Empty Nexter

I'm standing in the middle of my favorite grocery store and I've been shopping for quite some time now. My basket is, for all intents and purposes, more than full. I stand, looking over my selections, watching the other shoppers. They appear enraptured with their selections, their carts, their choices...just their being there. Yawn.

Some are genuinely happy and I envy them. In my heart there is a longing to feel that happiness, that sense of contentment they seem to get from just being there. I don't understand it anymore. I used to, but now I am so very bored with it all. I've seen everything, over and over. I've snacked on the samples. I've gone home with and gorged on probably every item available to me in hopes that I will finally feel that proverbial illusive happiness only to realize I'm not content at all. I am still so very, very empty.

I walk up and down each aisle looking for what it is I feel I am missing. There is a clue here somewhere. Something they have in their cart that I don't have. Surely.

Some offer a specific item they are sure will answer my dilemma. I used to toss those into my cart with hopeful eagerness. But at this point in my journey I no longer think another item in my cart will make a difference to the balance, one way or the other. My appetite waned, my interest unmotivated.

I feel like walking away. No, scratch that. I feel like running away. Screaming. The urge to flee is so very strong. I want to leave the basket there and never return. What's the use? What purpose does this or that item serve. I no longer care about the contents or what happens to me if I don't purchase them. I no longer care to be here. I am empty. My heart screams NEXT!!??!!??

This is how it's been for some time now. It's not the store; I've been to many different stores. And it's not the contents of the basket; it's all healthy choices, no Twinkies or chips - not that an occasional Twinkie or bag of chips is bad mind you - but I don't even crave those things. I am empty. And I want next.

This is my walk in the Christian life of late. I am bored. Bored with Christianity, bored with church, bored with the reasons I am bored and bored with the answers to my boredom.

I am empty and I am screaming NEXT!?!?!?!

Yes, I work at a church. Yes, I attend this church and love this church. I love the God I worship and serve. I have no question of who He is or if He is or where He is. I've no question of my faith, the validity of my religion or the truth of Christ. All that is very solid, very real.

I know His word. I've read His word over and over. I've sat at His feet and desperately clung to His cross pleading for more of Him. He knows all of this because I talk to Him in very real terms on a daily basis.

And yet, I am empty. Next?

I'm not sure where this post is going or what my point is other than to put it out there. I know others feel the same because I've had this conversation with quite a few people. Christians bored with Christianity.

There is no answer you can give me. I am not asking for a solution or even your solution. No need to invite me to visit your grocery store. No sense in me envying or borrowing what you have in your cart. No need to figure out what snack, ingredient or even recipe I should try now. Nope. Been there. Done that. Next?

Storm Report

The word hurricane strikes a chord of fear in most people's hearts. And reasonably so. As my boss said, we not only live in a post-9/11 world, we also live in a post-Katrina world. No longer can we stare down the throat of a storm of any magnitude with the nonchalance and bravado of a circus lion-tamer.

Being born and raised here in Houston, I must say that hurricanes are simply part and parcel of life on the Gulf Coast. Although I am too young to have seen the destruction of Carla, I do remember well Hurricane Alicia and Tropical Storm Allison as well as a slew of other storms whose names I can't remember. I remember being afraid but we were always prepared, ready to "hunker down" and bear the brunt of whatever devastation and destruction the storm might bring.

With Ike barreling down on the Texas shore, those fears of destruction and devastation begin rising up in our minds like the storm surge, crashing against our sensibilities way before we even face the actual storm.

Hurricane Ike rides in on the tail of several other storms that have wrought their own destruction in one way or another in our life as well as the lives of others in my life.

For me the word teenager strikes more fear in my heart than any old hurricane ever could. A hurricane's path is somewhat predictable and blows over pretty quickly. In comparison to a teenager it is a breeze, pun very much intended.

My youngest son is 15. That alone would make the most seasoned parent shudder. Add to that he has some factors that augment what is already - in my opinion - a category 5 situation. Some would label these factors as disabilities, I would rather see them as challenges or opportunities to rise above the waves that would drag you down and toss you about like a a flimsy piece of driftwood.

As I've said before, I foolishly thought we would somehow escape the onslaught of hormones and teenage angst because I had a very close relationship with my son. My hopes were soon dashed upon the rocks and lay strewn like so much garbage waiting for the vultures to pick it apart. Oh. Woe. Is. I.

I've waited and waited for the return of the son I once recognized as my own. I have sent out my pleas to the alien beings who, I believe, abducted him about a year ago and replaced him with the venom spitting, surly tempered, Tasmanian devil that closely resembles the churning swirl of color looming ever near us in the Gulf.

This school year my son has decided he will no longer go to school. He just wants to stay home and sleep all day. Well don't we all silly boy, but sadly this is not an option the real world offers. Well, not unless you are Warren Buffet. And he didn't get there without an education and lots of hard work.

On Tuesday we got a call from the school that he was receiving in school suspension for one day because he refused to wake up and do his class work. On Tuesday evening we came home from work to discuss the matter with him. During this discussion is when we were informed we had not a clue what he meant about anything and that he simply was not going to school and if he could not stay in the house he would leave and become a (eh, hem) vagabond.

We truly thought when he walked out the door, that he would be back within an hour after having walked the block and come to his senses. We spent the next 4 hours and 45 minutes in agony. It was every parents worst nightmare and every teenagers attempt at independence.

I cannot tell you the amount of tears I shed nor the number of times that I begged God he be returned to me safe. I cannot describe the places my mind went to for they were dark, vile and void of hope, places that a parent's imagination should never have to roam.

I remembered every news story of every child who went missing. I remembered every parents interview. I remembered thinking I hope that is never me. I remember thinking oh God, don't let it be.

When it became obvious he was not coming home soon, and we had searched the entire area. I texted friends that I couldn't talk, but to pray because he was missing. Our neighbors set out and searched surrounding areas as well. My friends texted every few minutes "praying" and "love you" and "is he home?". One even showed up at my door because she just couldn't take it anymore. What would I have done without them? These loved ones surrounded us, anchored us and shored us up against the storm. They were our life lines when we would have otherwise drowned.

When he walked in the door I began to wail as if I'd been told the worst. He began to weep as we hugged and I repeated over and over "thank you God!". For as many times as I had pleaded for his return, I thanked Him. For every tear that was shed, I matched it with thanks and praise.

We talked that night and for now the storm has abated somewhat. But I know from my own teen years that were fraught with drama that the storms return quite quickly, that perhaps this is merely the eye and we've yet to get through the other side.

Some might think we simply ignored all the news flashes and flag warnings posted. That we must have turned a blind eye to the obvious signs and symptoms of an impending storm. This however, is not the case. We have all we could. The advent of teenagedom was, after all, inescapable.

Ours is not the only storm that has blown it's course.

One of my closest friends who I've known for over 30 years, recently faced the very real threat of cancer. Cancer comes more in the form of a tornado than a hurricane. Coming at you out of nowhere and striking with ferocity and vengeance. Taking with it anything that may be solid or firm in its path - everything you've built - wrenching it away. Behind it no trace is left of anything you knew. Mere shambles and rubble left where you once felt secure.

Another close friend is dealing with the ugly truth of cancer being fleshed out in her mother. Having faced this very storm once before, they are very aware of everything they have ahead of them. I am not sure if that makes it easier or worse.

Yet another close friend who has struggled with her health for some time now was recently told that her heart is not operating at full capacity and has perhaps suffered a heart attack.

While Ike is doing its worst to tear our world apart and the other events are attempting to take their toll on us as well, we have hunkered down (a very popular phrase right now), sheltered in place, boarded up the weak areas, gathered our supplies and prepared for the worst.

But instead of the worst, I continue to hear awesome reports of faith and friendship coming out of these trials. Reports reminding us we are going to be okay, no matter what.

Support

More than just a good bra or a pair of Spanx. Support is in those who surround you, those who cheer you when you stand firm, who understand when you fall short and somehow carry you forward against the crushing rush of the tide.

Support is an assorted collection of family, friends and even, sometimes, absolute strangers. Strangers they may be, yet because they've walked in your shoes and you in theirs quite enough in life, these unfamiliar faces ring of familiarity.

Because in them you witness your hard-fought tears slip from their eyes, you hear your selfsame struggles in their voices and recognize the demons they have seen as the very same that have haunted you for years. The scars they bear - some old and barely visible, others fresh and still on the mend - are identical to yours for you have been warriors fighting a parallel battle. Synonymous lives.

I only remember a few of their names but I remember every single face. I remember them because we've come together gathered around a common purpose and have rallied for the same cause. I remember each one, because together we are strengthened by each admission of weakness; we take away a measure of courage in the fact that these weaknesses are normal and only temporary. I remember each face because I look around and I see victory in their expressions. I remember because I hear the triumphs declared in each of the voices. I remember the courage and determination of my circle who, against odds decided long ago, have clawed our way out of the dark prison cells of our own making and in to the light of freedom.

And freedom is a marvelous thing.

Someone back east is goin' 'now why don't he write?'

Remember that quote? Of course you do...it's from Dances With Wolves. Great movie. I remember right after that movie came out Jesse and I gave our kids American Indian names. Eddie was Wind In His Drawers, and Elena was Screams With A Fist.

I won't tell you our names lest I gross you out.

I guess I've been away quite a while...Stat Counter & Site Meter both register readership way down. From like 3 a day to 1 a day. Sorry my faithful reader!

I truly have not had much to say. Oh sure, there's been a funny thing here or there. A sad thought to share, or just an everyday occurrence to post about and keep in touch with all those I have come to know and love in Bloglyvania. If I would just take the time and make the effort to get myself in front of a computer and write. I mean, a writer writes always. Right?

But that's just it. I have not had the energy nor have I cared to take a moment or make an effort. There is something that has stood in the way and you may or may not know this about me, I battle depression. And I mean battle in the all out war sense of the word.

For a very long time I've had the black cloud that follows me in life well dispersed and no where to be seen on the horizon. Medicine, faith, family & friends were all a part of managing the dark little stalker of my soul.

Then I had surgery. Medicines were stopped. All of them. No need for it right? Blood pressure was good, blood sugar was great, I was losing weight and I was a happy little girl. Until about two weeks after surgery and I realized...uh oh, I've not been taking my happy girl pills. Realization came a bit late for I was no longer a happy girl.

So I say to myself, before I enter the danger zone and the little black rain cloud becomes a full blown category five hurricane, suck it up girl and start taking your pills again.

And I tried. I really did. The problem is that for the first 3 months after surgery my surgeon does not allow you to swallow any medicine, it must either be crushed or chewed. And so obedient little me went a bought a pill crusher and tried again and again to calm the storm that was brewing.

But I gotta tell you, there's nothing like swallowing a spoonful of battery acid, having your mouth go completely numb and your head feeling as if you've just stepped off of the tilt-a-whirl after riding for hours on end. Oh, and all those lovely feelings last for hours on end. Yeah, that will cheer you right up.

So I did what any normal human in my condition would do. Stop taking the vile crap. Ah but nuclear meltdown would fast approach and I make a lame attempt all over.

I tried hiding the poison from hell in almost everything too...Sugar free fat free pudding. Crystal light. Applesauce. Yogurt. Yogurt was the worst. I think the combination of the milk and battery acid upped the whole world is spinning side effect several notches.

All that to tell you this is where I've been. Lost under the black cloud and just not giving one bit of a care about anything. Ignoring friends, family, housework, life, blogs and pretty much everything under the sun. No pun intended.

And I apologize. I know I don't have to. I know you understand, you may even have your own black cloud to tend to.

But I want you to know that I love you guys. I want you to know I will be okay. I have managed to take the happy girl make the black cloud go away pills for 2 weeks straight now and I am starting to see a little sunlight break through. I am starting to feel again.

For instance, I actually care that you know that I care.

Or something like that.

The Good, the bad and the Downright Uuugly....

Oh my word! Has it already been 14 days? I've had my family home all week and it has gone by so fast...

What a freakin' crazy white water ride too. Emotionally, physically, everythingally.

The Good
Monday we journeyed out to Barnes & Noble. For me, this is as close to Heaven on Earth as there is without being sacrilegious. (For my husband Heaven on Earth would be Northern Tools, Home Depot or Lowe's) Not to mention this particular B&N sells Starbuck's right there. Not that I am a Starbuck's devotee, no, no, no mon ami's, just a coffee devotee. Coffee and books. Yesssss. I wonder, will there be books in Heaven? Hmmm...

I wandered through Heaven slowly in a literature induced euphoria literally salivating over the innumerable selections before me. I started with six, narrowed it down to three and only walked out with one, The Pig Did It by Joseph Caldwell. What a delightful choice at that. And truly, the fact that it was set in Ireland, had nothing to do with my decision.

Okay, maybe just a bit.

Speaking of Ireland...I found it rather humorous that every aisle that I walked down had an Irish book of some sort on display. I don't believe this was because of St. Patrick's day otherwise there would have been a whole display. Just a smidgen of irony I think...

I took pictures...well, what pass as pictures. Again, I don't have a decent camera and all I had with me was my phone:



I am quite certain I would have found many, many more, had I actually tried to find these. Or, with irony such as it is, perhaps not. No matter the case, it gave me a smile or a laugh each time and made me think of new found friends. Mayhap a nudge from the Lord's to pray for them...after reading about Ali's dreaded flight disease, and Pluto's furry visitor, I now understand.

The weather has been dutifully accommodating for our week together. There was the empty promise of some nasty storms on Tuesday. Sadly we didn't get as much as a spit of rain from the skies. No thunder, no lightening, not even one danged ominous black cloud.

And with the good weather we've begun work on our summer project for this year. The west side of the house. Or as Miss Nancy Mon would say, "A big shout out to the west si-eeede!" Sigh, I so miss her. And many others! I actually look forward to going back to work tomorrow! Crazy huh?

Back to the projects, er project. The side of the house is terribly overgrown. The couple that owned it before us apparently became ill and unable to take care of all the flowerage and vegetation. So we've been out pulling up plants that have become more like weeds. Cutting down bushes that have become more like trees. So far we've filled 12 of the super huge lawn bags and have lots to go. Yee. Haw.

The Bad
On Wednesday and Thursday my emotions got the best of me. My son left Thursday for Iraq and I have to tell you that right now is one of the most difficult times in my life. For one, he has decided to be angry with me for reasons I won't go into here. And in my mind this isn't the time for anger...this is the time for forgiveness and letting others know just how much you love them, no matter what.

Which I made sure he heard from me even if I didn't hear as much from him. For two, if he is mad at me okay, I am a big girl, but dang, he should have at least talked to his step-father and brother and sister. They are very hurt as well. For three, well I guess it is just a matter of this is the third one there which takes me to harder and harder places. And four, my emotions are on shaky ground to begin with considering all that has gone on before.

Shaky ground because even though I no longer feel physical hunger, I cannot sate my mental hunger. And the mental hunger is a far more difficult battle to wage war against. Like ghost pains for an amputee.

The Ugly
For the emotional eater, add these two together - the surgery and my oldest son leaving - and you have a cataclysmic situation on your hands. At one point I longed for the pots of meat in Egypt. I understood how the Israelites could even consider the choice. It seems far easier to go back to what required no struggle, no growth, no death of self, than to go forward in seemingly endless circumstances.

As I pause from typing this I look up at the tack board filled with pictures and notes and cards and such. But the one thing that sticks out is this, a note written to myself:

My Refuge is the eternal God. Deuteronomy 33:27

My Hope and my faith are in God. 1 Peter 1:21

My Security is in God. Philippians 4:19

My Acceptance is in God. Isaiah 62:5

Those words have been a reminder to me to stop looking to food, people and earthly things (yes, even books and coffee) for refuge and love. These are found only in God.

And no matter how much my heart hurts, how my stupid mind wanders back to those pots of meat and chains of slavery, He is the one who will meet my needs.

No matter what.

Daily Reminders

Things I must remember to do every day:

• Breathe


• Pray


• Listen


• Love


• Laugh


• Breathe

A reminder to breathe? To you it may sound silly, but I often forget to do these things, especially the breathe part. Throughout the day I will find that I have been holding my breath, I do this so often that I feel I must need a reminder, even several reminders. You would think all of these normal little acts of living would just come to me, but they don't. There have even been moments in my life that I have purposely ignored each one of these requirements.

But mostly I forget. I get wrapped up in the attempt to carry on to the next stop. Get things done and move on. For me most days are a struggle to stay afloat. Some days I'm drifting on a nice raft, kicked back and sipping my tea. Other days I am overboard fighting the on-coming current while doggy paddling for my life.

Yesterday or today for example.

We got a phone call from the school yesterday to come and get Eddie...he was having a crisis and unable to cope. Sounds childsh unless you understand the way an Autistic will try to cope when he is overwhelmed, like banging their head against a wall real hard, repeatedly. Which is what Eddie had been doing. When we got to the school he was so turned inward it took him a while to realize we were there. We talked calmly with the school psychiatrist for a few minutes, all the while in my head I'm screaming. Eddie began to cry, a good sign.

I know that part of this is due to the fact that he decided 4 days ago that he was no longer going to take his medicine and short of netting him, sitting on him and using a long straw to blow it into the back of his throat like some wild animal, I've tried everything. Yesterday he started taking it again. There are just some things we need to learn by falling right down on our rears. Those are the hardest lessons.

This is where and when I have to remind myself, breathe, love, listen, pray, breathe, laugh, hope, breathe, listen, trust...

This is where I have to remind him to do the same.

Why are you in despair, O my soul?
And why have you become disturbed within me?
Hope in God, for I shall again praise Him
For the help of His presence.
Psalm 42:5

Assemblance

I've been at it again, it seems I can never leave well enough alone. The urge hits me and everything in my way gets turned around. It starts with me wondering if this chair might look better in that spot and perhaps that picture would show off this wall and then I've found myself having gotten in deeper than I'd like. Oh, and don't stand in one spot for too long because I will dust you off and stick you in another room as well.

There are specific goings on I could finger as the impetus of my furniture whirlwind. On the one hand the action helps me to work through the stress and worry of the moment. On the other hand the shuffling about of the tangible in my life is indicative of the desire to rearrange the intangible. That which cannot be moved nor cannot be made to be seen in a better light.

I've spent quite a few hours and much energy switching this for that, and back for this. Dusting it off, putting it up high and then back down where it was. Let's turn it this way, no, on that wall...first let me sweep under it and polish it up a bit...there, hows that? What do you think? Now that spot is empty...hmm. This lamp will bring some light in this corner and that mirror will make this wall seem bigger oh, and I think a plant here will make it lovely. Maybe I should paint it and get new pillows and those curtains I saw would look lovely in here. Too many things over here? Not enough over there? What if we just took it all out and started over?

Of course with no budget and even less room I am limited. And I know that no matter where I move the pieces, its the same old chair, the same set of books and the same set of circumstances. As much as I would like the situation to be different, nothing has been moved, nothing has changed. I can dust it, polish it, place it here or there, take away from it or add to it and no matter, the situation remains the same.

Yet, at the end of the day, when I sit down in the room there is a whole new perspective. Yes, the same chair, but it looks so comfy in that spot with the love seat. Yes, the same books but I really like the way the knick-knacks are mixed in with them. Of course the same corner, but with with lamp on the little table it doesn't seem as dark anymore.

At the end of the day, with the room put just so, I feel a new perspective on the situation as well. Yes, the very same circumstances abide, but they somehow seem more manageable now. Yes, the same feelings are there, but there are some pleasant ones mixed in as well. Of course I remain at the same place, but with the lamp of God's Word it doesn't seem as dark anymore.

I Heart NY

With Jesse in New York for the week, the kids and I have thought of him often, prayed for him lots and missed him very, very much. It seems no matter what we are doing, we see a reminder of where he is (and more so, where he is not). It would seem to some that this is merely coincidence. Like when you buy a certain model of car and you start to see them everywhere. But I don't believe in coincidence, I am of the belief that everything happens for a reason.

On Saturday we made a trip to the mall...*shudder*...eee gads I hate the mall, but I needed a haircut so off we go. The first sign of the Big Apple (ha! I just realized that one) was the Apple store, we went in to find something and Eddie made a bee line for the iPhone. He pulled up the screen as I watched and the very first thing we see is the weather in New York. Hmm, how funny...Off to get a hair cut and then some lunch and our way the kids noticed New York & Co. Then a little further down they noticed The Yankee Candle Co. Wow, I think to myself, this is cool....In the food court we are sitting by the Sbarro's and the kids notice another reminder the New York style pizza. Alrighty then, we are seeing this every where...

The next day while flipping through channels I stop on one of my favs, the Food Network. Rachel Ray is making my mouth water in 30 minutes or less, and the recipe? It's from Utica, New York. That made me smile. I get on the computer a little later and check the news. Front page, Fox News is the story of a shark beaching itself in Rockaway Beach, New York. And today, there have been more sightings, this one a news story on Fox about the New York Tourist Welcome Campaign. I know now that these reminders are far more than just we miss you. But, of course we miss you, you are dad and my beloved. But mostly we have thought of you in selfish ways, with respect to how your absence has effected our life, caused our discomforts. Such as, you aren't here to strong arm the kids when they won't listen to me. You aren't here to motivate us to mow the yard (if you were here, you would mow the yard and motivate us to come out with you). You aren't here to help me decide what's for dinner, or better yet, grill dinner. You aren't here to see what the que is on Sunny's back cause it's gross and none of us can do it without throwing out...up, sorry, inside joke. (single moms/parents, much respect) So rather than see the next little reminder of you - while watching United Flight 93 - and go aww, we miss him, I begin to pray. I begin praying for God to bear fruit through the New York team, much fruit, lasting fruit (big apple). I pray for the weather to be favorable for the painting of the school and the evangelism trip (iPhone). I begin to pray for God to shine so brightly in your hearts and eyes that everyone the team comes in contact with sees the Light of Christ in the darkness of the city (Yankee Candle Co.). I begin to pray for the team to be united and become one strong instrument in the hand of God to do His will. I pray for the Word to be shared and multiplied like Jesus multiplied the fish and loaves (the pizza slice and the shark). Prayer for those who will be welcomed from New York into His Fold (the welcome campaign) and so on.

So now, we have our eyes out for New York sightings and our hearts sensitive to what the Lord would have us pray. But this last little reminder - it's just for me, just for my heart. Because my love, I would so love to be along side you doing the Father's work. When I came across this today, it made me smile. This photo is from a website that shows various photos of walls from around the world. While most of the walls I have seen are in London...I have found very few to be in New York. This picture is on a wall in Romania:



Pretty cool huh? I hope to add more to the list, this is after all only day 3.

You just never know...

3 years ago, around this time of year, there was a knock on Mr. Steve's door. He opened the door and recognized the man as one of his neighbors. Handshakes, hello's and the usual questions were shared. Then the neighbor handed Mr. Steve an envelope and said "The Lord has placed it upon my heart to bless you with this." Mr. Steve was taken aback and unsure as to what to do with the $100 check he found inside. His neighbor wasn't in the financial position to have made this offering, his business had been doing poorly, surely he needed it more than Mr. Steve did. However upon the attempt to return the money, the neighbor insisted he keep it - the Lord told him he was to do this, and he obeyed. It was some time later that Mr. Steve found the need for the money - and some time later that the same neighbor's business began to fare well once again.

2 years ago, around this time of year, we moved in to this same neighborhood. We have made acquaintances with our neighbors, finding most of them to be follower's of Christ. Some neighbors we would see out in their yards working, playing with their children, waving hello to them and saying our how are you's as they go to and from their daily lives, but more than this not much else has been shared between us. Other neighbors are closer to us, our children play with their children, we've shared prayers and tears and so on. Mr. Steve would fit in the first category.

1 year ago, around this time of year, Jesse signed up to go on a mission trip that would happen in September of '07. He had some funds from a previous mission trip that he was unable to go on, but there was still quite a large amount to raise but felt certain that the Lord had laid it upon his heart to go. Although he had as much as a year to raise the funds, the anxiety to provide would get overwhelming at times. Despite his worries, he knew the Lord would somehow provide each and every dime needed to go on the trip.

1 day ago, Mr. Steve knocked on our door and handed Jesse an envelope. Upon opening it Jesse found $100 with a note saying, "I hope this will help you on your mission trip. Signed, Mr. Steve" Jesse and I were surprised, how could he know? Both of us teared up at this gesture. Jesse went to talk to him and thank him. He asked him why and Mr. Steve explained, 3 years ago, around this time of year, there was a knock on my door...

Poor, poor, pitiful me...

I was diagnosed as being diabetic earlier this week. I cannot begin tell you what a blow to my heart this was. I am a large woman who has struggled with my weight for so long and I have really fought hard to change that fact. I have recently started a journey towards having weight loss surgery. I know there are plenty of naysayers out there, and that's fine. But you don't know my story and you don't wear my shoes. Diabetes will be one more reason for the insurance company to say yes, yeah, that's not enough reason to be okay with having it. I have been mopey about it the past few days and it's been really pitiful, I mean really pitiful. I have tried to turn the glass upside down, giving myself little pep talks, kicks in the butt, bringing scripture to the pity party etc. But nothing worked like seeing my mom in the hospital one night this week.

My mom Cory suffered from a massive stroke over 14 years ago. A stroke so massive it left half of her brain completely damaged and half of her body very much paralyzed. But this monster didn't paralyze her sense of humor, she still has all of that in tact! The other thing the stroke didn't paralyze is her absolute trust in the love & goodness of God. She has been in the hospital several times recently due to ulcers lining her esophagus. This last time she was put through some pretty rough tests and treatments. Mom took it all with the grace and dignity she had left. The other night the nurses were working her up pretty good and when they were finished with their necessary evil she turned to me and told me "I watched Billy Graham the other night on tv and they sang How Great Thou Art and I sang with them. And it hit me that He is God and He is great and He is my savior and my soul does sing to Him."
I wept. I have it made, diabetes and all. And her, well, Cory has laid in a bed, not doing anything other than watching tv, reading books, being changed, bathed & dressed by others for 14 years and yet her soul still sings to Him. Amazing.

She then proceeded to tell me that she preferred to pray to Jesus because God was too old to have a clue what she was talking about.

I laughed through my tears.
(Have you been watching Talladega Nights mom?)

I hope to hold on with the same amount of faith for however long it takes. I hope my sense of humor stays in tact too! So I guess I will put the whine and cheese away for now.

Good to be gone, good to be back...

I know I've been gone and while and the blog world must have seemed a little dull and dark without the sunshine that is me, but vacation was just what the doctor ordered. He said it was either that or a mental hospital, to which I replied "doc, you gotta have mental to be in one of those!" He agreed that I was definitely lacking mental and said vacation would have to do. Besides, I wanted to wring every last drop that there was from the precious time with my family and treasure it in my heart.

I must say that vacation was fanfreakinfabudangawesomous! (Okay, maybe I went a teensy bit overboard with that...but I was searching for just the right adjective. That oh, so, perfect combination of letters that encapsulates the whole week that was...and alas they all fall short. By themselves they just didn't live up to the real thing. So there you go.)

We left the house on Wednesday and drove far into the Hill Country. The trip should have only taken about 5 hours, I think it took us 10. We had so much fun. We found this one part of the road where if you went really fast it felt like you were on a roller coaster, I think we must have turned around and flew down it about 10 or more times. If the people could see us from their ranches I'm sure they were wondering if they should call the police. We went down another road that had the funniest fence. I wish we had the camera out, it always happens like that. They must have had a 100 pairs of boots of all kinds. Cowboy, go-go, army and so on. All turned upside down on and stuck on the top of the fence posts. Only in Texas baby, yeah!

At every turn of the road you had your breath taken away by the scene that would unfold. The Guadalupe River winds all over the map and the various roads we took chase after it in a seemingly playful way. One minute you would see nothing but fields and ranches and cactus and with the hills far in the background, then you would follow the curve of the road and come upon the river and cedars so tall and these huge rocks right in the middle of the whole thing that looked like they jumped in because the river's call was so inviting...At some crossings it was too much for us and we had to jump in ourselves. Then as quick as a turn you were surrounded by mountains on either side. Nothing I could write here, no picture that I could post will give you an idea. It's one of those you have to experience for yourself.

It had the effect that being outdoors in a place like that always has on me, it makes me worship. It makes me to lift my arms and sing praises. It makes me to bow my heart in humility and in wonder at the awesomeness displayed by our God and Creator. It makes me smile at His creativity, laugh at His sense of humor and weep at His beauty and I've never been less than absolutely amazed. During our trip I saw several things that repeatedly caught at my heart. This post is already pretty long, so I won't write home about it today. I have started this same line of thought in another post for another day. But I will say this, the sunset, the field of flowers, the trees and the simplest rock...

The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of His hands. Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they display knowledge. There is no speech or language where their voice is not heard. Psalm 19:3

So we took a few pictures, some I've posted here: Vacation 2007

I hope you enjoy!

Are we there yet?

Nope kids we are not.
I love to travel. When I was little and we went somewhere, I never asked my mom if we were there yet. Okay, at least thats how I remember it. I was always ready to go somewhere and while we were going my eyes were glued to the road waiting to see something new. We traveled as much as a single mom in the 70's could afford and for that I am grateful, thanks moms. I wouldn't wow you with the places we went if I told you about them, but I sure enjoyed the ride. I usually didn't care what our destination was, for me, getting there was most of the excitement. I haven't lost that excitement and I hope I never do. I love to get in the car and go for a ride. Preferably out of town, but even around town is great. When Jesse and I lived in Michigan we would load the kids up in the car (that still had the Texas plates, thank you very much!) and drive for hours. Sometimes I think that's the problem in our walk with Christ (at least mine anyway)...we keep whining 'are we there yet?' No kids, not yet. Or we keep asking 'when are we going to get there?' Well, He didn't give us that answer, but He did tell us a few other things about the trip. He told us to buckle our seatbelts. (put on the armour of God). He told us to go to the bathroom before we left (get rid of all the stuff that holds us back). He told us to fuel up. (eat the Bread of Life and never hunger). He told us to keep our eyes on the road. (be watchful), and He also told us to enjoy the ride. (He gave us life abundantly and told us repeatedly not to fear). So with those instructions you'd think we'd be all set. But lately I feel like I'm not enjoying the ride. My walk with Christ feels still and staid. I struggle to read the word, I struggle to pray and I'm not real enthusiastic about going to church. I don't think faith is a feeling and I love my church. It's just been rather an odd journey these days and one that I've not had much fun on. Perhaps I'm ready to go home, perhaps. Maybe I feel like I've been down this road one too many times and I think I know what's around the corner. Maybe I just need to stop whining about getting there and enjoy the scenery. And btw what's up with that? I love life! I find the absolute beauty that is God's creation makes me worship Him all the more...but I must tell you without a doubt this world holds nothing for me and I would go to be with Him this very instant if I could. But I'm still here, and my faith in Him won't go away. No matter how much I mess up, don't have it together or stumble over my own dumb feet, I'm buckled in and ready to go. I read several articles today about this same subject. Funny how the very things you struggle with sound in what you read, hear and see. I think, not so much of a coincidence - God is funny that way. He always reaches across the seat and puts His arm around you and lets you know He's the One taking you there. Andiamo Papa!