REALLY being thankful.

I'm going to a 50th wedding anniversary party Saturday. These two people are precious servants of our church. You can't outgive them, you can't outdo them, and you cannot smile more than them. They love the Lord and they love each other. I'm so privileged to be included in the huge circle of those who have been REALLY blessed by their lives.

My prayer partner is Gail Mashburn. She's six years younger than me, but has the wisdom of Solomon...and humor that matches the wisdom. I am so blessed by her family stories (she REALLY comes from a functional family!) Her grandmother is 94 years old and just keeps on going. I told Gail one day "Look at your heritage!" She exclaimed without hesitation, "Girl, I don't want to live that long!" She says she can be hired out for funerals if anyone needs a professional crier--because she can cry at the drop of a hat. And she also prays, "Thy will be done, God, on earth as it is in heaven." I'm REALLY thankful she's in my life.

My family. My sons, daughter, daughter in law... I am REALLY impressed with all of them. They've all had hardships along the way and yet, in their own way, they have done more than succeed, they've conquered.

My oldest son is a husband, dad and son. He does a good job in all of them. I am REALLY thankful that he grew up to be the man he is today despite bad parenting, poor choices and a mother who just wanted to dote on him instead of letting him go. I told him he was my prototype...I learned to be a parent because of him.

My youngest son is a friend, son and fiancee...he does a good job in all of them. I am REALLY thankful that he climbed mountains that most people refuse to climb, and once he learned the 'lay of the land' learned to live within his boundaries. He beats to a different drummer and I REALLY think that's alright. He lived on hand me downs and the ignorance of a society not quite ready for him.

My daughter is a sweet friend, excellent employee and a darling daughter...and she continues to ace the tests of life. She's independent, yet still needs her mom (which REALLY makes me thankful), she's resilient but not hardened, and she is REALLY everything I wished I could have been in a woman when I was thirty. She learned a long time ago that the motherhood genes had worn out and makes jokes about having to call me by my first name. But she loves me in spite of it all!

I REALLY love my daughter in law like she was my own. She's talented, she's funny, creative, fun-loving and she's good at the task that God has given her. She's REALLY who I wish I had been as a woman and mother.

I REALLY love my grandchildren and am excited that they have been given the freedom by their mom and dad to be who they are. Jack is studious, smart and already the protector of his sister; Thatcher has his arms wide open living and loving life (are we having fun yet?); and Margaret is just beginning to blossom into her own personality. I REALLY can't wait to hug all of them...what a Thanksgiving gift I'm REALLY looking forward to.

I am REALLY thankful that God has been such a constant in my life these last 29 years. I REALLY don't know what I would have done without Him. He has carried me most of my life, and is constantly forgiving me and allowing me to begin at the starting line over and over.

I am...among women... REALLY blessed.

Have a REALLY happy thanksgiving!

In Memory of my Dad

WE CAN REPAIR ANYTHING. (PLEASE KNOCK HARD ON THE DOOR - THE BELL DOESN'T WORK)

Norman S. "Red" Burnett
March 15, 1914 - November 8, 1996

My dad was a mechanic. He just couldn't repair anything in the house.

Dad is celebrating that there's no house repairs in heaven, I am sure!


(pictured (dad, mom, my son Geoff, my brother & sister in law and their children, Rusty, Vickie, Stephen, Jeannie, my younger brother & his wife, Randy & Sonja.)

I wonder why I read the news

I really get angry when I read about parents harming, murdering and maiming their children. I almost get to the point I cannot breathe. I cannot wrap my mind around the fact that a parent has absolutely no thoughts toward the pain they are inflicting...not only on their child, but on their family.

Has our society gotten to the point that we only look out for ourselves...and even the children we've birthed mean nothing? Oh my Lord in Heaven, I hope not!

As a single young mother of three children, I remember being over-whelmed with the tasks at hand. All three in different activities at school and at church. And then one of them would tell me they NEEDED something from the store by tomorrow and I'd have -$150 in my checking account.

There were times my temper probably murdered their spirits...my reactions caused them to feel less than who they were. But it never crossed my mind to end their lives.

Fleeting times I would think about the peace I would have if I wasn't living through the pain and hardship... and thankfully I have found that that is a normal thought for parents who are overwhelmed with the responsibilities in front of them. Never once did I think about inflicting permanent bodily harm on my children.

When does one cross that line? I read on one website: "What makes a parent harm, or even worse, kill the most precious part of them, their children? Is the rage they feel against that child so great that it must manifest itself in so horrible a thing as murder? Why, why, why, we ask? What makes a parent destroy an innocent child, destroy the future of that parent, destroy the lives of the family, and sicken the community?"

In this age of performance is everything (even movie stars' lives are page one news these days) my personal feeling is that we don't think we are fitting the 'norm' and so we become depressed. Then we don't get help and we get depressed further into a valley that seems everlasting.

I'll never forget waking one morning in 1992. Getting my children ready for school and me for work. Sitting down as a family for breakfast and I couldn't swallow. My heart started skipping beats then beating too fast. I kept thinking I was going to die, yet, in front of my children I wanted everything to appear normal. I pushed my breakfast away, because I couldn't swallow. Told the kids I wasn't hungry and went into my room and waited for them to leave for school.

I called my sister in law (thank you Vickie!) and told her I thought I was having a heart attack. She rushed over and took me to the doctor. What a fabulous man. He took time with me and asked me what had been happening in my life. Well...where do I begin?

I had raised 3 children on my own since 1981.
I had a job until I went on vacation for a week and came back and the shop had been sold and I was jobless with no skills.
I slept for 3 months after that until a friend dragged me to JobLink where I realized skills I didn't know I had...computer skills. Didn't want to stop going there, but they placed me in a job at a UMC.
I had no health insurance for me or the kids.
I had one car.
Three different schools...3 PTA meetings,
My oldest son was going to graduate in a few months.
I was 3 months behind on my house payments.
I had bounced about 20 checks just trying to keep up. (now...did that make sense?)
I had creditors calling 24/7.
And I kept going to church, smiling, pretending that life was normal.

And that day...it all caught up with me and I crashed. I crashed very hard. I was as the doctor said "a moment" from a total nervous breakdown.

And I really just wanted to give up, give in and go away. The pressure had finally taken its toll and I wanted to check out of life.

I understand how someone can get to that point. I really do. But it's one thing acting upon the 'uselessness' of it all...it's another thing to resist the urge to lose control. I resisted...and it was one of the hardest things I've ever done in my life.

I really wanted to die. It would have been so easy. I really wanted to hurt someone because I had been hurt so much...it would have been so easy.

And yet...here I am writing about the blackest months of my whole life.

It took 100mg of Zoloft for two years to get me out of that funky place. It took months of Christian counseling to get me to the point that I could climb out of a hole and look around.

During that two years my oldest son announced he had signed up to go into the Air Force (without even discussing it with me...I guess I wasn't hiding it as well as I thought I was-- he knew I was in that hole.)

It was beginning to get black again. But this time, I knew I didn't want to go back to the hopelessness I had felt during the darkest time of my life.

It took two years of clawing and scratching to get my head above water. When I finally admitted I had a problem to my pastor whom I was working for at the time, puzzle pieces that had been missing for so long, began to be found.

I thank God that I could turn to HIM in the middle of my darkness.

And that's what is missing in the world. What a difference it would be if they just knew Jesus.

Chew

Just a pet peeve. It grates my ears to hear someone say 'chew' instead of 'you'. I guess Elvis Presley's "Blue Christmas" started this irritation.

I'll have a Blue Christmas without chew.

Then it was "And I i i i i will always love chew.

I know God knows our hearts, but I can't help but wonder if he pondered it the first time He heard "It's all about chew."

I'm just saying.

Just a year ago.

When grudges are kept...when unmet needs are held close to you like your skin...when your hurts are transferred to those you love...when you haven't asked to be forgiven in reaction to being hurt by someone...These actions form a bottomless pit of dysfunction. You pretend everything is okay...you pretend nothing happened... you act like words weren't said... you pretend you weren't hurt and you truly believe you didn't hurt anyone.

You fill that depth with all kinds of activities, all types of 'entertainment'. You fill that fracture with sexual relationships, food, escaping into books, watching tv, condemnation of others, lies, half-truths ... anything you can do to pretend it's not there.

Sitting on my mother's bed she touched my face and in the words of a mother...too tired to hide her true feelings... she told me she loved me in a way that softened the callouses that had built up around my heart to protect it from being broken.

Something started to thaw. Emptiness was quickly being filled by a real truth. The abyss suddenly began to overflow with the raw awareness of a mother's love.

I remember walking out of the nursing home with the exposed emotions of a little girl. I had waited all my life for my mother to affirm me without the word "but". She only said a few words, but those words to me...for me... were raw, unabashed, unconditional and healing.

As I walked out of the nursing home...having to hold on to my own beloved daughter, I literally wailed and wept. I had so much darkness spilling itself out of me...darkness being filled by love's light. I was so afraid of losing the love I suddenly received I didn't want to breathe...I wanted to hold my breath and keep the love there forever.

Please...don't let life slip by before you give the unconditional lovingkindness someone is waiting for...

Just a year ago I learned this lesson.

Lucky Lady

So Saturday, Sept. 19 Melissa and I drove to Williamsburg, Kentucky. My brother in law is the interim pastor at FBC in Williamsburg (my sister happens to be the ONLY assistant on staff at the same church.) Bob and Norma asked Melissa to sing the special music.

So Melissa and I start the trip and Melissa practices the song she's going to sing. "No Wonder They Call Him The Savior"... a song written by a local music director in South Carolina. I have missed hearing my daughter sing 'live and in person.'

So I began to pull songs out of her CD case and ask her to sing several songs. She sang "Adonai", "Mercy Seat", "I Surrender All" and others... then she pulled out her "Dairy of a Mad Black Woman" soundtrack and sang "Father Can you Hear me?" As I listened to Melissa sing all 4 parts I was reminiscing about the movie. this song was being sung as one little girl's hopes were being fulfilled by being able to sing a solo in church...and then suddenly people's lives were being changed...the hope that changes lives...God showed up... I know it's a fictional movie... but I think events like this happens every day, when we allow God to be God in our lives.

I asked my sister in church this morning "When was the last time you heard God's voice through the Holy Spirit?" I challenged myself to ponder the same question within my life.

I thought about the drive to Kentucky...listening to the songs...praising God through songs. My daughter and I had church as we drove I-75. As we drove I marveled at the clouds, mountains and birds flying in the sky. Did God speak to me? I think He did...through the beautiful songs my daughter was singing...and through His handiwork. I am one lucky lady.

Father can you hear me We need your love today
I know that you are listening you hear men everyday
Father please hear us and we will be OK
father we need you to heal families today

Father can you hear me I'm calling on your name
Not Buddha nor Mohammad but it's Jesus we cry out loud
Father just forgive us Hear us when we say
We'll give ya, give ya, give you everything our lives and souls today

Father you know we need it I've never seen so much pain
We have the faith for now Your victory we will gain
father you know we mean it there's no more heart of stone
were ready for your power now the sin is gone

Lead:Father
Choir: Can you hear me now
(REPEAT 4X's)

Choir: He will say
Lead: He will say yes
Choir: yes, yes, yes, yes

Lead: say yes lord
Choir: yes, yes

Lead: yes to your will Jesus, yes to your will
Choir: yes, yes

Lead: come on say yes
Choir: yes, yes, yes, yes

Ooh Lord can you heal even me lord see I'm comin to you lord just as
I am I'm in need of the blood of the lamb oh my oh my soul say yes

Touching the Face of God

The airplane took off on time in Charlotte on August 29. The skies were clear, sun was shining and at 37,000 feet up in the air, I could still see the structure of earth. The plots between the roads...the grids of the city...and the smoothness of 'uncitified' land. I love the fact that it's all my colors when I get into the sky so high. The earth looks brown and green. Beautiful shades of all those colors. I love that the sky is so blue...different hues make one big sky.

My plane landed in Detroit and I thought about how close my grandchildren were and I couldn't see them. I had one hour before my next flight. Just enough time to run to the gate, eat lunch, take the next dramamine and board the plane.

It was rainy, cloudy and miserable on the ground. But once we got to 'cruising' altitude, we went above the clouds and the sun shone throughout the cabin. I looked down and the browns and greens were not there...hues of white and gray. I imagined when I painted a sky with my water colors how difficult it was to get the right tonal colors to make the shadows...but up here, above the clouds...above the storms... the Master had painted His Masterpiece once more. I envisioned the paintbrush sweeping a little silver here...some purple mixture over here...bright white and yellow were at the end of the sky.

I landed in Manchester New Hampshire in the rain. It had rained 29 of the last 30 days. (I might add, there was absolutely NO RAIN the 9 days I visited New England.)

Those 9 days were full of oohing and aahing about God's handiwork. The White mountains standing so rocky and erect. The sky meeting the mountains. Waterfalls, caves, whales, bear,... the trees right at the stage of changing into the beautiful colors that make autumn. Daily the color changed...maybe it was even hourly the colors of the trees changed. It was an amazing sight.

I rode my first zipline from the top of a mountain to a very abrupt stop at the bottom of the mountain. As I was zipping down so quickly, I held my arms out and allowed God's breath to fill my lungs with the cool crisp taste of perfection. I wanted to feel like that forever. But it was only a minute or two. But I will remember the complete freedom I felt as I let go of solid ground and 'flew' through the air.

The days passed quickly and it was time to go home. The day I left New Hampshire, it began to cloud up to rain. I boarded the plane with just a ginger chew and a prayer. Our plane had to rise above the clouds again. I was amazed at the puffiness of the clouds and the power they had over the riding stability of the plane. I'd see pieces of earth...but mostly just clouds. We landed at the Detroit Airport at 6:35 p.m....which was the same time my departing plane was loading on the other side of the airport. I ran to the moving sidewalks, walked fast down them and was the last person loaded onto the plane before they closed the doors.

There were thunderstorms in the area. And again, we cruised above the storms. But this time, the clouds were gray and ominous. Suddenly out of nowhere was a huge white cloud in the middle of all the grays. There was such peace, even as the plane rocked back and forth because of the wind, rain and storm. Tears overwhlemed me. In the middle of a storm He always shows Himself. I knew I had seen the face of God...

Disturb us, Lord, when
We are too well pleased with ourselves,
When our dreams have come true
Because we have dreamed too little,
When we arrived safely
Because we sailed too close to the shore.

Disturb us, Lord, when
With the abundance of things we possess
We have lost our thirst
For the waters of life;
Having fallen in love with life,
We have ceased to dream of eternity
And in our efforts to build a new earth,
We have allowed our vision
Of the new Heaven to dim.

Disturb us, Lord, to dare more boldly,
To venture on wider seas
Where storms will show your mastery;
Where losing sight of land,
We shall find the stars.
We ask You to push back
The horizons of our hopes;
And to push into the future
In strength, courage, hope, and love.
[Sir Francis Drake]