My Salesman

"A dollar." "Nope, I said 10 and a hug." That was the bargaining going on at my house last night. I had one of those sudden irresistable urges for junk food, sweet and chocolately preferrably. And since I was the last to do any grocery shopping, of course there was nothing unhealthy in the house (I love it when Brian goes to the grocery store, tasty junk without the guilt). Alex, bless his heart, hoardes his candy. I kid you not, he just recently gave his little sister his Halloween left overs. We have the worst ant problems in his room every spring from his candy stashes. Anyways, I just happened to know he had a plastic Valentines heart full of Reeses Pieces in his room (a gift from me). So I begged and pleaded to have them. A dollar just wouldn't do- he's quite the salesman. And so it went. "Buck twenty-five." "What's a buck Dad?" "Oh...nope" (and he gives that big grin of course). "There is no way I'm giving you ten dollars for a package of candy." He's ignoring me, supposedly interested in the iCarly on TV he has already seen countless times. So Alex then decides to have a snack and goes and gets them for himself. Then he cheekily hands them to me to open for him and proceeds to plop himself on the couch and gorge. All the while Ashten, bless her heart, is trying to hunt down any spare leftovers in her Valentine purse to give me because she is feeling sorry for me. She did manage to find 4 or so-who knows from where- of which I was then forced to choke down or else I'd hurt her feelings. But of course that made Alex feel guilty, so I did manage to wind up with a whole two or three from him. And of course I got the hug. And then he snuggled up in the recliner with me till bedtime. Guilt perhaps? Or just feeling good after having some fun at Mom's expense. Where am I going with this story?...I have no idea. But we certainly had a good time with it.

Conviction

After reading a few posts from fellow bloggers, I must say I have felt convicted the past few days. I hadn't realized just how tuned in to self I had become. Brian and I are very fortunate. We both have jobs, which says a lot in our present economy. Not only that, I am lucky enough to only work part-time. And yet while we are in a good place financially and time wise, how much of that are we giving back to God? He put us in a position so as to do His work. Yet somewhere along the way I forgot to listen. So I mentioned last night that after reading some blogs that I really felt convicted to give back more. Brian agreed, and we decided to just keep our eyes open and we would know what to do. And of course it happened. I got a forwarded text today from a friend. A lady from a neighboring town has been diagnosed with cancer and some people are going to have a benefit dinner for her. At first when I read the name it didn't occur to me. But it just kept bugging me, and after a few hours I realized I had indeed met this lady one time a few years ago at a volunteer function. Isn't it awesome how God works? Just by simply opening my heart and listening, God showed me He had been patiently waiting for me to come back.

Getting it Right

Well, we made it. It was a beautiful service. A little slick and treacherous at the gravesite, but I think Bonnie would have been pleased with everything. The preacher asked us to remember the last thing Bonnie said to us. The first thing I heard from the crowd was "Love ya." He also talked about how much she loved people and what a positive impact she made on those around her. And I sat there thinking-what it would be like when it was my turn up there. What would people remember me for? Would they remember me fondly? Will I have really made a difference in the lives around me? Would I have any regrets about how I lived my life and how I treated those around me? I know I truly have found my calling in my work. I followed where God wanted me to and went against my own thoughts and better judgement and by doing so He has definitely used me to touched the lives of others. But what about everything else? Isn't that really why we are here? Not to serve ourselves, but to serve God and by doing so to have a positive impact on those He puts in our path. Am I making the most of every moment? I don't want to look back and see all of the things I did wrong and opportunities I missed. I want to feel like I really made a difference. And there is really only one way we can all make sure of that. Follow where God is leading you, without hesitation. Listen to what He is whispering in your heart. Take the time to notice those around you and above all else, learn to forgive as He forgave you. Love is patient, love is kind. It does not boast, nor is it rude. Love is not proud, and love always trusts. And as the story goes, when there were only one set of prints in the sand, it was then that He carried you.

Getting By

I've been getting lots of phone calls and texts asking how me and my dad are doing. For me, ok I suppose. Dad is hanging in there. I remember reading one of those list emails from a friend and under where it asked what was your biggest fear she answered sitting in front at a funeral. I remember thinking at the time how I agreed with that. Well, here it is, come to pass. This is the first time I've really been in that seat. I've lost family members in the past, including my grandpa who practically raised me. But this is so very different. Then it was my mom and aunts and uncles stepping in to take care of things, I was still considered a kid. I went with Dad to make the arrangements the day we lost Bonnie, helping him make all of those horrible decisions that have to be made for funerals, clueless but muddling through. Dad calls at least once every few hours, telling me so and so called, or that he is going over to so and so's house for awhile. He is cleaning out everything, deciding who to give her mountains of jewelry and Fenton glass that she loved so to, keeping his mind occupied. I've been going over and helping him figure out finances, balance the checkbook, destroy her meds, taking him meals. Last night I made dinner and Brian, the kids and I took it out to eat with him. My brother and his wife and kids were already there, and that was a nice surprise. And I thought how sad it was that we never did something so simple as that when Bonnie was here. She would have loved the kids running around everywhere. Everyone was always so busy with their own lives. And as we left I thought about how quiet it must have seemed to him with everyone gone. I had no sooner than walked in my front door and he had called just to let me know he was going to bed. Tomorrow is the viewing, Monday, the funeral. Many of Brian's and my friends who knew her through us, along with many of my family from my mom's side, along with Brian's that spent time with Bonnie at our kids' birthday parties and such. It is amazing how we bring people to one another in our small circles of life, people that would otherwise never know one another. So many lives are touched in the smallest of ways. We will get through tomorrow and Monday with the help of all of those people. And Dad will adjust to this new way of living in time. For now though, it's getting through one moment at a time, learning all over again how to go it alone.

Bonnie

I lost my stepmom yesterday morning. She died in her sleep. My dad is an early riser and woke up around 4 to find her looking peacefully asleep on the couch. So I got yet another of those dreaded early morning calls. I got that first one back in December. Dad had a heart attack on Christmas Eve morning, and we nearly lost him. But after all of her worrying about him over the past month, we instead lost her. They got married a month or so before I did. I actually knew her before then. She used to work with a few of my closest teenage friends at the grocery store at the bottom of my hill. She liked to mother all of us and worry over our adventures and get all of our gossip. Drove us crazy like most adults do when you are a teen. She was an interesting lady. Always full of pep, loved-loved-to talk, never stopped talking, -she could simply wear you out-and loved people. Never met a stranger. She could always trace herself back to being related to you somehow. I swear she knew everyone in a 50 mile radius. Everyone's mamaw, or mom, or nana. She was always on the go, didn't look her age-she had just turned 71 in January. Dad's house is so quiet now. He's lost, not eating or sleeping, can't slow down. He has actually lost two wives now. Plenty of people stopping by to keep him company, but yet I can sit and look at him among all those people and see how alone he really is. I don't think most of us can begin to realize what that must be like. All of the little things that happen in the course of the day, and no one to share them with. Just having that someone close by, someone who is a part of you, your biggest support. The one you can trust to always be there when no one else is. The one who really gets who you are. The smallest things we take for granted that happen daily-getting ready for bed, sharing a meal, no one to share the worries with. I came home yesterday evening from his house and was instantly greeted with the blaring TV, lights, smells of food cooking, kids going 100 miles a minute, stuff everywhere to trip over-and I was so very thankful. And I walked up to my wonderful husband and laid my head on his shoulder and thanked God for every moment I've had with him and prayed for millions more. Don't forget let the people you care about know just how much you do care, and do it often. It's amazing how fast it can all change, and then it is too late. What I wouldn't give for just one more visit.

"Stupid" Nurses

My grandma was sick over Christmas and ended up in the hospital. When she came home she found she had developed pressure sores. Home health has been working with them, but one has stalled and become chronic. She also has an area on her (diabetic) foot that looks infected and she has horrible pain in that ankle. Her home health nurses are worried and send her to her Dr. SOO... this incredibly "smart" doc tells her not only is her red, angry looking, obviously infected toe not infected, her pressure sore looks fine, and her ankle is just arthritis-oh I just love that diagnosis- and then says "but nurses don't know anything or how to do anything unless a dr. tells them how." (Oh Andrea, I know you are loving this.) Wow. Two years ago her blood sugar reached levels of over 600 and he wasn't there to help. She refused to go to the hospital so me being the "stupid" nurse that I am, ordered her some regular insulin and helped her get it down. A year before that, she developed areas under her colostomy. Her doctor didn't know how to treat them and wanted to put her in the hospital. This "stupid" nurse went and got her some Duo-Derm and helped her get them healed over the course of a few months. Why do doctors have to go on such a trip??? It is the nurses who are taking care of these people day after day. It is the nurses who are by that bedside holding hands and crying with the family. It is the nurses staying overtime at the nursing home because they are trying to care for 50+ residents at once. No, they don't have 8 years+ of training in what they do, but what they do they do well, with love. This Dr. will need the help of nurses one day. He's already older than dirt. How will he feel about those nurses then when he needs help with something as simple as getting up off the toilet?

The Easy Bake

So Ashten got an Easy Bake oven for Christmas. Thought it would be great since she loves to cook. Hmm...Have you ever seen the contents of one of these things? It comes with two teeny tiny cake pans that wouldn't make enough to feed my cat. Of course it is all cooked by one eco-friendly 60 watter I suppose.. And the mixes you are supposed to buy? Not only do they not come out like the ones on the package (could be my cooking skills I suppose) but they are incredibly awful. I mean like really really bad. But Ashten likes her Easy Bake. So I get on the internet and find some cool sites that list Easy Bake recipes you can make without having to buy the budget busting wallpaper paste-like mixes. One was for brownies-my favorite thing in the whole world. Flour, cocoa, sugar, nothing complicated, all in tiny Easy Bake proportions. Yesterday Ashten decided to try it. So I am going along with the recipe and Ashten is pouring everything into our Barbie-sized mixing bowl. Then we get to baking powder. Whoops. I had forgotten I had thrown my 10 year old can out after my last pan of cornbread turned out thin enough to see through..well almost. We are half way through getting the stuff in the bowl, and Ashten is really excited about this so I decide with such tiny proportions we really don't need the baking powder. Big mistake. You know that texture persimmon pudding has. Yeah, that was our brownie. It is still in the fridge, yet to be eaten by anyone in my house. That doesn't happen around here often, food can magically disappear in seconds from my fridge. Baking powder is now on my shopping list, along with a box of cake mix. The directions on the website said you could just add water for that recipe:)

God's Question to Job

We go through periods of peace in our personal lives. Often times during those periods of peace we find ourselves going through the motions of our faith. Everything is going good, so sometimes the prayers become more routine, becoming less about the relationship and more about the duty. However, we also know God puts us through trying times. And sometimes there is that little niggle in the back of the mind, "I know the trial's coming," and we wonder what is in store. Of course it is coming, God wants us to grow in our faith. It is during those trials when we get the closest to God, when grow the most.
In the book of job, God allows Satan to put Job through incredible grief and torment. His friends and family ridicule Job, urge him to turn away from God, blame Job for his own afflictions. But God allows Satan's attack because He knows Job's pure heart. Yet God desires Job to grow in his already immense faith, in his personal relationship with God. During the story, Job eventually cries out in his anguish, desiring to know God. And there he has his revelation. He finds God present in his being, from within. Not One unreachable and uncaring, but right there with him, in a way that is unfathomable. Job realizes lasting faith is not blind, it is responsible by paying attention, it desires to learn more, it isn't stagnant, but grows in and by stewardship. It is approachable companionship. Job realizes that living life well doesn't come by the absence of problems, but by "knowing thyself," by knowing God is within. And then Job answers the question God has put forth to him by way of Job's trials. "I have heard You by the hearing of the ear, now my eye sees You."

My Answer

I received this as a forwarded email this evening from a friend. As far as I know, she has never read my blog. I don't know who wrote it, but I know who to thank for getting it to me:) Nothing in the world like knowing you are being heard.

I envy Kevin. My brother Kevin thinks God lives under his bed. At least that’s what I heard him say one night…
He was praying out loud in his dark bedroom, and I stopped to listen, “Are you there, God?” he said. “Where are you? Oh, I see. Under the bed.”
I giggled softly and tiptoed off to my own room. Kevin’s unique perspectives are often a source of amusement. But that night something else lingered long after the humor. I realized for the first time the very different world Kevin lives in.
He was born 30 years ago, mentally disabled as a result of difficulties during labor. Apart from his size (he’s 6 foot 2); there are few ways in which he is an adult.
He reasons and communicates with the capabilities of a 7 year old, and he always will. He will probably always believe that God lives under his bed, and that airplanes stay up in the sky because angels carry them.
I remember wondering if Kevin realizes he is different. Is he ever dissatisfied with his monotonous life? Up before dawn each day, off to work at a workshop for the disabled, home to walk our cocker spaniel, return to eat his favorite macaroni and cheese for dinner, and later to bed.
The only variation in the entire scheme is laundry, when he hovers excitedly over the washing machine like a mother with her newborn child. He does not seem dissatisfied.
He lopes out to the bus every morning at 7:05, eager for a day of simple work.
He wrings his hands excitedly while the water boils on the stove before dinner, and he stays up late twice a week to gather our dirty laundry for his next day’s laundry chores.
And Saturdays-Oh the bliss of Saturdays! That’s the day my Dad takes Kevin to the airport to have a soft drink, watch the planes land and speculate loudly on the destination of each passenger inside. “That one’s goin’ to Chi-car-go!” Kevin shouts as he claps his hands.
His anticipation is so great he can hardly sleep on Friday nights.
And so goes his world of daily rituals and weekend field trips. He doesn’t know what it means to be discontent. His life is simple.
He will never know the entanglements of wealth or power, and he does not care what brand of clothing he wears or what kind of food he eats. His needs have always been met, and he never worries that one day they may not be.
His hands are diligent. Kevin is never so happy as when he is working. When he unloads the dishwasher or vacuums the carpet, his heart is completely in it.
He does not shrink from a job when it is begun, and he does not leave a job until it is finished. But when his tasks are done, Kevin knows how to relax.
He is not obsessed with his work or the work of others. His heart is pure.
He still believes everyone tells the truth, promises must be kept, and when you are wrong, you apologize instead of argue.
Free from pride and unconcerned with appearances, Kevin is not afraid to cry when he is hurt, angry or sorry. He is always transparent, always sincere, and he trusts God.
Not confined by intellectual reasoning, when he comes to Christ, he comes as a child. Kevin seems to know God- to really be friends with him in a way that is difficult for an “educated” person to grasp. God seems like his closest companion.
In my moments of doubt and frustrations with my Christianity, I envy the security Kevin has in his simple faith. It is then that I am most willing to admit that he has some divine knowledge that rises above my mortal questions.
It is than I realize that perhaps he is not the one with the handicap…I am. My obligations, my fear, my pride, my circumstances-they all become disabilities when I do not trust them to God’s care.
Who knows if Kevin comprehends things I can never learn? After all, he has spent his whole life in that kind of innocence, praying after dark and soaking up the goodness and love of God.
And one day, when the mysteries of heaven are opened, and we are all amazed at how close God really is to our hearts, I’ll realize that God heard the simple prayers of a boy who believed that God lived under his bed.
Kevin won’t be surprised at all!!
When you receive this, say a prayer. That’s all you have to do. There is nothing attached.
Just send this to some special people. Prayer is one of the best free gifts we receive. There is no cost, but a lot of reward.
TODAY MAY YOU FIND PEACE. MAY YOU TRUST GOD THAT YOU ARE RIGHT WHERE YOU NEED TO BE AND FRIENDS ARE ANGELS WHO LIFT US TO OUR FEED WHEN OUR WINGS HAVE TROUBLE REMEMBERING HOW TO FLY.

A Moment's Thought, An Eternal Decision

Where has my spirituality gone? I've stopped going to church, I'm not reading my Bible, I don't pray all that often. After I went on the Emmaus walk years back things were awesome. For about a year I felt incredibly close in my relationship with God. Then I fell away. Here and there I've promised myself to do better, but it has never lasted long. I used to look forward to going to church, now I can make a million excuses every Sunday. Don't get me wrong, I haven't given up my Christianity. I know He's there with me, I pray for others needs, but I seem to have forgotten I need to grow personally in my faith. I've put God up on that shelf I suppose. I've been in a really good place in my life, so I guess I've felt like I haven't needed Him. And in my selfishness I haven't been thanking Him for all He has given me. I can look back and see for the most part I've went to God only when I couldn't do it myself. It isn't just me I don't think. People I've looked up to for their faith are having troubles in their walk too. Maybe not for the same reasons, but I hear them say they can't seem to get themselves to church, etc. These are people who in the past have been incredibly strong in their faith. So what is really going on? Are we really so busy and self-absorbed we just can't find that extra minute? Are we all so "perfect and capable" that we don't need Him? Or are we all so disillusioned by today's society and disappointed and confused about where this world seems to be going? Many I talk to seem to be questioning so many things about their faith. With our world, isn't now the time to really be looking to Him? Isn't He the One that loves each of us more than any mere human possibly could? Doesn't that thought make you just want to get on your knees?

Finding Your Place

http://www.onetruemedia.com/my_shared?z=35dbf38d9fa95d3239fcff&utm_source=otm&utm_medium=text_url

We tried basketball. We do baseball, but not too seriously. Just not really into sports. Didn't like 4-H. Cubscouts is good, but probably mostly because Mom and Dad are the Den Leaders. So what do you do that sets you apart just a bit and gives you that much needed 'tween confidence? Well, Alex found it in guitar. Didn't think he would ever take it seriously. We bought the Wal-Mart cheapie last year and promised lessons. If he stuck with it, we promised a better guitar the next year. The first few months were rough. Then about half-way through the year, he had some sort of breakthrough and began learning songs faster than his teacher could teach. He is a star pupil now in his second year. He gets asked to play at church and school, though Mom and Dad ask him to play in his room most nights. I'm proud of course. I can see the difference it has made in him. His idol is now the band Green Day and he lives and breathes music most days. It is great to see he has found his niche. I wish I had had that at his age. I wish all kids at that age could find that one thing that just does it for them. As you can see, Alex definitely has that, and he got that better guitar.

The Meanest Mom

Seven snow days is just too long to be basically stuck at home with the kids. We have a pretty close-knit group around here, but this is just too close. This morning I talk my non-milk loving daughter into drinking just a little of the nasty white stuff. She informed me that it wasn't the kind of milk she liked...whatever that means. I then pick up her cup, make a comment that she had at least drank it, to which she replied, "yeah, I did it so I wouldn't get yelled at." Ouch. Alex then gets out of bed and I tell him he can wait to get wood in (part of his getting allowance chores) because it is too cold. He replies, "yeah, but you said last night I couldn't do anything else till I got some wood in today." Man. Granted, he has put this off for the past three days because the world of Ratchet and Clank on his new PSP just has to be saved (of which I quietly chipped in an extra $30 at the counter so he could get the bundle). But to hear my kids tell it, I'm quite a grouchy mom. So now I'm wondering-am I always this "mean" or is it just a snow-induced state that will amazingly pass with the first hint of green? They never say things like this to their dad. Of course he is always the good guy who spends his time acting like a big kid while mom is nagging about picking up the living room and taking a bath and on and on and on. Somehow, on those rare occasions when he deems it wise to be the bad guy (I threaten him) he manages to do it very Andy Griffith style. So where is he today? At work of course. While I'm home with the kids on the seventh day of "vacation."

Well, here I am.

My first thought-man this blogging thing is gonna take way too much of my time. My second-gee, I really don't have anything interesting to talk about, who cares what I have to say. Technology and I really don't mesh anyway, maybe that is why I got away from nursing, I got tired of fighting with it all. Take this a.m. for instance, Bino calls me on my new cell (he's a newbie to the cell phone world, we have to text and pic when sitting across the room just to try it out) and I can't even answer the darn thing, I swear I tried every button, but those darn little frogs kept right on croaking and mocking me in my shame. My 5-year-old can do things with the Wii that I still can't get. And I won't even get started with my 10-year-old. My standard line is "I don't know, you'll have to get your father to figure it out. I can see the pattern, my mom is completely hopeless with any and all types of technology. She is well known for it in my family. I've just done a better job of hiding it outside of my house. I'm generation X, I'm supposed to be with it. Well, at least to those over 28 or so. And with all of my education (I'm a lifer college student) I still can't answer the darn phone. Go figure.