England, Covid shots, and sundry

 Hello! Yes, I know it's been a long time since I posted an entry, and because this is my blog, my thoughts and feelings...I thought I'd combine a few subjects. So, this may be long...I'm not sure. However, here we go.

As a child, my folks didn't have a lot. However, they had some unique and interesting (at least to a child) things. Like the book pictured here.

This book is why I fell in love with England...about fifty years ago! This was also the time I promised myself that one day, I'd go there. I wasn't sure how it would happen,  just that it would indeed, happen!

It's a set of books on different countries, some states...it had a small projector you used to view the furnished slides. Awesome, awesome set! 

Yes, there's been a pandemic. Yes, I have very strong opinions on the vaccine itself. Yes, I distrust it. No, it's not had enough time to be proven. Government fails us, as citizens when it requires us to do something we feel, at the very least, awkward about. 

All of that said...I am sitting here with one arm aching from having a fractured shoulder in March, and the other arm hurting from having gotten my second Covid shot yesterday. Yes, you read that correctly. I got it. I'm not happy about it. But, if I want to go to England in October, I had to get it. Because, while there, I am going to meet a dear friend of 10 years, who is older and has severe, chronic COpD. This means that if this person caught it...they would not survive. And, I cannot guarantee I wouldn't be exposed to it on the way over, so, I bit the bullet and got the jabs...because my conviction against it is not worth this person's life. Each of us has to come to their own decision about this craziness. I couldn't go to England and not meet this friend. That would be cruel. So, I am sitting here on July 4th, not feeling myself, and hoping this is all the symptoms I'm going to have. 

Not that I am a shining example of any virtue...but this is what love does. If you look up 1 Corinthians, chapter 13...there's an entire chapter that tells us what love looks like. That's my guide. Not my fear of governmental control, nor of peers mocking me, but love of a friend and love of my family. Do with this information as you will. 

In the meantime, I've sent in my passport for renewal, gotten a fair idea of flight prices and paths, and started making plans for what I'll do once there. It's not going to be the trip I'd always dreamed of, but I'll be getting the chance to see at least some of the things I've always wanted to see. 

It's very...odd feeling...to be planning to fulfill an almost life long dream. I am debt free except for my home, I have cash saved up to pay for this...now is just the right time to live the dream! I acknowledge I have been blessed, in the extreme, and I am grateful and humbled that God would allow my life path at 60 to fulfill the fanciful dream of a 10 year old little girl. 

I take nothing for granted. There's not one of us who is promised their next breath, let alone tomorrow. All we have is the moment we're in. I've been very convicted about living my life selfishly for a long time. That flame gets turned down, here and now. The 10 year old inside me is literally squealing with delight. The almost 60 year old understands that this is how it was meant to be. 

My dreams, for the most part, have changed as I got older. My life course has altered several times. But, by the grace if God, I will be in England for my 60th birthday, and I couldn't be happier to be fulfilling this dream!

For the JOY of it!

 Often, I take for granted what I have, what I do, and how blessed I am. This season...this wonderful, joyous season, is a good time to reflect. On blessings. Friendships. Grace. Life itself. I've been reminded of this daily, lately. That I tend to keep asking for more, without taking in to account how much I have been given. That I have so much that I sometimes fail to truly see it. I am warm, dry, comfortable. I have income, I'm (fairly) healthy. My family is near, and also doing well. 

I know what it's like to have almost nothing. Yet here I am, not so terribly far removed from that time in my life, grasping for whatever might be in my future-instead of seeing the power of what I've been lead through, and the Source of the blessings bestowed. I walked away from my faith for several years...no, I ran. Fast. Far. Yet, the moment I'd just barely started to turn back, blessings awaited. 

This has been a tough year. In fact, I'm not sure there are really enough words to describe, for each of us, exactly what this year has been like. But, my friends...we're here. We're still walking through this, whatever it is. For me, that means I need to be more grateful. More aware of others' struggles. More giving. 

Albert Einstein said something that for me, is revolutionary. "There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is."

This famous man wasn't known as a towering example of faith...but his words cut through to the heart of things anyway. We have to choose. I'm choosing to believe that everything is a miracle. Each breath I draw. Each person I meet. Each friend I have. Each family member. A living, breathing miracle. Placed in my life for a purpose, just as I am placed in theirs. 

I have such a sense of awe as I look back over the last few years and see my journey. It's unique to me. It's part of a Master plan. I'm learning to live my life on purpose...simply for the JOY of it! My prayer is that you will feel this calling, too and follow it to the path of purpose for your life.

Another Mother's Day

For those of you who know me well, you know my mom and I have "history". At the end of the day, I am still grateful for her, and I love her. 
Wander with me, if you will for a short time, down a path it took me years to discover. That path of learning how to forgive things that sometimes seem unforgivable...until you look at them from a perspective where there is no degree of hurt, only a separation of a willful spirit from a loving God. 
The only way any of us can truly forgive someone who has wronged us, is to look to the purest example of forgiveness ever known...that of Jesus, upon the cross, pleading with the Father to "forgive them, for they know not what they do!" I promise you-nothing that's been done to you is worse than what our Savior bore as He hung there, dying so we could live. 
So today, I can say I am grateful for my journey. For the lessons I've learned and am still learning, and for the fact that while I do not deserve it, His grace extends to my faults as well. It covers...everything. It doesn't always sit well with us that something that's been done to us can be forgiven-wiped clean, as if it never happened, because we want to seek our own vengeance. We want to see the instigator fully...shall we say, compensated...? for how we've been hurt. Vengeance isn't ours to mete out, friends. It is to be left solely in the hands of the Only truly just One. When we step out of the cycle of vengeance seeking, we can walk on a brighter path that's illuminated by God's grace. 
I drove to see my mom today. Because of the times, we kept our distance. I gave her a card, a dozen yellow roses, (her faves), and told her I love her-because I do. How can I do any less than show love and mercy, as it has been shown to me by the Creator? God holds a special place in His heart for moms. We're unique. We're gifted. We're fallible. We're human. Happy Mother's Day to each of you who are mothers. If you have your mother, call her. That's all she wants, to just know you care. If you've lost your mom, my heart, and my prayers go out to you. Celebrate the fact that your mom is part of what made you uniquely you!

This is Love!

Yes, you've read through post after post of me sorting through my life, figuring things out, and looking for romantic love. If this is your first time here, welcome! While you may or may not agree with what's written, you're getting all me. My experiences, drawn from the path of the life God's set my feet upon. 
Along the way, I've discovered what love, real love is. What it costs. And it's not a guy. It's not a pet. It's God. In the form of a man, who came to earth as a baby and lived a life documented in the Bible. He died a death He didn't have to, and made a way for us to enter in to a love relationship with the Creator of the universe. 
Love isn't selfish. It's not arrogant, or rude. It doesn't demand its own way, and will hardly even notice when others do it wrong. It always believes, always trusts, always endures. Love-the kind we want deep down in our soul, never fails, and it never ends. 
This kind of love, referenced in the Bible in I Corinthians, chapter 13 sounds almost unbelievable. I believe that's because we focus so much on the fallible love that surrounds us, instead of seeking the only love that will satisfy our soul. 
Truth is truth, regardless of whether someone "believes" in it or not. For example, whether I believe gravity is true or not, if I drop something from any height, it'll fall to the ground. The truth is my friend, that whether you believe it or not,God loves you. He demonstrated His love by sacrificing His son in an unimaginable way, by sending Him to earth in the form of what He'd created, to then die by crucifixion, a most horrific form of punishment. 
Yes, there are a lot of different religions out there. Religions are man-made-his attempt to reach the divine he knows is there. What sets Christianity apart is that the one we worship died for us, and then rose again. We claim a risen Savior. One Who lived and walked among us. One Who gave up glory to willingly die, so that we could live. Not the half life, filled with emptiness and yearning, but a full, complete, dynamic life. 
This Sunday is Easter. It looks a little different this year, given the pandemic of sickness and fear we find ourselves in right now. No huge egg hunts. No annual egg roll at the White House. No family gatherings. But, we've been given time. To reflect. To reorder. To pursue. To take a moment and drink in this life, slow down enough to reorganize our priorities, and maybe come out on the other side of this with a revitalized life purpose. That purpose was born and laid in a manger two thousand years ago. Grew up, went around doing good, healing, teaching, and showing us the meaning of self sacrifice. In a world of social distancing, self quarantining, panic and fear, I offer you a look at something you may have never considered. Love, like you have never known it. Peace, when the entire world seems crazy, and hope for a future you may not have even thought about-regardless of what your life here on earth becomes. 
Easter is the pinnacle of Christianity-the bedrock on which our faith is built. Without it, the rest of the story is pretty meaningless. Jesus said in John 12:32, "And I, if I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all men unto me." In this day and age of "gender fluidity", that verse is probably going to offend some people. He's speaking of mankind as a species here, not merely speaking of gender within that species. He doesn't differentiate. Not between genders. Not between races. Not between power, or class or anything we humans might use to separate people. He draws us...all. Because we've all fallen short. Because none of us deserves this sort of grace. 
This is love. It's not based on how we look, act, or feel. God loves us from before time, and will continue to do so, regardless of whether we acknowledge that love or not. You've got the time right now to take a look at what you may have never before seen. Use it!

Obey...But at What Cost?

For months now, God's been dealing with me on the subject of obedience. It makes me squirm in my seat. I want to do anything but obey. Simply because what He's calling me to was not on my radar. I'm good at letting urgent things drown out the sound of a command to love without reservation. (Believe it or not, I have a tough time with this!)
This post might offend people. It's not going to be politically correct. It most likely won't make you feel good if you read it, because it might call you to examine yourself, as I have examined myself. I know some read just for something to do, while others read because they know and love me personally. 
I write, because God's given me an ability to put on paper what's in my heart. I write, because it's an outlet that gives me a voice-even if it's only me reading it. 
Often, as a child, I felt I had no voice. No safe place. No refuge. Then, I got married and what I thought would save me only continued the same prison-like feeling. Because I was a prisoner of my own inability to see the freedom right at hand in giving my life away. In losing it to gain what I could never lose. Obey your parents. Obey authorities. Obey your husband. Obey God. I've had thirteen years on my own to wrestle with how...and Whom...I'm going to obey. 
My life has not been perfect. Far from it, in fact. Rebellion has been my middle name and my inner goal for as long as I can remember. 
Being off work recovering from a second partial knee replacement has given me plenty of time to do some self examination. And boy, what I have seen, with the help of a couple of friends and a lot of introspective prayer, is something that looks like obedience on the outside, but still feels like the familiar rebellion on the inside. 
I don't know about you, but throughout my life I've lulled myself in to thinking I'm not doing too badly because of how I think others perceive me. A good woman. A hard worker. A quick study. Funny. Maybe a bit quirky. Independent. All of those are qualities of a decent human being. But none of those is what God looks at, because He is looking at the innermost motivations of my heart. He's looking at whether I balk at what He's led me to do, and He's looking at who I am when I am alone and no one's looking. That is when my rebellion wells up, my friends. When I think I'm being led to do something, or just in a specific direction, and I feel like it's impossible for me. It is impossible for me. Because I know this in my spirit, I run the other way, thinking I couldn't possibly have heard correctly! 
I've been blessed despite my rebellion. If you've read this blog before, you know I'm thankful for the life God's given me, and that I understand I did nothing to deserve any more grace than the next person. I've been blessed despite my rebellion. Because when my Creator looks at me...well, the closest I can come, comparison-wise is the complete love I've felt each time I've looked at any of my children. The wonder, the joy, and the love that pours out of every facet of my being for them. 
As children when they disobeyed, it hurt me...but it never diminished my love for them. That's how and why He keeps blessing. Because He loves. ME. 
I cannot hypothesize on why He doesn't make everything perfect for anyone who calls themselves Christian...I just know that His love is unfathomable. It's as deep as the ocean, and we rarely come close to plundering the breadth of what He will do if we just surrender. 
My conclusion goes back to the title of this entry...what is the cost of obedience? The answer sounds simple, yet it is not because obedience costs me everything. Every plan I have for my future. Every hope I have financially, professionally, personally. I want to see His blueprint...heck, I want to approve it before He implements it! I would need no faith if I could see and approve His plan for my life. I'd just take my red pencil, mark up the things I didn't like, and tell Him to get back to the drawing board and fix it. Me. telling Him. That's not how it's supposed to work. We live by faith, not by sight. He speaks, we listen. We...I obey...understanding that it will cost me everything. Only when I finally surrender will His plan unfold, and it will be beyond anything my finite mind could have drawn up. Because...he's God...and I...am not.
Count the cost, my friends. We're not puppets on strings He puts in weird situations to torture us in to submission. He wants our willing, unrebellious, obedience. He's going to love us, even in our rebellion. But He wants our obedience because He wants what's best for us. And...we can only get that when we stop trying to place our blueprint on top of His. 

What are You Waiting For?

This question has been bouncing around the recesses of my brain since last night. Things in my life are such that...I'm waiting. With purpose, but still, waiting. I find myself having to choose how to respond to this season of life. 
I've determined that I'm going to run with it. Use this waiting time to do some things that need doing before my second knee surgery gets here...and I can't do anything for a few weeks. I just figured, if I'm waiting...maybe you are too. We wait, as humans for all sorts of things. A job promotion, a baby's arrival, a proposal, a move, upgrades to houses, vehicles...So. Much. Waiting. I believe that waiting...is okay. Often, there's a good purpose behind it. We wait in line at amusement parks, because that ride is going to be worth standing there for an hour or more. 
Christians are told in Isaiah 40:31 to "Wait upon the Lord"....and that if we do, we'll find the rest we seek. (Penny paraphrase). So...if the Bible tells us to wait...maybe that's why so often we don't feel like waiting! Couple that with living in an instant gratification society...no wonder we don't want to wait...for anything. Maybe, just maybe...waiting builds character. Or, maybe it helps us remember not to lean on ourselves, or that we don't have to lean on ourselves. Maybe that's why waiting isn't easy when it's something you want deeply. A friend reminded me last evening that, "Anything worth having is worth waiting for." How often I've casually quoted this axiom, but not internalized it to fit to my life circumstance. Waiting can bring frustration, for sure! However, it can also bring maturity, patience, a calm spirit, and the knowledge at the end of the waiting that often times, our joy at the completion is far more...palpable than if we'd gotten that instant gratification we so crave. 
As you wait...seek. Discover and reconnect with the quietness. Go ahead...do it! What are you waiting for?!

Sometimes, You Just Have to Cry

*Preface*
I wrote this at the beginning of May this year, but I couldn't bring myself to publish it then. 



This past week has been a life microcosm for me. Happiness, relaxation, sorrow, pain...all have entered my life.
I've had a refreshing and very well timed visit with my dear friend Deb, and her wonderful parents, Eddie and Joyce. I love this family-they're like an extension of my own family. Each time I visit them, I am reminded of the rich blessings God bestows on us when we find quality friendships! 
That friendship was needed as I'd had an unexpectedly tough week. There are some new pressures at work (a whole new system coming in-but I got this, I'm sure). Death intervened in an unnervingly sad way last week, to remind me yet again how fleeting this life actually is. 
In the world of dating after the age of 50, quite often, people come and go in my life. More often than not, they stay for a very brief time, then move along, never to be heard from again. Now and then, I'll get a message from a number I don't recognize (because I've wiped it from my phone once I knew there'd be no more contact), I ask who it is, they respond, and I respond with something along the lines of..."Oh. yeah. The guy who...." They don't really stick around after that! 
Every once in a while, I've met one who's become a friend.And then, there's the one or two whom, given different timing, might have turned in to something more. Dan was one of those couple.
When we first dated, a couple years ago, he was coming off the death of his wife. I thought he needed more time to get through that process. I also didn't like how he chose to deal with it, but, he was a grown man. After a few months of dating, I bid him farewell, wished him the best of luck in his future, and went on with my life. We texted a couple of times, but nothing of any significance. He contacted me this year. It was good to hear from him. We decided that maybe we should try again, but that we should go at it slowly and carefully, taking our time. 
Things were going along, we were seeing each other, quietly, not making a big deal of it. He was attending church with me, had lunch a time or two with friends-it was a beginning. Then, he was cleaning up after dinner one night when something suddenly made me look over...just in time to see him slide down the cupboards and fall over sideways, shaking in convulsions. You see, he'd had a very serious closed head injury in August of 2018. He was having a grand mal seizure. For the first time in my life, I had to call 911. It was scary. Unnerving. I was terrified. I was on the phone with the dispatcher, and also watching this man I cared for convulsing on the kitchen floor, blood seeping from his mouth (he'd bitten his tongue severely), and totally unresponsive to any attempt to gain his attention. 
He began to come 'round in the ambulance on the way to the hospital. I'd called a couple of his children to let them know what was going on, and they kept their wits about them and told me where his wallet and keys were. I drove to the hospital, met some of his children there, and a very dear friend came and sat with me for a while. She left. We got to go back and see him. And friends, he seemed alright. He was responsive, listening to the steps they told him the process of finding out what had happened would take, and was tired, but in a decent mood.
I stayed at the hospital until 3 a.m., came home, slept a couple of hours, and went back to be there when he had a brain scan. As the day progressed, I left to run some errands. He'd gotten a bit combative and I needed a breather. He chose to check himself out of the hospital that evening, rather than stay to get the scan results the next day. He later admitted he was jonesing for a cigarette. The rest of that week, I turned my world upside down taking him to work daily (you can't drive after a grand mal for six months), and to an appointment with his regular physician that Saturday. Friends...I'm not going to lie or sugar coat it. I was angry with him for being so selfish as to not stay and get those results. His belligerence and unwillingness to see how that decision could have affected those who cared about him negatively eventually formed a breech too large to do anything but separate us. I wished him well, and prayed he wouldn't drive himself to work and back. 
About a month later, my phone rang on a Sunday afternoon. It was one of his kids...telling me he'd died. I later discovered he'd lain face down on the floor of his bedroom for days before his son walked in to find his lifeless body. Fifty-six years old. Gone. 
I stopped in to the funeral home on my way out of town for a long weekend in Florida. I'd made the plans and bought the ticket before any of this had happened. It was heartbreaking to see his kids, and not any easier to walk up to that casket and see him so still. He was not an idle guy. He was always doing something...cooking, cleaning, woodworking, playing with his cat...who knew he had so little time left? There's One Who knew-intimately. 
I tell you this heartbreaking story, not to make you cry or feel sad, but to remind you...to remind me...that this moment we're in...? It's all we have.all we're promised. And sometimes, you just have to cry.