Life's Journey

Today's Journey

2013-05-20T05:51:00.000-05:00

From My Heart: I have six blogs, each with a different objective. I opened my dashboard to post an update of my grandson on this blog. When I looked at my list of blogs, I saw the title of this one and was struck by the irony of this situation. The title and description of this blog is Life's Journey, Discussing life's twists and turns and the lessons we learn along the way.

Our son's hand next to our grandson's body.

A week ago today, our phone rang at 5:30 a.m. My husband answered and our son asked him to push speaker phone. Once on speaker phone, our son explained that he had taken his wife to the emergency room because of high blood pressure. After three hours of trying to decrease her blood pressure, the doctor made the decision to do an emergency c-section on her. Within 45 minutes our grandson was born --13 weeks premature, officially weighing 1.7 lbs.

This is the ultimate life twister. We made the decision to drive to the town where they live. I sat down in my recliner and opened my laptop. My husband asked what I was doing and I answered, "I'm sending out prayer requests." Then I packed and made the two hour drive to the hospital. As soon as I got to the waiting room, I set up my laptop. Why? To be connected to the people who were praying for our grandchild. I was amazed at the messages waiting for me. Messages from friends and friends of friends. Later that day I began receiving messages of success story from people who had faced the same thing.

This situation was certainly not something we had planned. We planned to welcome a bouncing baby boy in August of this year. Instead, we watch a Thumbalina-size baby lie in an incubator with his chest going up and down as if he is simply too tired to breathe. To see him, we must perform a scrubbing and gowning routine. We are not allowed to touch him--at the time we left the hospital..

What did we learn from this? We learned that life is precious. We learned how strong our son and his wife are. Most of all we learned the power of prayer from brothers and sisters in Christ and the comfort of hearing success stories.

Update: The baby has been removed from the ventilator and his navel tube has been removed. He now has a pic so that tests can be administered through that rather than further piercing. The navel line was removed yesterday. His blood gases are good. At this time he weighs 1. 4 1/4 lbs. He has lost 2 3/4 oz., which is not bad. The goal is to introduce him to milk today. We are very grateful for the progress he has made. If you consider that he is not due for another three months and yet he is breathing on his own and will begin eating today.

We praise God for the blessings we have received and the wonderful people who have ministered to us during these stressful times.

Strength For Today

2013-05-16T14:48:00.000-05:00

My Son and His Love Wife

Their Beautiful Baby Boy

I shared something on Facebook the other day that came up on my newsfeed. It was a poster type sign that read

You never know how strong you are...
until being strong is the only choice you have.

I saw the poster the day my grandson was born weighing 1.4 lbs. Immediately I thought of how strong my son and daughter-in-law had been through the most difficult time in their lives. Unless you've sat helplessly by the bed of your sick child, you don't know the fear that can grip your heart. Many were the nights I sat by this son's bedside watching him struggle for air because of asthma. I watched him gasp for breath and then take so long between breaths I'd think "Lord is he dead?" Then without warning, he'd take a gulp of air. Each time I noticed that I also took a breath. I unintentionally held my breath when he did.

Now he sits by the bedside--incubator--of his son. He watches him struggle for breath. He watches as the tubes monitor his son's every breath, pulse and heartbeat. Being medically trained, he knows the pain his son felt when they put those IVs in his delicate little hand.

I would like to take this opportunity to tell everyone how incredibly proud I am of my son and his lovely wife. The bravery they've shown during this traumatic time has been admirable. The faith they've shown in God has been a true testimony and witness for Christ.

Did they do anything I didn't do??? No. Why was their burden heavier than mine? When I sat by my son's bedside, he was 5 years old and weighed about 40 lbs. Their son is 13 weeks premature and weighs 1.4 lbs. They have no idea how long he will remain in the NICU.

My son was once a child with asthma. Today he is a man, husband, father, and believer of Christ Jesus. I am proud he is my son. I admire the man he has become and the choices he has made--especially the choice he made in a wife.

With Love,

From a mother's heart.

Where Love Once Lived

2013-05-14T16:41:00.000-05:00

Where Love Once Lived

Please visit my blog http://theresa-thebookmama.blogspot.com for a review of Where Love Once Lived by Sidney W. Frost.

Please Explain

2013-05-13T19:28:00.000-05:00

There are things that happen in this world I don't understand. I don't understand how a man can capture three young girls, hold them captive for ten years, and abuse them. I don't understand how a doctor can knowingly abort babies in the final trimester and then kill them.

Here is something personal that I do not understand. My son and his wife married for the first time in their late thirties. My daughter-in-law began trying to get pregnant immediately. Partly due to age and partly due to a strong desire to have a baby. After two years of trying, they tried the last thing on the list--invitro fertilization. They didn't tell anyone for several weeks because of the chance of miscarriage. When the doctor felt it was safe, they told family and friends. The baby was due in August. We were ecstatic and began making plans for our first grandchild.

This morning at 5:30 our son called to say that during the night, our daughter-in-law began to feel ill. He took her to the emergency room. Her blood pressure was extremely high and dangerous for herself and the baby. An emergency c-section was performed. Our baby was delivered at 27 weeks, weighing 1.4 lbs. and 12 in. long. He was born crying--a good sign. He also has a temper which he has displayed to the doctor several times.

Our first grandchild at 27 weeks, 1.4 lbs. 12 in. long.

Now here's what I don't understand. Here is a couple who has spent the last 2 1/2 years trying to have a baby. Now they are fighting to keep this one. I know they are not the only couple who is going through this. Yet we have couples literally throwing their baby away. They don't want him. He's an inconvenience. He's expensive. He requires too much time. We have a couple willing to spend their time and every cent they have to hold a baby in their arms. We have couples whose arms don't want to hold a baby.

Where is the logic in this? Why is it some want and can't have while others have and don't want?

More Or Less a Man-Part III

2013-05-10T06:56:00.000-05:00

Relaxation

By Sunday evening Heather felt refreshed and ready to get back to work. She had created a new game for Coach Davis and was looking forward to working with him. Mr. Thomas in room 1436 had the same injuries as Coach Davis, so she planned to work with them together. Unlike Coach Davis, Mr. Thomas had accepted his condition and was determined to gain strength through exercise. She hoped Mr. Thomas would inspire Coach Davis to work harder.

"Good morning." Heather told Ginger, her mentor for the program.

"Oh hi. How was your weekend?"

"Great. I really needed the time to myself."

"I know you had a rough week, but I promise you there will be plenty more of them. You need to learn how to handle them because you will have more rough weeks in your career."

"How do I do that?" Heather genuinely wanted o know.

"Do you have a hobby?"

"No, I'm too busy going to school and do clinicals."

"Well you need to find a good hobby. One that will take your mind off of work and allow you to 'escape' the world while standing in your living room."

"Okay, I'll think about that."

Heather decided to let Coach Davis know that she planned to work with both he and Mr. Thomas. Entering his room, she was surprised to see him sitting up in the bed with a pleasant expression on his face. As soon as he saw her, he broke out in a smile bright enough to light the entire room.

"Well how are you doing?" She asked.

Support Bars

"I'm fine. I've missed you the last few days. Where have you been?"

"I took some time off to relax."

"Oh, did it work?"

"Yes, thank you. I had a great time."

"You missed my boys."

"Your boys?"

"Yes, the team. Almost every one of them came to see me last week. I wish you'd been here."

"I saw them before I left for the weekend. They seemed to have lifted your spirits."

"Oh they did that. They said the things I used to say to them in the locker room. Believe me, I got the message."

"So are you ready to work?"

"Yes I am. And you won't have to fuss at me today."

Heather explained her idea of working with Mr. Thomas, but Coach Davis requested to work alone and promised Heather he would didn't need inspiration.

True to his word, Coach Davis worked hard and seemed to enjoy Heather's new game. She stood at the end of the hospital bed and blew the bubbles from the dollar store through the wand. Coach Davis would lift one of his nubs, as he called them, and pop the bubbles. They both enjoyed the game. They joked and laughed while they played or rather worked. This was the old Coach Davis that Heather remembered from high school.

On Tuesday Coach Davis' medical chart wasn't on the shelf. Heather walked quickly to his room and found an unfamiliar man measuring Coach Davis' legs.

"Hi Heather." Coach Davis smiled when she walked in the room. "This is Mr. Wynngate. He's measuring for my prosthetic leg. Isn't that exciting?"
"Yes it is, but I didn't realize you were looking forward to it."
"I wasn't. When Dr. Rossman asked me about it, I said not to bother. I didn't plan to wear it. But when my team came and read me the riot act I reconsidered. When they were talking to me, I heard myself talking to them in the locker room at half time. Can you believe that? They used my own words against me. I'm not sure that's fair."
"If it gets you out of this bed, it's fair. You have way too much life in you to spend it in bed." Heather remarked.
Mr. Wynngate looked up at Coach Davis and smiled. "She's right about that."
"I guess so. She was a student and dating one of my football players when I was coaching. Now she's my physical therapist who thinks she's my boss."
" I do not think I'm your boss, but it might not be a bad idea for you to have a boss. You haven't been exactly making rational decisions lately."
"See what I mean, Mr. Wynngate? Instead of strengthening my muscles, she's analyzing my mental competency."
Again Mr. Wynngate smiled at the coach. "Well if your plan was to lie in this bed until you died, she may be right about you not making good decisions. You lost your legs and while that is a really big adjustment, it's not the end of your life. With the prosthesis we have today you can be as active as you were before you lost your legs. There is a man in South Carolina who ordered a custom made prosthesis so he can run races again."
"No way." Coach Davis didn't believe that.
"Yes way. Is that something you are interested in? If so, I need to know before I start building your device. I can build it for running if you want."
"Well I wasn't much of a runner. It just wasn't my thing."
"What did you do before going into the military?"
"I was a football coach at the high school."
"Well I know it's not the same as the Friday night lights and fans screaming, but I volunteer at an organization called I-CAN. It stands for International Child Amputee Network. They help children who are born with under-developed limbs or lose them during childhood. Every summer I volunteer as a counselor at a camp called Adventure Amputee Camp. We have some really neat things for the children including river rafting, high ropes, and water skiing. If we modify the equipment, these kids can do anything. Like I said, it's not the same, but it would be working with children." Mr. Wynngate loved these children and promoted the organizations anytime he got the chance.

"Let me think about it. I'm not sure I'll be in any shape to volunteer by summer."
"You give me the word and I'll have you in shape by summer." Heather told him.
Coach Davis and Mr. Wynngate laughed.
Mr. Wynngate gathered his equipment to leave and said, "I'll be back in a couple of weeks with your prosthesis and I'll bring you some information on I-CAN." He left before Coach Davis could refuse his offer.

"Well do you feel like working out after all that?"
"Not really, but I think I need to. It sounds to me like Mr. Wynngate has me slated to help some children."

Weight Lifting

Over the next two weeks Coach Davis worked on building his strength. He was surprised at how much muscle tone he had lost lying in bed. Then he was embarrassed. A coach should know better, he thought.
At the end of the second week, Heather found him working out in the weight room. "How are you doing today?"
"I'm fine. Mr. Wynngate is coming today with my prosthesis and I'm trying to get my workout done before he gets here."
"Well I think I'm about to stop your workout. When he gets here, we are going to attach your new legs and then get you walking. That will take more strength than you think so I want you to stop the workout and go rest for awhile. I don't want you so tired you don't have the muscle tone to attempt walking." Heather said in her professional voice.

Reluctantly Coach Davis put down the weights and went back to his room. It seemed like an eternity before Mr. Wynngate arrived with the prosthetic. Heather wheeled Coach Davis into the therapy room where there was plenty of room to work.
Mr. Wynngate show the anxious coach how to attach the prosthesis to his leg. Then Coach Davis stood for the first time in several months. Heather had been right. It took all his strength and the help of Mr. Wynngate to stand. Holding on to bars on either side of his waist, he pulled himself down the therapy walkway. Despite his best effort, he collapsed midway. He was embarrassed and angry, but Mr. Wynngate informed him that most amputees trying the walkway for the first time fell.

Over the next couple of weeks, Coach Davis improved enough to be dismissed from the hospital. He still required outpatient physical therapy, but he was making great progress. With regular checkups at the clinic and exercise at the gym he would continue to improve. Heather was surprised at how much she missed him.

One day in early May, she walked to her usual nurse's station and saw Coach Davis in the waiting room. She started to walk over to him, but she saw him walking toward her. By the look on his face, she could tell he wanted to show her how well he was doing. His steps were still a little slow, but he required no assistance from crutches or canes. Heather couldn't help but smile watching him. Then she noticed his smile was even broader than hers.

After the greetings and hugs, Coach Davis said, "I had to come see you. I knew you'd want to hear my good news."
"What good news."
"I have been accepted as a counselor at Adventure Amputee Camp this summer. I leave in two weeks to help set up camp. Isn't that wonderful. I can hardly wait."

"Yes, it is wonderful. I'm sure you'll have a wonderful time. I'm just as sure you will inspire the children."

"Oh, I don't think so. I think it will be the other way around."

They laughed as Heather walked him to the elevator. He promised to call when he returned with a full report. She promised to consider volunteering next summer.

Antique Tractor Show

2013-05-06T03:30:00.000-05:00

Life's Lessons:

My husband and I attended an antique tractor show and I thought I would share some photos.

It took me about ten minutes to see the tractors. It took my husband about three hours. Thank God for my Kindle. My husband and I both enjoyed the day.

We did enjoy the drive over and eating at the Cotton Patch Restaurant.

Even I recognize an old John Deere.

More or Less a Man

2013-05-03T09:55:00.000-05:00

Part II

Heather had been taught that if a patient didn't care he wouldn't heal. A therapist couldn't make a patient care. Her head knew this, but her heart refused to believe that she couldn't help Coach Davis. She had to find a way to motivate him. The damage to his spirit was worse than the damage to his physical body and watching the results was just too difficult for Heather to take.

Heather left the hospital feeling less than happy about her job for the first time since starting her clinicals. She didn't know what to do. Coach Davis wasn't going to die from his injuries, but he certainly wasn't living with them.

Heather spent time in prayer about the situation. The next day she walked into the hospital prepared to talk to Coach Davis--more importantly she planned to listen. She pulled a chair beside his bed and sat down with determination.

Coach Davis looked at her curiously and said, "What in the world are you doing?"

"I'm working."
"Working? Doesn't look like work to me. Your job is to make me feel better."
"You are right and that's what we're going to do today."
"By sitting in that chair?"
"By working on your biggest problem."
"Now that's funny. My biggest problem is that I lost me legs."
"Well I will agree that is a problem. But you have a bigger problem."
"What is that?"

"I have diagnosed it as DTJE."
"What is that?"
"It stands for Determined To Just Exist."
"Well how would you feel if you went to serve your country and you came back in pieces?"
"Thankfully I cannot answer that question because I have no experience to draw from."
"That's right, you don't know." Coach Davis spat the words out of his mouth and the tone of voice showed his level of frustration.
Be patient, Heather told herself. She knew he was hurting and lashing out at her because she was convenient. "Why don't you tell me about it?"
"I'm damaged goods. No one is going to want me now."
"I don't believe that."
"Well I do. No school is going to hire me without legs. No woman is going to want to spend the rest of her life with me."
"Oh I think any woman would be proud to spend her life with you."
"Not the one I was engaged to." He said so softly that Heather hardly heard the words.
She hadn't know he was engaged. "I'm sorry you lost your love."
"When she came to see me in the hospital, she promised that nothing had changed. But as soon as the nurses removed the sheets to change my bandages, out that door she went. She couldn't have gotten out of here faster if she worn roller blades. For a week or so she called with excuses why she couldn't visit me. Then she sent me a letter telling me that it was too painful to see me this way."
"She sent you a letter?"
"Yes."
"She didn't tell you in person?"
"No, just a letter."
"Excuse me for saying, but I'm not sure you lost much."
Coach Davis laughed for the first time since the attack. "You might be right. She was kind of high maintenance. Did you know I bought her two engagement rings because she said the first diamond wasn't large enough? We always ate at the best restaurants. The only time I ate hamburgers was when I was with the team."
"Oh I think it's hard to beat a good hamburger."
"I agree."
"Did you know that a hamburger can actually be very healthy? If you use lean meat and mustard on wheat buns, it is healthy. You have your protein, whole wheat, and vegetables."
"Sounds like a complete meal."
"It is and a soft drink makes it a balanced meal."
Again Coach Davis laughed. Heather liked his laugh. She wished she could have heard more, but it was time for her next patient.
"Please excuse me. I need to go see my next patient."
"Okay, thanks for talking to me."
"I enjoyed it. Don't you feel better."
"I don't think we solved any of my problems, but I'm okay."

Over the next week Heather watched Coach Davis as his emotions ran the gamut from 'everything is fine' to 'my life is over'. There were days she thought she had made a difference and days she thought she'd wasted her time. The end of the week was one of those days when she wondered why she tried. Coach Davis was angry and snappy. Heather continued to be her sweet, friendly self although there were times she momentarily considered choking him.
On Saturday morning, after a restless and prayerful night, she made a decision. She walked quickly to the phone and dialed the number before she changed her mind.

"Hello?"
"Chip? This is Heather."
"Hello Heather. I still recognize your voice. You don't have to tell me who you are." He said with just a bit of teasing in his voice. "What's up?"
As quickly and succinctly as possible she told him the story of Coach Davis' tragedy. Chip was very saddened to hear about it.
"How can I help?"
"Well, he is so down, I thought that if some of the football players came to see him it'd lift his spirits."
"That's a good idea. I probably won't come because I'm so far away, but I will call some of the team and see if they can come."
"Thanks Chip. I really appreciate it."

On Monday morning Coach Davis was in a relatively good mood, which always made Heather's job easier. Although he didn't argue and complain, he didn't work very hard either. He still did as little as possible. Tuesday dawned a beautiful day outside, but a stormy day in Coach Davis' room. He almost bit Heather's head off as soon as she walked in the door. He did what she asked, but complained more than he exercised. His foul mood didn't improve Wednesday. Then came Thursday--a day Heather will never forget. This was more than a bad mood. He was argumentative, insolent, combative, sarcastic and arrogant.

Heather spent as little time as possible with him. His gloomy attitude had affected Heather so badly that she had scheduled a day off on Friday. She needed the long weekend and recover from the barbs she'd been thrown this week.

She was finishing paperwork and getting ready to go home when she heard a raucous down the hall. The noise was coming from Coach Davis' room. As she suspected, the team that went to state finals was standing in the hospital room of the coach they so willingly followed. There were more high fives being passed around than lollipops at a birthday party. Coach Davis was grinning from ear to ear. Not a fake smile. A genuine I-am-happy smile. Heather hadn't seen that smile since she graduated.
Just as quietly as she entered, Heather exited the room. This was a team moment and she didn't want to intrude.

Heather appreciated the long weekend as much as she needed it. She slept late, went shopping with a friend, and then saw a funny movie. It felt good to laugh after such a draining week. She had worked hard to keep her spirits up in front of Coach Davis and it was getting more difficult each day. She was pretty close to letting him sink in his own despair. That went against everything she believed, but the fact was, he was bringing her down with him.

Look for Part III next week.

Elected Offical???

2013-04-29T02:58:00.002-05:00

I heard the audio to this last week. I was so amused and amazed that I planned to write about it today. When I googled it, I found the video on youtube. There's not much I can say. You have to watch this.

And then there's our leader:

New Facebook Fanpage

2013-04-26T15:08:00.000-05:00

This is a great day. I am pleased to announce that my new facebook fanpage is up and running. I am very pleased with the response so far. This page has some fun puzzles and games as well as several videos. I have worked hard to make this page fun for you. Please stop by and give me a like. Please leave me a comment on the puzzles and games. https://www.facebook.com/storiesforchrist

Pornography Comes In Many Shapes

2013-04-22T03:00:00.000-05:00

You can rest easy now. Your teenager can't look at inappropriate magazines or intimate parts of a woman's body. All the magazines with women's parts showing are behind the counter, covered with a piece of black paper. He won't see anything you don't want him to see. Unless he in into sports and buys the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition of 2013.

My friend showed me this cover yesterday. I had already seen it at the bookstore. My friend said, "That looks like two cantaloupes. It is not attractive at all." She opened the magazine and to our dismay, we found that this was actually one of the more modest photos in the book. There was one photo of a model wearing only a thong--no top. True she had her back to the camera, but was turned one quarter toward the camera so that her breasts showed, but the nipples were covered with her arm.

Look at the Playboy Magazine on the right. The model is more modestly dressed than the Sports Illustrated model. Both of these covers are of 2013. Now I am not advocating that your teenager be allowed to buy Playboy Magazines. What I am saying is that it doesn't matter what title is on the magazine, pornography is pornography. Putting a suggestive photo on a magazine that does not come under the traditionally considered pornographic magazine genre changes nothing. I don't care if Good Housekeeping puts it on their cover. Suggestive is suggestive. The name of the magazine doesn't make it appropriate.

The opinion in this blog is mine and I am blessed to live in a country where I am allowed to express it. I welcome your opinion, whether for or against the photo. Please leave me a comment telling me how you feel.

More Or Less A Man

2013-04-19T07:54:00.001-05:00

Preston Davis had just returned home from the war. He wasn't the man he was four years ago. He had been a well built, healthy young man. Life couldn't have been better for him if he had designed it himself. Athletics had always been a part of his life. From youth football through college bowl games. He had played them all. After graduation he had accepted a position as football coach from his high school Alma mater. The team had gone to state his first year of coaching, making him a very popular coach. They didn't win, but he had been so proud of his team for making it to the finals. His bright smile, positive attitude, and ability to make others feel comfortable made him easily accepted by the townspeople.

Now he was a double amputee lying in a hospital bed with no future plans, thanks to the IED hit the humvee he was driving. On top of the physical pain was the emotional agony. He had been the only survivor in the humvee, although there were days he questioned the term survivor. As far as he was concerned, his life was over. Who would hire a coach that couldn't even walk, let alone demonstrate the plays to the team?

Heather Allen had been a senior the year Preston was hired. She had been dating the quarterback and had gone to every game. If it was an away game, Coach Davis allowed her follow the bus home for safety. Sometimes she stopped at a restaurant with the team on the way home. There she witnessed first-hand why the team respected and loved the new coach so much.

At the end of the school year, Heather had graduated and gone on to college. She and the high school quarterback had dated through their first year in college and then gone their separate ways.

Now Heather was completing her Master's Degree in Physical Therapy. She was enjoying the clinicals at the VA hospital. The courage of the men she worked with was inspiring. Some were bitter, but most were determined to not let their injuries keep them from living a full life. Heather felt blessed to be learning from the doctors, nurses, and physical therapists in this hospital. She was amazed at how much she learned from the patients.

Heather opened the new patient folder to learn the needs of the patient. Pain gripped her heart when she recognized the name. She remembered how vibrant he had been before he left. Now she held in her hand a folder labeled DOUBLE AMPUTEE.

"Excuse me while I go study this folder." Heather said to her mentor. Then she went in search of a quiet place. Just as she found the solitude her tears started flowing. "Lord, I can't do this without you. I can't remain professional or keep my emotions in check without your help. Please give me the strength to do what you have called me to do. Amen"

In short order, the tears stopped and Heather made her way down the hall to Preston's room. Just before entering she sent up one more silent prayer. Then she put on her best professional look and opened the door. At the sight of Preston she weakened and immediately felt the strength of the Lord come over her. Preston was at least 30lbs. lighter than when he was coaching, the color of ashes, and looked as weak as a small child.

Heather intentionally threw her shoulders back and walked with determination toward his bed. "Hi Coach Davis. Do you remember me? I dated Chip Reynolds in high school."

"Yes, I remember you. What are you doing here?"

"I am completing my degree in physical therapy and this is where I do my clinicals. I'm going to be your PT for a few days."

"I really don't feel like doing any work today."

"Oh but you will when I am finished. You will feel like a new man."

"I don't feel like a man at all." She heard him say under his breath.

Heather chose to ignore the remark. "Let's start with the arms."

"My arms? There's nothing wrong with my arms."

"I know, but you are not exercising like you once were. So let's work them a while." Heather instructed him on how to stretch his arms. It didn't take long for him to begin to tire. "Now let's work your legs for just a minute. Then you can stretch while I'm not here."

"I really don't want to stretch right now."

"Now you are a coach. What would you tell one of your players who told you he didn't feel like running plays today?"

"I don't believe that I can say that in front of you."

"I'm not surprised. You were tough on your guys, weren't you?"

"Yes and it got us to the playoffs."

"It sure did. I've never seen Chip so happy."

"He was a good quarterback. What's he doing now? Are you two still dating?"

"No we dated for a while after high school, but then we went our separate ways. He went east to a college and I stayed here so it was hard to communicate. We're still friends, but no dating. He is still in college majoring in chemistry."

"Oh wow, that's good."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. You've distracted me long enough. Now start stretching those legs."

"You mean these nubs?"

"They are not nubs."

"Yes they are."

"Okay, temporary nubs."

Preston stretched each of his nubs out twice and then informed Heather that he could not do it again. Frustrated, Heather left his room.

She kept picturing Chip on that football field in 99 degree weather, sweating, bruised, and dirty. He wanted to quit but Coach Davis kept pushing him. Sometimes Heather thought Chip was going to pass out, but he kept going because of Coach Davis. Now Coach Davis needed a coach.

Heather went home and considered how to motivate Coach Davis. She knew that every patient needed a goal to work toward. What would Coach Davis set his sights on? She thought. Lord, please give me some inspiration on how I can motivate Coach Davis. Amen.

The next morning Heather made a point of focusing on each patient. She wanted to complete her work quickly and efficiently. She planned to spend quality time with Coach Davis in the afternoon.

Heather walked into Coach Davis’ hospital room with much more confidence than she felt. “Well Coach, how are you feeling today?”

“Like I got hit by an IED.”

“Oh, cracking jokes, huh? You must be feeling better.”

Coach Davis didn’t smile and Heather recoiled at the change in what was once a sunny disposition. She kept smiling and pretending that she was in complete control of her emotions. “Aren’t you an athlete?”

“Yes, why?”

“What is the difference in a great athlete and a mediocre athlete?”

“A great athlete never gives up.” He answered with a snide voice.”

“I thought you’d say something like that. Today we are going to play ball.” Heather said as she pulled a small ball from her bag.

“You don’t have to play catch with me like I’m a little kid, you know?”

“Oh we aren’t playing catch.”

“Then what are we going to play?”

“Kickball.”

“Hey Einstein, I’m lying in a hospital bed while both of my legs are in another country. It might be a while before I can kick anything.”

“Then you’ll just have to use what you have in this country.”

“Well maybe we should change the name of the game to nub ball.” The sarcasm in his voice was far different than the lilt that used to lift the spirits of his students.

Heather pulled back the sheets, exposing his bandaged legs. She was careful to not let her feelings show in her face. Then she adjusted the bed so that Preston was in a half sitting position.

“Ready? Let’s play.” She said as she held the ball about twelve inches above his wounded legs and gently dropped it. Preston made no effort to raise his legs to kick. Frustrated but determined, Heather picked up the ball and tried again. And again she received the same response—or lack of.

End of Part I

Part 2 coming next week.

Shopping For My Mind

2013-04-15T07:39:00.000-05:00

I realize we live in a different world than when I was raising my kids, but things couldn't have changed that much. Could they?

Saturday, my husband attended an all day class in another town. He asked me to ride with him and suggested I do some shopping while I was there.

First, I went to Wal-mart to pick up a few items. I wanted to get there early before the crowds came. It wasn't too busy so the store was quiet and peaceful, making my task quick and enjoyable. Then I took care of some business and went to McDonald's to work on the computer. (It is so nice to be able to access the Internet in a fast food restaurant.) The restaurant was full of kids. Why not? It was getting close to 11:00 a.m. on Saturday. After ordering their meal, they all went happily outside to the playground.

Close to lunchtime I went back to the classroom, picked up my husband, and took him to lunch. Afterward I decided to do some fun shopping. To me there is a difference in shopping and buy things. Shopping is wandering around and looking for things I don't need. I rarely buy anything when I'm shopping. I shop for fun, stress relief, recreation, and enjoyment. I set out at about 1:30 p.m.

I went to Old Navy because I had a gift card. As I entered the door, I immediately noticed loads of clothes created for bodies other than mine. Before I had passed the first section of the store I heard a crying baby. Then I heard another one. They cried the entire time I was in the store. I finally left and headed for Bed, Bath, and Beyond. I was barely in the front door when I heard a crying child. The crying continued for the duration of my shopping. Then I headed across the street to Ross, Dress For Less, one of my favorite stores. Ross carries unique items, making every visit an adventure. As usual, I headed to the back for the section with dishes. I didn't make it all the way back before I heard a baby crying. None of these parents made any attempt to even determine the problem, much less comfort the child. By the time I left, I thought I'd lost my mind.

That's three different stores in the afternoon with crying babies. Now let's examine this to find the problem. Four different parents--not a parenting issue. Three different stores--not a location issue. Four different babies--not a personality issue. Afternoon--humm, could be the problem.

Newsflash! Small children need to nap in the afternoon. Taking a child shopping when his or her tired little body requires rest is not fair to the child, parent, or other shoppers. This child is only trying to communicate his or her needs. Parenting means putting your child's needs before yours. I am a parent. If it was necessary to take my babies shopping, we went in the morning, arriving home in time for lunch and a nap--usually for all of us. (Shopping with small children is exhausting.)

Children are more enjoyable when they are pleasant. Children are more pleasant when their needs have been met. My advice for young parents. Enjoy your child. Meet their needs. Enjoy your child. Do what is best for them. Enjoy your child.

Fiction Friday--Topsy Turvy Ministry

2013-04-12T13:34:00.000-05:00

Fiction Friday--Topsy Turvy Ministry

Ann and her husband, Ralph were faithful in their home church. They both served on several committees and were a reliable resource for the pastor and congregation. In turn, Ralph and Ann enjoyed serving their Lord and congregation.

Ann was mopping the kitchen floor when the telephone rang. She was not surprised to hear her pastor's voice on the other end.

"Good morning, Ann." Pastor Peachy said,

"Good morning, Pastor. What can I do for you today?"

"Mr. Paulson passed away last night. He had been ill for several months. I need you to take some food over to the family. The address is 675 N. Point St."

"Alright, I'll call some of the ladies in the church to bring food. They will bring it to the church and I'll pick it up and deliver it to the house."

"That's great. I'll leave the door to the kitchen open and they can put the food in there. Thanks for helping, Ann. I really appreciate you."

"I enjoy it, Pastor. I'll be at the church in a couple of hours to gather the food."

Immediately Ann began calling the food committee members. In a very short period of time, she had contacted enough ladies to present the family with an adequate meal. Then she began cooking the dish she planned to take. Two hours later she arrived at the church kitchen and was pleased to see the variety of dishes brought by the committee.

As usual her friend, Brenda was waiting in the kitchen to help her. They quickly loaded the food in the back of Ann's SUV. As Ann drove off, she handed the address to Brenda who was in the passenger seat. Although, neither had ever been there, it took very few minutes to arrive at the family's home.

There was no answer when Ann knocked on the front door. Brenda tried the door knob and discovered it not locked. Quietly she opened the door and called out. "Hello? Is anybody home?" They heard no answer.

"What do we do?" Ann asked.

"Well, they knew we were coming, so let's go in and set up the food."

They entered the home and quickly found the kitchen. They weren't surprised to see the kitchen in disarray and decided to clean it before bringing the food in from the car. It didn't take long for the two ladies to make the kitchen spic and span. They began unloading the SUV. Cold food was stored in the refrigerator and hot food was placed on the stove.

"That should help them a lot." Brenda stated.

"I think so." Ann replied. "Let's go home."

Ann had just settled down in her recliner when the phone rang. "Hello?"

"Ann, that was the wrong address. The family lives at 675 S. Point." Brenda said excitedly.

"Oh, no. I'll be at your house in five minutes."

Brenda and Ann drove as quickly as allowable--or semi-allowable back to the house on N. Point. As Ann backed into the driveway, Brenda observed that nothing had changed since they left. "No one is here."

"Oh, good. I didn't know how I was going to take all this food away from them. Let's hurry and get out of here before they return." Ann said as she literally threw food into the back of the SUV. In short order, the food was loaded and they drove across the highway to the same address on S. Point.

As with the wrong house, no one was home. This time Ann and Brenda placed the food on the counter-top so the family could served themselves quickly.

Just as they finished, Brenda said, "I don't remember that angel food cake at the church."

"Oh NO! I am not going back to that house. I've already been there twice today. It's a wonder someone didn't call the police on me. I am not taking that cake back."

An embarrassed Ann and an amused Brenda drove home debating whether they should ever admit their mistake.

What's Love?

2013-04-05T05:32:00.000-05:00

Alex was excited about going to school. Not that he liked school. In fact he hated school. He didn’t have any friends there. No one seemed to like him or want to play with him. He was excited because Madison was in his class again. She had been in his class in Kindergarten. She was cute in Kindergarten, but over the summer she had grown into a beautiful woman. She was the prettiest and sweetest girl in first grade. Every time Alex saw her, his mouth went dry and his knees wiggled like they were going to fall down. He had to find a way to talk to her.

Alex jumped off the bus, skipping the two steps and causing the bus driver to yell at him. He didn’t care. He was determined to talk to Madison. He marched into the classroom, making sure his lunch kit could be seen. It was a man’s lunch kit just like his daddy’s—well, maybe a little small. Alex wanted everyone to know that he was a man. He may have been only six years old, but he was in love and that made him a man. He walked up to Madison’s desk before he put his lunch kit away. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He tried again. His mouth just hung open like a rusty hinge.

“Get away from my desk.” Madison yelled.

Once again Alex opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

“Did you hear me? I don’t want you standing by my desk.”

Alex went behind her desk and pulled her chair out for her like he had seen in the movies. He didn’t realize that Madison was starting to sit. She fell on the floor.

“I told you to get away from me. Now look what you’ve done. Just get out of here. No one likes you anyways.”

Alex walked slowly to his locker to put away his lunch kit. He was disappointed in himself and surprised at Madison. He couldn’t believe she had yelled at him. She must not be feeling well today.

At recess Alex watched Madison run to the swings. On the swing she moved her legs back and forth to make the swing go higher. Alex decided to help her. He ran behind the swing and waited for it to come down. When it did, he put both hands on Madison’s back and pushed as hard as he could. Madison went high up in the air, the swing didn’t. Madison hit the ground hard. Her head bobbed down to the ground and when it came up there was blood coming out of her forehead.

Alex ran to say he was sorry, but Madison pushed him down in the mud. Then she ran off to tell the teacher. By the time she got to the classroom, blood was all over her dress. Mrs. Johnson started wiping the blood off Madison’s face. Alex walked into the room to make certain Madison was alright.

“Alex, I’m surprised at you. That was mean.” Mrs. Johnson scolded.

Alex tried to explain, but Mrs. Johnson didn’t want to hear about it.

“Go to the restroom and clean yourself up. I don’t blame Madison for pushing you in the mud.”

Alex went to the bathroom and washed the mud off of his hands and arms. Then he started to cry.

Not because he was hurt, but because he had hurt Madison. He didn’t want her to see him crying. She might think he was baby. So he stayed in the bathroom until he stopped.

When he walked back to the classroom, all the other students had come in from recess. Madison’s mom was there too. She looked at him in a mean way that scared Alex. He walked up to her, but she turned away before he could speak. Not that he could have spoken anyway. Why did Madison make him so shy?

Madison’s mom took her to the doctor to get her cut fixed. The room was kind of quiet after she left. The other kids didn’t talk to Alex for the rest of the day.

The next morning Madison came back to school with a bandage on her head. The doctor had put stitches in her head and covered it with gauze.

“Madison, does your head hurt?”

“What do you care? It’s your fault. My daddy told me that if you touched me again, I’m supposed to hit you in the nose with my fist. Get away from me or I’ll do what my daddy said.”

Alex sadly walked back to his desk. He watched Madison all day to see if she needed anything. When it was time for recess, Madison had to stay on the sidewalk so her cut wouldn’t come open again. Alex decided to stay with her.

“Hi Madison. I’ll stay with you so you won’t get lonely.” He told her.

“I think I’d rather be lonely. Every time you are around something bad happens.”

“That’s not true.” Alex said, but with not very much conviction. It kind of was true. He didn’t mean for these things to happen. They just sort of happened before he could stop them.

“Just be quiet.”

“I’ll share me gum with you.” He took it out of his mouth to give to her, but she turned her head. Her ponytail hit his hand and the gum got stuck in her hair.

“Now look what you’ve done.” Madison yelled. “I told you to go away and leave me alone. I don’t want you to stand by me.”

“Madison.”

“Just leave me alone.” She yelled as she went into the school to tell the teacher what Alex did.

Alex went back to the restroom—to cry again.

After a while the principal came into the restroom. “What’s the problem?” Mr. Watson asked.

“Nobody likes me. I don’t have any friends and most of all Madison hates me.”

“Well I’m sure it can’t be as bad as you say. Let’s talk about it. Nobody likes you?”

“No, nobody.”

“You see that’s not true. I like you. The important question is do you like yourself?

“Not really.” Alex answered.

“That’s the most important thing. If you don’t like yourself, how can anyone else like you? Tell me something good about you.”

“I don’t know anything.”

“What do you do well?” Mr. Watson asked.

“Nothing.”

“That’s not true. Everyone does something well. Do you obey your parents?”

“Yes, most of the time.”

“Well that’s good. Most children don’t obey their parents.”

“I clean my room sometimes.” Alex said.

“That’s good. Did you push Madison?”

“Well I kind of did and I kind of didn’t.”

“What do you mean?” Mr. Watson asked in his principal voice.

“I was trying to help her go higher and she let go of the swing. I didn’t mean for her to fall.”

“You were trying to help her? That’s good.”

“I didn’t mean to put gum in her hair either. I was trying to share my gum and she turned her head.”

“Sharing is good.”

“One time my sister was crying and I hugged her.”

“Caring is good. It sounds to me like you do a lot of things well. There are lots of things to like about Alex. Now do you feel better?”

“Yes, I do.” Alex walked back into the classroom. He smiled at Roger. Roger looked at him strangely. Alex walked toward his desk. Emily dropped her book and Alex stopped to pick it up for her. She looked at him funny.

Alex began being nice to everyone. That afternoon Brandon invited Alex to play ball. They both had fun. Roger invited Alex to his house to watch cartoons. Suddenly Alex was getting a lot of invitations to play with other children. They were beginning to like Alex. By the end of the week, the whole class liked Alex. Well, not the whole class. Madison still didn’t like him, but that was alright because Alex liked himself. That was the most important thing.

Fiction Friday-Just Visiting

2013-03-29T16:47:00.001-05:00

Just Visiting

Betty was sleeping in her recliner when she heard the sound. She stirred slightly, not awake but not asleep either. It was a familiar sound yet she couldn’t identify it in her dazed condition. Just as she was drifting back into a peaceful slumber, she heard the noise again.

Wide awake now, she looked around the room to find the source of the racket. When she saw it, she was shocked that she hadn’t been able to identify it sooner. Walter, her husband of fifty-two years, was rocking back and forth in the old rocker. Betty saw his mouth move, but couldn’t understand what he said. The loud creak of the rocking chair, which they had received as a wedding gift, made conversation difficult. He stopped rocking so she could hear him.

Walter smiled, “Good morning, sleepy-head. I was afraid you’d sleep all day.”

“Walter?”

“Yes, dear.”

“What are you doing here? What do you want?”

“I just wanted to visit with you. It’s been a long time since we’ve talked. How have you been?”

“I’m fine. I have good days and bad days. How are you?”

“I’m great. All of my days are good. I haven’t had a bad day in six months.” Walter was clearly excited. “I feel great. I walk all day long, just visiting with one person then another. I can always find someone to talk to, you know?”

“How well I remember. You were always the first one to arrive at church and the last one to leave. I used to get so mad at you for holding up dinner.”

“Well you don’t have to worry about that anymore.” He chuckled. It had never bothered him when she would get angry about one of his habits. He was who he was and didn’t plan to change. He always reasoned that he had been behaving that way longer than she had been getting upset about it; so it was easier for her to change. Every once in a while, he’d feel a little guilty about not trying to change. Then he’d remember that he was that way before they met. He rationalized, She knew that when she married me. With that justifying statement, he continued the habit and secretly enjoyed watching his beautiful wife turn three shades of red as she tried to keep her temper in check.

“No, I’d gladly worry about it again if you were here.”

“I know, Sweetheart. I’d love to see you happy, but I just don’t want to come back. You’ll understand when you get there. You wouldn’t want to come back either.”

“Do you miss me?”

“No, Darling. I’m afraid not.”

Betty couldn’t keep the tears from falling. She had been sure he was missing her as much as she was missing him. Now he stood before her saying that wasn’t true.

“Please don’t cry, Sweetheart. I love you, but I don’t miss you. I have to leave soon. Let’s don’t spoil what little time we have together with tears.”

“I’m sorry. I just miss you so much.”

“Is that why you are sleeping in the recliner?” Walter asked tenderly.

“Yes. I haven’t slept in our bed since you left. When I go in the bedroom I just see a huge, ugly platform. I just can’t sleep there. I did try, but I kept reaching for you. The pillows weren’t comfortable, so I bought new ones. That didn’t help. I finally realized what was wrong. I had laid my head on your should before falling asleep every night for fifty-two years. They don’t make a pillow as comfortable as your shoulder. Did you really have to leave me?”

“Yes, Darling. I stayed as long as I could, but finally the pain was more than I could stand.”

“The doctor was giving you pain pills.”

“The pills were only easing the pain. They didn’t kill it. Please don’t begrudge me the opportunity to be pain free and happy.”

“I don’t. I’m sorry if I sound as if I do. I’m just being selfish. It isn’t easy being alone.” Betty heard the whine in her voice, but couldn’t help feeling sorry for herself.

“I know. You won’t be alone for very long. Soon you’ll come with me and we’ll be able to visit for all eternity.”

“Is that why you’re here? Can I go with you today?”

“Not today, but soon. When you come, I’ll be waiting at the gate for you.”

“How will you know I’m coming?” Betty asked anxiously.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll know.”

The unexpected ringing of the telephone prevented her from asking more questions. “Hello?” She answered.

“Hi, Mom. What are you doing today?”

“Oh I was just visiting with your dad.” The silence was deafening. “Alisha? Are you there?”

“Mom, Dad has been dead for six months.”

“Do you really think I don’t know that? In case you don’t remember, I’m the one that wakes up every morning without him. He may have died six months ago, but he is sitting in my rocking chair today.”

As if to verify her statement, Betty turned toward the old rocking chair. It was perfectly still and empty. She quickly looked around the room. “Walter? Walter? Where are you?” With fresh tears, she said, “He was here, Alisha. I know he was here. I saw him.”

“When did you see him?”

“When I woke up this morning.”

“I think you were dreaming, Mom.”

“I know the difference in reality and a dream, Missy.” Betty snapped.

Alisha cringed as she heard the name. It was used to express her mother’s displeasure with her. She had heard it often growing up. Alisha couldn’t decide if she upset her mother often or her mother was always upset and funneled it Alisha’s way.

“Calm down, Mom. I’m sure you believe you saw Dad, but I’ve never heard of someone coming back from the dead.”

“Well I don’t care. He was here.”

“Have you been feeling alright?”

“Oh, good one, Alisha. Like I don’t know what you’re trying to say. I’m not crazy. I talked to your dad everyday for fifty-two years and I don’t plan to stop now.”

“I don’t want you to stop talking to him. I just want to make sure you know that he wasn’t really there today.”

“He was here and you are not going to get me to admit otherwise.” Betty’s voice was at a level and pitch that clearly showed her frustration.

“Fine, Mom. Just please don’t tell anyone that Dad came to see you today.”

“I’ll think about it.” Betty snapped as she hung up without saying goodbye. She loved her daughter, but there were times when they butted heads. Usually during those times neither was willing to back down. Walter had intervened many times when Alisha was growing up.

Betty went back to her recliner. “Walter?” She called softly. “Walter, please come back. I need you so much. I don’t want to live without you.” Again the tears started and couldn’t be stopped. He had been the love of her life. She had married him right out of high school and had never considered loving anyone else. Every decision she had made for the last fifty-two years had been with his happiness in mind. The thought of facing another day without him was unbearable. Eventually Betty fell asleep.

Alisha began to feel guilty for the way she had talked to her mother. She thought about it for a while and decided she owed her mother an apology. With a heavy heart and filled with anxiety, Alisha dialed her mother’s phone number. This time there was no answer. After several calls, she drove to Betty’s house. As she walked in the front door, she saw her mother sleeping in the recliner. Irritated that her mother hadn’t gotten up to answer the phone, Alisha walked over to wake her up.

“Mom. Mom, wake up. When are you going to learn you have to answer the phone? I worry when you don’t answer my calls. Mom? Mother?”

Betty didn’t wake up. She didn’t move. She had gone to be with Walter, her husband, lover, friend, and reason for living.

A Lesson From My Heart

2013-03-25T16:28:00.000-05:00

Life's Journey

A Lesson From My Heart

Please allow me to express my thoughts today. Just to give you heads up, this posting will be uncomfortable for many. I know it will be uncomfortable for many in my family. I hope everyone, especially those that are uncomfortable, stick with me to the end. These are thoughts meant to comfort hurting hearts.

Like most families, cancer has reached out its craggy fingers and touched someone we love. I will not identify the family member to protect her privacy. She has been told by three different doctors that at this time, there is no cure for her type of cancer. She has decided to discontinue chemo treatments. She is using other recommended treatments, but sick and tired of the effects of the chemo.

One day I remembered that when someone passes away from cancer, someone says something like, "John lost his battle with cancer on Thursday." I thought about that and immediately thought, No, she won't lose her battle with cancer. She will win her battle with cancer.

At the instant she takes her last breath, she will have beaten her cancer and any other disease she has. She will be pain free, debt free, guilt free, stress free, and sin free for eternity. You see, she is a very special person. She is a child of the King. She accepted Christ as her savior when she was a child and is positive that she will be waiting in heaven for me when I arrive.

For all families facing the certain death of a loved one, let's look at it from God's perspective. Death is not a defeat. It is victory. Victory over the disease, sin, and this world in general. The next time you are faced with saying farewell to a love one, remember two things.

The grave is not goodbye--it is 'see you later'.
Remember the lyrics to a Christian song. The lyrics say, 'We have won, we have won. Through the blood of Jesus, we have won.'

Will you have victory over your disease? Have you accepted Christ as Savior?

Fiction Friday-Year 2345

2013-03-22T21:38:00.001-05:00

Fiction Friday

Year 2345

“Michael, get up. You’re going to be late for school.” Regina called.

“Coming Mom.” It was the answer Regina wanted to hear, but she saw no evidence of her son’s appearance in the kitchen where he should have been ten minutes ago.

Michael entered the room in his blue coveralls. They matched his mother’s and father’s. In fact, they matched the residents of everyone in the city. The President and Congressmen had gotten tired of the school shootings stemming from jealousy and decided to get rid of it all together. They drew up the pattern and had one piece coveralls made for everyone in the country. Color was assigned by city. It was required attire and one had no choice about what to wear. At one time, it seemed like a good idea. It eliminated jealousy and the need to waste time in the morning deciding what to wear. It also made everyone equal. There was no long any rich or poor. It was just people in their blue coveralls or whatever color they were assigned.

“Look in the compartment and see what the cooks sent for your breakfast.” Regina told her son.

Michael went over to the wall of compartments. It looked like a wall of small cabinets stacked on top of each other. For each meal, the cooks decided what everyone in the city would eat. They would cook enough for each citizen and then deliver the meals. That saved the citizens time shopping and cooking. It also made sure that each citizen got the nutrition he or she needed. Furthermore no one ate more than their fair share. Obesity had been eradicated using this method. Diabetes and high blood pressure were considered extinct diseases.

After Michael ate his allotted banana and bowl of oatmeal, he gathered his books, shook hands with his mother, and rode his hover scooter to school. Kissing had been outlawed years ago when research showed that emotional ties made people weak and unable to use logic when making decisions. Michael longed for more affection from his mother. He didn’t know exactly what a kiss was, but he had read about it. His thoughts were that a mother and child ought to have more affection for each other than they did their neighbors.

His hover scooter was white with a blue stripe down the side, just like everyone else’s. A hover scooter was a machine that had a flat platform on which to stand, a steering post and handles to guide it. It rode on a stream of jet air. There were no trees left, so an alternative to tires had to be developed. The hover scooter was the answer.

Michael parked his hover scooter in his assigned parking place and went to his classroom. He opened his assigned computer and received his lessons for the day. Students were expected to complete the assignments on their own and then report for volunteer duty. They worked alongside the regular workers and received credit for volunteer hours which was applied to their education requirements. There were no grades in the educational system. There was a set of criteria to be achieved by each student no matter how long it took. Upon completion of the criteria, they were ‘graduated’ to the workforce. During the classroom time, students were not allowed to socialize. There was no talking in school.

Even though there was no human teacher in the room, there was a monitoring system observed by the principal. Students caught breaking the rules lost some of their credits, which lengthened the amount of time they remained in the educational system.

Michael completed his daily assignment and then went to his assigned volunteer duty. His duty was mixing concrete used in all building projects. He worked beside ol’ Jim. Michael thought Jim had been there since the year 2000. He knew that couldn’t be true, but sometimes Jim moved slow enough to be that old. Today was one of those days. Michael arrived to see steam coming from one the pumps. He ran to the pump and saw that Jim had closed the wrong valve. Instead of the concrete being pumped out to the site that needed it, it was going back against itself. The concrete under pressure was getting hotter and hotter. If Michael hadn’t come when he did, the entire plant could have blown up.

“Hey Jim. Didn’t you see the steam coming out of the pump?”

“Yeah. I was going to get it if you hadn’t stepped in and took over like you know everything. You know I hate that.”

“Jim, I don’t know everything and don’t want to get in the way of you doing your job. But if that pump gets too hot, it will blow up and you could be killed in the process.”

“Then there’d be one less mouth to feed. Wouldn’t that be horrible?” Jim said sarcastically.

“Jim, what’s gotten in to you lately? You don’t seem to be yourself.”

“I’ve been doing some reading and been pretty surprised at what I learned.”

“What’s that?”

“I learned there was a time when people made their own choices about what they wanted to do with their lives.”

“Are you sure about that? That sounds a little scary to me.”

“Well up until a hundred years ago, that’s exactly what they did. A man or woman could be anything they wanted to be, eat anything they wanted, and wear whatever clothes they wanted.”

“Really? What happened?”

“A lot of people became irresponsible with their decisions. Some chose to eat poorly. Some even chose not to work.”

“Not work? How did they get their supplies?” Michael asked, astounded at the information.

“They just stayed home and the government sent them money.”

“Well that doesn’t sound so bad.”

“Except the government didn’t give them enough to live on. They gave just enough to get by on. Even though everyone had choices, these people had fewer choices because they didn’t work.”

“So what happened?”

“The government decided to stop giving people the option of not working. That’s why everyone is assigned a job and gets their needs met by the government. In some ways this is a better system, but in others—I’m not so sure.”

“Which system would you rather live under?”

“I’m not sure. I see advantages and flaws in both systems. What do you think?”

What DO YOU think? Please leave me a comment. If you do not want it published, I will delete it after reading.

Taco Rice

2013-03-21T18:36:00.000-05:00

Recipes From the Heart

Taco Rice

Sorry to be so late in the day, but I've been busy. I just finished a great dish and couldn't wait to share it with you. I often use Knorr Rice Sides or Pasta Sides to make dinner. They are good as side dishes, but I usually use them as ingredients in one-dish meals. Today I used The Cheddar Broccoli Rice Side and Taco seasoned ground turkey.

1 pkg. Knorr Rice Sides Cheddar Broccoli
1lb. taco seasoned ground turkey meat
1 medium onion (chopped).

I browned the meat and chopped onion in a skillet. Then added about three cups of water and the package of rice/broccoli/seasoning. I cooked it until the rice absorbed the water (about 10 minutes). The meat was pre-seasoned. The rice was pre-seasoned. So no extra seasoning was needed. One variation would be to cover it in melted cheddar cheese.

Dirty Shirt

2013-03-18T09:45:00.000-05:00

Life's Journey

Dirty Shirt

When I was teaching first grade, I had many memorable moments. One day the children were working quietly at their desks and I was working at mine. Suddenly one of the children said, "Mrs. Franklin, Chris is crying." Now Chris was a rough and tough little boy. He wasn't a bully, but he wasn't afraid to stand his ground either. Given his personality, I was more than alarmed at his crying.

I called him to my desk, put my arms around him, and asked, "What's wrong?" He began crying harder and replied, "My mama made me wear two shirts this morning and now I'm hot." Now for those of you who do not live in Texas let me explain. We can leave for school in the morning in 50 degree weather and return that afternoon in 85 or 90 degrees. It had been cool that morning and his mother had put two t-shirts on him for warmth. I sort of laughed at the simplicity of his concern and said, "Chris take the top shirt off." Then he started crying uncontrollably and said, "I can't. The one on the bottom is dirty." I replied, "Chris, go to the bathroom, take the top shirt off, take the bottom shirt off, and then put the top shirt back on." He did and was fine for the rest of the day.

Isn't that the way we are as Christian? We clean up and dress up so we look really good on the outside. But underneath we are dirty. When we get disgusted with ourselves, we cry out and sit inside our dirty selves. Crying doesn't help. It doesn't make us feel better and certainly doesn't fix the problem. We need to take the dirt off. HOWEVER, we can't do that. We are incapable of solving our problems. We need help from someone.

Just as I determined a solution to Chris' problem, God has the solution to our problems. We need to allow him to clean our lives. He is capable of making our insides as white or whiter than our outsides. If you are in pain today because of sin and corruption, get alone with God and cry to Him like Chris cried to me. Then follow His instructions and prepare to get rid of your pain. God can cleanse the dirtiest inside shirt.

Fiction Friday--Pardigm Shift

2013-03-15T03:00:00.000-05:00

Fiction Friday

Paradigm Shift

The GED class at The Hope Pregnancy Center was going well. Students were coming on a regular schedule and working hard while they were there. Class was almost over when Brittany walked in.

“May I help you?” Miss Carolyn asked.

“I’m here to sign my boyfriend up for the GED class.”

“Does he know it?” Miss Carolyn asked with a chuckle in her voice.

“Yes, he sent me up here. He took the practice GED test and tested at 5^th grade.”

“Why didn’t he finish school?”

“Because he moved here.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Well he used to live somewhere else and he was going down the wrong path so I made him move here. I wanted to get him away from his friends who were leading him in the wrong direction.”

Fear gripped Miss Carolyn’s heart. She was committed to helping these young people be successful. For a better understanding, she had taken the GED practice test and knew there was no way someone with a 5^th grade reading level could pass the test. If one adds in a little attitude, it was even harder. After visiting with Brittany further, she learned that Charles had been given accommodations in school to help him pass his classes.

“As long as you read it to him, he can tell you the answer.” Brittany explained. “He just can’t read it himself.”

“I wonder if accommodations are available for the GED.” Miss Carolyn asked. “I’m going to find out.

Through some research, she learned that there were accommodations for the General Education Diploma test upon request. The test could be read to him. Oh great, Carolyn thought. Another one that will get tired of me reading to him while practicing and storm out the door. In her career as a Special Education teacher, she had run across this often. The student would start out excited and willing to ‘do anything’ and then frustration would set in and he left feeling defeated and worthless. She certainly wasn’t looking forward to working with this boy.

When she told the receptionist that Charles was coming in and she would read the test to him, Miss Jackie was shocked. “Charles can’t read? That surprises me. He has never shown any indication that he can’t read. You should see him in the parenting classes. He participates more than the mothers do. He really takes care of that baby. When Brittany came home from the hospital, she didn’t have to do anything. Charles took care of her and the baby. You are going to love him. I can’t wait for you to meet him.”

Miss Carolyn smiled sweetly at Miss Jackie. Apparently Miss Jackie likes this kid. We’ll see.

Two hours later, Charles walked into Miss Carolyn’s classroom. The first thing she noticed was the most beautiful blue eyes she had ever seen. Then she looked at the baby he held in his arms and saw the same eyes. Charles stuck his hand out and introduced himself. He was tall, well built, confident, and polite. At least he has that going for him. Miss Carolyn thought.

“I wanted to come and talk to you.” Charles said. “But I don’t want to take that practice test today. I want to practice at home with just Brittany watching me.”

“That’s fine.” Miss Carolyn reassured him. “You don’t have to worry about working with me. I want you to be comfortable and I won’t ask you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.”

Brittany took the baby to another room, leaving Charles and Miss Carolyn alone.

During the next two hours Miss Carolyn visited with Charles. He was an eighteen-year-old boy who had chosen to grow up fast when his girlfriend became pregnant. There had been no male role model in his life and he didn’t want his daughter growing up the same way. He wanted a GED so he could get a better job. He assured Miss Carolyn several times that he would not quite. He was determined to make a life for his girlfriend and the child he adored.

“When we were at the doctor’s office the other day, I read two chapters of the Bible to Brittany. I am determined to read that book, no matter how long it takes. Do you have any other books I can read? I didn’t want to read when I was in school. Now I’m really trying to get into reading. I know that some of my problem in school was because I just didn’t want to do it. But now I have Brittany and Emily to care for. I’ve got to have a good job to support them, so I need to learn to read. Do you have any books that would help me?”

Miss Carolyn’s heart went out to this boy/man who was trying so hard to be the caretaker he needed to be for the girl and baby he loved. “I don’t have any books that I think would be interesting to you. Let’s look on the internet and find some things for you to read.”

“Thank you. I really appreciate your help.”

“You are welcome. Now let me send some links to your email so you can read at home.”

Brittany and Emily came back in the room. Immediately Charles noticed that Emily had a band-aid on her thumb. “What happened to her?”

“She got a paper cut playing with a book. She didn’t even cry. We just noticed the blood and saw the cut.” Brittany explained.

Charles took his baby’s hand in his own and brought it gently to his mouth. After several kisses on the boo-boo he let go of her hand. It was obvious to Miss Carolyn that everything Miss Jackie had said about this boy was true. He truly loved that baby.

On the drive home Miss Carolyn couldn’t get Charles out of her mind. He was not at all what she had expected. He was polite and personable. He was more responsible for his baby than most men twice his age. He was truly a good kid who had gotten mixed up in the wrong crowd. Lucky for him, Brittany had loved him enough to intervene. When he spoke it was obvious that he was intelligent. Miss Carolyn noticed dyslexia tenancies as they talked. She asked him about it and he admitted that he had been in a dyslexia program. With that discovery, Miss Carolyn had more faith in his ability to master the GED test. Experience had taught her that people with dyslexia are very intelligent. Their brains just process written language in a different way. If someone reads the material to them, they can learn it.

Over the weekend, Miss Carolyn told her husband about Charles. “Well can you get him some books that he could read?” Dwight asked.

“We would need to go to a large bookstore. Most bookstores don’t carry those books.”

“There are special books?”

“Yes, they are called Hi-Lo books. It stands for High Interest/Low Readability.”

“Well let’s go get some.”

They made a special trip to a large bookstore where Miss Carolyn spent almost an hour selecting books for Charles. It was difficult to find books that he could read, but weren’t written for children. Finally, books in tow, they left the bookstore.

The following week, Miss Carolyn sent Charles a message by way of email that she needed to see him. He made arrangements with his boss to leave work early to see Miss Carolyn. When he walked in the classroom, he had a quizzical look on his face. “Did you want to see me? Is something wrong?”

“No, not at all. I have something for you.” She brought out the books. One by one she showed him the books. They discussed each one. “This one is called Treasure Island. It is a classic. You are going to love it.” Then she showed him two other books. Finally, she looked at him and said, “I saw this one on the way out of the store and I couldn’t leave without it.” She reached in the bag and pulled out a book called My First Book. “This one is for Emily, but I want you to read it to her. Research shows that children who are read to by their parents do better in school.”

The tears in his eyes showed his feelings. “Thank you for getting these books for me. Most of all, thank you for getting that book for Emily. My parents didn’t read to me and I had a hard time in school. I don’t want Emily to have a hard time. I want her to be smart like Brittany. I’ll do anything I can to help her.”

Over the next two months Charles and Miss Carolyn worked hard to help him achieve success on the GED. After he received his diploma, he began applying for better jobs. He was a good worker and it didn’t take long for him to land a job. After a while, he and Brittany married and moved to a larger apartment.

It has been five years since Miss Carolyn taught Charles that with a little change in thinking, he could accomplish anything. Or did Charles teach Miss Carolyn?

Too Many Hypocrites

2013-03-11T16:02:00.001-05:00

Life's Journey

Too Many Hypocrites--One Life Lesson

We've all heard it. "I'm not going to church because there are too many hypocrites there." People who say that are exactly right. There are too many hypocrites in the church. Do you know how many hypocrites are in the church? I do. I feel sure the members of your church who would qualify as a hypocrite are 100%.

What? Did you just call me a hypocrite?

Yes, I did and before you get mad about it, hear me out.

The Definition of HYPOCRITE. 1: a person who puts on a false appearance of virtue or religion . 2: a person who acts in contradiction to his or her stated beliefs or ...

I do not put on a false appearance of virtue or religion.

Oh really??? Do you go around calling everybody you see Brother or Sister?

No, I only do that a church? But everything else I do all the time.

Really? Do you hug every member of your family every time you pass them in the hallway?

No, I don't have time for that?

You have time at church. Do you walk around your house singing?

No, Who sings when they're working around the house?

The point is that we all act differently at church than at home. Even at home we act differently if we have company. How many times have your spouse or kids embarrassed you in front of company? The most humbling thing is to have to stand there and smile when you'd really like to smack them. No one talks or acts the same in every situation. Our behavior is situational. Using that definition, we are all hypocrites to a certain extent. Think about it.

Fiction Friday--Entertainment Hill

2013-03-08T03:49:00.002-06:00

Fiction Friday. Please enjoy this short story about four teenagers and a new pickup truck.

Kayleigh was a happy, well adjusted teenager. She was well liked at school by teachers and students alike. She was one of those people who had been happy since birth. No matter what the circumstance Kayleigh could find a reason to be happy.

When Kayleigh was a child, her parents hadn’t had much extra spending money. They worked hard to pay the bills, but there was little money left over for fun. One of her fondest memories was going for drives with her parents. They liked looking at the trees and fields of growing vegetables. But the thing Kayleigh liked the best was driving down one particular road. There was a major hill in the road. If a car was going fast over the crest of the hill, it would leave the road and become airborne. While her dad drove, Kayleigh sat in the backseat and yelled, “Faster Daddy. Go faster.” Her dad always obliged and speeded up on the mostly deserted road. Kayleigh would hold her arms up in the air and allow the sudden motion of the car to raise her off the seat for just a moment. Her stomach would turn somersaults and she would laugh delightedly. Her parents called it ‘the poor man’s rollercoaster.’

“Hi, Kayleigh.” Heather called from across the school yard.

“Hi, Heather. How are you doing?”

“I’m fine. Mitch invited us to his house today after school. He wants to take us for a ride in his new truck. Would you like to go?”

“Sure, I’d love to see his new pick-up.” Kayleigh had always loved trucks.

“Great. I’ll tell him we’re coming. See you after school.”

“Cool. We’ll take my car.”

“Sounds good.” Heather called as she walked toward her first class.

Kayleigh looked forward to going to Mitch’s house that afternoon. He was a good friend. She could be herself without trying to impress him. It was fun to just relax and have fun. His friend, Cody was usually with Mitch. The four of them had some good times together.

When school was out, Heather got into Kayleigh’s car and after a stop at the drive-in for drinks; they headed to Mitch’s house. As expected Cody was there. Kayleigh and Heather greeted Mitch’s parents respectfully. They had visited in the home many times and were welcomed each time.

The four teenagers piled into Mitch’s truck. The girls got into the backseat of the extended cab and the boys in the front. They waved goodbye to Mitch’s parents as he drove away.

The brand new pick-up truck was beautiful. The interior was beige leather with heated seats. The five CD changer was state of the art. The bright sun bounced off the bright shade of copper on the exterior of the truck. Kayleigh had never seen something so beautiful.

Mitch drove past a few houses of friends. Some came out and waved as the fabulous four drove past. Others watched out the window and smiled at the ‘copper kettle’ driving down their street. After they ran out of friends to impress, Mitch asked, “Now where do you want to go? Does anyone know some place fun that we could try this fine machine out to the fullest?”

“I know a great place.” Kayleigh announced.

“Where is that?” Cody asked, excited about a new challenge.

“On Franklin Road. There is a hill that is fun to drive over.”

“Oh yeah, my dad used to take us there all the time.” Cody let them know.

“Alright, let’s go.” Mitch yelled. He knew where the road was located and drove straight to it.

Kayleigh told him which way to turn on Franklin Road. Mitch sped up a little and the adventurous teens went over the hill sending the ‘copper kettle’ much higher than the car Kayleigh’s dad drove.

“Whoa. That was cool.” Cody yelled once they had stopped.

“That was awesome. Let’s try it a little faster.” Mitch suggested. He turned the truck around and headed back toward the hill. This time his truck was going about 45 miles an hour when he drove over the hill. The girls in the backseat felt their stomachs come up into their throats.

“Oh man. That was fun.” Heather yelled.

“That was at 45. I wonder what it would do at 90 miles an hour.” Mitch exclaimed.

“Hey man, that’s not safe. What if another car was coming down that road and we had an accident? Someone could get hurt.” As usual, Cody reigned in his friend’s audacious behavior.

“That’s not a problem. You stand by the road and watch for cars. You signal me when it is safe and I’ll get the truck up to 90 before I get to the hill. If it works then I’ll watch for cars and let you drive next.” Mitch was always the idea man.

“Alright, but don’t you dare start until I give you the signal.” Cody exited the truck and walked to a safe distance where he could see the road in all directions.

Mitch backed up the distance he thought necessary to get the desired speed. He and the girls watched Cody carefully. Cody checked the road in all directions. When it was clear, he gave the signal for Mitch to start. Mitch revved the engine so it would get a good take-off. Then he dropped it into gear and punched the accelerator as hard as he could. The truck took off like lightning. The girls saw the speedometer hit 90 right before the hill. When the truck left the ground it went so high the girls hit their heads on the top of the cab. Then the truck came down with a loud thud and every occupant in the truck knew—it was damaged.

Cody came running down the street. He had heard the crash from where he stood. “Is everyone alright?” He yelled as he approached the truck.

“We’re fine.” The others answered.

“We are, but I don’t think the truck is.” Mitch said as he stared out the windshield.

“You want to get out and see about it?” Cody asked.

“No, I just want to go home.” Mitch said as he put the truck in gear.

The drive home was much quieter than when they left. Mitch had just damaged his truck that had been on the show-room floor forty-eight hours ago. No one knew how to console him. The girls sat quietly in the backseat taking turns glancing at each other and then at Mitch. Kayleigh felt somewhat responsible. She had suggested the drive over the hill. However, she had not suggested the excessive speed.

Mitch turned the corner on the street where he lived. The girls saw his dad standing in the front yard. As Mitch turned into the driveway, the look on his dad’s face turned also. It was a cross between a jack-o-lantern and a zombie. It was a shade of grey the girls hoped they never saw again.

The girls exited the truck and quickly ran to Kayleigh’s car. Kayleigh drove off before Mitch’s dad could say anything. She felt sure that once he started yelling, he wasn’t going to stop for a long time.

Kayleigh took Heather home and then drove home herself. The friends never talked about the incident on the hill again. They also found other ways to entertain themselves.

The Healing Power of Laughter

2013-03-04T10:08:00.000-06:00

There are times when we each need healing. Sometimes it is physical and other times it's emotional. One of the best medicines God gave us is laughter. For far too long, Christians have been viewed as having no sense of humor. That is a completely wrong perception. I didn't even begin laughing until I got saved. Now I laugh all the time. Doesn't that sound wonderful? Well it's not. Sometimes I see humor in something and no one else in the room agrees. Or something that happens in front of me reminds me of something in the past and I start laughing. Do you have any idea what it feels like to be the only one in the room laughing and everyone else is looking at you like you are crazy? It's not fun.

Today I want to share with you one of my favorite Christian comedians. He did not set out to become a comedian and still doesn't consider himself as such. He doesn't tell jokes. Like me, he sees the funny side of life and tells his stories. He visited our former church years ago. I enjoyed his stories then and still do. He told one of these stories to our congregation and it was hilarious. I listened to it today and it is as funny today as it was thirty years ago. I hope you enjoy these.

If you have not done so already, please meet Mark Lowry.

The Soft Side of Hard

2013-03-01T02:30:00.000-06:00

They didn’t come in harder than Carlene. She looked and acted the part. As the old saying goes, she’d go bear hunting with a switch. She was afraid of nothing and no one. Her demeanor and inappropriate language told everyone, ‘back off buddy.’ And everyone did exactly that.

The day she walked her son into Mrs. Abernathy’s first grade class was a memorable one—for Mrs. Abernathy. They couldn’t have been more opposite. Mrs. Abernathy was wearing a conservative dress that fit her personality. Carlene was wearing a spaghetti strap blouse that covered very little. Her short-shorts, which she had been rolled up even higher, showed every curve in her small behind.

Carlene looked at Mrs. Abernathy and without even introducing herself said, "I expect him to behave. If he misbehaves, take care of it. If you can’t take care of it, call me. I work right across the street at the *&$% drive in. Call me and I’ll come over here and beat his *&$%."

As soon as she recovered from the shock, Mrs. Abernathy assured her that he would behave. Tommy was a beautiful child. He was blond with huge brown eyes and long eyelashes. Every time he batted those eyes at Mrs. Abernathy, she melted. She had never seen a child that could look so innocent when he was obviously guilty. He was hyperactive and mischievous. Despite his inappropriate behavior, he was one of Mrs. Abernathy’s favorites. One week he had gotten into so much trouble that Mrs. Abernathy felt exhausted from trying to corral Tommy. Once more he was in trouble. His desk was right in front of Mrs. Abernathy’s to allow the other students to work without interference. Mrs. Abernathy had had enough and the consequences she administered were severe.

Then she sat down at her desk to work. When she looked up, Tommy was sitting in his desk looking at her. He smiled and batted his eyelashes. "Don’t you bat those puppy dog eyes at me." Mrs. Abernathy reprimanded him. She was determined to make him understand that he couldn’t always get out of trouble with is cute looks. Immediately his smile vanished and he ducked his head. Mrs. Abernathy felt a little guilty for causing him pain, yet how long could his troublesome behavior be tolerated?

As she had done for several years, Mrs. Abernathy stopped at the drive-in on the way home for a soft drink. She began to notice that Carlene was bringing her drink out to the car before she ordered it. She was little confused. "How do you know to bring this to me?"

"Well you order the same thing every day. I haven’t had to worry about my son one time this year. You have taken care of the problems and not called me. So I’m going to take care of you. As long as I am here, I’ll be bringing your drink to you. I appreciate you."

"Thank you." Mrs. Abernathy didn’t know anything else to say. This was a soft side of Carlene few people ever saw.

As the year progressed, Mrs. Abernathy saw this side of Carlene more and more often. At the end of the year it was time for Tommy to move on to another teacher. Part of Mrs. Abernathy hated to see him go. He was one of those students that didn’t dislike the person doling out the consequences for his behavior. He understood that the consequences were directly related to his behavior. He didn’t change his behavior. He just accepted the consequences.

Mrs. Abernathy watched with trepidation as Tommy entered second grade. The second grade teachers had a reputation for being tough. It was necessary to be tough with Tommy, but it was also necessary to exercise some patients. Luckily second grade went well. The teacher had grown up with a house full of brothers and understood wiggly little boys perfectly.

Periodically Carlene returned to Mrs. Abernathy’s classroom to report on Tommy and the teacher he had been assigned for the current year. One day Carlene called Mrs. Abernathy out of the classroom.

"I just had a talk with the principal. I don’t like that teacher Tommy has this year. She’s crazy. I told the principal. I said, ‘she’s crazy. You know it and I know it.’ And then I told him that if Tommy gets into trouble she is to bring him to you and let you decide the punishment."

"Tommy has been out of my classroom for several years."

"I don’t care. You are the only one that made him mind. I don’t want that woman deciding his punishment."

"Why? You are tough on him."

"I know I am, but she’s crazy. She’s not fair. You were fair and I want you deciding his punishment."

"What did the principal say?"

"He didn’t say anything. He just sat there looking at me."

"Well if they bring Tommy to me, I’ll take care of the problem."

"Thank you." Carlene left the building.

One day, Mrs. Abernathy drove up to the drive-in and parked in the last available parking spot. She watched as Carlene walked out of the swinging door with a full tray of drinks to be delivered to waiting customers. Carlene looked to the side and saw the teacher parking her car. Immediately she turned back to the swinging door, lifted her leg, gave the door a karate kick, and yelled, "Mrs. Abernathy needs a drink."

Mrs. Abernathy looked into the drive-in and saw every worker inside nodding affirmatively. Apparently when Carlene said jump, they jumped. Several workers rushed to fill the drink for her. Well everyone here knows what I want, Mrs. Abernathy thought. She looked around as every driver in the parking lot looked her way. She was more than a little embarrassed. She did appreciate Carlene’s care, but she would have preferred it be more discreetly.

For twenty-five years Mrs. Abernathy went through the drive-in. Carlene was always there. Soon Mrs. Abernathy learned to appreciate the softer side of the rough, tough Carlene.

The Letter

2013-02-15T10:25:00.004-06:00

Fiction Friday--The Letter

Arlene had been bitter most of her life. She had been mistreated and abused as a child. She had been hurt as a young adult and was never able to recover. Blaming that one incident for all her difficulties, she was an angry, bitter woman. The bitterness had destroyed any close relationship she had attempted. She had many friends, but none that she could count on in a storm. She had had a few romances in her life, but none lasted for very long. After a while they got tired of being around someone who was always upset about something and impossible to please.
Arlene had tried therapy but it seemed like talking about it made her feel worse. She had tried prayer and meditation, but she was unable to maintain a positive attitude for any length of time. Listening to a talk show one morning, she heard someone advise writing a letter to the one who hurt you. In the letter tell them what you think. Don’t hold anything back. Don’t worry about hurting them. Remember, they hurt you first. You would feel better after you got things off your chest. Then the guest speaker advised waiting three days before mailing it. That way you could change your mind if needed or add something.

Arlene thought about it for several days. How could writing a letter help you feel better? After a while she decided that she had nothing to lose, so she set aside time in her schedule, bought some stationary and sat down to write.

Dear Pain Inflicter:

Are you aware of the pain you have caused me in my life? I remember the day you hurt me. I remember every word you said to me. You had never talked to me that way. I stood silently and allowed you to say whatever you wanted. I kept being nice to you because I thought that any minute you would realize you didn’t have to talk me that way. But nothing helped. You just continued to be ugly to me.

How dare you disrespect me like that? How dare you speak to me that way? Were you not aware of how much you were hurting me? Did you not see the pain on my face? You had no right to say the things you did. They were disrespectful, unkind, and humiliating. They made me feel like a piece of trash that you had thrown away.
　
I have cried over this incident long enough. Let me tell you that I think you are despicable, appalling, dreadful, wicked, vile, and loathsome. I wish I had never met you. My life changed for the worse the day you came into it. You think you are hot stuff, but you’re not. You walk around looking like you have all the answers, but don’t forget-- I know better. Oh, you may look good, but I know the real you.

I am so angry at myself for not standing up for myself. I allowed you to berate and belittle me. Now I want to stand up for myself. I did not do what I was accused of doing. I waited because I thought surely you would allow me to defend myself. But NO! You just believed other people and didn’t even consider that they might be lying. I don’t like being falsely accused. But then, if you really thought I was capable of doing what they said, it would have been a waste of my time to explain it anyway.

Here’s what I think. You didn’t believe in me. You didn’t trust me. Therefore, you didn’t deserve my kindness and friendship. So I am through with you. I don’t want to see you. I don’t want to hear from you. I don’t want to speak to you. I don’t even want to think about you. We are done, done, done.
Your former friend,
Arlene
　
　
Arlene folded the letter into thirds and placed it in the addressed envelope. Now I’ll feel better, she thought. She placed the envelope on the mantle of the fireplace and went about her daily tasks—or rather tried to. She couldn’t stop thinking about that letter. She had said exactly what she thought so she should be pleased with herself. But she wasn’t. She wasn’t sure if she felt worse, but she sure didn’t feel any better.

The next morning she took the envelope off the mantle and reread the letter. She felt justified in everything she wrote. The person who had caused her pain deserved everything in that letter. She quickly replaced the letter in the envelope and sealed it so she could not take it out again. Now I’ll feel better, she thought. But she didn’t.

The next morning, still feeling down, she put a stamp on the letter. There, now I have to mail it or waste a stamp. Then she replaced the envelope on the mantle. Still she couldn’t take her mind off the letter. The letter consumed her every thought. Did the other person really deserve that? Whether it was deserved or not, the letter hadn’t brought her the satisfaction she thought it would. She considered opening it and writing more on the letter, but decided against that.

That night was a fitful, restless night. Arlene didn’t sleep at all. She was concerned about why she wasn’t feeling better. According to the expert she should be feeling great. There is no point in mailing the letter if I don’t feel better. She paced the floor for most of the night. She spent several minutes walking in front of the fireplace and looking at the addressed, sealed, and stamped envelope containing a scathing letter that was supposed to make her feel better, but didn’t.
The following morning—mailing day, she was still apprehensive about mailing the letter. She walked out to the mailbox with the envelope in her hand. Suddenly she had an idea. She took a pen out of her pocket and wrote I forgive you on the outside. Instantly she felt better. The expert was right, I do feel better.

Life's Journey

Today's Journey

Strength For Today

Where Love Once Lived

Please Explain

More Or Less a Man-Part III

Antique Tractor Show

Life's Lessons:

My husband and I attended an antique tractor show and I thought I would share some photos.

It took me about ten minutes to see the tractors. It took my husband about three hours. Thank God for my Kindle. My husband and I both enjoyed the day.

More or Less a Man

Elected Offical???

New Facebook Fanpage

Pornography Comes In Many Shapes

More Or Less A Man

Shopping For My Mind

Fiction Friday--Topsy Turvy Ministry

Fiction Friday--Topsy Turvy Ministry

What's Love?

Fiction Friday-Just Visiting

A Lesson From My Heart

Life's Journey

A Lesson From My Heart ​​​​​

Fiction Friday-Year 2345

Fiction Friday

Year 2345

Taco Rice

Recipes From the Heart

Taco Rice

Dirty Shirt

Life's Journey

Dirty Shirt

Fiction Friday--Pardigm Shift

Fiction Friday

Paradigm Shift

Too Many Hypocrites

Life's Journey

Too Many Hypocrites--One Life Lesson

Fiction Friday--Entertainment Hill

The Healing Power of Laughter

The Soft Side of Hard

The Letter

A Lesson From My Heart