matters - I'm pretty sure there won't be denominations in Heaven. I mean is it large or small? Is it a place where everyone is loved and accepted and welcomed and prayed over? Is it your family? If it's not, what can you do to help it change and become a family? Have you thought about that? Do you love small churchs like I do?

Charlie Wasn't There

I went to an exciting celebration at church yesterday. And I saw lots and lots of friends – a whole church full! But Charlie wasn’t there. His wife, Liz, with her beautiful white hair was all dressed up in black slacks and a gorgeous white pleated blouse. His twin daughters, Jamie and Amy, and all their families came too. Charlie’s whole Sunday School class was there and they sat together just like they do on Sunday mornings in their class. His friends from the Red Coat group and his neighbors and even his daughter’s friends came. My goodness there was even a church bus of folks from Memphis that showed up!

We heard the best music – “How Great Thou Art” and “Beulah Land” and “Battle Hymn of the Republic”. Even though these songs were some of Charlie’s favorites, Charlie wasn’t there to hear them.

We got to see pictures of Charlie from the time he was a baby on his mother’s hip to last year’s wedding when he was the grandfather of the bride. Black and white pictures of Charlie standing by a plane when he was serving our country were side by side with pictures of Charlie loving on his daughters and laughing with friends. But Charlie wasn’t there to see them.

Charlie’s daughters stood up in front of the whole church and talked about him – about his faith, about his patriotism, about his love for his family. They told us about him putting his neighbor’s newspapers on the doorstep every morning because he got up before everyone else. They told us about him always keeping bottles of water cold for the garbage men and how on that last day he was in the hospital he reminded them to do that. And how, even when he was struggling to breathe, he was trying to take care of Liz, his love and his heart. His friend, Max, told us about the prayers they had together and the things Charlie was thankful for. But Charlie wasn’t there to hear all that.

I kept looking around thinking any minute I’d see Charlie come walking in but he never did. And when we all walked out to that great tune “When The Saints Come Marching In” that’s when I realized…..that saint, Charlie, had gone marching in. Head up, shoulders back, determined to get there, Charlie marched right up to the feet of Jesus. And I bet he’s sitting there now, telling a joke or two, visiting with family and friends, and doing his best to take care of everyone around him. He might not have been here for our celebration but can’t you just imagine the celebration they had for him up there?

Thursday Prayers

Last week I told you I wanted to post once a week requests for prayer and I almost forgot it today, the second week! Maybe I should be asking for prayers for my memory. :)

I have prayed for every one of you who had requests and I know of several others who have as well. Please continue to send me what is on your heart and we will all join together laying those hurts and concerns at the feet of our Father.

Our friend, Charlie, was my first request last week. Charlie passed away about 12:45 this morning. Jerry and I were there till about 11:00 last night and it was quite apparent that it was a matter of hours. His family will appreciate your prayers.

Kim's father, our second request last week, is weathering chemo very well but of course that's going to be a very long battle.

And our daughter, Tammy, will continue to have problems with her back so I continue to ask for prayers for her.

I would like to add my brother and his family to our list. Last Saturday his wife's son and his stepson (he's raised him since he was a child) drowned while at a gathering of friends. He was 44. Please keep that family in your prayers as well.



Please leave us a comment with any request that we might add to this list and also a comment if you are praying for all those readers/commenters on this blog. Blessings to all.....marlene

The Old Man Is Snoring

Remember that verse from your childhood - It's Raining, It's Pouring, The Old Man Is Snoring! Wonder where that came from....is the snoring thunder? It has poured down here today. Lots and lots of rain. I love summer rainy days - how much better can it be than to snuggle in and read a good book or stitch in front of an old movie on a rainy day. Unfortunately for me, I didn't get to snuggle in this morning.

Let me remind you that I'm a "bit" OCD. Just a tiny bit. And if you believe that I have some land....well, you get the drift. I plan my days is an understatement. The day before. In my head and woe to anyone who can't read my mind! Today I was going to get up at my normal time, grab my chai latte and Bible and head for the deck. After that I would bake the bread I had left rising the night before, make the beds, sweep the kitchen, shower and dress, and head for a 9:40 doctor's appointment which might take an hour. Then I'd drop books off at the library, go to Kroger, come back home to finish my housework and cook dinner for a friend who was coming over later. That should leave time to read a few blogs and stitch a little on my wool wallhanging. Except....

At 9:00 last night a friend called my husband to remind him of the Methodist Men's monthly breakfast at 7:00 a.m. And that wives were invited. We're never invited. And I hate surprises. Especially when I have plans. So instead of my calm and methodical day I rose at 6:00, put bread in the oven, dressed and went to church. Where I froze. I mean really, they complain about the utilities but the temperature is set at minus seventeen. What's up with that? Then WE ran to Kroger (it always costs me twice as much when my husband goes with me, does it you?) and then back home where I dropped him and the groceries off. I made my doctor's appointment, barely (and remember that all of this is in a torrential downpour!) where he told me I had something that sounded like Jose Cuervo (Di Qupaorvain Torosynoulis or something remotely similar) which really means I'm getting older and the tendons in my thumbs are not happy about that whole aging thing. He sent me to the people who make braces and I ended up like this:

The doctor said wear them in the day time. The brace people said wear them at night too. Excuse me? There are things you cannot do in braces like this. To put it delicately, or not, the bathroom is one place where you have to take them off. To do the dishes. To take a shower. If there are typos in this post it's not my fault.

And then, to top it all off, he sent me to get a shingles vaccine. Anybody had one? Where they talked to me about getting a flu vaccine. It's just July people! And I had two allergy shots this week....you are not sticking a needle in me again this week.

Despite it all, it's 2:00 and I am snuggled in. Chicken is in the crock pot, bread is baked, dishes are washed. I didn't dust but I can't use this as an excuse because I rarely dust. Dust is a protective coating for furniture...did you know that? The Old Man Is Snoring!