B-r-r-r! It was cold

I spent the last week in the upper peninsula of Michigan at Cedar Camp, not far from the little town of Cedarville. I flew to Detroit, and then one of the camp workers picked me up and took me to the camp...quite a long drive from one end of the state to the other. It was dark when we got there, and then for the next two days it was gloomy and rainy. I had been warned by friends here in town and on the blog to take warm clothes, and I'm glad that I did.

On Tuesday, I think it was, the sun shone, and I finally saw the beauty that everyone had spoken of. I've never seen so many Christmas trees anywhere actually growing before. There were daffodils still in bloom, so I paused to look at them each time I passed, enjoying them over and over.

The camp that I went to is owned by Inter-Varsity Christian Fellowship. The week that I was there, there were students from University of Illinois, Champaign-Urbana campus, and University of Wisconsin-Whitewater. The students there made up the leadership teams of the chapters. Their directors were there with them as they studied and made plans for the coming school year.

During the morning and afternoon, the students studied various subjects, ranging from an overview of the Bible to racial reconciliation. In the evenings there was a speaker who Taught from I Samuel 15-17...the stories of Saul and David, and David and Goliath.

I think the thing that I enjoyed the most was the singing in the evening group. Throughout the weeks of camp, the same music is taught or sung, so that when chapters meet together, they're all on the same page as far as the music is concerned. A couple of the songs were in Spanish. The nice thing about Spanish is that even if you don't understand it, you can sing it because it's all phonetic.

My favorite song that was sung is a hymn that was written in the last few year entitled, "In Christ Alone."

In Christ alone my hope is found
He is my light, my strength, my song
This Cornerstone, this solid ground
Firm through the fiercest drought and storm
What heights of love, what depths of peace
When fears are stilled, when strivings cease
My Comforter, my All in All
Here in the love of Christ I stand

In Christ alone, who took on flesh
Fullness of God in helpless babe
This gift of love and righteousness
Scorned by the ones He came to save
'Till on that cross as Jesus died
The wrath of God was satisfied
For every sin on Him was laid
Here in the death of Christ I live

There in the ground His body lay
Light of the world by darkness slain
Then bursting forth in glorious day
Up from the grave He rose again
And as He stands in victory
Sin's curse has lost its grip on me
For I am His and He is mine
Brought with the precious blood of Christ

No guilt in life, no fear in death
This is the power of Christ in me
From life's first cry to final breath
Jesus commands my destiny
No power of hell, no scheme of man
Can ever pluck me from His hand
'Till He returns or calls me home
Here in the power of Christ I'll stand

Words by Stuart Townend

As we sang the third and fourth verses singing of His resurrection and power, there was cheering in our voices and clapping of our hands in praise to Him in Whose power we stand. It was awesome.

Going to Michigan

I'm leaving tomorrow for the upper peninsula of Michigan to volunteer for a week at an Inter-Varsity camp, so I'll be away from my computer.

I'll tell you all about it when I come back.

Ugly and Unwanted

It seems that sometimes when I post that it is about something sad, and I don't intend it to be that way.

A group of six ladies met together about 10 years ago to celebrate a 50th birthday. At that breakfast it was decided that once a month we would meet for breakfast, and for the last ten years, we have done just that. The makeup of the group has changed just a bit; we've never grown in number, (by choice) and we have never announced ourselves to those outside our little circle.

The great thing about the group is that we have never gossiped about anyone (that's unusual for six ladies, isn't it). Rather our group has been a support group to each other; sometimes we meet and don't say much. Sometimes we meet and laugh a lot; at one point, we didn't dare frequent the same restaurant twice in a row for fear that they wouldn't let us in. Sometimes we meet and weep with each other.

This past week was one of weeping for me. One of the friends in our group announced that she has been diagnosed with breast cancer. Boo-hiss! The sage of the group, whom we sometimes fondly call our "mother superior" said to her, "You know what you're dealing with. You have a diagnosis. If it were there and nothing being done, it would be so much worse." But I cried. The year that I retired from teaching I was 57. One of my dearest friends died that same week. She had been diagnosed with colon cancer the previous October and lived almost nine months. Her sister had died of cancer, and she had done everything "right." She exercised, watched her diet, had those cysts in her breasts checked twice a year, and she died anyway. I could never quite figure that one out. She was 57. A former pastor's wife in our church had surgery colon cancer when she was nearly 90, and the surgeon told her to come see him in a year. I say that I don't question God, but I couldn't figure out why she lived, and my friend didn't. And I told her so. I knew her well enough to know that I could say that to her. She's still living...I think she was 93 this month.

The title of this post is "Ugly and Unwanted." The lady whose birthday we celebrated originally, the one that caused us to begin meeting monthly worked with a support group at our church that hopes to help people who have issues with alcohol or other dependencies. One morning at breakfast, she made the statement that it seemed that all the friends she gathered around her were either ugly, or unwanted. We looked at each other and laughed...the name became ours.

Tucker and Samson

Samson and Tucker are my two grandkittens. They own Sarah, my daughter.


Samon came to live with her about a year ago. While shopping for pet food for Tucker at Petsmart, she met Samson. The Humane Society takes cats there for people to meet, and Samson chose Sarah. He's a licker. We like to call them his kitty kisses. He is a very sweet natured cat.

Tucker came to live with Sarah the year that she lived in Mount Olive North Carolina. After Sarah graduated from Mount Olive College, she came home for a year, but she really wanted to live andwork in North Carolina, so she went back to the bustling metropolis of Mount Olive (the home of Mount Olive Pickles.) She worked at a bank while she was there. One of her co-workers fed a cat who came up to her house. guess what! The cat was pregnant. Sarah made up her mind then and there that she was going to have a kitten. She asked her landlady and promised that she would spray for fleas and everything whenever she moved, and the landlady gave her permission.


Tucker was the only black kitten in the litter. Sarah held him from the day he was born, and he is truly her
cat, or perhaps I should say she is his human.

The cats get along famously. Tucker is the older cat and was there first, but Samson has fit right in; in fact, he seems to be the dominant cat in the house. Tucker loves to sleep on Sarah. Samson will lick and kiss, but he isn't a lap cat...not yet anyway.

Whenever I need a kitty fix, I go see them. I am gong to be traveling a bit, so I don't want to get another one or two just yet...but the time is coming!!

Cats are Wonderful Friends

Gentle eyes that see so much
Paws that have the quiet touch,
Purrs to signal "all is well,"
and shomw more love than words could tell.
Graceful movements touched with pride,
a calming presence by our side
A friendship that takes time to grow
Small wonder why we love them so
Author Unknown

 

Rain

 
It seemed a bit dark this morning when I woke up. I looked at my clock, and I hadn't overslept...then I heard a noise that I hadn't heard for quite some time. The sound of rain gently falling to the earth. What a welcome sight and sound.

Yesterday there was a brush fire up near Tampa that closed I-75 for several hours. People from three subdivisions had to evacuate their homes. People took hours instead of minutes to get to their homes from work.

this is the first time that we've had brush fires this close to us in our area. A few years ago there were several fires to the south which did a lot of damage, and now there is the one that has been burning on the east coast.

A few years ago when we had such a drought, I went to Orlando with a friend to a conference, and we could smell the fires from the northern part of the state. The manager of the motel said that people were calling wondering if the state was on fire.

Everyone today has been thankful for the rain that has come today, and we may be more on Thursday. We need lots right now to quench the thirst of the parched earth.

The rain is raining all around.
It falls on field and trees.
It rains on the umbrellas here,
And on the ships at sea.

Robert Louis Stevenson

 

Vickie

 
Meet Vickie. Vickie sings in our Sweet Adelines chorus. I have never spent much time with anyone who is blind, so I'm learning a lot from her. She rode home from competition with my friend and me. We had never been to her apartment before, and we had a little bit of trouble finding it. When we finally turned into the correct street, Vickie said, "Oh, that's it. I recognize the bump."

When we got to her apartment, she told us that she and Jimmy don't use the lights. (Jimmy is blind, as well.) So she walked into a perfectly dark apartment. What is the first thing that you do when you enter your house? You turn on the lights, don't you.

Vickie is gifted with perfect pitch. On the ride home, we had all four singing parts in the car, so we sang some. She got us started out in the right key, and when we finished one song, she said that we had stayed on pitch. Now, that is an accomplishment.

At our annual dinner last week at the Olive Garden, Vickie sang for us "Ave Maria" with her sweet, clear voice. Bev, in the background, accompanied her on the violin. No one said very much when she finished...just a hush.

By the way, Ben made it to his wife's graduation on Saturday and felt well enough to go to church on Sunday. Back in the hospital today for his third round of chemo. 

More about Ben

I've been rather quiet this week...sort of beat since last week's trip to Kansas City and our chorus competition. on Wednesday at Christian Women's Club, our speaker had the time mixed up, so I had to speak. That took a bit of starch out of me too. The rest of the time I've been reading blogs and trying to clean up my office...not an easy task.

I was just reading an update on Ben, and I thought I would let you know how he's doing. He has been home over a week. The doctors felt that his spirits would be better at home. The physical therapist has been working with him, helping him with his walking, and as you can see in the photo, he is walking with the help on only one person. In one update, his mom wrote that he had taken over 100 steps in the house.

His mother also wrote that when he had the surgery for the brain tumor, that his sense of humor would remain intact, since that was so much a part of his personality. One day she was on the porch reading, when she heard laughing in the house. as the therapist left, he made the comment that Ben certainly has a sense of humor...one prayer answered.

Ben has said that his goal is to be back at work in 10 weeks. He enters the hospital again on Monday for his third round of chemo.

His wife, Liza, graduates from University of South Carolina on Saturday. Her desire is for Ben to be able to attend, so keep them in your prayers that this might indeed happen.

Wa-hoo! We did it!

Well, we didn't quite win first place, but our scores improved by about 70 points. We are now a "B" chorus, instead of a "C". We placed second in the med-size choruses and sixth overall, which in our region 9, is very good. The chorus has worked long and hard to achieve. We were feeling very good about ourselves when the competition was over.

The picture at the top of the post is from our show this year. We were "The Sweethearts of the Shimmering Shawls." Our shows are always fun and draw lots of folks. The chorus sings; we have a couple of quartets from within the group, and then we always have a guest quartet come to entertain. This year we had the Humdingers. They work at one of the main attractions in the Orlando area and go by a different name there.

Singing barbershop is lots of fun. As you probably know, or may not know, all the singing is done a cappella. There are four parts: tenor, lead, baritone, and bass. The lead sings the second line of notes in the treble clef, the tenor, the top line. Baritone is the top line in the bass clef, and bass, obviously, is the bottom line of notes. All the music is memorized and is usually choreographed.

Right now, I'm singing baritone. Our part has been described by one as the chameleon of the chorus. We fit it wherever needed to fill the chord. (That's probably not a correct description, but I'm not really a musician.) I may switch to tenor, since I've become part of a quartet, and tenor is the part that was missing.

I sang in Sweet Adelines when my children were in elementary school; then I got sick, and the kids moved on to junior high, and my time was taken up with them. After my husband died (I promise not to talk about that too much) one of the ladies asked me how I was doing, and I made the comment that my days were pretty much as they had been before, but evenings got long. She said to me, "I know just the place for you." My response was that I had been thinking about that very thing, so I made the decision to join again. That has probably been on the best things I've done since losing Don.

I'll have to say, though, that learning the music after an absence of ten years is not as easy as it was back then...but I guess it is good exercise for the brain.

If you ever have the chance to hear a barbershop group sing, by all means, go. You'll be glad you did.

April 30

April 30 is a date that will forever be embedded in my memory. Four years ago, on this date, my life as I knew it changed. My husband left for work that morning, and about 3:45 in the afternoon, my best friend and pastor's wife, came with the news that Don had been killed in an accident. I felt like I had been hit with a ton of bricks. I shared about Don in my post on Valentine's Day. I won't repeat all the details here.

One's life is changed forever after an incident like that. A new normal must be found. Choices must be made. One choice that I made is that I will be happy and not wallow in misery...not that I don't miss my husband terribly. I hurt for my two young adult children who no longer have their father.

God is my sustainer; He brings peace and joy when the plans that I have are suddenly turned upside down.

This week when I was traveling I picked up a book by Ann Lamott in the airport bookstore. I had heard her name mentioned before but had never picked up one of her books to read. She wrote this in one of her chapters.

I have survived so much loss, as all of us have by our forties--my parents, dear friends, my pets. Rubble is the ground on which our deepest friendships are built. If you haven't already, you will lose someone you can't live without, and your heart will be badly broken, and you never completely get over the loss of a deeply beloved person. But this is also good news. The person lives forever, in your broken heart that doesn't seal back up. And you come through, and you learn to dance with the banged-up heart. You dance to the absurdities of life; you dance to the minuet of old friendships.

Plan B: Further Thoughts on Faith by Anne Lamott

Don's practice every morning was to shave and then have his devotions. Part of that was spent reading Our Daily Bread The Scripture passage for that day was Romans 8:28, a verse that is often quoted glibly during hard times. The Message says it like this,

"That's why we can be so sure that every detail in our lives for God is worked into something good."

Thank you, Father.

Off to Kansas City

I'm leaving early in the morning to fly to Kansas City for a three day conference connected with Stonecroft. Stonecroft is the parent name of Christian Women's Clubs.

I'll get to hear Carol Kent. Does anyone know her? She has quite a story. I'll share more when I return.

On the weekend, our Sweet Adelines chorus will be in competition with other choruses in our region. We feel like we're singing so much better than last year...Here's hoping we can get the "most improved chorus" award.

Till later...

Does Jesus Care?

I was reminded of this song at church today. One of the men in our congregation is battling cancer. He had cancer in his tongue a couple of years ago. After treatments, he was free for awhile, and now it has recurred. He has a tumor in his neck that has wound its way around a vein, so the doctors were not able to do surgery on it. They have an appointment on Tuesday with the oncologist to discuss his options.

While I was talking to his wife, I said that I have not dealt with cancer. My mother did die from it, but by the time she was diagnosed, she was gone in three weeks. All the things we had observed in her seemed to be signs of old age. In talking with Erma, I mentioned that even though I had never dealt with cancer, I had had my own tragedy in my life, losing my husband in an accident.

I reminded myself that while our tragedies are great, nothing compares to the pain that He bore on the cross for us...

Does Jesus care when my heart is pained
Too deeply for mirth or song,
As the burdens press, and the cares distress
And the way grows weary and long?

Refrain

Oh yes, He cares, I know He cares,
His heart is touched with my grief;
When the days are weary, the long nights dreary,
I know my Savior cares.

Does Jesus care when my way is dark
With a nameless dread and fear?
As the daylight fades into deep night shades,
Does He care enough to be near?

Refrain

Does Jesus care when I’ve tried and failed
To resist some temptation strong;
When for my deep grief there is no relief,
Though my tears flow all the night long?

Refrain

Does Jesus care when I’ve said “goodbye”
To the dearest on earth to me,
And my sad heart aches till it nearly breaks,
Is it aught to Him? Does He see?

Refrain

What comfort to know that nothing happens to us without the Father.

What's the weather like where you live?

Each of us makes his own weather,
determines the color of the skies in the emotional universe which he inhabits. -- Bishop Fulton J. Sheen

This quote was in an e-mail that I received this morning. I thought it quite an appropriate thought. I have read blogs from people who live in the far north who are just now beginning to see signs of spring and sunshine. They are rejoicing.

In Florida, winter days are often just "another day in paradise." We wear sweaters, maybe, and we almost always have the sun shining. I remember my children going north for college and commenting about rarely seeing the sun during winter. My best friend and her husband moved to the Chicago area in October, and she told me that she went out and bought brighter lightbulbs for the lamps in her house to make things brighter.

We are affected by our surroundings, aren't we. Temperatures are beginning to climb here, and hurricane season will start soon. This brings a certain unease.

But this certainly isn't the weather that Bishop Sheen speaks of. Our circumstances might seem dismal at times, but we can make the choice to have sunshine in our days, contentment in our hearts.

When I lived in Haiti, a favorite song of the Christians was "My Father Planned it All." It says that even when the way seems dreary, and there are dark shadows, we can know that wherever He leads us, our Father planned it all. I love it in the Creole language. It says Papa-m ranje-l konsa. God is lovingly referred to as Papa in Creole. I love the intimacy that that words expresses.

Where Did I Park?

 

When I was in Nashville, as I stated before, I stayed at the Opryland Hotel, which is next to the Grand old Opry, which is next to the Opry Mills Outlet Mall. At the end of the mall in the parking lot, I noticed this sign.

I used to watch elderly people come out of the grocery store, or out of Wal-Mart, and stand looking, looking for their cars. I used to think, "Poor dears."

Now it's not so funny. I have become one of them...not always remembering exactly where I left my car...especially if I didn't take careful notice of what aisle I had parked my car in. 

Christ Is Risen! Hallelujah!

What a glorious day to sing of His resurrection and hear the message that is unique to Christianity. No other religion in the world can claim a living Savior! When I was at university, every Sunday morning our church service took place on campus. Below is one of the first hymns I remember learning there, and it is probably the one that has stayed in my mind the most over these years.

Arise, my soul, arise; shake off thy guilty fears;
The bleeding sacrifice in my behalf appears:
Before the throne my surety stands,
Before the throne my surety stands,
My name is written on His hands.

He ever lives above, for me to intercede;
His all redeeming love, His precious blood, to plead:
His blood atoned for all our race,
His blood atoned for all our race,
And sprinkles now the throne of grace.

Five bleeding wounds He bears; received on Calvary;
They pour effectual prayers; they strongly plead for me:
“Forgive him, O forgive,” they cry,
“Forgive him, O forgive,” they cry,
“Nor let that ransomed sinner die!”

The Father hears Him pray, His dear anointed One;
He cannot turn away, the presence of His Son;
His Spirit answers to the blood,
His Spirit answers to the blood,
And tells me I am born of God.

My God is reconciled; His pardoning voice I hear;
He owns me for His child; I can no longer fear:
With confidence I now draw nigh,
With confidence I now draw nigh,
And “Father, Abba, Father,” cry.

These words were written by Charles Wesley.

Thank you, Lord, that my name is written on Your hand. I am born of God, and I can draw near to You with confidence...all because of the death, burial, and resurrection of my Lord.

Happy Birthday, David

 

On Easter Sunday, 1979, David came into our lives. What an Easter gift! Easter was April 15th that year. My friend, Sara, who worked as an accountant, was working that day. I called her from the hospital to let her know that David had been born. Her comment was, "Well, he may be the Easter bunny this year, but from now on he'll be known as form 1040. Isn't that some reminder of one's birthday...the day that income taxes are due.

1979 was known as "the year of the child" because the children born that year would turn 21 in the year 2000, and her it is 2006. Twenty-seven years have passed, and now my son is a young man, who is married and will soon become a father himself.

Happy birthday, David. I love you. 

Hallelujah! What a Savior!

He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows.” Isaiah 53:3

Man of Sorrows! what a name
For the Son of God, Who came
Ruined sinners to reclaim.
Hallelujah! What a Savior!

Bearing shame and scoffing rude,
In my place condemned He stood;
Sealed my pardon with His blood.
Hallelujah! What a Savior!

Guilty, vile, and helpless we;
Spotless Lamb of God was He;
“Full atonement!” can it be?
Hallelujah! What a Savior!

Lifted up was He to die;
“It is finished!” was His cry;
Now in Heav’n exalted high.
Hallelujah! What a Savior!

When He comes, our glorious King,
All His ransomed home to bring,
Then anew His song we’ll sing:
Hallelujah! What a Savior!

Words and Music by Philip P. Bliss

Words cannot express the feeling in my heart on this day.

Inside Opryland

As I mentioned before, I went to Nashville for Mark Lowry's Senior Trip. While in Nashville, we stayed at the Opryland Hotel. We were told that this facility is the largest hotel and convention center under one roof in the world. That is, a facility without a casino. Some of the hotels in Las Vegas are larger.
Everything is first class. There are nearly 2900 guest rooms there. We stayed in the Magnolia section, which is the oldest section of the hotel, having been built in 1977. The Delta section was added, then the Cascades. All of these photos were taken in the Cascades section. All of the guest rooms in the Cascades look out onto these gardens.

As one moves from the Cascades to the Delta section there are more gardens. Much of it is similar to what one might see in Florida in places like Jungle Gardens in Sarasota. In the Delta section there are shops and a river that contains water from rivers from around the world. A boat ride is available for those who care to ride around.

A return trip is a definite for me. Southern hospitality abounds. People take time to talk to you. The only down part of our time was the fact that tornadoes struck around us in some of the communities; homes were destroyed, and lives were lost.

It was a good time for getting away and relaxing for a few days, enjoying spring and fellowship with other folks.

Captain Speece

This is an update on Ben, the young man who has Stage 3 testicular cancer. His mother has taken a leave of absence from her school here in Florida to go help care for him. Ben's wife, Liza, is student teaching, and Marilyn is there to try to ease some of the stress on her.

His mom wrote, Ben got an MRI today [4/11] about 3:30 using galleon because he had an allergic reaction to the other dye. We don't know the results yet, but he did not have a reaction to it. The next chemo they have put off until tomorrow and the port the doctor has postponed until Wed.

Part of what I was reading in my devotions this morning was II Chron. 20:4, 12, 15, 17, & 20. What an encouragement to share with Ben and Liza and for myself! "We have no power to face this vast army that is attacking us. We do not know what to do, but our eyes are upon you...For the battle is not yours, but God's Take up your positions; stand firm and see the deliverance the Lord will give you...Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged."

The doctor gave us answers to yesterday's concerns. Mostly time would take care of the sore arm and swollen leg. The nurse quoted scripture when she saw the slogans on the wall. Two friends visited and prayed with him and 7 others came. He has cards taped on the wall where he can see them.

[A friend] put up a new poster, "They call me Captain Speece because my progress is astonomical." It came from an e-mail that Liza had sent to friends referring to when Ben moved his right arm for the first time on Sat. Liza said, "That is great, Ben!" Ben replied, "That's astronomical!"

The OT therapist was in today. She worked with him on the bed for 2 days because he needed 2 units of blood yesterday. Today, however, Ben stood and his blood pressure didn't drop. He was exhausted when it was done. Then the speech therapist arrived. Ben has to think hard to produce words. There is a lot of retraining of his brain to be done. She showed him pictures to identify, had him produce words in a category, name days, months, generate words in a sentence, etc. The therapist said Ben showed improvement from last week.

Continue to remember Ben and his family.

Senior trip

 
Last week was a fun time. I had shared with some that I was going to board a bus in Bradenton and go to Nashville for Mark Lowry's Senior Trip...not the type of senior trip that one thinks of. Everyone on this trip had to be at least 50 or married to someone over 50.

A good time was had by all. We stayed in the Opryland Hotel...such a hardship...just kidding. That was an experience in itself. The complex is the largest hotel and conference center under roof in the world that doesn't have a casino. Hotels in Vegas are larger, but they come with casinos.

One can easily get lost wandering up and down halls. After our first meeting that evening, I told my roommate that I was going to walk around and get my bearings. After I did that, it was much easier.

If you're a fan of the Gaither Homecoming gatherings, you are familiar with Mark Lowry. He was for a time a member of the Gaither Vocal Band. After a while, he went out on his own. He is quite a comedian, singer, and song writer. He is the author of "Mary, Did You Know?" a Christmas song that is no doubt on its way to becoming a classic.

Chonda Pierce was there on Thursday evening to help host the show. What a character! She is a comedienne, as well. If you've never had the chance to hear her and you hear of her being in the area, by all means, go. She's so funny, but then she brings her comedy act to thoughts of the Lord...outstanding. She helps us Christians laugh at ourselves.

Many other notables were there also. I'll share about them in another post.

The picture in this post was taken in the Delta section of the hotel. More later... 

Home again, home again, jiggity jig

I just got back from a trip to Nashville with a group of senior citizens. What fun! A group called the Breakfast Club took a trip to Nashville. We stayed at the Opryland Hotel and enjoyed a 2-day program with Mark Lowry. If you're familiar with the Gaithers, then you know Mark. Laughs were to be found everywhere, and sometimes a tear of two. I'll check back in later with some more information.

I stayed up quite a while last night getting caught up with everyone's blog that I frequent...I suffered a bit of withdrawal while gone.

A Song for Sunday

When I thought about an entry for today, my mind was still on Ben and his family. I worshiped this morning where his dad is pastor. It is also the church that I grew up in and was a member of until 1992 when our family went to a new church. I have many close ties there still.

Ben's dad wasn't back from North Carolina today; he'll be back tomorrow. His mom was, however. Her dad died yesterday after a short illness. His memorial service is tomorrow. And then Ben's mom will be taking a leave from her classroom for the rest of the year to go back up and help be a support to her daughter-in-law, who is student teaching.

One of the songs we sang this morning was "Great is Thy Faithfulness." Such a wonderful hymn. We sang that at my husband's memorial service four years ago. I was going to put the words here, but when I went to cyberhymal.org, there was a copyright sign after the title with the warning not to cut and paste it without permission...so I didn't. But it is such a wonderful hymn...speaking of God's faithfulness through good time and bad. It is probably my favorite hymn.

We also sang "I Can Only Imagine," another great contemporary song that has been sung a lot lately. And then we shared the Lord's supper. That was just where I was supposed to be today.

On Tuesday I'm going with a group of senior citizens to Nashville. I hate to admit that I'm that age. But the thought of getting on a bus and let someone else do all the planning and worrying sort of pleases me, so I'm going to give it a try.

Update on Ben

The other day I wrote about Ben. His dad wrote that he is alert andate a little of both his lunch and dinner yesterday. He doesn't open his eyes much but responds to everything he is asked. He also has retained his sense of humor.

He has lost a lot of weight and is fortunate that he is going into this with a little extra weight on his frame.

RSP had mentioned that Indiana U. has the expert on this kind of cancer, and Ben's oncologist is consulting with him on Ben's case. The survival rate for patients with this type of cancer at the advanced stage foloiwng the chemotherapy is 48%.

His dad said they are very grateful for the outpouring ofprayers and concern on Ben's behalf. "Our trust is in the Lord Who gave Himself for us." Please continue to remember Ben.

Just dropping by to say hi

My son called tonight. I mentioned in another post that he and his wife are expecting their first child, making me a grandmother for the first time. He called and said, "Mom, we're having a baby."

"Yes," I said. "The baby is healthy," he said. "Yes," I said. He made me ask what the sex is. It's a GIRL. Everyone in the family had been thinking boy. We are rejoicing that this is a healthy baby girl...and then there are my friends who were told by the doctor that their baby was a girl. They went home and told their son that he was getting a brother, and when they went home from the hospital, they took Amy home,''

Some sad news in our family of friends here. A pastor's 29 year old son is in the hospital in North Carolina with stage three testicular cancer. He was at work two weeks ago and started having bad headaches and his speech became garbled. His coworker took him to the hospital, they did a scan and found swelling in the brain, kept him a few days on medication, and sent him home to finish the course of medicine.

On Sunday his side began to hurt and he went back to the hospital. They did surgery on Monday to remove a tumor from the brain. They were not able to remove all of it. He has tumors in his lungs and his liver.

A course of chemotherapy was begun today. Pray for Ben when you think of him, and for his family. His father just buried his own mother a month ago, and his mom's father is not doing well. Ben's parents were missionaries with Wycliffe for many years, and they buried a baby over there.

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

Refrain

It is well, with my soul,
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul.

Refrain



My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought!
My sin, not in part but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!

Refrain

For me, be it Christ, be it Christ hence to live:
If Jordan above me shall roll,
No pang shall be mine, for in death as in life
Thou wilt whisper Thy peace to my soul.

Refrain

But, Lord, ‘tis for Thee, for Thy coming we wait,
The sky, not the grave, is our goal;
Oh trump of the angel! Oh voice of the Lord!
Blessèd hope, blessèd rest of my soul!

Refrain

And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight,
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;
The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,
Even so, it is well with my soul.

Refrain

Hymnals don't have all these verses in the books. I found this at cyberhymnal.org.

McKechnie Field

This picture is especially for the "hermit" who lives in Tennessee. She has mentioned how she loves baseball and that her mother had lived here in Bradenton. The field is in the same location that it has always been. I remember as a little girl when the Boston Braves had their spring training here, then they were the Milwaukee Braves.

My mother worked in a drugstore in downtown Bradenton and served Eddie Matthews and Warren Spahn. Warren Spahn lived here for many years.

The Pittsburgh Pirates came here after the Braves. They had some good years when they had the Killer B's...Barry Bonds, Bobby Bonilla, Sid Bream, Jay Bell...there was one more, but I can't remember his name. He played third base...and then there was Andy VanSlyke in center field. Jimmy Leyland was the coach. After a while, things went south. Jimmy Leyland left. He said he felt like he was simply providing players for the teams that paid the players more.

Now he's back coaching the Tigers. I hope he does well.

Right now, Florida is leading Georgetown in the Sweet 16. Will they make it to the Elite 8? Another 11 minutes will tell the tale.

Nine lives?

No, this post is not about a cat. This past year I've been the chair of the local Christian Women's Club here in Bradenton. It is my responsibility to find speakers for our meeting. In February, we had a lady come speak to us. Her topic was "Struck by Lightning, Then by Love." She shared with us how, early in her marriage in Minnesota, she and her family went camping. She told us that was not her idea of a vacation...sleeping in a tent and cooking over a fire.

On this one particular trip, she and her husband were struck by lightning. She described the horrors of it all. They found themselves in a hospital room, lying beside each other, wondering when it would all end. They both survived, and she tells her story of how God became very real to her. She did not become a Christian just then, but later on, God's love won her heart.

This lady is now 82 years old. A designer of fashion jewelry, she enjoys being a special feature person at Christian Women's Club, and so we thought we would ask her to come back in December to talk to us about her jewelry.

I called her home Sunday afternoon and left a message for her. The next day her granddaughter called me and said that she had fallen out of bed and broken her neck, and that she probably would not be able to speak to us in December. The fall, surely by a miracle, did not paralyze her.

This morning my phone rang, and Wilma was on the phone. "Don't count me out for December," she said. I hope to be better by August. I didn't ask her how she happened to fall out of bed, but she shared with me how she ended up face down on the floor. She lives alone with her Maltese, and she said that she reached for the phone in the dark to dial her daughter. Her daughter came along with the ambulance.

As she entered Wilma's room, Wilma thought to herself, "What gown do I have on?" I guess she was wondering if she was presentable enough for the ambulance guys. Her daughter assured her that the dog had made sure she was covered up.

She went to the hospital where they x-rayed her, read them while they were wet, and told her she was o.k. She went home with her daughter. No sooner had she gotten home than they called her to come back in an ambulance. She had what is described as a "hangman's break." She should have been dead, or paralyzed. She is neither.

She's planning now to go to a rehab facility to recover. I was telling my daughter about her. She's a true example of how one's outlook and attitude help in one's recovery. If you're a praying person, pray for her. She has a tremendous speaking ministry, and I don't think she's done yet.

Two down, seven to go?

Happy Spring

I have so enjoyed visiting different blogs today and the last few days and seeing all the lovely pictures of spring flowers. I can only imagine how it must be to see new life again after a winter of dreariness and no leaves on the trees. Living in Florida, we do have spring, but it's much more subtle than having the tulips and daffodils and all the other pretty flowers.

The oak trees shed their leaves in mid-winter without ever having changed colors. The new growth comes out quickly. Everyone this year has suffered terribly from allergies because of the blossoms. I, who never have reacted to them, thought I was dying this year. I was sure that the cough was going to carry me off. Thankfully, it only lasted a little while.

We get spoiled here having flowers year round. I don't think our green is ever as pretty as the spring green I've seen elsewhere, that is unless you use lots of water and fertilizer. My grass isn't green because I won't pay the city for the water to water it, and the well that we had I think has long since gone dry.

I remember visiting my daughter for the 21st birthday in North Carolina in January. The kids from Florida always said that winters were so dreary in the north...North Carolina qualifies for north in this instance. Dreary is not the word. When I flew into Raleigh, I remember looking out at the beautiful subdivisions with all the dead trees. The next day as were driving around, I realized that the trees were supposed to look that way.

When I flew back home, got into my car, and drove across the Sunshine skyway with the sun gleaming on the water, I realized once again why all the snowbirds leave their homes in the north for the winter and come south.

Our March here has been incredible...just another day in paradise. I don't think any baseball games have been rained out.

In another week or so, the snowbirds will be returning to their homes in the north, and then in the summer, many Floridians will head for the hills in North Carolina and Georgia to escape the heat of summer...it isn't exactly paradise then.

Grasshoppers, anyone?

 

I love this picture. I have some friends who are missionaries in Cameroon, Africa. When they first went to the field, I asked Ellen if she would like some Pampered Chef products to take along. One of the items selected was the batter bowl, which comes with a lid. At our shows we tout all the benefits of this bowl...it truly is very useful and versatile. However, this is one use that I don't think anyone in the home office thought of.

When Thom and Ellen came to visit, they told me how much Gladys, the lady who works in their home, enjoyed all the products. In a later letter, there were several photos.

It started out with the young Cameroonians out in the field gathering grasshoppers, the next picture is this one of Gladys, holding the catch in the batter bowl...then the grasshoppers frying in the pan...finally being eaten by Thom.

It reminds me of the old song, "Where He leads me, I will follow, What He feeds me, I will swallow." 

My Mother

 

Have you ever read the book, Strawberry Girl? It was written by the author Lois Lenski, who wrote books about children from different regions of the country. I asked my children for a copy of it for a Christmas present this year. When they started looking, the looked for an original copy, but it was out of reach, and so they gave me a paperback edition, which happens to be a sixtieth anniversary edition. I just began reading it last night. I'm sure that I read it as a girl.

The setting is Florida. The characters are families who are making a living, or trying to, off the sandy soil. I remember my mother speaking of having to pick strawberries as a girl to help the family make a living. In her later years, she would still go to the fields to pick them after the farmers opened them up to the public. One day she said how much she disliked the task...it isn't easy, you know, with the strawberries growing on the low plants.

My mother was raised in north Florida. She told me that her father's family came from South Carolina, as did the characters in this book. Mother was the second of six children. At one time in her life, she told me that her daddy worked in a logging camp in Scanlon, and they actually lived in a box car. She never did describe to me how it was, and I have a hard time imagining it. Was it literally a box, with no windows? Was it somehow made to be livable? It was when she was twelve that she said she contracted malaria. I can only imagine how hard that might have been.

I remember her teling me how her mother washed the kids' hair with kerosene to get rid of the lice that they had gotten from those "dirty children" who lived not too far away.

I don't know when they moved to town, but Mother graduated from high school in 1930 from the high school in Starke. Some of you know Starke as that town on 301 that you have to drive through when you're going from I-10 to I-75. Although she was next to the oldest of her siblings, she was the only one to graduate from high school.

At some point, she moved from Starke to Lacoochee to live with her older sister, and that is where she met my daddy, who lived in Trilby. He worked at the Cummer Cypress Lumber Mill. They met and married in 1933, right during the depression. Mother didn't have wedding rings until she had been married ten years. In one of my first posts, I shared how they left Lacoochee and moved to Bradenton.

Mother was a very hard worker. She worked in a drug store in Bradenton from 1947 to 1964 when my father died from a heart attack. Montgomery Ward opened a big, new store, and she managed their coffee shop for a while.

She was 50 when my daddy died. I had graduated from college and had gone to Cincinnati to work, and I did not realize what a hard time my mother was having. Both of her parents died and my father died all within a thirteen month period. She continued at her work in order to keep going, but as I said, I didn't know just how hard it was for her.

She was always there for me, whenever I needed anything. I guess that's what mothers are for, isn't it. When Don and I built our house, she gave us money for all the window treatments. When Sarah was born, she took care of her for her first two years of life. We paid her Social Security so that we could claim the child care on our income tax, and when she had finished taking care of her, she gave us the money back that we had given to her.

She's been gone for twelve years. She had a hard life, but a good life, and she never complained... not that I remember anyway. Time has a way of erasing anything unpleasant, doesn't it, and that's a good thing.


"Look in those eyes. Listen to tht dear voice. Notice the feeling of even a single touch that is bestowed upon you by that gentle hand! Make much of it while yet you have that most precious of all gifts. Read the unfathomable love of those eyes, the anxiety of that tone and look, however slight is your pain. In after life you may have friends, fonds, dears, but never you will have again the inexpressible love and gentleness lavished upon you which mone but a mother bestows." - Macaulay 

Pensive

 

Someone commented that they liked the name Color. When she was a kitten, her colors were so vibrant and so many, that seemed a logical name for her. After her experience with the paint and her venture into the outside world, we didn't have to worry too much about her straying very far again.

It's amazing how an animal becomes so much a part of one's life. Ourdaughter graduated and went off to college, and whenever she came home, Color was glad to see her. The same with David. He wasn't as permissive with her as the rest of us. However, Color loved to rub her face against his big feet. On occasion, she would take a sniff of his sneakers and walk away with her mouth open, as if to say, "Boy, those shoes stink."

After I retired from the school board and was home during the day, she said, "Now I've got you where I want you." My lap became her resting place. I loved the excuse of not being able to get up.

On April 30, 2002, the day that my husband went off to work and never came home again was, if you've read my other blogs, the most difficult day of my life. When you open the paper and read of the accident that took your husband's life, it is surreal. So often we read articles like that and think, "Oh, those poor people."
And then it's you.

Our house was filled with people that afternoon and evening. Color didn't know what to think. She had never been fond of a lot of people. Family was o.k., but other than that, she'd rather not.

After everyone had left that evening, I went upstairs to do some e-mailing, and Color was lying at the to of the stairs. I finished and went to my room, and she came down and lay near the door. A mournful cry began. I got up to see what was wrong, and she was lying there twitching, her eyes crossed, her tongue hanging out. I thought for sure that she was dying, and I think I said out loud, "Go ahead and die tonight. At least it won't hurt so bad after everything that has happened today." I checked on her throughout the night, touched her, and each time she looked up at me. About five in the morning, I got up and took a shower. I hadn't slept anyway. When I looked for her, she wasn't there. She had gone downstairs.

She got better, and then six months to the day later, she had another spell like the one on April 30. The vet said she felt sure that she had hepatic encephalopathy. A couple of years previous, we had done an ultrasound, and found that her liver was filled with cysts. The ultrasound is another story in itself.

The vet gave me some medicine for her, she got better and had no other spells, until finally last fall, she breathed her last.

After everyone else had gone, she had remained, and now she's gone...a wonderful friend and companion. 

Lady in Red

Color came to live at our house when she was about seven weeks old in 1987. We had ventured into the pet business earlier in the year with a white kitten, who unfortunately had feline leukemia. The vet had immunized her, but we decided later that her mother must have been infected, because her owner said she had gone off and never came home.

After what the vet said would be a safe amount of time to introduce another cat into our home, we looked in the newspaper for a kitten needing a home. As a result, Color came to live with us and be a part of our family. She fell in love with my husband. Every day when she heard him come in through the garage, she would sit at the door and wait for him to come in and make over her.

Often at the dinner table, she would jump up on a chair and sit with her nose sniffing around to see if there might be something that she would like.

One evening when she was three or four, I left the house to go for parent conferences at our kids' school. When I went out the front door, she scooted out in front of me. We looked for her; I went on to the school, This was on a Tuesday night. We looked everywhere, called the SPCA and Humane Society, but she didn't turn up.

Every morning when my husband was praying with the children before taking them to school, he would pray for Color and could hardly talk. On Friday morning, I had come down stairs before Don, and I heard a cat in the back yard by the pool. I went out, and there she was...ready to come in. There was pink paint on her back...no telling where that came from.

The children had the day off from school, and so they cared for her. When I called them to see how she was doing, they said that her fur was coming out when she licked it. After I got home from school, we took her to the vet, and he shaved off the painted fur and gave her a shot against infection.

After that episode, I didn't worry about her too much if she got out. She knew the way home. However, we made very sure that she was nowhere near us when we opened the door.

More to follow....

Mourning

Sometime ago, I came across the blog of a young pastor in Norwood, Ohio. My eyes lit up because when I graduated from college, I went to Norwood and taught for two years in the Norwood Baptist Christian School. Even though it has been almost forty years since I was there, I still felt a closeness to the friends that I made there.

Chad was living there, seeking to make a difference in the city. He was also a great Steelers fan, and when Pittsburgh was playing Cincinnati in football this year, he caught all kinds of grief from his friends. On of his entries, he had a picture of the Terrible Towel, and the link to the store where they could be bought. I ordered a couple for friends here in Florida.

Not long after the Super Bowl (Yea! Steelers!) he posted that he didn't feel too well and that he probably needed to go to the doctor. Much to my shock, two days ago, I visited his blog, and in the comment section, someone had posted that Chad was in critical condition in ICU with bleeding in his lungs. He then developed a blood clot in his leg.

This morning at 7:00 he passed into the presence of the Lord at the age of 34. What a wonderful promise, "Absent from the body, present with the Lord." But what a hole left for his wife and children. Pray for his wife, Renee, and his two children Colon and Aiden.

A better view

 

I'm learning how to do this stuff...fun...and I should be doing other things right now. Oh well... 

My grandfather and great-grandmother

I was browsing blogs the other day and found one whose author was scanning old photos and sharing some of them on her posts. That has been my intention for some time...to preserve some of those old photos that continue to age.

When my son, David, was in junior high and high school, he wanted to play the guitar, and I never encouraged that. I apologized to him later. He finally bought a guitar and basically taught himself to play, and he is used that gift in his campus ministry and church.

Once while he was home, I showed him this picture of his great-grandfather. He's the one with the banjo. I don't know when the picture was taken, but I imagine it was in Georgia becasue that's where my daddy was born. I think that David was pleased to know that he perhaps shared some of the talent from his grandfather's side of the family.

The woman in the black dress is my great-grandmother. I know that because I recognize the black dress from another photo. I don't know about the others. I wish I knew the date also that the picture was made. 

Buy Me Some Peanuts and Crackerjacks

March is the month of spring training in Florida (and Arizona.) Here in Florida it's known as the Grapefruit League. In February, pitchers and catchers come to the state and start their practice, and then during March, the teams practice playing. All of the hopefuls who are invited have high numbers on their uniforms.

Today at the Pirates/Twins game, I only recognized three or four names. The Pirates won, by the way. I believe they've only lost one game so far, but then they've only played since March 1. The Tampa Bay Devil Rays are on a roll. They've even won four games (I think.) As I'm writing this and looking for some stats, I see that Kirby Puckett has died after suffering a stroke yesterday.

Spring training games are very relaxed. You don't have an announcer trying to be smart and making comments...they just announce the player, and we watch. Last week, or the last week in February, was a picture of one of the pitcher's dogs doing his business on the infield. You don't see that every day. You do see the players running sprints near the outfield wall, and you can hear the crack of the bat as men work on their batting skills.

Today was my day to eat a foot-long hot dog. I shall eat no more during the season, since I just signed up with Weight Watchers online. I relished every bite. No salted, roasted peanuts though. The salt is a no-no.

I have a friend from church who goes with me to the games. This is her last rite of spring before she returns to Indiana for the summer.

In a month, they're gone. The young ones are hoping to make the roster of the team, as are some of the experienced players. The field becomes quiet until another spring.

More about David

As I said earlier, David went to Penn State and majored in engineering. As he continued in his studies and worked alongside men who had done engineering all their lives, he asked them about their work. To most of them, their job was a paycheck. Now a paycheck is an important thing, but with David's involvement with a group called Christians in Action on campus, he began to realize that God had a different calling on his life.

He continued his engineering, but after he graduated, he became a campus minister with the Coalition for Christian Outreach, based in Pittsburgh. He worked for three years in Indiana PA at the university there. As his contract ran out, he realized that he indeed did want to be involved in education and applied for graduate school at the University of Virginia.

During his time as campus minister, he got married to a wonderful woman named Sabrina. They headed off last fall to Waynesboro VA, not far from Charlottesville, and as they counted the cost of starting graduate work as an out-of-state student, they realized the cost would put them deep in debt. So for this year, they have been working to establish residency, with the hope of starting next year.

A lot has happened...the main thing is that a baby is on the way, and that has changed things again. David's substitute teaching, and he hopes to get a permanent position for fall, and hopefully, to start taking a course.

Things have not gone as he had planned, and I know that there has been some discouragement, but I remind him that God is never late in His plans...just some detours sometimes...and besides that, I'm going to be a GRANDMOTHER!

My Grandkittens

I love to go to the blogs that have pictures of cats. My, how many cat lovers there are in the blogosphere. I lost my feline friend of 18 years last fall. She was with us through thick and thin. My daughter, Sarah, however, has two cats named Tucker and Samson. Whenever I need a kitty fix, I go to her house.

Tucker came to live with her when he was about six weeks old. She had held him from the day he was born, and my they have such a wonderful bond. He is all black, except for a little bit of white here and there. He had his fourth birthday in May.

One day Sarah said, "Mom, I think I'm going to get another cat." She had been going to Petsmart, and a cat there chose her to be his mom. The Humane Society places cats there in hopes of adopting them out. Every time she would go, Samson would reach out his paw to her. He chose her insteach of her choosing him.

The boys get along famously. Samson has never been declawed, and when Sarah brought him home, Tucker showed him the scratching post, and he began using that, and his claws don't come out at all unless he's chasing one of his many mice around the house.

Tucker is long and lean; Samson is short and stocky. They keep each other company while Mom is at work. Such great friends!!

David

My last post was about my daughter, Sarah. Today I’d like to post about my son, David. This is one of my favorite photos of him. The picture was taken at DisneyWorld on Tom Sawyer’s Island when David was about three.

David was born on Easter Sunday, 1979. That day also happened to be April 15 that year. My dear friend, Sara, for whom my daughter is named, happened to be at work that day. She was an accountant and was doing last minute taxes for other people and perhaps her own. David was born just before 11 that morning, and after I got back to the room, I called her at work to tell her that he had been born. Her response, “We’ll call him the Easter bunny this year, but after that, he’ll just be ‘Form 1040.’” What a day for a birthday! At least, we’re patriotic. Sarah’s birthday was Inauguration Day, and David’s income tax day…What a reminder! (

When David was 10 months old, he became very ill with HFlu. After his recovery, I was in my dermatologist’s office, and when I told him about David’s illness, his comment was, “I would have like to have seen that. We lose babies with that.” I knew that he was ill, but I didn’t realize just how ill.

David is very tall, and even in kindergarten, he towered over his friends. He became a very good student in school, and as he got into junior high and high school, he began to play basketball. He had played baseball in Little League. David was not the most athletic on the basketball team, but in his senior year, he was named a scholar-athlete above the other young men.

When it came time for university, he said to his father and me, “I want to go to a big school when I graduate, and I don’t want to go to school in Florida.” There were 55 in his graduating class. Because my children were my mother’s only two grandchildren, she provided for their college education with her gifts and investments over the years.

So off to Penn State David went. He went with the idea of majoring in engineering, which he did, but about halfway through his college career, he really became convicted that his work should be more people oriented. After graduating, he spent three years in Indiana, Pennsylvania at IUP, doing campus ministry.

He now is in Waynesboro, Virginia, establishing residency before entering UVA’s graduate school of education. More about David in another post….

Sarah

This is one of my favorite pictures of my daughter, Sarah. She was about four at the time. Sarah's my firstborn, born when I was 35. I tell everyone that I started the trend of ladies having babies at a later age.

I was 31 when I married, and Don and I waited a while before deciding to have a baby.I had a very dear friend named Sara who lived and worked in Bradenton. She was quite a few years older than I, but we had a great relationship, and when I became pregnant, I told my husband that if this was a girl, she had to be Sarah. Two other couples at our church were pregnant at the same time, and they had both chosen the name Sarah Elizabeth for their babies, that is, if they had girls. I prayed really hard that they would have boys, because the name Sarah Elizabeth was the only name that I had for a girl!Lo and behold, they both delivered before I did, and they both had boys. What a relief!

And then, on January 20, we delivered our daughter. We didn't know that we were having a girl. Sonograms were not quite as prevalent as they are now. A dear Jamaican friend, who was still working in Haiti where I had been, told the ladies there that if the baby's heartbeat was on the right, it was a girl, and if it was on the left, it was a boy. Several missionary women were pregnant; their babies' heartbeats were on the left. And guess what, they gave birth to boys. Sarah's heartbeat was always on the right, and yes! We had a baby girl. My obstetrician said that he had heard lots of ways of predicting the sex of a baby, but never that one.

Today Sarah lives and works in Bradenton. She is my rock. When her daddy died, it was one of the worst days of her life. They had such a bond; they are so much alike. When she laughs and throws her head back or turns her head, I see her dad. I'll never forget what he looks like when I look at her.After I had surgery a year and a half ago, she was right there to see to my needs. I can say today that she is my best friend.

I love you, Sarah.

A cup of coffee?

Would you like a cup of coffee? Whenever we went visiting in Haiti, the lady of the house felt that it was her duty to offer a cup of coffee. It was wonderful to share a cup of coffee with these very gracious people, but, oh my, the work that went into preparing it.

Kitchens in a Haitian home are away from the regular dwelling. Before the coffee can be made, a fire has to be built to heat the water. Madame did not go down to the corner grocery for the flavor of the day. She bought the beans, roasted them, and then ground them. In Haiti you pile them. There needs to be an accent aigu over that e, but I don’t know how to do it. ( The coffee goes into the sack that she has there, and then she pours the hot water over the beans to make the beverage.

Then madame graciously served the coffee in demitasses on a tray. The coffee is very strong, and it needs lots of sugar. Good to the last drop!

There’s nothing like sharing a good cup of coffee with a friend.

A Trip Down Memory Lane

Saturday my friend Peggy and I took a trip down memory lane.  We drove over to Polk City, Florida to visit Camp Gilead.  We both went there to camp when we were young girls.  At our church in Bradenton, we had enrolled in Bible Memory Association.  If we learned 250 verses, we would earn a free week at Bible camp.  Five of us enrolled, and we did learn those verses…all over a twelve week period.  We learned entire passages and had to recite them to a listener at the end of the week.

The nearest camp to us was in Alabama, and that was not a possibility for us to go.  This was 1951, fifty-five years ago.  We heard about this camp in central Florida that had a Bible memory program, except you had to learn 300 verses to go to their camp.  A gentleman who worked with them knew about the five of us, and he wrote to Children’s Bible Mission (CBM) to see if we could attend their camp if we learned an additional 50 verses.  They agree, we did, and that began our experience in Bible camp.

Upon arrival at camp, we registered and went to our cabins.  The camp was fairly new.  The camp director was a lady.  Peggy and I said that those ladies seemed awfully old to us.  They were barely 30, but when you’re nine, anyone seems old.  We slept in cabins that had bunks.  The cabins were frame construction, with big wooden flaps that you propped up for ventilation.  When it rained and they had to be closed, they were really hotboxes.

We went to chapel every day.  The chapel was in the center of the campground.  It had the same wooden flaps for windows, and the floor was sawdust.  We had Bible lessons in the morning, a missionary speaker in the afternoon, and chapel again at night.  In between those times, we spent time swimming in the lake and enjoying handcrafts.

At the end of the week we enjoyed a banquet where awards were given out for the week.  Miss Hazel was the head cook, and could she cook!  We never went hungry.  The dining hall (that’s what it’s called now) was called the mess hall then.  Peggy reminded me of the songs that we sang from table to table after the meal…”What did Delaware, boys?”  She wore a “New Jersey.”  “What did Mississipp, boys?”  “She sipped a Minnesota.”

After the first year of camp, we could do correspondence courses to earn our next two weeks of camp, and we five did do that.  After that, some of us worked in the kitchen, became junior counselors, then senior counselors.  I worked there a couple of summers during college, and then had the opportunity to be missionary speaker one summer.

We hold many good memories from those days.  That camp director who was not even 30 when we when we first, went just had her 83rd birthday.  Peggy and I stopped and picked her up in Lakeland and took her with us for the afternoon at camp.  More about all this on another day…

Happy Valentines Day

Happy Valentine’s Day! My friend over at Melange asked people to write about someone in their lives who loves you unconditionally. My husband, Don, was one of those people. We had a whirlwind romance…I had been teaching missionary kids in Haiti. He had been in Vietnam, and when he got discharged from the Air Force, went to work for a small airline in New York. That airline went belly-up, and some of his parents’ friends said to him, “Why don’t you go to Florida? You can live in our mobile home and look for work there.

He came to Florida in 1970, went to work for Tropicana in the feed mill and eventually learned the electrical trade. He became a member of the church that I was from, and when I came home during the summers to visit my mother, I noticed this tall man who had become active in the church. I can home from Haiti in 1972 to visit churches and friends who had supported me and to go to Europe to study French for three months.

Just before I left for Europe on the day after Christmas 1972, we talked a little bit. We both had sung in the Christmas cantata. I sent him a postcard from England, and then we began corresponding during the three months that I was in Europe. To make a long story short, I came home from Europe April 12, and we got married May 12. Yes, you can put a wedding together in less than a month.

We missed celebrating our 29th anniversary by two weeks. On April 30, 2002, my valentine was killed in an accident. He was in his big work truck. (I had often prayed that he would not become preoccupied with his next job and hurt someone else.) On his way to a job, an elderly driver made a left turn in front of him. He did his best to avoid hitting her, his truck overturned, and he was in the presence of the Lord.

Four years later, it still hurts. It is easy to say with the mouth that God makes no mistakes…God is good all the time. And I know that is true…He is the great I AM, and He knows my hurts.

For you who have that dear one, hold them close and don’t fail to tell them that you love them and appreciate them. I never dreamed that morning when he left for work that I’d never see him again. Thanks for listening to my heart.

Ryland

Almost every morning when I don't have another obligation, I meet a friend at Bob Evans Restaurant. Marlene and I worked together at our elementary school. She kept the school going as head secretary...I was just a teacher. :-)
We retired about the same time. I retired in 1999 when the school board offered an early out. She followed the next year under the same program. Marlene's youngest daughter has three children who are all now in school. This past fall she began taking care of a baby for a young couple. The mother works with Marlene's daughter at the Eye Center downtown. When the baby was just a couple of months old, she had to have open heart surgery to repair a couple of holes in her heart. She was in All Children's Hospital in St. Petersburg for a while, and it was after that that Marlene began to take care of her. Those of us who have seen her regularly are just so thrilled to see this little girl grow and flourish. Ultrasounds had not shown these defects.

Two other little girls were born last year. Their parents knew before they were born that they would not live very long. Both little girls had chromosomal disorders. The doctors of the parents here in our town did not encourage them to bond with the baby or to bring the children to visit. When the baby was born, they did bond, and the children did come to visit. Then the parents said, "We want to take her home." The doctors said that if she could be weaned off the respirator, they could bring her home, and they did. The said that when she came home, she was so content, as though she knew right where she was. The dear little girl lived for about two weeks after she came home to be with her parents and her sisters and brother. The other little girl was born in New York State. Her mom and dad, a young pastor and his wife, also desired to bring their baby home, and they were able to. She did not live nearly as long, but the comment was made that she too seemed to know when she was brought home. At the memorial service for the little girl here in Bradenton, we were able to see by DVD her short life, and the last sounds we heard were her lusty cries. At the end of both services of these children, balloons were released toward heaven. Both little girls had been named by their parents before they were born so that we could know them and pray for them. I don't know what it must be like to lose a child at any age. I lost my dear husband unexpectedly in 2002 in a terrible accident, and I know how that is. I do know that God knows all about it, and He is the God of all comfort for those who sorrow.

A Successful Show

A Successful Show

I determined today to blog before reading anyone else’s.  I’m constantly amazed at some people’s blogs.  They’re incredible.  One, in particular, has become my favorite.  She writes about her daughter, her cats, her dog, and posts incredible photos with appropriate literature selections.  Her own writing is so well done.  If I knew how to put links in my own blog, she would be at the top of the list.  I’ve read the directions and tried, but I haven’t been successful yet.

Last Saturday, our local Sweet Adelines group, the Magic of Manatee had its annual show.  A whole year’s worth of work culminates in that activity.  We spend the year learning new music and choreography and spend the first Saturday of every February entertaining about 1600 people who come to our performances.  

For those who don’t know, Sweet Adelines is an international organization that promotes singing in “barbershop style.”  Our group is approaching its 50th anniversary as a chapter.
I sang with the group when my children were in elementary school and junior high, but then I became ill and didn’t have the stamina for it.  After I felt better, David was busy with baseball and basketball, and that took precedence.  After April 30, 2002, when Don was taken in an accident, my life changed a lot.  Someone from the group asked me one day how I was doing, and I said that days were pretty much the same as ever, but nights were difficult.  She said to me, “I know just the place for you.”  I told her that I had been thinking about coming back to chorus.  I did, and that has been probably the best thing that I have done since Don died.  We practice one night a week, sing out in the community, and several of us get together on Saturdays to see a movie and have dinner together.  Our group is one that cares for each other, and that means so much to me.

At our show, we not only sing, but we have a guest quartet.  This year we had a group called The Humdingers.  They go by another name in a place in Orlando…they can be found at any time on Main Street.  They were so entertaining…after the show we have an afterglow where we let it all hang out.  They did for us their act that they did while we were backstage.  They were full of corn…funny guys…just lots of fun.

Now we get ready for regional competition which takes place in Orland the end of April.  We will present two songs, one ballad and one uptune.  So after this evening of letting our hair down a little bit and enjoying a video of our show, we’ll begin working hard again.  

Lunch with the girls

Last Saturday some girls from my high school class got together for lunch. This has become an occasion over the past few years. There were only six seven of us there. Sometimes we've had as many as twenty. When I started this blog, I intended to chronicle my life for my children to have some more knowledge of what it was like growing up when I was young, and I've wandered from that, but hopefully today, I'll get back to my first purpose.

One of the ladies there is known fondly to us all as Joey. Her mother was my Brownie leader. Now that goes back a long way...to second grade, I think. There was a troop of us who started out in Brownies together and went all the way through high school as Girl Scouts. Some of the girls in high school became mariner Scouts. I dropped out before that.

What I want to say is that many strong ties were made that remain to this day. We went in diverse paths after high school, but some have found their way back to Bradenton to live. Now, many are beginning to look elsewhere as the cost to live here continues to rise.

It won't be long before we celebrate our 50th class reunion (class of '59.) I used to think that only old people graduated from high school that long ago. But I was wrong.

We girls in Brownies all went to Ballard School, which was the school in Bradenton. There were some other schools in Manatee County, but I don't think I was even aware of them until I got to junior high and began to meet kids from those schools.

At Ballard, we mostly moved from grade to grade together, because we were grouped according to our last names alphabetically. In fourth grade, a new school was built not too far from my parents' house, and the kids that were going to go to that school were moved to a clasroom together, so that when the school construction was finished, they could move in without interrupting the other classes.

Jan. 29...I started this a few days ago, and I've lost my train of thought, or I don't remember where I was going with it, so I'll close this for now. These lunches have been so important in my life, reconnecting with friends from long ago. Bradenton used to be a small town where everyone knew everyone else. It has grown so in the last few years, and I used to say that the hometown feeling had disappeared. When Don died, the hometown was all there. Many of these girls and their famiies were at his service. The hometown is still there, one just has to look a little harder for it sometimes.

A true role model

I want to write about someone today who has proven what it is to be a Christian in word and deed in every aspect of his life. I had never heard of Tony Dungy before he became the head coach of the Tampa Bay Buccaneers. He came to Tampa Bay and turned around a team that had had many losing seasons. He had a losing season his first year, but he encouraged the owners to give him time. The next year there was a turnaround...especially in defense. The team finally won a league championship, but they never made it to the Super Bowl under Coach Dungy.

After failing to take the team to the Super Bowl, the owners began looking elsewhere for a coach, and they were very blatant about it. While he was winning the division title, the managers were talking with another man, and he was even lining up staff. The owners fired Tony Dungy, and six days later he became the coach of the Indianapolis Colts. During all the ugly time, he conducted himself as a gentleman and a Christian. His comment about his firing was...they hired me and opened the door.

If anyone reads about sports at all, he knows what the Colts have done this year. At Christmas time one of the worst things that could happen to a family, happened to the Dungy family. Their oldest son was found dead in his apartment inTampa. The world watched as this man and his family came to Tampa to mourn for and bury their son. The public was invited to the visitation. The paper stated that 2,000 came to the f uneral home to express their condolences. The next day at the funeral, nearly 2,000 were at the church to support the family.

One of the Bucs said that he had been raised without a father, and he had learned from Tony Dungy how to be a dad...what a coach! Several said that if there was anyone that they wanted to pattern their life after, it was Tony Dungy.

After the service for his son, Tony spoke to the public, and he affirmed what we as Christians know. We are apart for a while, but one day in His time, we'll be reunited. What comfort! We truly do not sorrow as those who have no hope, but our hope is in God

I heard him speak once at a Success Seminar. I had gone to it because I wanted to hear Zig Ziglar speak, but Tony Dungy was there also. He spoke about succes and said that if we never win a Super Bowl in Tampa, we will have succeeded if we have made a difference in the communtiy. He then spoke about three coaches. He spoke of two football coaches, one in Minnesota, and one in Pittsburgh, and then he spoke of his mother, who was his greatest coach. He said that she taught him Proverbs 3:5,6. "Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not to thine own understanding. In all thy ways, acknowledge Him, and He shall direct Thy paths.

When you read this, take a moment to pray for Tony Dungy and his family.

I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas---not at all.

Here it is December 5 already. When I started blogging, I thought I'd write often, and I find that time slips by. As another blogger said recently, he finds himself going from link to link, finding the most interesting people. That has happened to me recently. I came across a blog from a lady who lost her husband in an accident. That stuck a very familiar chord, and I left a comment on her blog. After I had done that, I read further and found that her husband had perished in the plane that hit the Pentagon. She was left with two little girls.

I'm finding that trying to return to normal after such an experience is a difficult thing. Nothing is normal anymore. One would think that the further one is removed from a tragedy, that it would get easier. In ways it does, but that deep hurt is always there, you just don't let people know about it, because they feel that after all, you should be over it by now.

I've written a Christmas letter...really just an annual report about the family. I printed it on pretty paper, and then when I reread it, I had mentioned nothing of Christmas. Bah, humbug! I must do an addendum to let people know that I do really rejoice in the Christmas season. Since I've had problems with my eyes, I don't read as much as I used to, but one book that I've read this year is a book called Girl Meets God written by Lauren Winner. What a wonderful testimony of a young Jewish woman, who goes to Columbia University because she knew there would be a large Jewish population there. In a bookstore she picks up one of the Mitford Series, reads it, becomes interested in Christianity, and comes to know the Lord. Her book is basically a journal of her journey, but she makes some wonderful statements about Advent.

She writes: "The calendar tells us that this all culminates on December 25, but really the whole season slouches toward Easter. Jesus became incarnate now, in the manger of Bethlehem, but if His incarnateness is meant to make Him more relatable to us, if we are meant to have better access to God because our God has a body like we have, if we relate to Him better because He knows what it is like to weep and throw up and be tempted and suffer, then the Incarnation that starts on Christmas isn't finished until Good Friday. And the miracles that start in the strange inexplicable Virgin Birth aren't finished until the Resurrection.....Even his birthplace takes us to the Last Supper: Jesus, the Bread of Life, is born in Bethlehem, bet lechem, "house of bread," and at the Last Supper, He will break bread for us, and then on the cross He will break His body. Nothing in Scripture, even the names of birthplace towns, is coincidence."

Our choir sang yesterday a song called, "Pieta," a song about Mary cradling the baby Jesus and singing her lullaby and then after He was taken down from the cross, cradling Him again and singing...we speak the phrases "Jesus is the Reason for the Season," and "Born to Die." Does that really strike a chord.

Having been raised in church and being around Christians all my life, I know I've taken a lot for granted. I love Ms. Winner's book becasue she has taken nothing for granted but has studied her Judaism, has studied Christianity, and God has captivated her heart.

One of the events that became a tradition with my husband and me early in our marriage was to go to DisneyWorld during the Christmas season for the Candlelight procession and reading of the Christmas story...a wonderful experience. A mass choir made up of high school and college choirs from around Florida gathered, proceeded down Main Street, and amassed in the train station for the telling of the Christmas story. The narration is interspersed with beautiful Christmas music...from "Lo, How a Rose E'er Blooming" to the "Hallelujah Chorus." It is awonderful experience.

We're planning to go again this year...for the first time in a long time. I'm so looking forward to going again and remembering. I thank God for the wonderful memories.

I've rambled a bit, but I do enjoy this means of expressing my thoughts.

A very joyous Christmas to any who happen to read this.

We Left Lacoochee...

In my last blog about Lacoochee, I stated that I remember hearing my parents say that after the war they were going to leave Lacoochee. I was almost four, but I can remember the honking of horns and crying "The war is over!" in the summer of 1945. Well, we did...all the way to Bradenton, which was a sleepy little town on the west coast of Florida south of Tampa, and that is where my school life began.

We arrived in Bradenton one month before I turned four. My parents bought a restaurant, called the Open Door Restaurant. One of our best family friends in my later years was a man who had come back from serving overseas in the war and who frequented the restaurant.

My parents bought a little house on 34th Street West in Bradenton. There was our house, the house across the street, and one down the block. One of my friends not too long ago said that I really did live out of town, and looking back, I guess that it was. There was nothing west of our house until you got out to 75th Street, where Palma Sola Park is. And there was old Palma Sola in northwest Bradenton. Sixty years later, all that space has been packed with homes and shopping centers.

When we moved to Bradenton, both my parents were working at the restaurant, and I went to the Manatee County Nursery School. How I cried for my mother! My heart hurts today when I see little ones being separated from their parents, and they cry as though their hearts would break. It must have been because of the abrupt change that had come into my life that I felt this sadness.

The winter home of the Ringling Brothers circus was in Sarasota, and since we were so close, I remember going there and enjoying the clowns, the animals, and the circus acts under the big top. I got a big balloon once, and when we got back to the restaurant, the balloon burst right behind me. I remember to this day being hysterical and almost inconsolable. To this day a blown-up balloon almost makes me sick. I don't like to be close to them!

After that year, my parents must have decided that the restaurant business was too much for them, so they sold it and went to work for someone else.