SOLITARY MOMENTS

Having A Ball

2012-02-07T20:03:00.000-06:00

On an unusually balmy January evening, I swung by my sister's and captured a few magical moments outdoors with my niece's adorable Ainsley. We predict she'll be a ball player of some kind. Anything round is a "ball" to her, including my plastic tangerines.

Joining Outdoor Wednesday.

Got Loose Wires?

2012-02-03T11:04:00.003-06:00

After weeks of haggling with my garage door, I hunted down the manual and resolved to figure out the problem, no matter how long it took. True, I'm not a skilled "technician," but I concluded if a technician could figure it out, so could I.

With manual in hand, I climbed the ladder and slowly read the steps for reprogramming the remotes. It sounded complicated, but one step at a time, and I'd be fine.

First step done. Second step done. Third step done.

I was pleased as punch with my accomplishment, and all was well...for a while at least. Sadly, in a few weeks, I was right back where I started from. No matter how many times I reprogrammed the remotes, the garage door would NOT go down. Even the wall panel wasn't working without hands-on assistance.

Clearly, something besides programming was amiss, so I climbed the ladder again and closely examined the wiring. It HAD to be the wiring. Something wasn't connecting somewhere.

Sure enough, after a few wiggles, I located a loose wire. Aha!

Feeling empowered by my brilliance, I isolated the wire, figured out where it belonged and carefully secured it back in place. I couldn't wait to get off the ladder and give it a try.

Voilà! Worked like a charm.

Spiritual Application: If life is one big struggle for you, and nothing is working as it should, maybe one of your wires has come loose from the Source of power.

I'm linking to Spiritual Sundays.

Mosaic Monday: Smart Kids and Smart Phones

2012-01-29T20:36:00.000-06:00

Spending time with one-year-old Ainsley (my niece's little girl) works magic on me. She is such a delight, and is in the process of learning everything about everything. In no time at all, she'll be sending text messages and surfing the web. I have no doubt.

Linking to Mosaic Monday.

Nana Is Coming To Town

2012-01-26T18:00:00.000-06:00

I'm beyond delighted that my big sister and her hubby are moving back to Houston. Although I'll miss their peaceful place in Tyler (along with the cows and pastures and pond), I am thrilled they're coming home....where they belong.

Don't tell anybody I said so, but I think a little girl named Ainsley, who calls my sister "Nana," is a big part of the drawing force bringing them this way. I don't have a grandchild, but I hear that being a grandparent can make you behave in unexpected ways. At any rate, I'm happy Big Sis will be closer now, and I'm looking forward to us sharing lots of laughs, love and hazelnut coffee. ♦

"It's a fine thing when sisters love each other." Lorna Landvik

My $18 Mantel Makeover

2012-01-24T19:14:00.000-06:00

After putting my Christmas decor away last month, I decided a mantel makeover was in order. I wanted an eclectic look of something old....something borrowed....nothing new. Thus, I dug through drawers and closets and cabinets, looking for unused, usable goodies.

Although not of great monetary value, the framed picture on the left is a priceless piece to me. It was my grandmother's, and I admired it as a youngster many times in her home. When she passed away, I was honored to bring it home with me. However, I never found the right spot for it...until now. I've recently integrated pops of orange into my living room, and the blues I already had blended perfectly. Needless to say, I was delighted to bring this out of the closet and put it in a prominent place.

The gold birdcage in front of Grandmother's picture was a wedding gift from a special friend 30 years ago. I've hauled it from house to house through the years, making it a standard part of my decor.

I had some extra candles, so I put three on a white ceramic dish and poured colored stones and river rocks around them. I love how the stones almost glow in the candlelight.

My one and only purchase was the old window on the right. It came from my favorite neighborhood antique mall and cost a whopping $18. As the "before and after" shots below clearly show: You don't have to spend big bucks to make a BIG difference. I don't know about y'all, but I'm loving the change.

Before After

I'm reposting my blog from yesterday, linking up with Tabletop Tuesday. My first time at this party, and I'm always late. Always. Instead of getting out more, I guess I need to stay in and blog more.

Looking Back Can Be A Good Thing

2012-01-21T10:55:00.000-06:00

Sometimes you have to look back and see where you've been in order to truly appreciate where you are. I did a little "looking back" this week, thumbing through old journals, page by painful page. A prayer I wrote during a dreadfully bleak season reminded me of how faithful God has been. The prayer was one sentence: "Lord, my world is changing, but you stay the same."

Truth is, nothing is secure in life these days. Not jobs. Not friendships. Not finances. Not family. Not mortgages. Not marriages. Indeed, life is one big pile of shifting sand. But God... God remains the same. Day, after day and year, after year, we can place our trust in Him, knowing the Rock beneath us will not move. ♦

"He will not suffer thy foot to be moved; he that keepeth thee will not slumber." Psalm 121:3

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I'm linking up with one of my favorite blogs, Spiritual Sundays.

Smoky Mountain Rain

2012-01-17T19:07:00.000-06:00

My twin and I spent a week atop a Smoky Mountain recently. I've been daydreaming of returning ever since. It was a true paradise. We discussed buying a cabin and becoming recluses in our old age. It sounds promising, but until then, I'll look at my photo albums and dream on. This particular picture was shot one morning after a foggy rain moved in. It was perfect weather for hanging in our pjs, drinking hot cocoa and playing Scrabble. We did all three, of course.

I'm linking up today with Outdoor Wednesday. I love browsing the bloggers who post there, and I'm sure you would, too. Join me?

He Cares

2012-01-08T12:26:00.000-06:00

"Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you."

1 Peter 5:7 (NIV)

Capturing the Common

2012-01-02T00:16:00.000-06:00

Today, I'm joining Mary for her Mosaic Monday. Her mosaics are always sensational.

I've chosen to do a mosaic highlighting common things that brought me joy this past year. I'm not privileged to spend much time away from the office, so each day, I look for something unique and beautiful to brighten my world. I'm a firm believer that beauty exists wherever we are. All we have to do is take time to look around. ♦

A Beautiful Beginning

2012-01-01T17:18:00.001-06:00

What a gorgeous first day of 2012! A stunning blue sky with a majestic half-moon, looking down among the pines in my backyard. I couldn't resist snapping a picture. ♦

Dear Lord, as a new year unfolds, help me to realize that life isn't always fair and storms come to us all, but beauty can often be found within my own backyard.

2011 ~ The Year In Pictures

2011-12-31T14:43:00.000-06:00

This has been a year of unexpected struggles for me. A year of dealing with what is and what won't ever be again. Some of the struggles I thought were behind me. Others have been new skirmishes on new terrain. However, where shadows are, sunshine is, too. Overall, it was a good year and one of the fastest ones that I can recall.

2011 - Looking Back

January - Holding Ainsley for the first time.

February - Showing off my first painting after my first (and only) class.

March - Getting ahead of spring-cleaning.

April - Watching the waves on Galveston Island.

May - Making memories on Mother's Day weekend.

June - A month of sun, fun, fresh veggies and lampshades.

July - Babysitting Miss Ainsley.

August - Nana house-sits and Ainsley entertains.

September - Birthday month for Nana and "official" picture time.

October - A road trip to the Smokies with Twin Sis.

November - Seeing what the Nutcracker Market is all about.

December - A month of giving, receiving and special birthdays.

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Happy New Year to you and yours. I hope 2012 is a year of prosperity, promise and peace.

Baby Ruth Cookies

2011-12-30T18:33:00.001-06:00

I love how Facebook brings you together with long-lost friends you would never have reconnected with otherwise. One such friend sent me this cookie recipe for the holidays. Baby Ruth is my favorite candy bar, so it was a perfect fit.

The key to a great, gooey, soft cookie is not overcooking. I removed mine from the oven in 10 minutes. The next batch I left in for 12. They were hard and had to be thrown out.

Baby Ruth Cookies
1 1/3 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 tsp. baking soda
1/4 tsp. salt
1/2 cup butter (or margarine)
3/4 cup sugar
1 egg
1/2 tsp. vanilla
1 - 1 1/2 cups of Baby Ruth candy bars chopped

Sift flour, baking soda and salt and set aside.
Cream butter and sugar together until light and fluffy. Add vanilla.
Stir in dry ingredients untill well blended, then mix in candy.
Chill dough for 30 minutes.
Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
Drop dough by teaspoons onto parchment lined cookie sheet.
Bake 10 - 12 minutes, but do not overcook. They will NOT be brown, but a blonde color.
Remove from cookie sheet and cool on wire rack.

Yields: 2 1/2 - 3 dozen

Click on link (Foodie Friday) for more delicious recipes.

Leslie Has A Birthday

2011-12-30T09:30:00.000-06:00

As hard as it is to believe, my Leslie turns 26 today. I'm grateful for the joy she's brought to my life. She's outgrown my lap, but she'll never outgrow my heart.

Happy Birthday, Leslie! May your wishes come true.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Dogsitting Charlie Girl

2011-12-29T13:10:00.000-06:00

My daughter is on a flight to Las Vegas to celebrate her birthday tomorrow with friends. I reluctantly agreed to dogsit while she's away. So far this morning, my firewood tarp has been left in pieces and firewood has been scattered all over my patio. Not exactly how I envisioned my vacation, but...

Live and learn.

Jesus - God With Us

2011-12-24T23:32:00.000-06:00

In foretelling Jesus' birth, the prophet Isaiah wrote. “For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counselor, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace.” God had revealed himself through various means in the Old Testament--mainly through his Word--but this time, God would reveal himself in flesh.

Colossians 1:15 describes Jesus as "the image of the 'invisible' God." Indeed, the Creator had come to live among his creation. Not so he could better know us, but so we could better know him. Not so he could feel our pain, but so we could know that he felt ours. And not to condemn us of our sins, but to redeem us once and for all. What a glorious gift to mankind.

I hope you and yours have a merry Christmas filled with love, peace and good will.

My Magical Tree

2011-12-22T22:00:00.000-06:00

I find great pleasure in putting Christmas carols on, dimming the room lights and staring at my tree. Night or day, it's truly magical.

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Linking to Show and Tell Friday.

Oh, Christmas Tree

2011-12-19T15:50:00.000-06:00

Linking to Mosaic Monday.

Homemade Christmas

2011-12-18T13:02:00.001-06:00

Our family draws names for Christmas, and after much debate, we decided on homemade gifts this year. Instead of swapping lists and shopping for each other, we would make a one-of-a-kind something, or—for those less crafty—maybe bake a favorite goodie to exchange.

Yesterday found me working diligently on one of my gifts. I've never crocheted scarves before (I'm the queen of afghans), but this is turning out to be the Year of the Scarf. It's ice blue, velvety soft, and I hope I'm done in time for Santa to deliver it!

Home for Christmas - 2011

2011-12-14T21:07:00.000-06:00

Welcome to my home, sweet home! At the end of long days, it is my haven of rest, and I'm grateful for God's provisions. I didn't do a lot of "decking the halls" this year, but I do hope you enjoy looking around.

I found this old window at an antique mall. My twin sister was kind enough to buy it for me. It hangs in an opened arch over my piano. I wonder what stories it could tell.

This wreath seemed to fit it perfectly.

Wrapping gifts is a joy for me, and I take great pains in choosing paper.

Extra Christmas ornaments make a lovely display in my Waterford bowl,

a wedding gift from almost 30 years ago. It is a treasure of mine.

The decorative plate is dated 1985, the year my daughter was born.

It was another gift from my beloved twin, and another treasure of mine.

An evening shot of my piano. I LOVE the many reflections in this picture.

A simple mantel of beads and balls.

For my dining room table, I started with an old garland,

spray painted a few pine cones, scattered some old ornaments

and strung an ancient string of chipped green lights I can't seem to part with.

My tree is the real show stopper. It was purchased after moving into my

home a few years ago. I had lived in an apartment for five years, and

needed something new and fresh. I could spend hours just staring at its spendor.

My daughter's dear dog Charlie was visiting Grandma

and was wondering when she could join the festivities inside.

A nighttime shot, looking in.

Thank you for stopping by! I hope you and yours have a very merry Christmas, and I'm excited to see your home and all your holiday cheer.

Linking up with:

The Nester's 2011 Christmas Tour of Homes

Monday Musing

2011-12-12T14:30:00.001-06:00

It's been awhile since I've been to Blogville, but I'm here today, grateful for a God who is bigger than any problem that arises. Storm clouds are hovering around those I love, but I am a witness that, when day turns to night, and life isn't going as we planned, God will lead us through the fog if we put our hand in his.

On a happier note, I put my Christmas tree up earlier this month. Its brilliance brings me great delight in the evenings, along with a fire in the fireplace, Christmas music in the background and hazelnut coffee in my cup.

Until we meet again, my blogging pals, I pray that your December days are merry and bright.

Giving Thanks

2011-11-19T11:42:00.000-06:00

Life is filled with seasons, and at this season of my life, I am most thankful for my dear parents. They have set a godly example to me through the years and have been such pillars of strength, offering unconditional love, prayers and wisdom. My gratitude for them is immense, and only eternity will reveal the full impact their lives have had.

I'm linking to Spiritual Sundays, where Thanksgiving is this week's theme.

Mosaic Monday: Sky Gazing

2011-11-14T18:52:00.009-06:00

For the last week or so, I've been snapping pictures of the sky as I make my way to and from work. It started with a breathtaking sunrise, and it's continued almost daily. I'm having so much fun that I've decided to make this a part of my day. I never cease to be awed by God's masterpieces.

Here are a few shots from the past couple of weeks. Remember, these are taken with my iPhone, while driving as fast as the law allows, trying to watch the road and watch the sky. Sometimes my windows and windshield are dirty to boot, but the majesty always comes through.

Linking to Mosaic Monday.

Mother/Daughter/Granddog

2011-11-06T16:01:00.000-06:00

I love it when my kid comes to visit for the weekend. Several weeks ago, she'd asked me to take some shots of her and Charlie for a possible Christmas card, so we did that on Saturday. It was perfect weather, and all three of us had loads of fun. Here are a few outtakes.

Sunset Blues

2011-10-24T18:47:00.002-05:00

I just returned from a trip to the Smoky Mountains with my twin sister. One evening we grabbed our cameras and went sunset chasing. I couldn't resist sharing this shot of gorgeous blues on Smiling Sally's Blue Monday blog.

Smoky Mountain Getaway

2011-10-23T13:26:00.000-05:00

If you've been holding your breath, wondering where I am and when I'll blog again, you get to breathe out now. The twin and I just returned from a birthday road trip to the Smoky Mountains, my very favorite spot for ushering in fall. It was a refreshing time for us both.

Words can't describe the beauty--and cameras can't quite capture it--but I'm posting a few of the masterpieces the Master created while we were there. Enjoy.

Alas, tomorrow, I return to "normal" life, but I'll carry these memories with me for a long time to come. If you've never experienced the Smokies in the fall, you should put it on your calendar for next year. You'll be glad you did.

Finished

2011-10-03T19:50:00.002-05:00

Back in June, I posted about bringing a pop of orange into my living room via a light-weight afghan. I've worked on it sporadically, at best, but it is now finished. Someone requested I post an "after" picture, and here it is. It's exactly what I hoped for....and just in time for fall!

Do Not Worry

2011-10-01T13:23:00.007-05:00

As a divorced woman, way past my prime, the realities of life occasionally haunt my habitat. What will tomorrow look like for me? Will I have to work till I'm deaf and drooling? Will I die in my house alone?

During such times of anxious thinking, God's Word is my greatest source of strength. A particular inspiring reading for me is the Sermon on the Mount, where Jesus instructs us not to worry about the necessities of life.

"Consider the lillies of the field," he said, "how they grow." They don't work or sew, yet kings aren't clothed in such royal finery.

And what about the birds of the air? They don't sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet, not a day goes by that they aren't fed.

"Therefore, do not worry about tomorrow," Jesus said, and I hear him talking to me. "Even if your health fails and your work ends and you're deaf and drooling and others aren't there for you and can't provide for you, I can, and I will. So cease the worrying, sweet child of mine. I'm all you need. " ♦

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"Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?" Matthew 6:26 (NIV)

I'm linking up with Spiritual Sundays. Please click over and be blessed.

Amazing God

2011-08-19T18:52:00.000-05:00

My dad had cataract surgery last week. I talked to him right after the procedure. He was in good spirits, hoping the outcome for this eye would be as good as the first one had been.
Isn't it amazing what skilled physicians can do?

The Great Physican is even more amazing.

Need heart surgery? (Psalm 51:10)

Eye surgery? (Luke 24:31)

Ear surgery? (Mark 7:35)

Or maybe you need cosmetic surgery. God's skilled hands aren't limited to making the old LOOK new; he makes the old BRAND new. (2 Cor. 5:17)

Best of all, his office never closes, and the transformation is free.

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I'm reposting my blog from earlier this week and linking to a favorite place of mine: Spiritual Sundays. Click on over!

A Chocolate Sundae at Lunch

2011-07-27T23:32:00.000-05:00

I generally choose to lunch in my car and let the world go by. Call me weird, but I enjoy the serenity and alone time. Once the burger is finished, I head over to Sonic and order a chocolate sundae. True, I often pay more for the sundae than the burger, but the creamy, rich treat is well worth it to me. Especially during these dog days of summer.

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I'm sharing at Simple Pleasures today.

Mercy

2011-07-24T15:09:00.001-05:00

I’m a bit late coming to Gypsy Mama's "Five Minute Friday," where bloggers are encouraged to write for five minutes on a one-word prompt. The linky is open all week, so maybe I won’t be the last to arrive. All writers need prompting on occasion, and today’s prompt is: Full.

GO!

Before I leave for work every morning, I pray the Lord’s Prayer, asking for my daily bread, for forgiveness as I forgive others, and for deliverance from evil. At the end of that prayer, I thank God for his mercy.

To me, God’s mercy is like a pitcher of life-giving water. No matter how much I drink today, it’s filled again tomorrow.

No matter how many times I fall. No matter how many times I call. No matter how many times I disappoint. The Mercy Pitcher is filled to the brim with every sunrise.

During the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus said, “Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy.”

No matter how many times people disappoint me, or fail me, or sin against me, I should be full of mercy on their behalf. That is easier said than done, of course.

From personal experience, when a person wrongs you for purely selfish reasons, and their actions affect you negatively in significant ways, the human side of you wants to see them suffer as you suffered.

But mercy is always in order. It was Abraham Lincoln who said, "I have always found that mercy bears richer fruits than strict justice."

Indeed.

STOP!

Simple Pleasure - Writing

2011-07-20T21:46:00.000-05:00

As a long-time writer, I've had my share of writer's block. Times when words refused to flow and sentences refused to form. Hours of sitting at the computer, staring at a blank screen, wondering why it had to be so difficult. With that being said, nothing is more rewarding (or pleasurable) than bulldozing through the brick wall until words come flooding in.

I don't write as often as I once did, but I did a bit of writing this week, and I'm happy to report that the pleasure still outweighs all the pain.

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I'm linking to my twin's Simple Pleasure. Come on over.

Some Moments Should Be Private

2011-07-20T18:30:00.000-05:00

Pardon the lazy way of sharing, but a friend's comment on my short Facebook note, "Think Before You Snap,"reminded me of an article I wrote years ago on the topic of privacy. Sadly, things haven't changed since I wrote it. If you're interested in reading it, clicking twice should optimize the viewing.

Saturday Shoppers

2011-07-16T10:24:00.001-05:00

A day of shopping planned with my daughter. Shopping for stuff stuff and looking at apartments.

Her job is relocating and she'll be moving out on her own. She's been "out" before, but she's always had a roommate. Of course, she'll have her big dog Charlie with her, so that will make her mother feel better. Heehee.
Later, 'gators.

Ice Cold Ginger Ale

2011-06-29T22:09:00.000-05:00

Photo by Gayle

During these dog days of summer, nothing refreshes me like a glass of ice cold ginger ale. A few sips of its sparkling, crisp flavor, and all is right with my world. Can't get much simpler than that.

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My twin is hosting Simple Pleasures. What's yours?

When Duty Calls

2011-06-28T14:35:00.000-05:00

This past weekend found me in an emergency animal clinic with Charlie, my granddog. Charlie's mother was out of town on a business trip and Charlie's constant biting of her left leg had turned into a bloody mess.

Dealing with a 78-pound dog, who doesn't understand the word "heel," and doesn't love her neighbor as herself is tough for anyone, but certainly for a woman of small stature like me.

However, it had to be done, and there we were, in the vet's office at 11 p.m. on a Saturday night.

After a consulation, the doctor took Charlie back while I waited in the lobby, drinking coffee and scanning through magazines. A lady about my age walked in with a gray cat in a blue crate. Once seated, the lady took the cat out and began carressing her and talking softly.

The cat was making strange sounds and had a distorted appearance. Her mouth was open and her paws seemed drawn. With a teary face, the lady looked at me and said, "I think she's dying." After expressing how sorry I was, a tear slid down my face. The cat's name was Chloe, and she was 14 years old.

In a few minutes, the technician came and took Chloe back. Oxygen was given, but in the end, Chloe didn't make it. It was a sad time for all. The lady thanked me for "helping" her in her time of need, and my heart hurt as she took her empty crate and walked out alone.

Before I could get too emotional, however, Charlie was back, loopy from a pain injection with a "lampshade" on her head. I had no idea how I'd get her in the car and back home again, but when duty calls, we do what we have to do.

With a prayer for the lady who lost her cat, I hung on to the leash and embarked on the challenge at hand.

Give and Receive

2011-06-25T13:31:00.000-05:00

The story of Jesus feeding five thousand is one of my favorites in the Bible. What a miracle! And so many life lessons there.

When the disciples told Jesus that a little boy had five loaves and two fish, Jesus said, "Bring them here to me." Notice, he didn't ask for what they didn't have, or for what the situation required. He only needed what they had.

I wonder how many miracles we've forfeited because we didn't bring what we had to God. Instead of giving in the offering Sunday morning, we clung to our cash, knowing a bill was coming due and funds were already too low to pay it. The little boy's lunch-for-one was multiplied thousands of times over, of course, but only after he surrendered it to the Master.

Food for Thought: When placed in God's hands, what you have can become much more than you need.

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Join me at Spiritual Sundays.

Spice Girl

2011-06-21T19:29:00.000-05:00

Once a spice comes home with me, a lifetime in my cabinet is guaranteed: I don't throw spices out. Ever.

I've got pre-historic celery seed, dry mustard in a rusty can, and ground cloves that were "best by" 1992.

It's an odd devotion, I suppose, but what can I say?

Of course, spices cost an arm, and a leg, and your firstborn child, so maybe I'm just cheap where spices are concerned. I don't know.

What I do know is that back in ancient times, dead bodies were anointed with spices. Egyptians were even buried with theirs. I'm sure some find that strange, but not me. I actually like the idea.

In fact, as soon as I'm done blogging here, I'm going to edit my "funeral wishes" to include being laid to rest on a sumptuous bed of bay leaves. I hear they're good bug repellents, too. And hey, the way I see it, that's a win, win.

A Needle and Thread

2011-06-19T19:07:00.000-05:00

I've been wanting to incorporate a vibrant orange into my living room for awhile now, so I gave up on finding the perfect throw pillows and am going with a light-weight afghan instead. Crocheting costs such little money, but it brings such therapeutic joy at the end of my day. If I find the perfect pillows, I'll buy them. But in the meantime, I'm enjoying Plan B.

Enchanting

2011-06-17T18:00:00.001-05:00

There's an enchanting arboretum a few miles from my house. Not only is it a feast for the eyes, it provides a soothing serenity that money can't buy. I go there whenever I can. On this particular day, my daughter took a quick dash (and splash) through the water wall.

That's me on the bench, catching a quick nap.

Leslie, soaking it all in.

Majestic.

Pretty in pink.

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It's been awhile since I joined Cindy's Show and Tell Friday, so I am. Happy weekend y'all.

Mad Monday

2011-06-13T22:36:00.000-05:00

A mad Monday.

I dreamed of an exotic island without phones or fax or email.

I thought of running away from home.

I guess I'm too old for a Prince Charming, but if I have many more Mondays like today, a retired RVer might turn my head.

Fresh Finds

2011-06-04T17:43:00.000-05:00

I never see, smell, slice or taste fresh-from-the-garden produce without marveling at the Creator's mighty hands. The fact that a single seed, when planted and nurtured, can return such goodness is beyond mortal comprehension.

Happy weekend to you all. It's hot in Texas.
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Linking to Spiritual Sundays. Click over and hang out!

A Special Blogger

2011-06-01T22:05:00.001-05:00

My daughter is joining me in blog land. Her first day was yesterday. Having her along for the blogging journey is my simple pleasure this week. I hope you'll stop by her blog, leave some encouraging words and "follow" her: Going Stag

P. S. Tell her her momma sent you. :-)
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Joining my twin sis for Simple Pleasures.

Watermelon Under the Gazebo

2011-05-31T22:50:00.001-05:00

My juicy piece.

My dear father.

I'm linking up with Outdoor Wednesday and Wordless Wednesday. Come over and visit.

Memorial Day

2011-05-30T10:38:00.001-05:00

The attached article appeared in The Dallas Morning News in 2003, the Sunday before Memorial Day. Its message is timeless, so I'm doing a "lazy blog" and posting it here today. Click twice for optimal reading. Happy Memorial Day to you all.

Click twice of optimal reading.

Simple Pleasure ~ Riding With Miss Leslie

2011-05-25T22:38:00.000-05:00

It was a perfect Saturday. Me. Her. Heading to my parents' house for Mother's Day. Her driving used to scare me, but not today. We opened the sunroof and enjoyed the sunshine on our shoulders.

Linking to my twin's Simple Pleasures.

Morning's Reward

2011-05-22T13:01:00.000-05:00

It's 8:30, Friday morning. I’m following my sister down the massive aisles of The Home Depot.

Although the day is young, spring is in the air and Dayle is on a mission. Each year, her green thumb produces award-winning lawns fit for the pages of Better Homes and Gardens. I sense this year will be no exception as we enter the sun-filled nursery.

Trying to sound educated in horticultural matters, I chat about familiar plants nearby, but Dayle isn't listening. Solemn-faced, she studies an array of lush begonias--red, pink and white ones.

Almost reverently, she touches the velvety green leaves, noting each minute detail. Then, carefully, she places three flats of the sanctioned plants onto the waiting wagon.

Caladiums are next, sporting bounteous foliage with broad green margins and deeply veined ruby hearts. Dayle meticulously scrutinizes each plant before choosing.

The wagon is getting difficult, and we leave it behind in search of geraniums.

Gorgeous, grand blossoms nod in the sunlight as we approach, their brilliance breath-taking. A lone red one is promptly selected.

At the check-out register, Dayle inquires about mulch and potted ferns, decides on both, and pays the smiling clerk. I guard the wagon while she fetches the truck.

Within minutes, she returns, gingerly places her prized plants in the back, securing them for the ride home. The mulch is hoisted on board, and we head for the house and unload.

I render myself useless in a lawn chair while Dayle ponders her planting strategy.

Noon arrives and the horticulturist pauses for lunch.

As evening approaches, the young plants are affectionately watered. Dayle wipes her brow, puts her tools away, and joins me on the deck where we admire the fruits of her labor.

"It's a lot of hard work," she says, "but in the morning, it's always worth it."

And so it is with life. Planting. Weeding. Watering. Giving of ourselves for the Kingdom’s sake. Knowing that, when evening shadows fall and our time on earth is over, our labors will render us a glorious reward…in the morning....when we rise.

Thought for the Day: Today's discomfort cannot compare with tomorrow's reward.

___________

Linking to Spiritual Sundays, a great place to spend Sunday afternoon.

God is Great. God is Good.

2011-05-21T21:36:00.000-05:00

Treasures of Summer

I'm a Southern girl head-to-toe, and we ate lots of tomato sandwiches growing up. White bread. Mayo. Tomato. Salt. It's still a favorite summer treat of mine. I just had my first tomato sandwich of the season, and it was divine.

Colors

2011-05-16T17:59:00.000-05:00

I was in a hurry, but they were too pretty not to stop and snap.

The Creator's gifts never cease to amaze me. He could've created all things green, or blue or brown. But he didn't.

I'm GLAD.

2011-05-08T09:56:00.000-05:00

Happy Mother's Day, blogger moms!

May your day be blessed.

My beloved mother.

Mothers Wear Many Hats

2011-05-06T17:14:00.001-05:00

One of my favorite pictues.

In December of 1985, I became a mother. Seeing my newborn for the first time was a moment I'll never forget. She was so innocent. So perfect. A tiny package from the Master's hand.

In my years of writing, I've written myriad articles about motherhood and mothering—some serious; some not. Oddly enough, my very first column in The Dallas Morning News remains one of my favorites. My newborn was approaching the teen years, and life was anything but simple or serene.

I'm posting the column this weekend in honor of mothers who stay at home full-time and raise their offspring. It can be a thankless job, and it's often ignored by those in the press. But raising children is the most challenging, influential and rewarding job a woman can have.

Happy Mother's Day, dear ones. Make each day count, and may God bless you...abundantly! I do trust you can read the column OK. (It's the lazy way to post, as my wombmate says.) It starts like this:

While perusing the employment classifieds a few days ago, I made a startling discovery: As a stay-at-home mom, I qualify for every job listed. Secretarial. Accounting. Sales. Medical. Dental. Entertainment. Salon Personnel. Couriers. You name it; I qualify. In fact, the only thing missing from my multifaceted resume is an impresive title, enhancing my impressive skills.

~ Click on article twice for optimum reading. ~

I'm linking to Spiritual Sundays. Click over and check it out.

Simple Pleasure - Lunch With Someone You Love

2011-05-04T22:06:00.000-05:00

Me and my adorable great niece, Ainsley.

A few days ago, three people, dear to my heart, joined me for lunch in a gazebo near my work. Yes, the gazebo is in the middle of a cemetary, but it's a peaceful (and always quiet) place to escape. :-) I returned to work refreshed and ready for whatever.

Joining my twin for her Simple Pleasures party.

Simple Pleasure - A Getaway

2011-04-28T09:13:00.004-05:00

I took a few days off last week to hang out near the waves and relax. So many pleasures awaited me:

Red geraniums at the door.

Cool sand between my toes.

Seagulls on the beach.

Seagulls in the air.

Morning coffee from the balcony.

A king-sized bed fit for a queen.

__________________

I'm joining my twin for her blog party: Simple Pleasures

Teen Tramps

2011-04-19T14:39:00.000-05:00

A friend on Facebook linked to an article today about inappropriate attire for young girls. It reminded me of an article I wrote 10 years ago on the same topic. I'm glad somebody else is finally noticing and speaking out.

Sadly, you can't dictate what your kids wear when they become adults, but parents shouldn't let that stop them from leading their children in the right way early on.

I'm posting a link to my article, which originally appeared in the Dallas Morning News. It was later reprinted by the Jewish World Review. For me, it still packs a powerful punch, and its message is timeless. If you know parents of teens, I hope you'll pass it along.

http://www.jewishworldreview.com/0701/cox070901.asp

Simple Pleasure - Home

2011-04-14T13:28:00.000-05:00

As a ~~wonder~~ working woman, weekends are for doing things that can't be done during the week. One of my favorite things to "do" is enjoy my humble abode and the lovely things the Creator has blessed me with. It's simple, but brings me much pleasure.

Linking to Dayle's (i.e., my wombmate's) Simple Pleasures party.

Happy Birthday, Mother

2011-04-08T16:42:00.000-05:00

Mother and Me

Mother with her dolls.

Mother with her brood. (Dayle, Elaine & Gayle)

My mother's birthday is Monday. I'll be spending time with her this weekend. I'm beyond grateful for the moments we share. For the life she's lived. For the example she is. It's a privilege calling her "Mom."

Most Christians are familiar with the "virtuous woman" passage in Proverbs. Those verses of Scripture depict my mother perfectly. In her honor, I'm posting them today. In any translation, it's a lovely read. Here it is from The Message.

Proverbs 31:10-31

(The Message)

Hymn to a Good Wife

A good woman is hard to find,

and worth far more than diamonds.

Her husband trusts her without reserve,

and never has reason to regret it.

Never spiteful, she treats him generously

all her life long.

She shops around for the best yarns and cottons,

and enjoys knitting and sewing.

She's like a trading ship that sails to faraway places

and brings back exotic surprises.

She's up before dawn, preparing breakfast

for her family and organizing her day.

She looks over a field and buys it,

then, with money she's put aside, plants a garden.

First thing in the morning, she dresses for work,

rolls up her sleeves, eager to get started.

She senses the worth of her work,

is in no hurry to call it quits for the day.

She's skilled in the crafts of home and hearth,

diligent in homemaking.

She's quick to assist anyone in need,

reaches out to help the poor.

She doesn't worry about her family when it snows;

their winter clothes are all mended and ready to wear.

She makes her own clothing,

and dresses in colorful linens and silks.

Her husband is greatly respected

when he deliberates with the city fathers.

She designs gowns and sells them,

brings the sweaters she knits to the dress shops.

Her clothes are well-made and elegant,

and she always faces tomorrow with a smile.

When she speaks she has something worthwhile to say,

and she always says it kindly.

She keeps an eye on everyone in her household,

and keeps them all busy and productive.

Her children respect and bless her;

her husband joins in with words of praise:

"Many women have done wonderful things,

but you've outclassed them all!"

Charm can mislead and beauty soon fades.

The woman to be admired and praised

is the woman who lives in the Fear-of-God.

Give her everything she deserves!

Festoon her life with praises!
________

Thank you, Lord, for blessing me with a godly mother. Her fingerprints are forever stamped on my life.

Joining Spiritual Sundays. I hope your weekend is wonderful.

Simple Pleasure - Pretty High Heels

2011-04-06T20:18:00.001-05:00

Despite a notable crash landing, two small bunions and a few corns, I've been a lover (and a wearer) of high heels since my 13th birthday. Blame Mother, if you will. She had some dynamite shoes when I was a kid, and she could sashay across a room like nobody's business. I couldn't wait to grow up and follow suit.

And one day, I did. It was a red-letter day, indeed. Charlie's Shoe Store. Meridian, MS. The color was black and cream. Slingbacks. Tiny laces across the throat. No ifs, ands or buts about it, I was head-over-high heels in love. Mother said yes, I jumped for joy, and a love affair began.

I wore my leopard high heels today (seen above), and I felt like a million bucks. Crash landings, bunions and corns? Please. Don't make me laugh, girlfriend. It's a small price to pay for something so pleasurable.

________________

I'm joining my twin sister at her Simple Pleasures party today. If high heels cause you more pain than pleasure, that's OK. Tell her what makes you smile. She really wants to know. :-)

"Jesus Loves Me"

2011-03-25T16:30:00.001-05:00

I shared this video clip at another blog gathering yesterday. However, I think it's a great one to share for Spiritual Sundays, too.

It was taken December 31, 1988, the day after my daughter's third birthday. Watching her as a young child can make me laugh or make me cry, but either way, I'm always grateful for such priceless moments frozen in time. I can't watch this clip without smiling. I hope it makes you smile, too.

Please welcome Miss Leslie as she sings, "Jesus Loves Me."

Abiding Faith

2011-03-11T12:28:00.000-06:00

After a week of valleys and plateaus, I was seeking a few uplifting words of faith for the journey, you might say. Some reassurances of God's all-seeing eye in the affairs of mankind. Well, I'm happy to report that I found some words of faith: In my very own blog—post, after post, after post. "God knows." "God sees." "God cares."

It wasn't the first time I've been my own inspiration. Countless times I've thumbed through old journals and found words I penned during times of great loss, lighting the pathway for today. Or maybe I woke up singing one of my songs, written decades ago, bringing hope to my heart again.

I love it when that happens. Not because I'm somebody special, understand, but because looking back and seeing how my faith has endured—through famine and feast, sunshine and rain, midnight and morning—is the best faith-builder there is.

Some say it's silly to believe that God is aware of mere mortals, or that he has anything to do with anything that happens in life, but I disagree. His Word says otherwise, and I choose to believe that no matter how small the problem in my hand might be, God knows, he sees, and he cares.

If you're doubting that today, my friend, you've not clicked on my blog by accident. He knew, he saw and he cared. Embrace his promises and be blessed.

____________________

"Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? Yet not one of them is forgotten by God. Indeed, the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows," Luke 12:6-7 (NIV).

I'm linking to Spiritual Sundays, a great place to find inspiration.

Just Grateful

2011-03-05T23:25:00.000-06:00

My heart has been filled with gratitude this week for:

1. My precious daughter, and the relationship we share.

2. My dear parents, and the love they freely give.

3. My two sisters, and the memories we've made through life.

4. My great-paying job, working for people who appreciate my skills.

5. My health.

6. My home.

7. My faith in God -- through it all.

________________

Linking to Spiritual Sundays.

Simple Pleasure ~ A Juicy Orange

2011-03-02T21:46:00.000-06:00

I know my simple pleasures often focus on food, but what can I say? Eating is one of life's greatest rewards. In fact (pardon me while I digress a bit), when I'm alone, saying grace over my food, it goes something like this:

"Thank you, dear God, for this food. For the money to buy it, the strength to cook it and the desire and ability to eat it."

I mean every word of that prayer.

Of course, some delicious rewards don't need cooking--like oranges. I love slirping on a sweet, juicy orange. Two napkins required.

Got a simple pleasure? Share it at my twin sister's weekly blog party: Simple Pleasures.

Glorious Gifts

2011-02-26T12:45:00.001-06:00

While outside on a recent Sunday afternoon, on a ladder, doing a man's job, I paused and looked skyward. The Master's handiwork was on full display. The sky was a stunning blue, and the clouds were whiter than the driven snow.

As the wind picked up speed, the puffs of white sailed across the heavens, swirling and twirling like graceful dancers on a stage. Suddenly, the wind chime burst into rapturous applause, and my mind, body and soul felt totally born again. Ah. What glorious gifts our Father doth bestow.

Linking to Spiritual Sundays.

God Speaks. Are You Listening?

2011-02-19T14:12:00.002-06:00

The 23rd Channel

My HDTV is my shepherd;

My spiritual growth shall want.

It maketh me to sit down and do nothing.

It leadeth me away from faith and family.

It destroyeth my soul.

It leadeth me in the paths of unrighteousness;

I am useless for his Name’s sake.

Yea, though I witness violence, immorality and wicked deeds,

I shall keep on watching.

For my HDTV is my treasure.

Its sound and its picture, they comfort me.

It presenteth entertainment before me and robs me of precious time.

Surely nothing good shall come of my life,

And I will remain deaf to the voice of God forever.

_________________

I'm linking to Spiritual Sundays, where faith lifts are free.

Simple Pleasures ~ Mom and Dad

2011-02-09T20:32:00.000-06:00

At some point every day, I thank God for my beloved parents. Although I don’t subscribe to borrowing trouble, occasionally, I try to imagine my world without their voices…their smiles…their words of encouragement…their hugs…their daily prayers for me and my daughter. It's a sobering thought, for sure.

I wrote a song many years ago called, "One Time Around." It talks about the brevity of life, and how important it is to make each day count. Part of the lyrics say, "Mom and Dad won't always be there when you finally get back home. They won't always stand with open arms asking, 'Why's it been so long?' If I could somehow stop that clock; make the sun stand still. But that's just wishful thinking; I know I never will. I've got to make each day count. I only have one time around."

So many of my parents' friends passed away last year, and I know Mom and Dad won't live forever. But having them here today is an immeasurable pleasure that I never take for granted. ♦

"Honor thy father and thy mother: that thy days may be long upon the land which the LORD thy God giveth thee," Exodus 20:12.

Linking to my twin sister's Simple Pleasures party. Hope to see you there.

"Consider the work of God." - Ecclesiastes 7:13

2011-02-05T22:22:00.001-06:00

"There is a God; this is the proof.

That all around the evidence is speaking the truth.

From the center of my soul to the edge of the universe.

Creation is crying out believe it or not,

There is a God."

33 Miles

Linking to Spiritual Sundays.

Mirror, Mirror, On The Wall

2011-02-04T17:19:00.000-06:00

According to the American Society for Aesthetic Plastic Surgery, almost 10 million cosmetic surgical and nonsurgical procedures were performed in 2009. A whopping 91 percent of those procedures went to the female gender.

Women, women, women. Why are we such malcontents when examining ourselves in the mirror?

Of course, we like to blame our body consciousness on outside forces – Hollywood, advertisers, men, etc. But for the most part, our image fastidiousness can't be blamed on others.

My sister told me about whining over her aging body one day. While she moaned and threw rocks at the mirror, her husband breezed by, looked at her source of agony and replied, "It looks mighty good to me."

Perhaps it's far-fetched, but I believe that women's dissatisfaction with their bodies comes not from without, but from within. There is an inane sense of discontentment within the female psyche, handed down from our discontented mother, Eve. Whether it is our bodies that need reshaping or our furniture that needs rearranging, we're never completely satisfied. In Eve's case, even paradise wasn't enough.

For the most part, men don't share our discontentment gene. For every nine females undergoing transformation in 2009, there was one lone male.

Men – as women like to say – "don't have to worry" about aging. They have wrinkles and gray hair, and nobody cares. They look dignified, distinguished and downright hot. Oh, boo, hoo, hoo. Poor pitiful us.

Well, it isn't that men don't "have" to worry about wrinkles and gray hair. Men just aren't worried.

They couldn't care less what color their hair is, and you won’t find them huddled around cosmetic counters buying eye cream, thigh cream and Oil of Olay. Their fingernails are real, their eyelashes are real, and no body part was purchased from doctors of medicine.

Sure, there are exceptions to every rule (Michael Jackson comes to mind), but as a whole, men are content with their looks; women aren't.

Don't get me wrong. I have nothing against women looking good, and if some nipping and tucking is in order, I'm not opposed. However, when our quest to look good results in "chemical peels," "lower body lifts," "thigh lifts" and "buttock lifts," things are out of control.

But, alas, out of control or not, until a cure is found for the mutant female discontentment gene, nothing is going to change. Women will continue scrutinizing themselves and complaining about every tiny flaw. And if they have to blame their discontentment on the devil – as their mother, Eve, did – they will. ♦

Oh, Baby!

2011-02-02T19:06:00.000-06:00

Great Auntie G and Ainsley.

Babies are, pretty much, heaven on earth. Here's me, holding my niece's bundle of joy again. She's growing and coming alive.

"Softly and Tenderly"

2011-01-29T16:26:00.004-06:00

A number of years ago, while vacationing in the Ozarks with my twin sister and her family, my daughter stumbled upon a wandering baby bird. A fierce storm had moved through the night before, and by all indications, the little bird had been blown from his nest, located in one of the tall trees surrounding our cottage.

Not sure what to do with a motherless baby bird, we gathered some grass and twigs and placed him atop one of the picnic tables on our high-rise deck. It was the best we could offer, but the little bird seemed quite perplexed on his bed of spiky twigs. He knew he didn't belong.

Dinner time came, and while my brother-in-law flipped burgers on the grill, my sister videotaped the little bird.

Suddenly, from out of nowhere, large drops of rain began to fall. The sky darkened, and in the distance, the sound of thunder rumbled across the hills. Another storm was moving in.

While we debated what to do with our unexpected visitor, the baby bird hopped off his make-shift nest, skittered across the picnic table, tumbled to the deck below and wobbled clumsily to the edge. Before we could stop him, he flapped his wings and sashayed to the ground, some 30-feet down. A suicide attempt, perhaps?

Not hardly.

There, on the trunk of one of the trees, was the little bird’s mother…chirping for all she was worth. A storm was brewing. She was worried. Her baby was lost.

Amazingly, even over our noisy chatter and the sizzling meat, the little bird had heard his mother calling. Now, he would follow her home.

As I watched the mother bird leading her little one up the trunk of the tall, tall tree, I marveled at God’s creation and pondered the importance parents play in the lives of their young.

I also thought of my Good Shepherd, and how he calls out to me whenever I'm drawn away by the winds of the world that blow. I might not grasp the danger of my wanderings, and I might not even care. But the Good Shepherd loves me dearly, and he won't rest until I'm safe with him at home. ♦

My Prayer: Dear God, as the little bird so eagerly responded to his mother's frantic chirping, may I eagerly come running whenever you call.

____________

Linking to Spiritual Sundays, where inspiration can be found.

Simple Pleasures - Bowl of Cherries

2011-01-26T20:52:00.001-06:00

The first time I plucked a fresh cherry from its stem and popped it in my mouth I fell in love. Sweet and juicy, with the perfect bit of crunch. Simply put: Simply delicious. Of course, those little red balls of goodness have powerful antioxidants, too. Sounds like a win-win to me.

If something simple makes you smile, share it at my twin sister's party: Simple Pleasures.

Doing Nothing Refreshes and Restores

2011-01-21T20:32:00.001-06:00

In 2002, my 20-year marriage ended in divorce. Wanting to be near family, I migrated south, put my belongings in storage and moved in with my sister until I could find work and get on my feet. It wasn’t as easy as I’d envisioned. After months of no interviews, I needed more space—physically, mentally and emotionally—so I loaded up a few things and headed to my parents’ house. It was a risky move, but something had to give.

Adjusting to life in a small town was challenging, for sure. Nothing exciting going on. Not even a fancy restaurant. Just a scattering of small businesses along Main Street, most of them locked down at sundown.

To complicate matters further, Mom and Dad aren’t your “normal” mom and dad. They have no televisions. No computers. No surfing of the web. The radio is Daddy's domain, and once the news is over, the radio is off.

In a nutshell, there just isn't much to do at Mother's house besides sit on the couch, eat lemon pie and watch logs burn in the fireplace.

Initially, I didn't do so well. I felt an inexplicable urgency to be busy. My canoe had capsized in the deep, blue sea, after all, and I needed to be doing something besides breathing and batting my eyelids. I mean, I really, really did!

Didn’t I?

No. Not really. Just the opposite, in fact.

Yes, I was drowning in a storm unlike any other, but for my own self-preservation, I needed to stop struggling, release my fears and be still for a spell. I needed to learn the art of doing nothing, you might say.

And, finally—after much kicking and screaming—I did.

I learned how to take deep, cleansing breaths, long, warm baths and slow, lazy strolls to the mailbox.

I learned how to see magic in the morning sun, dancing through the pines, outside my bedroom window.

I learned how to stare at nothing in the yard swing, while a choir of cicadas sang evening’s shadows away.

(The view from my window at Mother's house.)

I learned how perfectly round the moon is, how exquisitely detailed a sparrow is and how comforting flannel sheets are on cold Texas mornings.

In essence, I learned how to see--and not just look. How to feel--and not just touch. How to listen--and not just hear.

But above all, I learned that doing nothing clears the mind, strengthens the body and restores the spirit like nothing else can. Like a magical antidote for whatever ails you, it opens your heart to God's whisperings and focuses your eyes on things that matter most.

It puts life in perspective, you might say, so that wind-blown souls, capsized in the deep, blue sea, can sit peacefully on the couch, eating lemon pie, watching logs burn in the fireplace. ♦

“He maketh me to lie down in green pastures; he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul.” Psalm 23:2-3

___________

I'm linking to Spiritual Sundays, where Faith Lifts are free.

Resolutions

2011-01-10T19:42:00.000-06:00

This year I'm resolving to do things that I've always wanted to do but never took time to do them. Nothing earth-moving, understand. Just simple things that appeal to me.

For starters, I'm going to take painting classes. Since I was a kid, I've been amazed at what paints, brushes and skilled hands can produce. I don't expect to be an expert when the class is over, but I do expect to have loads of fun along the way. Maybe I'll even create something worthy of a wall.

Next on my list is to re-decorate my guest room with garage sale and flea market finds. I've considered it many times over the last two years, but I've never committed and taken the leap. This year, I'm diving in. It might take me a few weekends (maybe many weekends) to find what I want, but what fun I'll have looking!

My friend Ann wants me to take shooting lessons with her, and I've agreed. As a single woman, I feel safer with a weapon, and I'd like to get better skilled in that area of life. Ann has friends who own property, and I think it'll be fun to return to the Wild West every now and then and hit some targets.

Some say that guns are bad and kill people, but it's people who kill people. And if a person wants to kill, he doesn't need a gun. Just ask Jesus Christ.

I'm sure I'll embark on other exciting things over the next 12 months, but these three should keep me busy for awhile. Wish me well.

Seeing Single

2011-01-06T21:11:00.004-06:00

I never thought I'd be divorced after 20 years of marriage, but life doesn't always go as planned. Unexpected detours can be forced upon us by the decisions of others, and, like it or not, we find ourselves on strange roads in strange places.

For me, being a single woman again was a very strange place. While my husband had always dealt with our financial transactions, I had devoted most of my years to raising our daughter and being a wife.

Regrettably, I was clueless about so many things, and having to learn it so quickly was overwhelming at best. I couldn't sleep at night, fretting over "tomorrow" and how I was going to do what had to be done.

Fastforward nine years, and you'll see a strong woman, not easily frightened and capable of doing most anything. I have a great job, making more money than I ever dreamed. I have a lovely home, nestled among the pines. I have family and friends who love me, come rain or come shine.

Admittedly, some evenings I long for a special someone to share myself with on an intimate basis. A person to witness my life. To laugh when I laugh, and cry when I cry. Someone to hear me breathing, if you please.

However, despite those times of aloneness, I've come to understand that life without a husband has its upsides.

I cook only if I want to. I wash nobody's dirty clothes but mine. Nobody's wondering where I am, what I'm doing and when I'm coming home. And when the lights go out at night, nobody's sprawled on the opposite side of the bed, snoring like a diesel on an incline. Indeed, life alone isn't all bad.

Maybe Mr. Wonderful will show up one day, and maybe he won't. Either way, it doesn't matter. I'm focusing on what remains, and I'm liking what I see.

"For I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content."
Philippians 4:11

_______________

Linking up to Spiritual Sundays today, where soul food is served.

Simple Pleasures - Holding Ainsley Brielle

2011-01-05T21:05:00.000-06:00

I held Ainsley Brielle, my neice's newborn, for the first time last night. Sniffing her soft hair and skin sent me skyward. I was reminded of a song I wrote many years ago. A couple asked me to pen lyrics for their newborn daughter's dedication ceremony at church. I was honored to be a part of such a special occasion. I called it "Kimberly's Song." I'm posting them today with Ainsley in mind. Bless you, little one. Great-Auntie G loves you already.

KIMBERLY'S SONG

Music and Lyrics by Gayle A. Cox

A bundle of love

Sent from above

A dream come true.

Sugar 'n spice; everything nice;

Baby’s brand new.

Tiny hands; tiny feet

Eyes baby blue

We stand amazed;

Hearts filled with praise;

So grateful, Lord to you.

CHORUS:

She's our Master's piece; a work of art

A picture of love, created by God.

Perfection in lace; that smile on her face

Just a little child, but Lord, we pray

When she is grown others will say

What a Master's piece; a work of art

Created by God.

BRIDGE:

Let Your glory shine within her eyes;

Let her be the image of You.

A portrait of love; Your perfect love

Lord, let it shine through.

Repeat chorus.

Written especially for Kimberly Annette Cain.

_________

Joining my twin, Dayle, for Simple Pleasures.

2010 ~ The Year In Pictures

2011-01-01T17:49:00.003-06:00

January - Finding joy in the comforts of home.

February - Unexpected roses from a long-lost friend.

March - Glimpses of spring at Big Sister's house.

April - My dear mother celebrates another year of life, and...

...a puppy named Charlie charms us to the bone.

May - My lovely niece makes us all proud.

June - Daddy's tomatoes make summertime good.

July - The magical circus, shared with a friend.

August - My twin and B-I-L mark 30 years of marriage.

September - Fall fairies decorate my stoop, and ...

... my beautiful niece says, "I do."

October - Another birthday with my beloved twin.

November - Thanksgiving memories with people I cherish.

December - Ainsley Brielle comes into our lives, and ...

... my Sweet Sunshine turns 25.
___________

I hope 2010 held memorable times for you and yours.

Fleeting Seasons of Childhood

2010-12-30T08:18:00.000-06:00

It was a chilly evening in October. I was preparing for my annual garage sale and had solicited my 10-year-old's assistance in separating toys to keep from toys to sell. This was always a difficult assignment for me, and a little company would be nice.

Sitting on a small bench in the drafty garage, Leslie and I rummaged through the disorderly pile of playthings from days gone by—shabby dolls, wind-up gadgets, building blocks. And then, there was her beloved plastic food. So many memories were there, but space was a factor and something had to go.

After questioning Leslie about the play food—“Does it stay, or do we sell it?”—her expression suddenly became serious. Methodically, she took the various pieces and placed them in her lap.

"I used to have so much fun with these," she said, an uncharacteristic note of sadness in her voice.

Without warning, a huge lump settled in my throat. Not trusting myself to speak, I sat in silence as she struggled with the weighty matter at hand.

Afer a long time of staring at each piece, she gathered them all to her chest and gently lowered them into the towering box marked: "Garage Sale Stuff."

"Well…good-bye," she whispered, touching the pieces a moment longer before letting them go.

The garage was heavy with emotion. I looked at her, she looked at me, and tears began trickling down our cheeks.

"You can keep them if you want to," I said, fighting to turn back the speeding hands of time. She shook her head. "Are you sure?" I asked, sniffing unashamedly. She was sure; the food should go.

Wrapping my arms around her narrow shoulders, I knew that, alongside the beloved make-believe food, pieces of childhood lay inside the tall box, never to be seen again. A season had come and gone. My heart ached as I, too, reluctantly let go. ♦

(Leslie turns 25 today. My eyes are wet, and my heart is full. What a gift from God she is.)

God Is With Us. All Is Well.

2010-12-23T10:13:00.000-06:00

It doesn't take a pessimist to see that we are living in uncertain times. Global crisis and a global government are common topics of discussion these days. Chaos abounds.

During such uncertainty, the Christmas story has more meaning than ever for Christians everywhere.

Christmas isn't a story about Santa Claus, sleigh rides and chestnuts roasting on an open fire. It is a story about a starry night in Bethlehem, when Love entered the world, special delivery.

No longer would man have to live under the weight of sin. The little baby, wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger, was Emmanuel, God with us, the sacrificial spotless Lamb for all mankind. All who believed in him would not perish but have everlasting life.

Some say that God, in his master plan for redemption, took on the form of man because he wanted to better understand the plight of his creation—to know their grief and to feel their pain.

But I disagree.

God is omniscient. He knows everything about everything. He didn't need a trip to earth to enlighten him. Just the opposite, in fact.

God took on the form of man to enlighten you and me. Only after seeing his tears, his bleeding hands and his broken body would we know—beyond any shadow of a doubt—that he knew our grief and felt our pain. His coming to earth was a selfless act of immeasurable love, bringing hope to a hopeless people.

Thousands of years later, when the world spins out of control and crisis looms, hope still reigns in the hearts of those who believe. Let come what may. God is with us. All is well.
________________________________________

A version of this article appeared in The Dallas Morning News, Christmas Day, 2002.

Unto Us

2010-12-19T13:55:00.000-06:00

Looking at Christmas lights has been a family tradition since childhood. My daughter and I browsed the neighborhood last night, keeping the tradition alive. Christmas music on the radio, windows down and cameras flashing.

My favorite part of any display is always the manger scene. What a glorious gift from heaven! God, the giver of life, robed in flesh, giving himself to mankind.

In the Old Testament, Isaiah prophesied, "For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace."

I'm glad I know who Jesus is.

Linking to Spiritual Sundays.

Magical Music

2010-12-09T22:41:00.001-06:00

Last night, me, my twin sister and her husband took in an evening of Andrea Bocelli. It was a magical night. His rendition of "Blue Christmas" made me swoon. Listening to gifted singers and musicians is one of my very favorite simple pleasures.

I love downtown Houston at night. Looking festive.

The amazing Houston Symphony Orchestra

What a talent!

Me and my lovely twin sis.

Me with popcorn and my fancy ankle boots. :-)

Joining twin sister's Simple Pleasures.

Gratitude Has Rich Rewards

2010-11-13T11:57:00.000-06:00

One of my daughter’s first sentences as a toddler was, “Thank you.” Her exact pronunciation, as I recall, was “tattoo,” and she said “tattoo” on a regular basis—her mom and dad made sure.

Regrettably, thankfulness is a vanishing art these days. All across the fruited plain, griping has become the national pastime.

Certainly, we all have things we could gripe about—nobody’s life is perfect, after all. But there are enriching rewards in the simple act of gratitude.

Author Melody Beattie describes it beautifully: “Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity. It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend.”

Of course, ingratitude has “rewards,” too—but they aren’t so enriching.

Young or old, prosperous or poor, ungrateful people lead miserable, defeated lives. The more they’re given, the more thankless and greedy they become.

In his devotional, “The Attitude of Ingratitude,” Woodrow Kroll tells the story of a tourist, visiting a certain part of Mexico where hot springs and cold springs run side by side.

Houston Woman Magazine

While watching the peasants boiling their laundry in the hot springs and rinsing them in the cold, the tourist commented to his Mexican guide, "I imagine they think Mother Nature is pretty generous to supply such ample, clean, hot and cold water side by side for their free use."

With a sigh the guide replied, "No, Señor, there is much grumbling because she supplies no soap."

At best, ingratitude can become a habit, difficult to break. At worst, it can become a way of life, where nothing is ever enough.

I, for one, have much to be thankful for this Thanksgiving season, and I refuse to focus on anything negative in my life. I have health, food, clothes, shelter, family, friends and peace of mind. Indeed, it is all I need and much, much more than I deserve.

So, from grateful me, to generous you, Lord, Tattoo.

____________

Linking to Spiritual Sundays, my favorite weekend blog.

Blogging Blues

2010-11-10T20:05:00.000-06:00

I don't know if one can blog part-time and be considered a real blogger, but such is my life. I rarely have time to blog, and even less time to read other blogs. Maybe one day when my ship comes in or my rich prince comes calling or I win the lottery, I'll be a true-blue blogger and blog on a regular basis.

Til then, it'll be weekly. Or maybe monthly. Or maybe yearly.

Don't miss me too much.

History in Stitches

2010-11-06T17:07:00.000-05:00

I'm showing up a little late to my twin's Airing of the Quilts party. I had no intentions of joining the fun, but here I am, and here is a quilt that is very special to me. When my daughter was small, she snuggled under it many winter nights. It's quite fragile now, so I keep it tucked away for safekeeping. Sorry the photography isn't top-notch, but that's what happens when you don't plan ahead. :-)

Butterfly Quilt: Made by my paternal grandmother, Anna Estelle Carter Allen.

I can almost see my sweet MawMaw, stitching each butterfly.

Walter and Anna Allen - 1927

An Old Window

2010-11-04T22:50:00.000-05:00

The minute I saw it, I wanted it: An old window in an antique mall. But times were tough, so I kept walking. Out of sight; out of mind. Right?

Not a chance.

A week or so later, I visited the antique mall again. My identical twin was along for the pleasure. I strolled back to see if the old window was still there. It was. I showed it to her.

"Why don't I get it for you for your birthday?"

Our birthday was months away.

"It could be an early present. It'd look great hanging in your entryway."

I couldn't resist.

I had no idea how heavy it was, but a nice guy loaded it for me, and I managed to get it home and unloaded without breaking it or my big toe. Sadly, it sat on the floor for months and months.

A few weeks ago (after our birthday had come and gone), I finally got a handyman to come hang it for me. I couldn't be happier! It's a great conversation piece and gives the room a much warmer feel.

What do you think?

___________

Linking to Cindy's Show and Tell Friday.

Simple Pleasure Thursday

2010-11-03T22:51:00.000-05:00

I hope ya'll don't laugh, but my simple pleasure this week is dust-free furniture. Working 8-5 leaves little time for dusting, but whenever I haul out the Pledge and do my dusty duties, I love the magical reflections left behind. Just wish the dust would flee longer than an hour. Ha!

Challenges Can Render Rich Rewards

2010-10-23T11:16:00.000-05:00

After months of searching for employment without any prospects, the job downtown was a gift from above. My only concern was the long commute. I had enough challenges in my life without rush hour traffic, and I dreaded it like the plague.

My first morning out was stressful indeed. An ocean of taillights awaited me.

Trying to focus on which lane to be in, exactly when to be in it and how best to get there left me tense, tired and longing for a chauffeur.

As I topped the final hill before leaving the other travelers behind, I found myself with an unexpected front row seat to Houston’s magnificent skyline.

Etched against a canvas of midnight blue, the stately skyscrapers, twinkling in the distance, were breathtaking to behold. Instinctively, I slowed down, mesmerized by the sight.

A few bends in the road later, the sun peeked over the horizon. The skyscrapers, appearing close enough to touch now, turned into giant packages of gold as shafts of yellow sunshine climbed steadily up metal, glass and stone.

It was a spectacular scene—sunrise in the city, you might say—and I felt richer for having witnessed such grandiose grandeur. Perhaps the dreaded commute wouldn’t be so dreadful after all.

As human beings, we tend to resist challenges as a whole. Instead of launching out into the deep, we hover near the shoreline, coddling the familiar and feeling safe.

Perhaps we fear the unknown.

Perhaps we dread the known.

But despite the reasoning behind our limited way of thinking, undoubtedly, beautiful rewards have been forfeited along the way.

When my daughter was five, she wanted a sibling more than anything in the world. Every day she talked about becoming someone’s big sister.

Certainly, I never planned on having an only child. But at 35, I wasn’t thrilled about starting over either. My spouse felt as I did, and so, together, we made the definitive decision that one offspring would be the magic number for us.

It is a decision that I lived to regret. And even today, I wonder what beautiful reward might have ensued had the challenge of another child not been surrendered all those years ago.

Of course, not every challenge in life is optional.

A newborn has Down Syndrome.

A loved one has an incurable disease.

A fire leaves ashes where a home once stood.

Indeed, it is those challenges—the unavoidable, unexpected ones—that we resist so vigorously. We didn’t sign up for such painful disruptions in our lives. We want things as they used to be.

Certainly, such thinking is understandable; no one enjoys pain.

But it’s my belief that, even in the direst of circumstances, when every moment is a struggle to survive, beautiful rewards can be found among the shadows that be. Not tangible rewards, perhaps, but rewards just the same.

Maybe it’s a restoring of the soul, a softening of the heart or a renewed sense of gratitude—for life, health, family and friends.

As James Buckham once said, “Trials, temptations, disappointments—all these are helps instead of hindrances, if one uses them rightly. They not only test the fiber of character but strengthen it. Every conquered temptation represents a new fund of moral energy. Every trial endured and weathered 'in the right spirit' makes a soul nobler and stronger than it was before.”

How true those words are, and yet how difficult for us to accept them.

But accept them we should.

Whenever challenges come our way, instead of dreading them like the plague, we should cast our fears aside, start our engines and embrace the road before us. No, the commute won’t be without pain, but skyscrapers of gold might be over the hill.

_____________

Linking to Spiritual Sunday, where faith lifts are free.

D is for: DAYLE

2010-10-14T23:50:00.000-05:00

L-R: Dayle, Big Sister Elaine and Gayle

What a perfect letter for Alphabe-Thursday! Not only is today my birthday, it's also Dayle's birthday, my identical twin sister. I call her my wombmate.

One of my "Dayle" stories is published in Chicken Soup for the Soul: Twins and More. I titled it, "Weirdly In Sync," which perfectly describes the two of us. Below is another story I wrote about Dayle. It appeared in Reflections magazine, and remains a favorite of mine. Happy birthday, dear Dayle. And MANY more!

____________________

THERE SHE IS—MY BELOVED WOMBMATE

It’s 3 o’clock in the morning. Dayle and I have just finished our third game of Scrabble, yet neither of us is anxious to retire. We’re having too much fun; sleeping can wait.

My Scrabble partner is a reflection of me in so many ways. Born 11 minutes apart, we have the same nose, same eyes, same hair, same fingers and same feet. We talk alike, walk alike and laugh alike. Our tastes are the same. Our thoughts are the same. Even our DNA is the same.

I can’t imagine my life without Dayle.

Dayle and Gayle

Once when we were kids, we lost sight of each other in Piggly Wiggly. It was a game of hide-and-seek, and Dayle was “it.” After searching everywhere for her wayward twin, Dayle rounded the produce aisle, saw herself in a mirror and hollered, “There you are!”

As I observe her across the table tonight, I find myself repeating those same three words: There you are.

My beloved wombmate. My God-created clone. I love you more than words can say.

I love the way you look in that yellow housecoat. I love the way your hair is piled on your head, with only a pencil holding it in place. I love the way you scowl as you shuffle your letters, hoping to make a high-point word out of “EIEIOOO.”

I love laughing with you, drinking coffee with you or doing nothing with you.

You’ve been a compass to me in times of confusion. A haven to me in times of storm. An encourager to me in times of doubt and dissatisfaction. What a glorious gift you are.

These days, you’re traveling the globe, enjoying life with your retired spouse, but I don’t miss you when you’re gone. No matter how long the road is between us, you’re never far away. Like threads joined together in a piece of crochet, my heart is forever intertwined with yours. All I have to do is breathe, and there you are. ♦

Fall ~ Inside and Out

2010-10-14T09:09:00.000-05:00

Friday evening, after a long day at work, I turned into my driveway and my mouth fell open--literally. My flowerbeds, once plain and boring, had become charming and quaint. Seems my twin sister and her spouse had ventured into my yard and left wonderful things behind. The pumpkins, scarecrows (notice the twins on the right-hand side), mums, pansies and crotons are all their doing. Simple things; loads of pleasure.

Their labor of love nudged me into bringing fall inside as well. I've posted of few glimpses.

____________

I'm linking to my twin sister's Simple Pleasures blog party. Come on over!

All Things Work Together

2010-10-08T22:08:00.000-05:00

If I live to be 105, I'll never figure out certain things. Why some sick people pray and get well, and other sick people pray and die. Why some jobless people pray and find a job, and other jobless people pray and collect unemployment. I really don't understand why some prayers seem louder than others, but what I do understand is that all things work together for good to those who love God. It might not look "good" at the moment, but it's working together for good.

Just recently, I suffered a devastating personal disappointment. What I thought was going to happen didn't happen. I had devoted months of mental, physical and emotional energy to this particular event. However, within a few moments, it came to a screeching halt. I was beyond distraught. I felt like a bride must feel, jilted at the altar: Now what? I didn't know what to say, or what to do, or how to move forward.

But I did move forward—one gray day at a time. And now, a few weeks after the fact, after the tears have dried and the anxious thoughts have ceased, I know beyond any shadow of a doubt that the thing I had hoped for and planned on happening wasn't meant to be right then. That my timetable wasn't in my best interest. That despite the tears, the fears, and the endless list of questions, all things were working together for good.

Whether or not my plans ever evolve is yet to be seen, but it really doesn't matter anymore. Either way, I'll be OK. My Father knows the end from the beginning, and I trust him with my life.

"And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God,

to them who are the called according to his purpose,"

Romans 8:28.

_______________

Linking to Spiritual Sundays.

"Chicken Soup for the Soul"

2010-10-02T16:11:00.001-05:00

At the risk of causing a national stampede, "Chicken Soup for the Soul: Devotional Stories for Mothers" will be in bookstores everywhere tomorrow. It's their first devotional for moms, and I'm honored to be a contributor. The stories I've read thus far are superb!

These books make great gifts for moms of all ages and stages, even moms-to-be. My story is on Page 355, and I believe it'll make you smile. It's called "Magical Mirth," and it starts like this:

(The Silly Kid)

"It was a rainy evening in December. School was out for the holidays, and after a long day of shopping, my six-year-old daughter was wound tighter than a top. Seeking solitude from her silliness, I put on a pot of coffee and retired to the den."

What happened next had us both in the floor laughing til we cried. Precious memories. How they linger.

Happy weekend to you all. Join me at Spiritual Sundays, where good people blog about good things.

Happy Birthday, Elaine

2010-09-30T07:38:00.000-05:00

My big sister's birthday is today. All who know her love her, but to those who don't know her, she's mega-gifted musically.

At the age of two, she was singing harmony with her Sunday school friend, Yolanda. A few years later, a little accordion introduced her to keyboards, and by the time she was 13, she was an accomplished pianist—not by notes, but by ear. If she heard a song, she could play it.

Elaine has always used her gifts for the Kingdom. Whether playing before small, intimate gatherings, or before thousands in packed auditoriums, her desire is to lift Him up. She gives because she’s been given. She doesn't seek earthly rewards.

Sadly, she’s experienced deep hurt in her life. False accusations. Vicious attacks against her character. Wounded in the house of friends, you might say.

But through it all, the music never died. Many times, in the midnight hours, when her impending loss was almost more than she could bear, I heard her at the piano, weeping while she sang of God’s abiding love and faithfulness. I never heard her speak an unkind word about those who lied and did her wrong, but I did hear her pray for them.

I can't be with Elaine on her birthday, but I hope it's everything she wants it to be. She's an amazing woman, a wonderful role model and the best big sister God ever made.

~~~~~~~~

“For there is no friend like a sister, in calm or stormy weather, to cheer one on the tedious way, to fetch one if one goes astray, to lift one if one totters down, to strengthen whilst one stands.”

Simple Pleasure - Living Near To Those Dear

2010-09-22T20:55:00.012-05:00

(L-R: Gayle and Dayle)

She sent me a text the other day, as I was leaving work, saying turnip greens and cornbread were still warm if I wanted some. The food hit the spot, but the simple pleasure is knowing she's around the corner, a stone's throw away. I smile everytime I drive by her street. Life without her would be hard.

_______________

Linking to her blog party, where simple pleasures are celebrated every Thursday.

Persistent Love

2010-09-18T17:23:00.004-05:00

While parked in Taco Bell’s parking lot one afternoon, waiting for my daughter to get her after-school bean burrito, a small vehicle wheeled in beside me and screeched to a halt. A frustrated-looking woman, carrying a Taco Bell sack, got out and went inside. A mixed up order, no doubt.

Remaining in the car was a little boy, about six years old, who looked as if he had been crying. Hoping to change his mood a bit, I flashed him my best and brightest smile. He didn’t smile back.

Undaunted by his lack of response, I smiled a second time.

Again, the little boy stood motionless, staring at me as though I had just arrived from outer space.

Not wanting to give up so easily, I smiled a third time.

To my dismay, the little boy kept scowling, as if to say: “You can’t make me smile, so quit trying.”

But I didn’t quit trying. I smiled again, unscathed.

After the fourth smile, the little boy ducked out of sight.

But not for long.

Unable to resist the cheerful lady in the dirty brown car, he inched his head up slowly until his eyes met mine. I smiled again, fully expecting him to duck again, but he didn’t. Instead, he opened his hand and showed me a nickel. A peace offering, perhaps?

Not a chance. Before the fifth smile ever left my face, the little boy hit the floorboard, more boisterous than ever.

About that time, the woman with the mixed up order returned. As soon as she got in the car, the little boy hopped up and sheepishly glanced my direction.

He seemed more relaxed than before, and I smiled a sixth time, hopeful. I wasn’t disappointed.

Not only did the little boy return my smile, he gave me a curt little wave as they backed out and drove away. I waved back, pleased that my persistence had finally paid off.

Once upon a time, my heavenly Father smiled at my cold and callous heart. Each time he smiled, I ducked for cover, saying, “You can’t make me smile, so quit trying.”

But my Father didn’t quit trying. He kept smiling my direction, hoping his prodigal child would come running home soon.

Romans 8:38-39 says, "For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God."

It doesn't matter how bad we've been or how lost we are, our Father’s love persists and persists.

_________________

Linking to Spiritual Sundays, where good bloggers blog about good things.

Simple Pleasure - Simply Speaking

2010-09-15T22:59:00.001-05:00

Two years ago: Me. Dayle. Ronald Reagan Medical Center at UCLA. Dr. Berke. Throat surgery. The most surreal (and miraculous) week of my life.

The "surreal" part is another post for another day. The "miraculous" part? Well, to make a LONG story short, due to a rare vocal condition, my voice had all but quit working. Dr. Berke (and his expert team) put it back together again. I'm eternally grateful.

Below is a stroll down Memory Lane:

Leaving on a jet plane - despite Hurricane Ike.

Me and Wombie at the hotel - after a frightening taxi ride.

Los Angeles, from the hotel balcony.

Dr. Berke's office.

Wombie: Her sister's keeper.

Me...waiting.

Me with Dr. Berke--my brilliant knight in the brown shirt.

The recovering patient - on the back row, all bandaged up, being soothed by the violinist.

Twelve of the most gorgeous yellow roses I've ever seen.

The whispering, monotone patient, smiling for Wombie (reflected in the glass).

The Pacific Ocean, glistening like a gem.

Two weary, but happy travelers. "Are we there yet?"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

My simple pleasure today..and every day? Opening my mouth and speaking.

_______

What's your simple pleasure? Inquiring minds want to know.

Click on Wombie's blog and tell us.

Tragedy Can Transform

2010-09-10T21:31:00.000-05:00

On September 11, 2001, I awoke anxious and somber. Before nightfall, I would tackle a difficult personal matter, and the thought made me weak.

After dropping my daughter off at school, I returned home, retreated to my office and contemplated what lay ahead. As often is the case, when I need comfort or direction, I drew a "promise" from a small box of Scripture cards sitting on my desk.

The selected Scripture soothed my senses: “The angel of the Lord encampeth round about them that fear him, and delivereth them.” The prayer on the reverse side seemed handwritten for my day: “Dear God, give me courage to face the problems that confront me today; thank you for your sustaining strength.”

At roughly 9 o’clock, the telephone rang. It was my older sister in Houston. “The Pentagon has been attacked,” she said. “Turn on the news.”

In disbelief, I ran upstairs, turned on the television and stared in horror at the images before me.

Plumes of black smoke cascaded from the World Trade Center toward a cloudless New York sky. In Washington, the very symbol of our nation’s strength lay in rubble, burning. Three commercial airliners had become weapons of war for wicked men intent on destruction.

Suddenly, my personal problems vanished and my somberness was for another cause.

As I listened to the wail of sirens and the rumble of collapsing buildings, I prayed for my country. I prayed that America would let God transform her during this time of intense grief into a nation who, once again, reverences faith—not just in bad times, but in the good times, too.

By noon, I had heard the word “pray” numerous times. I had heard bystanders praying for family and friends. I had seen crude, handwritten signs saying, “Pray for America,” and “God bless the USA.”

However, the many references to prayer and God didn’t make me feel any better; they made me feel worse.

Yes, I had prayed for America to renew her respect for God, but I hadn’t prayed for this. This was too tangible, too painful and too severe.

What I had in mind was more of a quiet stirring within our hearts, a gentle tap on our collective shoulders, saying, “Wake up, America. Don’t sleep the sleep of death.”

I didn’t want destruction to be the motivator for change. And I knew that the God I serve didn’t want destruction to be the motivator either. He is a God of love, not hate.

He doesn’t ram airplanes through buildings, setting off fiery explosions that abruptly end thousands of innocent lives. He seeks to love, not punish.

And then it hit me: What better time for God to love than now? What better place for him to reach for apathetic souls than standing amidst evil-inspired rubble and ruin?

If anyone could turn heartache into hope, he could. If anyone could turn tears into triumph, he could. If anyone could turn tragedy into a glorious transformation, the God of our fathers could.

While journalist conversed about the tragedy of it all, I covered my face and prayed.

________

I'm joining Spiritual Sundays.

Psalm 3:3

2010-09-09T22:24:00.000-05:00

"But thou, O LORD, art a shield for me; my glory, and the lifter up of mine head."

Simple Pleasures

2010-09-02T08:45:00.000-05:00

The smell of coffee brewing in the workplace.

__________

Linking to my sister's Simple Pleasures.

Might-As-Well-Laugh Monday

2010-08-30T18:54:00.000-05:00

I don’t know why fast-food establishments are deemed as serving “fast-food.” Nothing could be further from the truth.

Take today, for instance.

First, I wait 30 minutes in the drive-thru line, while some hungry person in front of me orders enough burgers to feed Guatamala.

Then, before I utter a single syllable at the menu board, I hear, "Hi! Welcome to Burger World, where we make your burger from the freshest ingredients possible…any way you want it…while you wait…24 hours a day…seven days a week. My name is Edward. Would you care to try one of our Burger Bargain Boxes today?"

"No."

"OK. Just take your time and order when you're ready." (Oblivious to Edward, I was ready 30 minutes ago.)

"I'd like a burger and a lemonade, please."

"OK. Would you like french fries with that burger and lemonade?"

"No."

"OK. Would you like an order of crispy onion rings with that burger and lemonade?"

"No."

"How about one of our delicious hot apple pies?"

"No."

"Cherry pie?"

"No."

"Peach—"

"No. Just the burger and lemonade, please."

"Well, our chocolate sundaes are on special today."

"The burger and lemonade, Edward."

"OK. One moment while I figure your total."

And while Edward figures my total, I doze and dream I’m standing before Congress, begging for fast-food legislation.

I argue that, since we limit how many bags a person takes on an airplane, how much weight an 18-wheeler hauls and how many Cokes a consumer can buy on sale, then surely we can limit how much food a person orders from a drive-thru window—and perhaps ban employee monologues as well.

The congressmen offer sympathetic smiles, but just as they open their mouths to speak, I hear, "That'll be $3.27. Please pay at the first window, pick up your burger at the second window and your lemonade will be waiting at the third window, around the corner, to your left."

Edward is back. The dream is over. I yawn and pull forward.

Being Wrong Can Be So Right

2010-08-28T13:37:00.000-05:00

The day I learned DeAnna would be my office partner at our new location across town, I nearly had a stroke. Surely not. Who in their right mind would put the two of us together and expect either of us to survive? In a week, DeAnna would be bored to death by me or I’d be talked to death by her. It just wasn’t workable.

On the morning of the move, I got to work early, found my office and started setting up shop.

Around 8 o’clock, the barometer on the fourth floor peaked as DeAnna blew in like a monsoon wind. Long before I saw her, I heard her coming my direction.

Taking a deep breath, I braced for the storm.

In a few minutes, “the storm” arrived, but it wasn’t nearly as rough as I’d anticipated. With a gentle good morning, DeAnna asked if I’d like anything to drink. A cup of coffee, perhaps?

I returned her greeting, thanked her for the offer, but declined the coffee.

A cold Coke from downstairs, maybe?

I thanked her, but declined the Coke.

DeAnna nodded gracefully, put her belongings down and headed back out the door.

I’m not sure when it happened, but somewhere between that first day of our togetherness and the next few weeks, I learned to adore DeAnna Wright—her energy; her humor; her incredible quick wit. By month’s end, I would’ve fought anyone who tried to part us.

DeAnna felt the same way.

Daily, we laughed hysterically at something one of us did or said. Just a glance (or a grunt) could send us both roaring. Even in the silences, DeAnna made work a good place to be.

My promotion a few months later was bittersweet. I wanted to take DeAnna upstairs with me, but I couldn’t, of course. All I could do was hug her tightly and snap a photo for old times’ sake.

Today, the photo remains a treasured possession of mine. Every time I look at it, I’m reminded of just how wrong I can be and of just how much I might have missed.

WORDS TO LIVE BY: Never declare anything “unworkable” without, first, giving it a chance to work.

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This blog isn't extremely "spiritual," but it's good food for thought, so I'm reposting it and linking to my favorite weekend spot: Spiritual Sundays. Click on over.

Simple Pleasures

2010-08-25T22:27:00.000-05:00

My new Southern Living, and a cup of hazelnut coffee.

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Linking to my sister's Simple Pleasures.

The Gift of Lori

2010-08-21T23:15:00.000-05:00

Recently, I was contacted by a woman named Lori. She wanted me to know that my music had touched her life more than 30 years ago. Needless to say, I was beyond humbled that a soul had been impacted by a seed I had sown. Little Me in the hands of Big Him. Overwhelming.

Lori passed away this week. She told me upfront that she was sick and wouldn't live much longer. We spoke on the phone a few days before she died.

I'm sad that we never got to meet in person, but so grateful that our paths crossed at all. The first time, I was a gift to Lori. The second time, she was a gift to me.
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Dear God, thank you for those who come into our lives and leave us richer. May that be our goal with the dawn of every day.

Linking to Spiritual Sundays, a great place to be inspired.

Simple Pleasures - Talking With Her

2010-08-18T22:32:00.001-05:00

Last night we talked about men, but the topic doesn't matter. Talking with her—heart-to-heart, mother-to-daughter, friend-to-friend—is a simple pleasure I never take for granted.

Occasionally, when she was a toddler, my brain would go into overload while she learned everything about everything, talking 90 miles a minute, asking why, what, who and how.

But these days, I cherish every moment of our conversations, grateful beyond words that God chose me to be her mom.

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Linking to Dayle's (i.e., my wombmate's) Simple Pleasures.

"U" Are Important

2010-08-15T10:54:00.000-05:00

My typewriter is rather old, but it works qxite well—except for one key. Trxe, all the other keys fxnction fine, bxt as yox can see, when one key isn’t working properly, the final prodxct is greatly affected.

And so it is in God’s kingdom.

You might say, “Well, I am just one person. My contributions aren’t terribly important in the overall scheme of things. Besides, I don’t sing, I don’t preach, I don’t teach, and I am not the head of any department. I am just not as important as others to the cause of Christ.”

But that isn’t true, my friend. Just because you aren’t as visible as others, doesn’t mean you aren’t as important.

After all, God’s work isn’t limited to what happens when church is going on. The majority of God’s work is done when church is dismissed, when the lights go out, when no one but God is looking.

As demonstrated by the Good Samaritan, God’s work is fulfilled one-on-one, loving our neighbors as ourselves, doing little things that make big, big differences in the lives of those around us.

Little things like: hugging a hurting child, having lunch with a single mom or sending a card to a friend in crisis.

How much applause we get from men isn’t important—unless we’re working for an earthly reward, or course. It is how well we do our job that will matter in the end.

So the next time yox feel xnimportant in God’s great big family, jxst think aboxt my typewriter and say to yoxrself: I’m jxst as important as anyone else. And if I don’t fill my role properly, the finished prodxct will be greatly affected.

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Linking to Spiritual Sundays. Click over and be inspired.