My blog has been so serious lately, I decided to bring a little levity into it. I was reading a story in the latest Redbook magazine, and I remembered something that happened in 1973...and I started laughing all over again. I hope I can describe it so that you will at least smile!
I was pregnant with my first child...mom and dad owned a "cabin" on Lake Bistineau (for those of you not from Louisiana it's pronounced Bist-in-no'). Dad had bought a "houseboat"...using that term loosely because only one person could fit in the "house" part. It was really a boat with a camper shell on it.
Dad, Mom and I decided to go fishing on a sunny summer day. (My husband had joined the military so he was in basic training.)
With my mom, it was either all or nothing. Several times while dad was guiding the boat through all the cypress knees, mom would get a dramatic 'nibble' on her line. Dad would scream "Jerk it, Wilda" and each time, my mom would slowly pull up the line to have no worm left on the hook.
Mom refused to bait her hook, so dad or I would have to bait it for her. Dad got so frustrated he refused to bait it anymore, so I started baiting hers and my hooks while dad kept running into cypress knees. Two times dad ran into the same trunk of a tree filled with bees...and I laughingly suggested to mom that dad was trying to get her stung. Well...she decided that was what dad was trying to do...and at the same time, she was getting another nibble all her hook.
Dad was yelling "jerk it &(*&(#^W&* (his favortie curse word) and mom did.
Now I was sitting on top of the "camper shell" house on the boat and this is what I witnessed.
Mom jerked her line so hard that as she did...there was a small piece of fish on her hook going over the top of all of us, and a huge part of a fish fell back into the lake.
From my eyes it looked like mom literally jerked that poor fish's head off. And I started laughing. It became so infectious, that Mom started laughing trying to get her line untangled from a bush behind her...
I was lying on the cabin shell by this time thinking I was LITERALLY going to die laughing...mom was laughing so hard that she couldn't see what she was doing...and my dad was trying to untangle the line and now the pole wrapped around a cypress knee while we ran back into the trunk of tree that had the bees in it...
which just got funnier. I don't think I've ever laughed that hard in my whole life...to the point of breathlessness.
Well...it turned out that mom had caught a tiny bream...just a baby (which she killed by slamming the poor thing into the tree behind us). A Gar had been trying to eat the little bream as mom jerked the line up out of the water....
for just a moment there... it would have been one of the greatest fish stories ever...and we all lived without one bee sting.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Pride or Righteous Indignation?
When something bothers me to the point of anger...I know I must take it to the Lord. I need to find out if that anger is pride motivated or "righteous indignation."
If it is pride motivated...then "shut my mouth" I always tell my Father in heaven. If it is indeed righteous anger, please don't let pride come between me and the person that has caused me to be upset.
If the person who is telling me that God has changed her/him in such a way and I ought to follow their lead yet they are dilly-dallying in worldly practices, I question that they can teach me, show me or even convince me that what they are doing is "God-deemed". And now I make one more appeal, my dear brothers and sisters. Watch out for people who cause divisions and upset people’s faith by teaching things contrary to what you have been taught. Stay away from them. Such people are not serving Christ our Lord; they are serving their own personal interests. By smooth talk and glowing words they deceive innocent people. (Romans 16)
One of the things I try not to say is "The Lord told me to share this with you." I truly believe God speaks through His Holy Spirit through the Bible, Prayer, Circumstances and the church to motivate, change, encourage and reprimand us as individuals. (Thank you Henry Blackaby). Now people have asked me what I think God is saying...and if you know me...you know I always have an opinion! When someone comes to me with a problem and I pray with/for them, then that day or a few days later I read something in the Word or in my devotional that awakens the spirit within me, I will share those words with someone and say "This is what God told me and I wanted you to hear it because I think it will help your situation." But I need to remember to use caution in saying "God told me to share this with you." No...God was telling me...not the other person.
Conversely--I think of David's sin with Bathsheba --how God separated Himself from David because of David's refusal to accept responsibility for his sin. Nathan came and didn't accuse David...he told a parable. When David became aware of the horror of this suggested person's sin, that's when God used Nathan to say..."it is you." There was no slap on the face, no screaming at him to get his attention...no piousness on Nathan's part to be the deliverer of the message--I am sure Nathan did not want to go to his king and be this messenger. But notice, Nathan does not say "God told me to share this with you." Nathan allowed God to use his mouth...but did not allow pride to come between the words. This is a whole 'nuther' blog.
As fellow sinners, we need to use much caution as we hold on to our own causes, creeds and "God changes" in our lives. That's where God has YOU...not me. I may not be ready to accept the teaching that is so prevalent in someone else's life...and visa versa... the things I've learned through trials, hardships, quiet times of sitting in God's lap...they are for me. They are my lessons; and even though I feel that everyone needs to learn my lessons...that's my pride...making me a god in my own eyes. When God speaks to me He is telling ME that this is the change for MY life...and maybe perhaps as I change my wicked ways, people will notice, and thereby be changed. But telling people how they ought to change "like me" and receive the "blessings" I've received... THAT is pride...
Let God be God in my life...and let me learn the lessons in His timing...not in someone elses.
If it is pride motivated...then "shut my mouth" I always tell my Father in heaven. If it is indeed righteous anger, please don't let pride come between me and the person that has caused me to be upset.
If the person who is telling me that God has changed her/him in such a way and I ought to follow their lead yet they are dilly-dallying in worldly practices, I question that they can teach me, show me or even convince me that what they are doing is "God-deemed". And now I make one more appeal, my dear brothers and sisters. Watch out for people who cause divisions and upset people’s faith by teaching things contrary to what you have been taught. Stay away from them. Such people are not serving Christ our Lord; they are serving their own personal interests. By smooth talk and glowing words they deceive innocent people. (Romans 16)
One of the things I try not to say is "The Lord told me to share this with you." I truly believe God speaks through His Holy Spirit through the Bible, Prayer, Circumstances and the church to motivate, change, encourage and reprimand us as individuals. (Thank you Henry Blackaby). Now people have asked me what I think God is saying...and if you know me...you know I always have an opinion! When someone comes to me with a problem and I pray with/for them, then that day or a few days later I read something in the Word or in my devotional that awakens the spirit within me, I will share those words with someone and say "This is what God told me and I wanted you to hear it because I think it will help your situation." But I need to remember to use caution in saying "God told me to share this with you." No...God was telling me...not the other person.
Conversely--I think of David's sin with Bathsheba --how God separated Himself from David because of David's refusal to accept responsibility for his sin. Nathan came and didn't accuse David...he told a parable. When David became aware of the horror of this suggested person's sin, that's when God used Nathan to say..."it is you." There was no slap on the face, no screaming at him to get his attention...no piousness on Nathan's part to be the deliverer of the message--I am sure Nathan did not want to go to his king and be this messenger. But notice, Nathan does not say "God told me to share this with you." Nathan allowed God to use his mouth...but did not allow pride to come between the words. This is a whole 'nuther' blog.
As fellow sinners, we need to use much caution as we hold on to our own causes, creeds and "God changes" in our lives. That's where God has YOU...not me. I may not be ready to accept the teaching that is so prevalent in someone else's life...and visa versa... the things I've learned through trials, hardships, quiet times of sitting in God's lap...they are for me. They are my lessons; and even though I feel that everyone needs to learn my lessons...that's my pride...making me a god in my own eyes. When God speaks to me He is telling ME that this is the change for MY life...and maybe perhaps as I change my wicked ways, people will notice, and thereby be changed. But telling people how they ought to change "like me" and receive the "blessings" I've received... THAT is pride...
Let God be God in my life...and let me learn the lessons in His timing...not in someone elses.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Words That Heal
If you know my testimony, you know growing up was difficult. I've been through counseling went to many Adult Children of Alcoholics meetings and had many friends who listened to me. I also wrote many of my frustrations out in diaries.
Thank goodness God is in the business of changing us. There's no way I would want to be that girl that had to deal with all the grief, sadness, rejection and abuse that took years to get past.
But this one thing I know...a phrase, a look, a touch and being real changes things.
Needless to say, my relationship with my parents was always slightly strained. God walked me through learning how to forgive them...many times I handed my parents my heart...many times I walked away empty-handed, many times I walked away in tears. Most times I walked away with my head up, knowing that I would never give up on either one of them.
I never stopped giving my heart to them. Not out of wanting it to hurt again, but out of the pure love that God poured into me as He continued to show me what I needed to change about me...what I could do different...how I could respond to the sometimes careless, thoughtless words and actions. God continued to show me that what I do with His love is even worse than what my parents did to me.
Through the years, my heart became so soft toward my parents, that it was easy to give it to them. Mostly, I could look beyond their words and see the pain that caused them to feel, react, or act the way they did.
In Dad's later years, he would come to the church I worked at in Shreveport and just sit there. He wanted me to just go about all my work. His words still echo softly in my ears, "Baby, I just want to be near you." My dad always called me his baby. I always thought my dad was immortal...I never thought he'd get sick...never thought I'd live on without him.
My dad's last words to me were "Baby, I'm so proud of what you're about to do." I didn't get it then. I smiled at him and told him I'd see him after he got out of the operating room. He never lived past the time they brought him out. And I think of those powerful affirming words my dad gave me. Words that heal.
In my mom's later years, I had grown up a little, realizing that she was not strong enough to be immortal. I knew one day she would leave this world. I would listen to her words of condemnation about my brothers my sister, her one friend, the neighbors. She was so very unhappy. However, within me there was a knowledge of her deep core of woundedness. I learned to listen between the bitterness and hear a little girl just wanting to be loved, wanting to be accepted and wanting to make a difference in someone's life.
The last time my mom clearly spoke to me, I was sitting on her bed. Just her and me. She spoke in an unknown language---every once in a while I could glean a word. Realizing she was speaking the Lord's prayer, I started saying it with her and she said "YES! YES!" After we were done, I told her that she could go be with Jesus anytime she wanted. In a clear, concise voice she looked at me and said, "I don't want to go."
My mom always me told that she hated that I didn't have any family with me in North Carolina. She didn't like the fact that no one would 'protect' me if someone broke into my house. She didn't want me to not have a husband to lean on when times got rough.
I asked "Why, mom, Why don't you want to go be with Jesus? There will be peace and no pain. You'll be happy and God will be there."
At that moment, she looked square in my eyes and said, "I don't want to leave you alone."
True words spoken from a mother's heart. Words that heal.
God welcomed my mother on October 7, 2008. No more pain, no more sorrow, praise God she has broken free.
Thank goodness God is in the business of changing us. There's no way I would want to be that girl that had to deal with all the grief, sadness, rejection and abuse that took years to get past.
But this one thing I know...a phrase, a look, a touch and being real changes things.
Needless to say, my relationship with my parents was always slightly strained. God walked me through learning how to forgive them...many times I handed my parents my heart...many times I walked away empty-handed, many times I walked away in tears. Most times I walked away with my head up, knowing that I would never give up on either one of them.
I never stopped giving my heart to them. Not out of wanting it to hurt again, but out of the pure love that God poured into me as He continued to show me what I needed to change about me...what I could do different...how I could respond to the sometimes careless, thoughtless words and actions. God continued to show me that what I do with His love is even worse than what my parents did to me.
Through the years, my heart became so soft toward my parents, that it was easy to give it to them. Mostly, I could look beyond their words and see the pain that caused them to feel, react, or act the way they did.
In Dad's later years, he would come to the church I worked at in Shreveport and just sit there. He wanted me to just go about all my work. His words still echo softly in my ears, "Baby, I just want to be near you." My dad always called me his baby. I always thought my dad was immortal...I never thought he'd get sick...never thought I'd live on without him.
My dad's last words to me were "Baby, I'm so proud of what you're about to do." I didn't get it then. I smiled at him and told him I'd see him after he got out of the operating room. He never lived past the time they brought him out. And I think of those powerful affirming words my dad gave me. Words that heal.
In my mom's later years, I had grown up a little, realizing that she was not strong enough to be immortal. I knew one day she would leave this world. I would listen to her words of condemnation about my brothers my sister, her one friend, the neighbors. She was so very unhappy. However, within me there was a knowledge of her deep core of woundedness. I learned to listen between the bitterness and hear a little girl just wanting to be loved, wanting to be accepted and wanting to make a difference in someone's life.
The last time my mom clearly spoke to me, I was sitting on her bed. Just her and me. She spoke in an unknown language---every once in a while I could glean a word. Realizing she was speaking the Lord's prayer, I started saying it with her and she said "YES! YES!" After we were done, I told her that she could go be with Jesus anytime she wanted. In a clear, concise voice she looked at me and said, "I don't want to go."
My mom always me told that she hated that I didn't have any family with me in North Carolina. She didn't like the fact that no one would 'protect' me if someone broke into my house. She didn't want me to not have a husband to lean on when times got rough.
I asked "Why, mom, Why don't you want to go be with Jesus? There will be peace and no pain. You'll be happy and God will be there."
At that moment, she looked square in my eyes and said, "I don't want to leave you alone."
True words spoken from a mother's heart. Words that heal.
God welcomed my mother on October 7, 2008. No more pain, no more sorrow, praise God she has broken free.
Sunday, November 9, 2008
honestly
Could I let go of all that you've given
If it meant that it all would be yours
Could I sit at your feet? And forget about me
And remember what I’m here for?
Honestly I need to be broken
Honestly I need to fall down
Go ahead and shake my foundation
Cause honestly I'm figuring out
That out of all that I have
All that I need is you
Honestly
If I leave behind all that’s familiar
Can I do what has never been done?
If I believe in you like you believe in me
Can you finish the work you begun?
Honestly I need to be broken
Honestly I need to fall down
Go ahead and shake my foundation
Cause honestly I'm figuring out
That out of all that I have
All that I need is you
Honestly
You’re all that I want
You’re all that I need
I heard the words to this Carl Cartee song about 3 months ago. I've got the song in my CD player in my car...and I keep listening to it.
My heart's desire is to be honest in front of God. Listening to these words makes me realize still how far I have to go.
~O~
If it meant that it all would be yours
Could I sit at your feet? And forget about me
And remember what I’m here for?
Honestly I need to be broken
Honestly I need to fall down
Go ahead and shake my foundation
Cause honestly I'm figuring out
That out of all that I have
All that I need is you
Honestly
If I leave behind all that’s familiar
Can I do what has never been done?
If I believe in you like you believe in me
Can you finish the work you begun?
Honestly I need to be broken
Honestly I need to fall down
Go ahead and shake my foundation
Cause honestly I'm figuring out
That out of all that I have
All that I need is you
Honestly
You’re all that I want
You’re all that I need
I heard the words to this Carl Cartee song about 3 months ago. I've got the song in my CD player in my car...and I keep listening to it.
My heart's desire is to be honest in front of God. Listening to these words makes me realize still how far I have to go.
~O~
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Pondering
Two mornings in a row I've woken up at exactly 4:52 a.m. Both mornings pain has woken me up.
You see, I was rear-ended in my car two weeks ago tomorrow . . . and even though my car wasn't damaged much, my body has taken a toll.
My chiropractor said I was 'askew'. My neck and back have hurt in ways I would have never imagined...and if that wasn't enough...
My right wrist has begun to 'tingle.' There's a certain way I can move it that causes a pain to shoot down through my fingers and up through my shoulder. It causes me to tear up and stop everything, stand in one place and say "ow" very loud all by myself.
My doctor says it's a 3 word something. We're using some kind of sonor treatment that puts deep heating down into the very nerve fiber of the area...and then I sit like a little old lady with an ice pack on it in the evenings....
But these last two mornings, the annoying pain has woke me up...
and it's so quiet outside. All I hear is the humming of my refrigerator...but other than that it's so quiet.
Slowly as it closes into 6 a.m. I can hear people stirring...the mother and daughter who live below me start their morning slamming doors and anything else they can slam. I believe they live with a lot of frustration... if anyone has ever been to my condo they know just how hard these women shut their front door.... it shakes my whole condo.
They like to check to see if the paper has come...at 5:45 a.m., 5:50 a.m., 5:55 a.m. until it usually comes around 6:30 a.m. The paper has arrived at 6:30 a.m. for the past four years...they don't seem to know that...I don't understand why they don't.
Then I think how alone I am. No, I'm not lonely...I'm just alone. Sometimes I am so happy that I can be at my leisure...but sometimes I wish someone else was here to hear me say 'ow'.
You see, I was rear-ended in my car two weeks ago tomorrow . . . and even though my car wasn't damaged much, my body has taken a toll.
My chiropractor said I was 'askew'. My neck and back have hurt in ways I would have never imagined...and if that wasn't enough...
My right wrist has begun to 'tingle.' There's a certain way I can move it that causes a pain to shoot down through my fingers and up through my shoulder. It causes me to tear up and stop everything, stand in one place and say "ow" very loud all by myself.
My doctor says it's a 3 word something. We're using some kind of sonor treatment that puts deep heating down into the very nerve fiber of the area...and then I sit like a little old lady with an ice pack on it in the evenings....
But these last two mornings, the annoying pain has woke me up...
and it's so quiet outside. All I hear is the humming of my refrigerator...but other than that it's so quiet.
Slowly as it closes into 6 a.m. I can hear people stirring...the mother and daughter who live below me start their morning slamming doors and anything else they can slam. I believe they live with a lot of frustration... if anyone has ever been to my condo they know just how hard these women shut their front door.... it shakes my whole condo.
They like to check to see if the paper has come...at 5:45 a.m., 5:50 a.m., 5:55 a.m. until it usually comes around 6:30 a.m. The paper has arrived at 6:30 a.m. for the past four years...they don't seem to know that...I don't understand why they don't.
Then I think how alone I am. No, I'm not lonely...I'm just alone. Sometimes I am so happy that I can be at my leisure...but sometimes I wish someone else was here to hear me say 'ow'.
Sunday, October 26, 2008
I cannot believe that in two weeks my baby will be 30 years old. I remember when I was 30 and my mom was 54...she seemed so old to me. I wonder how old I seem to my daughter (and even my two sons!)
I don't feel 54 in my mind. I shudder to think in about 13 years I'll be "retirement" age, and I haven't succeeded to made a mark ... I haven't had my 15 minutes of fame for helping someone, for being a good citizen, for making a difference in my part of the world... and yet...
All three of my children know Christ. That in itself is something I should proclaim from the mountaintops.
When my children were young, I remember them thinking I was "one of those crazy, zealous Christians." I remember one evening taking each one of them separately into my bedroom and anointing them and giving them to God. I had olive oil and my NASB Bible that is still so dear to me---and I prayed.
In my Bible on May 15, 1988 I wrote "My children's anointing" at
Hebrews 12:12-15 "Therefore, strengthen your feeble arms and weak knees. Make level paths for your feet, so that the lame may not be disabled, but rather healed. Make every effort to live in peace with all men and to be holy; without holiness no one will see the Lord. See to it that no one misses the grace of God and that no bitter root grows up to cause trouble and defile many."
I prayed that my children would have godly wives and husband. I prayed that they would make wise choices and I prayed that they would never ever forget the prayers that their mother sent up each night for them.
I don't feel 54 in my mind. I shudder to think in about 13 years I'll be "retirement" age, and I haven't succeeded to made a mark ... I haven't had my 15 minutes of fame for helping someone, for being a good citizen, for making a difference in my part of the world... and yet...
All three of my children know Christ. That in itself is something I should proclaim from the mountaintops.
When my children were young, I remember them thinking I was "one of those crazy, zealous Christians." I remember one evening taking each one of them separately into my bedroom and anointing them and giving them to God. I had olive oil and my NASB Bible that is still so dear to me---and I prayed.
In my Bible on May 15, 1988 I wrote "My children's anointing" at
Hebrews 12:12-15 "Therefore, strengthen your feeble arms and weak knees. Make level paths for your feet, so that the lame may not be disabled, but rather healed. Make every effort to live in peace with all men and to be holy; without holiness no one will see the Lord. See to it that no one misses the grace of God and that no bitter root grows up to cause trouble and defile many."
I prayed that my children would have godly wives and husband. I prayed that they would make wise choices and I prayed that they would never ever forget the prayers that their mother sent up each night for them.
"God sustain the roots that my children have been raised with...remind them Who they belong to. Give them wisdom to make the right decisions and remind them how safe they are in your everlasting arms. Help my children to stand firm in what they know about You. Help them to seek Your face dear God as they make life decisions. In Jesus' name I ask, Amen."
Some of my prayers have been answered... some of my prayers have been repeated over and over as satan dealt his vicious blows when my children were weak. Some of my prayers were reminding God what I prayed for so many years ago when I wept over my children's precious heads. Today, I read about God's amazing grace in Joel 2:25-27, "I will repay you for the years the locusts have eaten—the great locust and the young locust, the other locusts and the locust swarm —my great army that I sent among you. You will have plenty to eat, until you are full, and you will praise the name of the LORD your God, who has worked wonders for you; never again will my people be shamed. Then you will know that I am in Israel, that I am the LORD your God, and that there is no other; never again will my people be shamed."
I trusted God with the hearts, minds and bodies to my children then and now I pray the same prayer for my grandchildren. I adore God's choice for my godly son... a wife who is strong in the Lord...and my grandchildren are being raised by a daddy and momma who depend on God.
I cannot wait to see what God will do with the unanswered prayers that are still out there. I wait with 'tiptoes of expectancy'.
Friday, October 24, 2008
My Favorite Time
It's 12:45 a.m. . . yes that's 45 minutes past midnight. This is not my favorite time. I should be sleeping, but that's sporatic for me. One night a great night of no movements, just sleep...then the next night, lying in bed feeling every twitch of muscles, feeling and hearing my heartbeat and wondering why my body is so busy and noisy.
I was in a car wreck last Friday. As I approached the cars in front of me, realizing they were all getting out of the way of each other, I did the same. As I stopped I leaned forward turned my head and part of my body to the right to try to get into the right hand lane to avoid the apparent 'pile up' and then WHAM my car is hit... I feel my car go up in the air and then back down again and I'm thinking CRAP. That was not my favorite time.
At work about an hour after the accident, my head starts hurting. My neck is aching and I'm thinking 'oh no I think I'm hurt.'
I call my chiropractor Dr. David Arpin, he is able to see me that afternoon. We do all types of tests to make sure my head is still attached to my body and I don't have breakage, and then he does what he does best and relieves the pain by pushing, shoving and adjusting .. then electrical stimulation to my neck and back muscles to help the healing process. This is not my favorite time.
After several calls to the other's insurance company, I'm finally getting my car looked at on Saturday. The agent doesn't know the name of the business and he doesn't have a phone number, but he told me the address on Patton Avenue...and who in their right mind wants to travel down Patton at any time of the day. Not me. But I'll go and it won't be my favorite time.
Then the agent wants to meet with me to discuss 'closing' the physical aspect of this claim. And I'm thinking the way my body feels right now, I'm a far cry from closing any thing. And that won't be my favorite time either. I am really hurting and I'm not quite ready to let someone dismiss my pain just so an insurance company can keep their money so the top execs can go on a round the world cruise.
I'll try to go to bed in a little while...just took a pain pill hoping it will take the edge off this uncomfortable ache from the top of my head to the middle of my back... and this is not my favorite time.
My alarm will go off at exactly 6:11 a.m. this morning, and I would be wakened up from a drug induced sleep, not wanting to get up...but knowing I have to. The coffee maker will start brewing my coffee at exactly 6:12 a.m., which will entice me to get out of bed. I'll get my clothes that I'll wear to work, slide myself into a nice warm shower... dry off, get dressed, pour my coffee, 2 spoonfuls of Xylitol, about as much cream as coffee, a glass of orange juice, my calcium and multivitamins slide down my throat. I pour my Chex cereal into a bowl pour the hormone free 1% milk on top and sit at my table.... and read God's word. What does He want to tell me in just 5 short hours from now? What will I glean from His wondrous words? What will I begin to ponder the rest of the day?
The crunching of the cereal is gone. I sit for just a moment and just be
quiet. Teach me God, show me Lord, help me to hear You.
This is my favorite time of the day.
I was in a car wreck last Friday. As I approached the cars in front of me, realizing they were all getting out of the way of each other, I did the same. As I stopped I leaned forward turned my head and part of my body to the right to try to get into the right hand lane to avoid the apparent 'pile up' and then WHAM my car is hit... I feel my car go up in the air and then back down again and I'm thinking CRAP. That was not my favorite time.
At work about an hour after the accident, my head starts hurting. My neck is aching and I'm thinking 'oh no I think I'm hurt.'
I call my chiropractor Dr. David Arpin, he is able to see me that afternoon. We do all types of tests to make sure my head is still attached to my body and I don't have breakage, and then he does what he does best and relieves the pain by pushing, shoving and adjusting .. then electrical stimulation to my neck and back muscles to help the healing process. This is not my favorite time.
After several calls to the other's insurance company, I'm finally getting my car looked at on Saturday. The agent doesn't know the name of the business and he doesn't have a phone number, but he told me the address on Patton Avenue...and who in their right mind wants to travel down Patton at any time of the day. Not me. But I'll go and it won't be my favorite time.
Then the agent wants to meet with me to discuss 'closing' the physical aspect of this claim. And I'm thinking the way my body feels right now, I'm a far cry from closing any thing. And that won't be my favorite time either. I am really hurting and I'm not quite ready to let someone dismiss my pain just so an insurance company can keep their money so the top execs can go on a round the world cruise.
I'll try to go to bed in a little while...just took a pain pill hoping it will take the edge off this uncomfortable ache from the top of my head to the middle of my back... and this is not my favorite time.
My alarm will go off at exactly 6:11 a.m. this morning, and I would be wakened up from a drug induced sleep, not wanting to get up...but knowing I have to. The coffee maker will start brewing my coffee at exactly 6:12 a.m., which will entice me to get out of bed. I'll get my clothes that I'll wear to work, slide myself into a nice warm shower... dry off, get dressed, pour my coffee, 2 spoonfuls of Xylitol, about as much cream as coffee, a glass of orange juice, my calcium and multivitamins slide down my throat. I pour my Chex cereal into a bowl pour the hormone free 1% milk on top and sit at my table.... and read God's word. What does He want to tell me in just 5 short hours from now? What will I glean from His wondrous words? What will I begin to ponder the rest of the day?
The crunching of the cereal is gone. I sit for just a moment and just be
quiet. Teach me God, show me Lord, help me to hear You.This is my favorite time of the day.
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