To God be the Glory

A good friend of mine frantically asked for prayers via FaceBook recently--something he NEVER thought he would have to do. In fact, he had gone on his annual two week holiday sabbatical from FaceBook about a week ago, so I was surprised to see him back online. Anyway, his dad had fallen, had bleeding on the brain, and the situation was dire. I have known Shaun for over 30 years; we served in the military together. Although he was quite the joker, he was no soft guy--he was a cop, in fact a cop who worked out in the missile field in the frigid North Dakota winters, and later did special ops and intel duties. Anyway, although I rarely see him, he remains one of my dearest friends from the military. Over the next 24 hours, he posted twice again, once with an update to say his dad was doing better, and then finally, the post below. Notice he is beside himself with thanks to all who prayed, but most of all, choked up over the grace and goodness of God. His first line, in all caps. says it all--GOD IS GREAT INDEED!!!!!! AMEN!!!!.

Also, recently, another friend of mine lost his best friend, Isaac Tinsely, age 30, to leukemia. This young man had his whole life in front of him...a fiance, a life he had already dedicated to bringing the lost to salvation in Jesus Christ. For over a year, friends, family, and people who had never met him prayed for him. There were fundraisers, a campaign "10sley Strong," printed on bracelets and t-shirts and posters throughout our small town in western North Carolina. He beat leukemia once, but it came back with a vengeance. His family and friends and his church were sure he would be healed. We all prayed and prayed. He had a stroke, but inexplicably started to come back from seemingly insurmountable odds. However, after two weeks of struggling to breathe on his own, to fight the cancer that had taken over his entire body, he took his final breath, and went to be at home with his Lord and Savior. This young man's friends and family, as heartbroken and shattered as they are, are all over FaceBook giving glory to God, sharing photos and memories of Isaac. His fiance wrote one of the most poignant, beautiful things I have ever read:

"Tonight my heart is selfishly shattered into a million peaces. My soulmate went to be with the Lord. He is no longer suffering or in pain. I am thankful I was able to hold him as he passed over. The last thing he got to hear was my voice telling him how much I love him. I would not change this year for anything. Isaac and I grew so close and experienced things together most people never do. A piece of my heart is forever gone but I have comfort knowing he's with the Lord."

Two situations. Same prayers. To the same God. Both prayers answered, but to our human eye and human (selfish) hearts, one answer seems like yes, the other seems like a "no." We want all our prayers to be answered like Shaun's prayers. Or do we?

God, in his infinite wisdom, created the universe. He planned out our lives before we were even born. He has numbered our days, our heartbeats, our very breaths. Everything that happens, EVERYTHING, happens to glorify the Creator, not the created. He planned it all. Before a tear drop even falls, it must go through His Hand first. In that I find comfort.

Yes, I am ecstatic for Shaun that his father is on the mend and can spend more time with his family. And I ache and mourn for Isaac's family and friends and Havyn, for the loss of that precious young man. We could drive ourselves crazy with "what ifs" and "if onlys" and wonder about how we would feel if the situations were reversed. But our God is not a capricious God. He doesn't play roulette, or flip a coin. Everything works together for His glory. His word says so.  

God's will is inscrutable, His ways are not our ways. His thoughts are not our thoughts. When I create a universe out of nothing, and breathe life into dust, maybe then I will feel qualified to question His wisdom. Until then, I am so glad God is in control.

Friend for Life

These lyrics say it all....

Friend for life, who took my pain, the cleansing flood You remain
Wash over me till I can't be seen 

Living water swallow me, deepest river wash me clean
Jesus, savior more of Thee, more of Thee
Come and ruin me with Your love, So no other is enough
Come and leave your mark on me; Jesus, more of Thee--More of Thee 

Friend for life I'll carry on through the pow'r of this flood
Let it spill over, over till I can't be seen 

Living water swallow me deepest river wash me clean 
Jesus savior more of Thee more of Thee
Come and ruin me with Your love so no other is enough
Come and leave your mark on me Jesus, more of Thee, More of Thee 

Deep is the stain inside of me, but deeper the river that washes me clean 
I've been the one who cries in the night, But you've been the friend of my life 

Living water swallow me deepest river wash me clean 
Jesus savior more of Thee more of Thee
Come and ruin me with Your love so no other is enough
Come and leave your mark on me Jesus, more of Thee, More of Thee 

*c2001 Sweather Weather Music/Rocketown Music/Word Music, Inc. (ASCAP)

Tis the season...

Yep, tis the season...for Christmas letters.  How I hate trying to summarize the past twelve months into a few simple paragraphs that will fit neatly on one side of some pretty holiday stationery, and won't bore the socks off the recipients.  Half of the people on my Christmas card list are on FaceBook and see everything that goes on in my life anyway, and the other half I either talk to often enough  them to know everything, or I hardly ever talk to them so it would take 23 pages to fill them in because I just send them that annual Christmas greeting.   I enjoy getting Christmas cards, and I admit if a Christmas letter is more than three paragraphs, or has the name of every single grandchild, pet, and vacation spot visited, I lose interest quickly.  

Maybe I should start a new trend in Christmas letters.  Like offer a reward at the very end for the first person to actually read the entire letter and follow an instruction.  You know, maybe "return this letter to claim $10 off your next meal at Ruby Tuesdays."  Or perhaps just write a bullet paper, listing each month of the year and put an event for each month, or better yet, a picture of an event that happened that month.  I could also go the religious route, and select a Scripture verse to go with each month.  And I have blogged enough this year...in two separate blogs...to be able to just link blog entries from one of them for each month.

Well, whatever I decide, you, the lucky friend or family member, will get to regale at my genuine cavalier sense of humor and love of life.  That is if I feel like using a lot of ink to print that many copies.

Or I could always look on Pinterest.   

Not

In Christ. On Facebook.

Neither Jesus nor St Paul ever used the word "Christian," yet Paul used the phrase "in Christ" over 150 times.  Over the years I have given a lot of thought and prayer to what it means to be a Christian, to be "In Christ." And I would be lying to say I haven't struggled with it, because it is a process--sanctification takes a lifetime.  

Sometimes it is easier than other times to be a Christian. Church definitely is one of those places it is easy. Also, in my car, or at home, or with fellow believers. Gets a little harder to be a Christian in the car when someone pulls in front of you and then flips you off.  It also isn't easy to quote Psalms when some 15 year old cashier is rude to you, or when your dog throws up on the good rug. And it is extremely difficult to maintain one's Christian decorum and keep pleasant thoughts when friends and family are hateful--especially sisters.  And your mom. But I must admit, the most challenging place to be a true Christian these days is not even a place at all, but it sure takes up a lot of our time...the internet.Cyberspace The web. Social media.And, while I do trust in God's omniscience, I seriously doubt Paul or any of the apostles could ever have foreseen Twitter, Instagram, or Facebook. Being on FaceBook is a nice pastime, a safe hobby, as long as I don't start taking myself or other FaceBook posts too seriously.   

I have Christian friends, and non-Christian friends, but I try to keep things on social media fairly innocuous--as much as I can, I try to stay away from the big three:  politics, money, and religion.  And, while I want to be myself, I also don't want to just put a bunch of pointless information out there either--there really is such a thing as too many cat videos. One of the most valuable lessons I've learned? Sitting on my hands is the equivalent of biting my tongue when I want to say something a little too hastily, or spout off some sarcastic witticism before I read the entire post, or before I jump to false conclusions about what someone is trying to say. There are enough devil's advocates and internet trolls lurking about cyberspace ready to pounce on a lively debate and discussion to plant seeds of discontent and hate--I don't need to add to that number. And yes, sadly, not everyone really cares about seeing all 9,752 photos of my adorable grandchildren.  

There are times I will comment on someone else's post, or deliberately read posts where the obvious objective is to stir the pot, knowing that I will definitely NOT agree with what is being discussed. There is something to be said about an intelligent banter, as long as no one starts getting offensive or shooting their mouth off too much. Sometimes I just like to sit back and read all the comments and replies and comments to the replies. Other times, all it takes is a cursory scan of two or three lines, and I hurriedly hit the page down or back key. And yes, there are subjects I will definitely not entertain thinking, reading, or discussing--not out of fear, but out of respect for God's commandments. Normally, though, the fewer obscenities, the better the grammar and spelling, the more likely a post is to keep my attention; repeated expletives really just highlight someone's small vocabulary, and while minor misspellings are understandable, the post should have some sort of sentence structure that makes sense.  

Leading up to the 2016 election, I initially tried to steer clear of posts even hinting at controversy.  Then, the more polarized the country became, it became harder to navigate social media and still remain, well, sociable. First I tried to ignore a lot of it, even resorting to "unfollowing" some of my friends because I just couldn't handle all the frenzied feeds popping up on an average day. News hoaxes. Weird links.  Suggested websites. Folks screaming at each other IN ALL CAPS.  Immediately after the election, there was great mourning by some of friends, and gleeful "i told you so" by others. None of it made me feel any better.  Some even made me really sad.  At first I commented on a few--initially, only posts that I agreed with. You know, posts celebrating conservative, Christian values. But then I noticed my Christian friends were getting dragged into arguments. And they did not always fare too well.  Trolls were jumping in on their comments. Nowhere was safe!  Now what?  I decided this is all out war! So, I updated my friends list and decided to "follow" all of them.  Even my liberal friends.  

And that is how, in a recent discussion, I repeated some clever meme I read somewhere about how lately the world seems to worry about offending anyone and everyone but God. I thought it was perfectly germane to the issue being discussed, but another participant did not understand what I meant, so I queried "?????", to which she replied with a long answer about how so-called Christians, in her recent experience, have shown more hate and less acceptance than those who do not profess to be Christians. And then she said, "with all due respect, if we offend people, then we offend God." I was in the middle of rolling my eyes, and then, I took a deep breath.  Thought about what she said--she was right.  I had used some clever little saying that I thought fit the context, trying to show how righteous I was, and how I could fit in to this conversation and still maintain my superior Christian ethics, and there it was...her simple reply...if we offend people, then we offend God.    

So many times, on social media, in the news, in personal encounters, Christians are described as two-faced, racists, bigots, misogynists, and homophobes (we are not).  The recent election, unfortunately, has equated Christianity with Trump, and somehow, being Christian now equals close-mindedness, and hatred of all things different. All the hot button topics--gay marriage, abortion, transgender bathrooms, medical marijuana, immigration, poverty, Clinton, Trump, Black Lives Matter, racial profiling--these are gut-wrenching, emotional issues, and are viewed differently by different people. But, as a Christian, being in Christ, I am united to Christ, part of Christ.  So when I view these issues, and, stepping out on a limb here, when fellow Christians view these issues, we are all viewing them as we feel Christ views them.  We forget that not everyone is using that same frame of reference, so when I as a Christian say abortion is wrong, what the rest of the world hears is "you are wrong."  And so the argument begins. Doors slam shut. The walls go up. Fists fly.  Flags get burned. Rhetoric is thrown about. Bibles are thumped.  And no one comes out any wiser...just madder. More close minded. Backs turned. Arms folded. Unfriended. And the biggest loser?  The Gospel.  

Because I forget to be In Christ, Christ-like. I stop reflecting Christ when I project my own agenda. I am commanded to love others, to love everyone. Get that board out of my own eye before I get the tweezers out to remove a splinter from my neighbor's eye.  How in the WORLD does a Christian profess or exhibit love? By listening. By understanding. With an open mind. And an open heart. The world is listening and watching us.  It is not my place to pass judgment.  Or convince.  Or convict.  But to demonstrate, through my actions and words and deeds, how even a sinner such as me (yes, me) is precious in His sight. I am still sinning. And I will keep sinning. But I am also a saint, in Christ, chosen by Him before creation. It is that miracle, that "stupendous reality" as John Piper puts it, that I should be putting across.  In person. In all I do. In all I say. And yes, on FaceBook.

Notice we are to be SALT of the world. Not the pepper. Pepper is too spicy. And it makes you sneeze.

No baggage....just love

Alex and I did not get to meet our oldest grandchildren until this year.  Long story, but suffice it to say, they had absolutely nothing to do with us not meeting them.  We met Darrin, our one and only grandson, who is 7, almost 8, and wise beyond his years, at my father-in-law's funeral in September.  Granted, not the best place or occasion to introduce yourselves as grandparents.  He was, understandably, a bit quiet. Then, in October, we drove down to the Florida panhandle for his big sister's 9th birthday party. Raina, as her name implies, is the queen of any situation.  And the birthday party was a big improvement over the funeral the previous month.  We got to know Darrin a little bit better, and of course saw Raina preside over her birthday celebrations. But we still did not really have a good connection.  

So, we do what all normal grandparents do...we went shopping at Gymboree and A Children's Place and bought lots of cool clothes, and we invited them all up for a long weekend at our home in North Carolina!  I have never seen my husband so freaking excited...he was actually accomplishing things on his Honey-Do list, he was so excited. He was helping me clean!  He even was showering and shaving!  Seriously, he was over the moon excited to reestablish ties with our daughter, and to get to know her children.  In our home.  

They arrived on a Friday night...super excited, super pumped about the long ride up here. They almost wouldn't go to sleep, they were so excited.  Over the next four days we crammed in so much activity I really have no idea where we got the time--hiking, driving on the Blue Ridge Parkway, more shopping, ice cream sundaes, cuddling humane society kittens, more hiking, playing with legos, countless games of WAR!, learning to play chess, making our own Christmas ornaments out of air-dry clay, making personal pan pizzas, playing with a new friend, watching all three Madagascars, cuddling on laps, entertaining neighbors and guests, hanging out at OP Taylor's (only the best toy store on the planet!), helping make the dogs their breakfast, and got lots and lots of hugs.  

And what amazed me most of all, was the way the names just rolled off their tongues, "Nana and Pappy"  They accepted us for who we are with no questions asked.  Unconditionally.  No explanations required.  No "where have you been for the past xxx years?"  Just love.  Smiles.  Pure adorable cuteness.  Too bad it only lasted for five years.

God's Perfect Timing

So much on my mind tonight.  Joy, sadness, and awe.  

Joy for the precious grandchildren God has blessed us with, most recently Raina and Darrin--my eyes fill with tears as the house is finally full of my husband's laughter and the children's giggles. We have waited for over 10 years for this moment, there were times, I confess, we thought it would never arrive, but God works on His schedule, not ours. And the joy is all the sweeter, because it happened when God designed it to happen.

Sadness and yet anticipation for the wonders God will work for so many friends and neighbors struggling with illnesses, with legal issues, with financial woes. Two friends are at the end of their earthly lives, their loved ones praying by their side, waiting for their God and savior to take them to their Home.  Another person, whom I have never met, is right now fighting death, as hundreds of prayer warriors entreat God to work one of His wondrous miracles, and to heal his cancer-ridden body. And two dear friends are facing emotionally exhausting legal battles, due to no fault of their own, and God holds them in His capable hands.  

And, awestruck by His perfect timing. For last night, as I was taking my granddaughter, Raina, to the store to buy a couple of things for dinner, a guy on a scooter ran off our country road into a ditch. I almost thought he was just going off-roading, it happened so fast; I stopped the car, and it took me almost a minute to see where he went!  Had we not been there right at that moment, he would never have been found. You couldn't even see him from the road for all the leaves and the bridge and the sharp curve. He was laying in the leaves, his leg all twisted in a weird way, and he was moaning.  I called my husband, then 911, and waited for the EMS to come by. Meanwhile, I tried to keep him warm with my Clemson fleece jacket, and keep him calm, and prayed. The rescue squads came, they got that young man out of the ditch, and Lord willing, he is doing okay 

So many "coincidences." So yes, I trust Him to work all things out to His glory. He's done pretty good so far.   😉

Equal Pay for Unequal Work

One of the mantras of the recent election campaign was "equal pay for equal work."   Hillary Clinton used her feminine gender to imply she was one such underpaid woman, and she promised she would champion the rest of the female workforce, by ensuring all women would receive the same pay as their male counterparts for the same work. Being a woman myself, I couldn't agree more (although being in the military, my pay was always based on gender neutral criteria such as time in service and time in grade...so I made the same as a male of the same rank, same time in service....but I digress).  

Segue to my reading and study yesterday...Matthew 20:20-28. The mother of the sons of Zebedee goes up to Jesus and boldly (arrogantly?) demands for her two sons to sit at Jesus' right and left in His kingdom. Of course Jesus goes on to speak about the last being first, and how He came to  serve, not be served. And of course, the disciples, as usual, just were way off base--they kept thinking Jesus was referring to some sort of earthly kingdom or takeover of Rome when he'd speak about His Father's Kingdom...so of course, they wanted to share in some of the spoils of that kingdom. There was much jockeying about for who's first, who's the favorite, teacher's pet, and all that. Fantastic lessons there--the first will be last, and the last will be first. Jesus rebukes them by telling James and John (and the rest of the disciples) that none of them  know what they are asking!  Can they drink His cup (bear His suffering?)  Yes, Lord!  Fine, He says...you will, but only the Father can grant who receives what reward in His kingdom. Powerful lessons.  But I needed more than this. So, as I often do,  I read the verses leading up to this, verses 1-16: the laborers in the vineyard. And this is where my study yesterday dovetails with the equal pay for equal work platform.  

Jesus likens the kingdom of heaven to a master of a house who goes out at various times of the day to hire laborers for his vineyard. The first time he finds laborers eagerly looking for work, and agrees to pay them a denarius for a day's work.  Then, every couple of hours after that, he goes to the marketplace and just sees people idly standing around, so he offers them work too, even though no one else would hire them. All day long, all the way up to an hour before sunset, the master goes out and hires folks to work in his vineyard. Well, when it came time to pay them, each laborer received the same pay....regardless of how long he worked. And when that caused some grumbling among the ones who worked all day, the master told them "you agreed to work for that amount, so take what belongs to you and don't worry what I do with my money. It is mine and I will do with as I please.  

Well, the older I get, the more I realize I wasted years not working in my Lord's vineyard. I idled my time away doing foolish things, and got sidetracked a lot, and often worried too much about earthly pay and earthly rewards.   And while I admit I have at times been jealous of someone who worked fewer hours and received better pay or more recognition, I am ever so grateful and thankful that I will receive the same pay, the same salvation, and the same reward despite doing nothing to earn it. Jesus paid the entire price, He took all the pain, and we get to share in the glory.  As for the laborers in God's kingdom?  Whether we are called early or late, praise God we receive equal pay for unequal work.

Brotherly Love

Don't you just love it when you read something really simple, and you are like, "yeah, that's right!  That is so simple! Everyone should be doing it that way!  If the whole world did that, like I do it...ahem....um....cough, cough, what? Me? Oh, I am supposed to do this too?  I thought it applied to everyone else, not me.  I thought I had this Christian stuff down already. What? Brotherly love? But I'm a woman, so wouldn't it be 'sisterly' love? LOL. ha ha....just kidding. You're not laughing, pastor.  Sigh. Okay. Let me read it again. I'll pay attention this time."

That is how I felt tonight at evening service. We had choir practice, and then we started right into our little short evening service, and did prayer requests and such, sang a couple of hymns of worship, and then Andy read two little verses out of Hebrews--two verses! I mean, what could be so consequential about two verses, 19 words really.

     Let brotherly love continue.  Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers,  for thereby some have entertained angels unawares. (Hebrews 13:1-2)

Okay, first of all, I've got to be honest (it is sort of a requirement to be honest, especially when you have a Bible open under your feet). I sometimes do not even let brotherly love start, let alone let it continue. At least not for everyone. Sometimes I just show that brotherly love towards people I like, or people I agree with, or people who believe the same way I do. It's easier like that. But I am fairly certain that is NOT what Paul (or Christ or the Holy Spirit or even my pastor) meant.   

Second, that hospitality toward strangers? Does He mean inviting people I don't know to my house? So they will know where I live? And see what I have? What if the strangers think I am just trying to impress them? What if they come back and rob me? What if I embarrass them? What if I embarrass myself? What if I cook something they are allergic to? What if they're vegans? Or diabetics? How do I invite these people? On Facebook? Phone? On the street? Text? Is there a dress code? See? These are the crazy things, aka excuses, that go through my mind. My mind is a complex, frightening thing...

So, homework this week is brotherly love towards all, and show hospitality to someone I don't know. Reflect the love of Christ

I am going to bed. I need a good night's sleep.

Losing heart

I am beyond exhausted. Not physically--well, not most of the time, anyway. But emotionally and spiritually drained. And no, I promise I will spare you the litany of the craziness and trials and sorrows we have struggled through over the past 18 months. I just begin to feel as if "things" are getting back to some semblance of normalcy, and then, from seemingly out of nowhere, BAM!  I am knocked flat on my butt. Left shaking my head and wondering what hit me. Figuratively, of course. It is as if I am in a spiritual knock down, drag out fight, a fight that has been going on for months.  

I had all kinds of excuses and reasons for this extreme state of exhaustion. And not all are "bad" either--it has just been a very, very busy year. There is the election, and now the post-election protests; forest fires burning practically over the next mountain, and no rain; friends' legal troubles and health concerns, Alex's gout attacks, all our children and grandchildren living so far away, and on top of it all, the alarming amount of hate and animosity being spewed out at fellow human beings on something so laughingly called "social" media.   Yup, these all seemed extremely plausible to me. I am extremely comfortable to wrap myself up in the mantle of these nice, cozy, convenient excuses to be, and to remain (and complain about being) exhausted.

Yes, I have been losing heart. And I have been trying to quench my thirst with whatever I can find that's convenient, and satisfy my hunger with whatever is easiest to fix or fast to eat. As for boredom, or relaxation, heck, we have the internet, wifi, smart phones, music, volunteer work, gardening, housework, and knitting. I have essential oils and can get a pedicure and maybe even a massage, or I can go for a walk in the woods. Yeah, that will do the trick, right?

Wrong. I am losing heart because, as God gently pointed out this morning, I am trying to get refreshment from earthly sources. I am embarrassed to say there are many days I check my phone before I say good morning to the Lord, or check my FaceBook notifications before I even read one verse of Scripture, and eat breakfast before I even thank God for the day! So, is it any wonder I have run out of steam, have no energy, or am losing heart?  

Praise the Lord, though, as Paul said, "So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison." 2 Cor 4:16-17

Re-new. New again. Day by day. I must resolve to do better, to put aside foolish, temporary things that do not renew me or refresh me -- at least until after I say good morning to my Creator, and spend some time in His Word, to listen quietly to Him. Because I find that when I start my day like that, I am so much less exhausted, and I have so much more energy to glorify Him in all I do.

Which is the idea anyway.

Rubbing salt in the wound

Last year I tried for three months to get my two sisters to help me with my elderly mom's care--financially, emotionally, whatever way they could. They could not, would not, Sam-I-am-I-do-not-like-green-eggs-and-ham, help out in any way.  One wanted nothing to do with her (said Mom needed 24/7 nursing care), and the other said she was through caring for Mom, and would not ever involve herself with that craziness again...that whatever I decided was "fine with her."  So, we moved her here, she got sick, then sicker, etc., etc., home healthcare, then into a nursing home, hospital, geropsychiatric unit, etc., etc., guardianship hearing. Months of pleas for help (crickets), emails and texts asking for financial assistance (silence), snail mail letter updating them on her status and asking if they wanted her dog, her belongings, or if they could help in any way, shape or form. Nada, nothing, zip.  One sister would sneak out here to Brevard when she knew we were out of town, and finally conspired with the other sister to bust Mom out of the nursing home.  They filed criminal charges against me. Dropped, unfounded. Harassed me for months.  Cyber-bullied. Sent false accusations to local businesses. Convinced my parents and nieces and nephews I made it all up, that I stole Mom's money, her dog, her things, that Mom is perfectly fine, no problem at all.

But worse than that? These same siblings who repeatedly refused to help me, who told me they did not have the time, the inclination, the heart, or the desire to assume Mom's care, who left it all up to me and my husband, who brushed off their hands and did not give us one red cent or, more importantly, one shoulder to lean on for 15 months of hell, all of the sudden are sharing care of said mother. One sister actually just left for overseas this past weekend, for six weeks, and the other sister flew up TO Nashville to BRING Mom back to Florida WITH her.  The sister who actually said "I was forced to take care of her and I will never be put in that position ever again."  And, to rub salt in the wound, my parents are flying down to see my sister in December to "help her out" after she has a minor knee procedure.  And she has friends and three grown children she can fly down for free. Really? My parents?  Who not only did not come out and see me after Mom was transferred to a nursing home, they did not want to even hear me vent about all the issues i was having...even though Alex's parents were critically ill, and I was all alone, and needed someone to talk to, to lean on. They just told me "Everyone has problems" The same parents who refused to "take sides" but knew all along my sister was planning on moving my mom out of the facility? Even though I had POA? That both sisters were working against me?  

Poor little me.  (Warning:  Metaphor avalanche ahead). I have been slapped in the face. Had the scab ripped off the wound and salt poured and rubbed in it, then lemon juice poured on it for good measure. I've turned the other cheek. People tell me to let it go.  To drop it.  To move on. To be a peacemaker. How can I when I keep getting sand kicked in my face?  I just think it is safe to go back into the damn water, and then BAM!, a shark sidles up and bites a big chunk out of my self esteem, my faith, my trust in the Lord. I am not deluding myself either...I am fully aware there are folks out there who have far worse things to deal with than a couple of Benedict Arnold sisters. In fact, I go to church with several wonderful people who are dealing with situations that would knock the breath out of many of you.  

Then it hits me. "But I say to you, Do not resist the one who is evil. But if anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also."  (Matt 5:39)  I am being completely selfish, self-centered, and self-absorbed, when I should be Christ-focused, Christ-centered, and Christ-absorbed. Okay, yeah, I know, that last one is a stretch, but it's my blog, not yours. I am seeking to be understood, instead of seeking to understand. Seeking to be accepted, not seeking to accept others. Trying to get others to see my way, instead of seeing their point of view. And most importantly, I have been forgetting that all of us are created in the image of our God--not just me, not just the people I like, or the nice people, or the folks who agree with me, or vote like me, or believe the same as me. But all people. And I am commanded by He who created me to love everyone. My neighbors  My friends. My family. My enemies. Everyone.Whether they believe me or not. Whether they like me or not. Period.  

He didn't say it would be easy.

God's pathway never is.  

Election year dilemma

Everyone has an opinion about how I should vote this year--neighbors, family, acquaintances, FaceBook "friends," the Gospel Coalition, Franklin Graham, Warren Buffet, and my local paper. People are sharing their viewpoints-- some gently, and some not so gently. And while internet and FaceBook hoaxes are not new, this election has certainly spawned some very creative ones: fake quotes, fake violence, nonexistent endorsements, and my favorite ones so far--"Obama signs an EO banning the Pledge of Allegiance in schools" and "3 critically injured after Trump supporter sets mosque on fire." Seriously. People believe this stuff. Neighbors post signs to display candidates they support, only to find those signs defaced or stolen within hours. My darling 80-year old neighbor had all his signs covered with opposition party signs, and his Trump sign ripped off the chain! And in quiet little Asheville, a local rally held by women resulted in a shoving match. Between women. I am being inundated with rhetoric, satire, jokes, breaking news, and old news, SNL, late night and TV talk shows, cable "news", FaceBook, pop-up ads, spam, bumper stickers--it's everywhere, it's relentless, it's exhausting, and it's not helpful. At all. 

Debate moderators are a joke--they argue more with the candidates than the candidates argue with each other. The issues, if there ever were any, are buried under the stinking, rotting pile of name-calling, character assassination, Wikileaks, vulgar videotaped conversations, and the ever-present, never-objective sensationalism-seeking entertainers who laughingly call themselves journalists. The candidates talk more about how the other candidate is worse than they do about themselves or their platform. Hell, does anyone even have a platform any more?They have FaceBook and Twitter and Instagram, yeah. But where do they really stand on the issues? Will they raise my taxes? Can I find a job? How do I afford healthcare? What about the rise in terrorism? What are you going to do to make our country safer? Is Russia going to start a nuclear war? What are your plans to fix our failing education system? What about racism? Those are the questions I want answered. I do not care a whit about deleted emails on Hillary's private server--really, I do not. And I don't give a rat's ass about what Trump said as he was bragging to that jerk Billy Bush. I am sick to death of Trump-ites repeating whatever litanies they are fed by Wikileaks or the media on Clinton's emails, Benghazi, or her husband's sexual escapades. As for much of the hypocritical public shaking their heads and their fingers at Trump's vulgarities, they sit in their living rooms and ogle scantily clad bodies on Dancing with the Stars, and watch Bachelors and Bachelorettes grope multiple prospective future mates on camera, or watch episodes of "insert your favorite TV show here" that have steamy, soft porn scenes and tawdry jokes and groping--on prime time TV, on practically any channel, any time of day. So please, quit telling me that you know best. I don't need anyone writing to me, or imploring me and other "sisters in Christ" to not "deceive myself" about Trump's true identity. I am not stupid. Or uninformed. I am just overhwlemed with the hypocrisy of it all--the media, the lack of true competition, the lack of readily available information, and the preponderance of misinformation that is drowning out or hiding or disguising the truth. 

So how am I to decide? Follow the herd mentality and vote down the party line? Vote the way "respected" Christian leaders are telling me to vote? Do I have to vote? Am I voting for something? Or against something? Why do we know so little about third party candidates? Do they have a chance? Does my vote really matter? Does this election really matter? "Vote your conscience." "A vote for Trump is a vote against Hillary." "Vote the lesser of two evils." "Your vote determines the future of your grandchildren." "Make America Great Again." "Stronger Together." One promises to shatter the Washington bureaucracy and shake things up. Another vies to be the first woman president of the US. Neither of them appear to be fit for office. In a country of over 300 million people, these are the only choices we have next month. I do not yet know how I will check the boxes on November 8th. Or what the outcomes will be. Or if it will matter. 

But of one thing I am sure. On November 9th, God will still be God. He already knows what I will choose. And whoever wins, He will use the person and that party for His glory, for His purpose, for His will. God is not a Democrat, or a Republican, or a man, or a woman. He does not scratch his head or raise his eyebrow at the events that have gone on, are going on, or will go on. None of this surprises Him. 

And in that, I find comfort.

Rewind

Since I recently wrote a blog entry titled "Fast Forward " I thought it only fitting to pen an entry going in the opposite direction...

I'm on a plane headed back home. My husband is most likely on the couch with a heating pad on his back, a TV remote in his hand, and a MacBook on his lap.  He'll be leaving soon to drive to Greenville to pick me up at the airport, and Lord willing we will be on our way home around midnight.  I'm missing my hubby, my dogs, my church, and my friends, but am understandably less excited about sorting through ten days worth of mail and cleaning up after three dogs and a class c bachelor. But, it's home and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Rewind to less than 12 hours ago, and I'm waking up to this little chipmunk cheeked cherub cooing and gurgling her good morning song. She greets me with the most beautiful smile and flaps her arms happily.  After a quick diaper change and a nice warm bottle, she nestles onto my chest, sucking on her fingers, and peacefully falls back to sleep. For one blissful hour I am spellbound by her scent, the sound of her breathing, and the feel of her soft warm hand clutching my shirt.  And although my back and my hip are stiff and screaming at me to move, I sit still, lest I wake this sleeping angel.  And I wouldn't wish it any other way. 

Rewind to ten days ago, and I'm standing at baggage claim at the Springfield-Branson MO airport, waiting for my bag. I feel my granddaughter's tiny fingers grasp my hair and hear my daughter's cute giggle as they "sneak up on grandma." Thus we embark on a whirlwind visit filled with smiles, card games, porch discussions, family meals, Sophie bath nights with her daddy, car rides, messy poops, laundry, and late night talks and early morning bottles. Watching my youngest daughter excel as a mother. Being invited in to the sacred inner sanctum of their family as they tuck Sophie in every night, Ben cuddling her gently and whispering in her ear as Becky sits cross-legged on the nursery floor softly reading "On The Night You Were Born."  Participating in the joy of their daily routine, and marveling at how wonderful they love each other. My daughter is grown, a wife and a mother, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Rewind to November 2006. I just got off the phone with Ben, who called me from California asking for our blessing for him to marry my baby. I couldn't make it out there in time, I said; I had not even met him yet. We said yes...they got married at the courthouse days before he deployed for 7 months to Afghanistan. Alex and I flew out a week later for Becky's college graduation, and we tried to keep her upbeat and busy.  Although we still hadn't met Ben, one look at Becky's face told us everything we needed to know--Becky was ecstatically, undeniably in love. A completely changed young woman from four months prior when she bemoaned she would never meet "the one." I was no longer first on her call list.  And we wouldn't have it any other way.

Rewind to December 1983. I'm at work as an USAF NCO, 47 weeks pregnant and beyond uncomfortable. I am staring at the wall clock, grasping a half eaten Clark bar, when the first sergeant walks in. He asks what I'm doing. I hold my finger up, breathing through pursed lips, and when I'm able to speak, I answer him.  Three minutes apart, I say.  Baby's finally coming, I manage to whisper.  He drives me across base, where I stop into OB GYN, get whisked up to the maternity ward, and 45 minutes later give birth to a beautiful, fat-cheeked 10 lb baby girl.  I'm in love with this precious creature and I promise her I will always be there for her.   We soon joined her big sister at home. And spent the next 20 plus years growing closer as a family, despite divorces, illnesses, moves far away from family, and cancer.  Looking back, I'd have it no other way.

Rewind to over 2000 years ago, and a young maiden has placed her newborn son in a roughly-hewn makeshift cradle in a barn. He is Emmanuel. Wonderful. Counselor.  Almighty God. Prince of Peace. His mother knows a spear will pierce his side and her heart, and by that act He will redeem all those called by God to be His children.  And I wouldn't have it any other way.  

And Simeon blessed them and said to Mary his mother, “Behold, this child is appointed for the fall and rising of many in Israel, and for a sign that is opposed (and a sword will pierce through your own soul also), so that thoughts from many hearts may be revealed. Luke 2:34-35

A Day with Grandma...and Poop

Well today was a busy day for us--first I climbed on Grandma and made her laugh like Ernie. You can see that video here (Ernie giggle video)  Then I ate carrots for the first time and mommy recorded the moment.  She records every moment.  Sigh, the life of a photographer's daughter.

Anyway, after a breakfast of carrots and milk, we ran a lot of errands, which meant sitting in my car seat and listening to grandma sing silly songs while mommy kept disappearing into different places and then coming back out and driving somewhere else.  We also went to the PX, which is a big building where mommies and grandmas buy things for us babies. Then we met daddy for lunch and I pooped so he could spend time with me changing my diaper.  It was stinky.  But he doesn't care because I am so cute. 

On the way home I fell asleep in the car, and Mommy put me in my crib so I could finish my nap...I finished it in 10 minutes. Since Mommy had to take one of the doggies to the doggy doctor, Grandma watched me...and fed me carrots...and played Little Rabbit Fu Fu with my stuffed animals for me. She is so silly! She makes me laugh. When Mommy came home again, we went on another car ride, this time to buy food and more things for me (of course). I fell asleep in the car again, Mommy put me in my crib when we got home, but I woke up again--this time with a diaper full of poop for Grandma. She didn't mind, either--because I am so cute. She says I am so stinking cute, but I am not sure if that means because of my poopy or what. Oh well.  I am cute.  I will just have to live with it.  

After that poopy change, Grandma fed me carrots again, then a bottle, and then we played till Daddy got home. Daddy kept trying to come get me and hold me, but Mommy had lots of chores for him to do, so he kept going back outside.  I was a little sad, but I had Grandma to play with, so it was okay. She doesn't like it when I am sad, so she does funny things to make me laugh, and she wears shorts with long strings on them--I like them. She picks me up a lot and kisses me all the time. But finally Daddy came in and played with me, and threw me up in the air and made me laugh. And made Mommy and Grandma really nervous. 

Next they ate dinner and I sat in my high chair and drank my bottle, and made funny noises for them. After dinner, Grandma and Mommy noticed something brown on my tummy, and they were confused, because I didn't have carrots--just milk. But then they saw my diaper was broken...there was poop everywhere. Mommy had to wash my high chair real good, and Daddy had to use about 10 wipes on me and then give me a long bath. I had a lot of fun. I felt much better after that big poop. I don't think they will give me carrots three times in one day again.  


All that pooping tired me out. So I went to bed. Good night Sophie fans everywhere!  See you next time!

If I could do it all again...

The past year has been hectic, to say the least.  I know, everyone has crises and problems and stress.  I get that.  So I am not singling myself out and saying "oh woe is me."  And no, I do not think my problems are any worse than yours, nor do I feel as if I don't deserve all this crap.  I am simply trying to process through it all, to put it all down in black and white, and then get over it already.  So, without further ado, presenting the past 15 months of the Ritchey household, in no certain order:

1. Drove to Nashville 4 times and moved my mom 3 times in as many months
2. Learned how to change an ileostomy 
3. Became a full time caregiver for said mother
4. Found out I was going to be a grandma again
5. Enjoyed visits from countless out of state friends
6. Almost lost my mother in law twice to two heart attacks and colon cancer
7. Did lose Alex's father after a 16-year battle with Parkinson's disease
8. Joined a wonderful gospel-centered church and made new friends
9. Took over as caregiver for my brother for a week while Dad was sick
10. Got snowed in while I was incapacitated with a serious stomach bug
11. Reconciled with our youngest daughter after 10 years
12. Spent precious time with precious grandchildren 
13. Went to Disney World for five days with three granddaughters
14. Put our RV pad up for sale 
15. Had to replace tires on my car
16. Set up a revocable trust account
17. Had my car towed to Greenville when the water pump imploded
18. Learned how to make a ballerina bun on a 4 and 6 year old
19. Orchestrated two birthday parties and two un-birthday parties
20. Dressed up as a steampunk pirate wench for a Disney Halloween Party
21. Went to a wedding in Savannah, GA
22. Went to a funeral in Tampa, FL
23. Sadly watched my daughter and her family leave for India (again)
24. Hosted a baby shower in Missouri
25. Went to San Antonio to help my best friend after the birth of her daughter
26. Attended that same little girl's 1st birthday party 
27. Refinanced our house
28. Discovered we had a colony of over 30 flying squirrels living in our attic
29. Built a playhouse with a mountain view AND a screen door
30. Took care of mom until her doctor placed her in a nursing home
31. Got accused by sisters of not having my mom's best interest at heart
32. Went to Goettafest in Cincinnati
33. Met Sophie when she was 2 weeks old, and spent 10 wonderful days there
34. Spent too much time at hospitals and emergency rooms with sick parents
35. Fell more deeply in love with my husband
36. Called 911 for the first time
37. Joined a caregiver support group
38. Filed for guardianship
39. Withdrew the motion when my sisters finally stepped up to the plate
40. Bought a kayak we have yet to use
41. Watched my normally able-bodied husband suffer crippling gout attacks
42. Volunteered several hours a week at a local SAFE thrift store
43. Joined a gym
44. Started a blog
45. Celebrated my 61st birthday and our 25th wedding anniversary
46. Added three new birds to my life list
47. Grew closer to Jesus

And, would I do it all again?

Yes.  Lord willing

And He does

No more suffering

"He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.”  Rev 21:4

My father-in-law suffered--melanoma, prostate cancer, broken bones, and Parkinson's disease. Yet he never complained. He lost the ability to keep his balance, to walk, to speak, and even to eat; at the end, he could barely even breathe. His muscles and his entire body betrayed him, gave up on him, yet he continued to fight to the very end. I watched as this quiet and gentle man, whom I loved and respected so much, wasted away to a cruel caricature of his former self. He took his last breath on August 29, 2016. And even though I know he is free from suffering, I selfishly want him back.   

Even though over the past three or four years, I helped him walk, fed him, prayed with him, and held his hands, I remember him most for how he helped me--with his humor, his strength, and his calmness. He was, as my husband said at the funeral, a rock. Always there to lean on. A quiet strength. Heaven is a better place with him there.  

And though I miss him terribly, I am so very grateful his suffering is over.  

And I look forward to the day when I can join him and that great cloud of witnesses    

 “O death, where is your victory?  O death, where is your sting?”

The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. 

 1 Cor:15:55-57