" . . . he would go home to his room. He would lie in the bed and finally, with daylight, he would go to sleep. After all, he said to himself, it is probably only insomnia. Many must have it." So ends Hemingway's famous short story, "A Clean, Well Lighted Place."
Many do have it. Who has not lain awake at night struggling to go to sleep? Who has not awakened in the dead of night, wide-eyed and unable to go back to sleep? We all have. The reasons for our having insomnia are probably as diverse and complex as each of us is, so I am not as much concerned about analyzing why we are victims of insomnia as I am with trying to decide how to deal positively with it.
What to do about it? Well, first of all, don't panic! That is what I used to do --always. I looked at the clock. It was 2:00 a.m. and then 3:00 a.m. and I knew I had to be awake at 6:00 a.m. I thrashed and turned and twisted and desperately tried to force myself to "go to sleep." Never worked. Simply got me into a worse state with tightened muscles and stiff lips.
So I began to think about what else I could do. First, I decided to relax."So it is 2:00 a.m. So what? Tomorrow at this time it will be 2:00 a.m. again, and I will probably be sleeping like a baby." That's a comforting thought and helps me be more philosophical about this immediate situation.
As I try to be creative, various remedies suggested by other people ramble through my mind and are discarded, one by one. Warm milk? No, thanks. Something to eat? Not hungry. Hot cuppa tea with chamomile? Ugh!
But, over time, here are two things I have tried that did work for me.
One: I get out of bed, shrug into a comfortable robe, and, depending on the season of the year I sit down somewhere. In the springtime, I slip outside on to the patio. I look up in the clear spring night at the moon radiating a soft glow over trees and shrubs, throwing interesting shadows around the area, pull up a comfortable lawn chair, and sit there. Just sit there. I sit for a considerable period of time and just let my thoughts flow over and around me. I don't worry trying to sort things out, or find solutions to problems, or do anything. I just sit there,enjoying the aloneness, the quietness, the beauty of the night.
In the winter I sit in my comfortable bedroom chair. And I do the same thing: I just sit. I let my thoughts go where they will. Sometimes my mind flits into the past and I think of lovely things that have happened to me. Occasionally, I wonder about the future, but not for long. The present is much more interesting. Sometimes I talk to God about friends or situations that concern me, or better still, I just talk to God.
The second thing? Well, this is a tricky one and I use it only very, very seldom because it involves another person, and that person must be a very special friend. And it can only be used for "early night insomnia." Never try it after midnight!
But if I am awake at twelve o'clock, this is what I have occasionally done in the past. I call this Very Special Friend and the conversation usually goes something like this:
Me: "Hi, Agnes, are you awake?
Her: "I am now, the phone just rang and woke me up."
Me: "Oh, yeah.(Pause) Well, I'm okay; no serious problem here."
Her: "I see." (an annoyed voice) "You just felt the need to call someone at midnight?
Me: "Not just someone, Agnes, YOU. You are my special friend, y'know."
Her: "Oh, yeah! (slighty mollified tone) Well, then just tell me why you called this Special Friend.
Me: "I can't sleep, and (hurridly) I justneedsomeonetotalkto."
Her: "Okay, okay, let's Talk, Friend."
And we did. For about 45 minutes. Then she hung up.
And I felt marvelous. Actually, I don't remember much about what we had talked about, but the end result was that I was happy and relaxed and I flopped over and was asleep in five minutes.
So. What about Insomnia? What about Sleep?
Both are a part of our human experience, and we can use both of these phenomena to our advantage. Can't sleep? Use the time to think and enrich your mind, to be thankful and enrich your spirit, to meditate and marvel at the life you have been given. Can sleep? Be grateful and enjoy it!!!
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Bits and Piecers
I have decided I will write more blogs this year. I am doing it just for myself because I enjoy writing and trying to express some of the ideas that roll in and out of my brain periodically. Some thoughts are fairly inane (how cute my pet dog is), or more thoughtful, (how lucky I was to get this cute dog) or more profound, (did God have something to do with my getting this cute, loveable dog?)
What I like to do is set up questions or make comments or present arguments or just "get something off my chest" by writing about it. There is something theraupetic for me about "writing down the word."
Here are some questions I would like to discuss with myself: What kind of a God do I believe in? Why do I find it easier to like, even love, people of all kinds now than I used to? How do I make meaningful the limited time I have left in the world? (This is not a morbid thought; it is a realistic one) Why do some people have such horrible, tragic lives, while others are so obviously blessed with good lives? What are some things that make me really, really, angry? How do I walk the narrow line between being controlled by a desire to make people like me, and the
desire to be just who I am, warts and all?
I could go on and on, and probably will as long as I have the mind and physical strength to get to the computer and expound.
Okay? Okay. Now how about them dreams I have been having? I seem to have dreams all alike coming in clusters and lasting for a long period of time. Only 4 years ago up until about this past year, I constantly had nightmare dreams of someone trying to kill me. I would wake up Bill with my frenzied screaming as a monster person was slashing at me with a huge knife. Sometimes I was in my house, trying frantically to close all doors and windows before the destroyer (sometimes the Mafia) got to me. I could never make the house safe; I was always about to be killed.
Then this past year I have been dreaming that I am back in college, trying to get to my class before the students leave, and i laboriously plod along, not even sure where my classroom is, until, exhausted and worn, I get there and all the students are gone. Or I am back in grad school, and I am heading for an exam and I have never opened the textbook to study.
It is getting crazier. Last night I dreamed I had a part in a play that was to be presented to a large audience. I had NOT read the play, I COULD not move my legs and arms to get me moving toward the theatre, some good folks came for me and got my clothes ready for me to put on, which I was barely able to do and while I was telling them that I had no idea of what I was supposed to say. They gave me a printed copy of my dialog, pushed me on toward the theatre, but as I tried desperately to walk, my shoes were coming apart and the printed manuscript had dissolved into ashes. I got there, desperate and hurting all over, and decided since I had no idea of what to say I would just act like "an idiot old woman" and hope for the best. THEN I WOKE UP. Now just figure that one out, if you can.
P.S. My Christian friends remind me that God uses dreams in the Bible to get his message to human beings. If that is true today then would you like to know my conclusion to the whole matter? Simple. "I ain't no human being. I must be an alien who wandered in from outer space."
That's it, folks. Goodnite and pleasant dreams?
What I like to do is set up questions or make comments or present arguments or just "get something off my chest" by writing about it. There is something theraupetic for me about "writing down the word."
Here are some questions I would like to discuss with myself: What kind of a God do I believe in? Why do I find it easier to like, even love, people of all kinds now than I used to? How do I make meaningful the limited time I have left in the world? (This is not a morbid thought; it is a realistic one) Why do some people have such horrible, tragic lives, while others are so obviously blessed with good lives? What are some things that make me really, really, angry? How do I walk the narrow line between being controlled by a desire to make people like me, and the
desire to be just who I am, warts and all?
I could go on and on, and probably will as long as I have the mind and physical strength to get to the computer and expound.
Okay? Okay. Now how about them dreams I have been having? I seem to have dreams all alike coming in clusters and lasting for a long period of time. Only 4 years ago up until about this past year, I constantly had nightmare dreams of someone trying to kill me. I would wake up Bill with my frenzied screaming as a monster person was slashing at me with a huge knife. Sometimes I was in my house, trying frantically to close all doors and windows before the destroyer (sometimes the Mafia) got to me. I could never make the house safe; I was always about to be killed.
Then this past year I have been dreaming that I am back in college, trying to get to my class before the students leave, and i laboriously plod along, not even sure where my classroom is, until, exhausted and worn, I get there and all the students are gone. Or I am back in grad school, and I am heading for an exam and I have never opened the textbook to study.
It is getting crazier. Last night I dreamed I had a part in a play that was to be presented to a large audience. I had NOT read the play, I COULD not move my legs and arms to get me moving toward the theatre, some good folks came for me and got my clothes ready for me to put on, which I was barely able to do and while I was telling them that I had no idea of what I was supposed to say. They gave me a printed copy of my dialog, pushed me on toward the theatre, but as I tried desperately to walk, my shoes were coming apart and the printed manuscript had dissolved into ashes. I got there, desperate and hurting all over, and decided since I had no idea of what to say I would just act like "an idiot old woman" and hope for the best. THEN I WOKE UP. Now just figure that one out, if you can.
P.S. My Christian friends remind me that God uses dreams in the Bible to get his message to human beings. If that is true today then would you like to know my conclusion to the whole matter? Simple. "I ain't no human being. I must be an alien who wandered in from outer space."
That's it, folks. Goodnite and pleasant dreams?
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Be a Peach Tree
Lately I've been puzzled and a bit disturbed by some friends and other folks who are apparently very concerned about "doing enough" to be thought worthy of God, and to be sure of reaching heaven. Sometimes they smile sheepishly and say, "I don't think I've done enough to balance the books for entrance to heaven," or they say , in a semi-serious voice, "I'm not sure the good things I do are enough to get me through the pearly gates."
But these same dear friends will quickly avow, when asked if they are Christians that "Yes, I am. I have trusted Jesus Christ as my personal Savior and I believe that He died on the Cross for my sins so that I may have eternal life."
Well, that pretty much settles things, doesn't it? We can confidently say "I am, You are, He/She is a Christian. But then sometimes we change the verb form and say something like this: I GO to church every Sunday, morning and night," or "I SING in the choir on Sunday morning," or I GAVE my tithe faithfully all last year, or I HELPED a poor street person to find a place to sleep," or I READ the whole Bible last year," or "I GET UP AND PRAY every morning at 6:00 a.m," or "Bless me, I TEACH a Sunday School class of ten year old boys." And doesn't that in a way suggest that we are DOING THINGS so that we might be acceptable to God and attain heaven? Could that be possible?
And before I am completely misunderstood, let me say that these are all good things that we very probably should be doing. But the problem arises when we begin to think that we MUST DO THESE, OR SIMILAR THINGS, if we are Christian; that, in fact, unless we DO GOOD THINGS, we may not make it to heaven! And if we are not careful, we will rachet up our DOING to the point that we are tired, weary, restless, worn out by our efforts, and still worried that we are not DOING ENOUGH. Our religious faith has become a burden.
Okay, so what does all this have to do with the title of this diatribe which is: Be a Peach Tree? I'm using the peach tree as an analogy to try and emphasize its likeness, at least in a few ways, to a Christian.
A peach tree doesn't become a tree until something happens to it; neither do I become a Christian until something happens to me. The peach tree, at first, is simply a lowly seed. And as a seed it will change only if it is planted in the ground. It doesn't turn the soil, prepare a row bed, or pick itself up and plant itself there, a good farmer does that. We do not, by our efforts, become a Christian, all of that work is done by a good and loving God.
Then the peach tree receives rain and sun from outside itself and growth begins. The winds may come and the storms blow, but the rain and sun and the soil have worked their miracle and its roots are strong and the peach tree stands. Finally, after time, that which a peach tree IS shows itself in a bloom and then a beautiful fruit. It has produced a peach because it IS a peach tree! AND IT HAS DONE NOTHING BUT BE A PEACH TREE!
AND SO IT IS WITH BEING A CHRISTIAN. That is what I AM, that is what YOU ARE, that is what SHE IS. And if that is what we ARE, it will not be long until a blossom and then a fruit will be the result of our being a Christian. We will just stand there, wherever we are, whatever is happening, JUST BEING A CHRISTIAN. Jesus tried to explain it by saying that we (Christians) ARE salt, we ARE light. Paul emphasised what we ARE when he said to the Galatian church that, "the fruit of the Spirit is love,joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulnes, gentleness and self-control." The point is I cannot DO love, DO joy, DO peace, DO patience, DO kindness, DO goodness, DO faithfulness, DO gentleness, DO self-control. But I can BE loving, joyful,peaceful, patient, kind, good, faithful, gentle, self-controlled.
I know what you are saying: The analogy is good as far as it goes, but it doesn't deal with the reality of the human will, choice, etc. etc. etc. and you are right, But an analogy can do only so much. And if it helps me to understand a spiritual reality, that's good enough for me.
And from now on, when I see a peach tree I will remember that what it is doing is just BEING a peach tree. And I will remember that what I am doing, and all I have to do, is just BE a Christian.
And so --- good night!
But these same dear friends will quickly avow, when asked if they are Christians that "Yes, I am. I have trusted Jesus Christ as my personal Savior and I believe that He died on the Cross for my sins so that I may have eternal life."
Well, that pretty much settles things, doesn't it? We can confidently say "I am, You are, He/She is a Christian. But then sometimes we change the verb form and say something like this: I GO to church every Sunday, morning and night," or "I SING in the choir on Sunday morning," or I GAVE my tithe faithfully all last year, or I HELPED a poor street person to find a place to sleep," or I READ the whole Bible last year," or "I GET UP AND PRAY every morning at 6:00 a.m," or "Bless me, I TEACH a Sunday School class of ten year old boys." And doesn't that in a way suggest that we are DOING THINGS so that we might be acceptable to God and attain heaven? Could that be possible?
And before I am completely misunderstood, let me say that these are all good things that we very probably should be doing. But the problem arises when we begin to think that we MUST DO THESE, OR SIMILAR THINGS, if we are Christian; that, in fact, unless we DO GOOD THINGS, we may not make it to heaven! And if we are not careful, we will rachet up our DOING to the point that we are tired, weary, restless, worn out by our efforts, and still worried that we are not DOING ENOUGH. Our religious faith has become a burden.
Okay, so what does all this have to do with the title of this diatribe which is: Be a Peach Tree? I'm using the peach tree as an analogy to try and emphasize its likeness, at least in a few ways, to a Christian.
A peach tree doesn't become a tree until something happens to it; neither do I become a Christian until something happens to me. The peach tree, at first, is simply a lowly seed. And as a seed it will change only if it is planted in the ground. It doesn't turn the soil, prepare a row bed, or pick itself up and plant itself there, a good farmer does that. We do not, by our efforts, become a Christian, all of that work is done by a good and loving God.
Then the peach tree receives rain and sun from outside itself and growth begins. The winds may come and the storms blow, but the rain and sun and the soil have worked their miracle and its roots are strong and the peach tree stands. Finally, after time, that which a peach tree IS shows itself in a bloom and then a beautiful fruit. It has produced a peach because it IS a peach tree! AND IT HAS DONE NOTHING BUT BE A PEACH TREE!
AND SO IT IS WITH BEING A CHRISTIAN. That is what I AM, that is what YOU ARE, that is what SHE IS. And if that is what we ARE, it will not be long until a blossom and then a fruit will be the result of our being a Christian. We will just stand there, wherever we are, whatever is happening, JUST BEING A CHRISTIAN. Jesus tried to explain it by saying that we (Christians) ARE salt, we ARE light. Paul emphasised what we ARE when he said to the Galatian church that, "the fruit of the Spirit is love,joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulnes, gentleness and self-control." The point is I cannot DO love, DO joy, DO peace, DO patience, DO kindness, DO goodness, DO faithfulness, DO gentleness, DO self-control. But I can BE loving, joyful,peaceful, patient, kind, good, faithful, gentle, self-controlled.
I know what you are saying: The analogy is good as far as it goes, but it doesn't deal with the reality of the human will, choice, etc. etc. etc. and you are right, But an analogy can do only so much. And if it helps me to understand a spiritual reality, that's good enough for me.
And from now on, when I see a peach tree I will remember that what it is doing is just BEING a peach tree. And I will remember that what I am doing, and all I have to do, is just BE a Christian.
And so --- good night!
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
"It is what it is" "Things Are what they are"
I think these two phrases (see title) will be my mantra for the forseeable future. Like everybody else, I have spent hours worrying and fretting about "Tt is what it is."
Whether it has to do with health, family problems, church worries, the present quagmire that our country is slowly but surely sinking into, spiritual questions, a changing society -- you name it; I've worried about IT, thinking that in some mysterious, out-of-the world way, I might be able to do something to change things.
Well, I've come to realize the valildity of this statement: "it is what it is." Now, that puts me right in the middle of everything, because I live smack dab in the middle of what it is!
No escape from poor health, no escape from church problems, no freedom from responsibilities that I would rather not have, no ability to change (in any significant way) the slippery slope that our country is on, no magic wand to heal broken relationships, no miraculous salve to bind up and cure physical disease.
The unvarnished truth as I see it, is that I am only one of countless millions of human beings who sooner or later have to face up to the fact that "it is what it is." and "things are what they are." And a sober acknowledgment and acceptance of that reality seems to somehow stiffen my spine and enable me to say "Okay, so I will deal with IT!
And I do. I use whatever aids and props and encouragements I can find to help me along this difficult and onerous and sometimes frightening path. I use my Christian faith, I lean on my husband -- when he is not too tired, I use friends who love me, I call on my own children for strength,
I find truth in books, I find beauty in nature, I find love in some very unusual places.
"It is what it is," things are what they are," and this is LIFE.
Now ------- to be really, really honest: Those things are what I do ON GOOD DAYS!!
What I do ON BAD DAYS IS PRETTY UGLY. I don't spend much time in praying or reading my Bible because I don't think God is anywhere nearby and I"m not sure He has any interest in talking to me because I'm not interested in talking to Him.
If I'm with a good friend, I may open up a tiny bit but I usually just stew around and skirt around what's bothering me because I don't want my friend to see what a horrible person I am.
I surely don't share with my own children all of my confusion, my hatreds, my feelings of frustration and belligerence, my desire to get into my car and drive off into the sunset,leaving everybody behind!! Can't do that!! What would they think of their dear old Mom?
As for seeing beauty in nature??? Don't see anything but the blasted cold rain and the dreary day.
Find truth in books? There's no such thing as truth and if there were, on a day like this, I wouldn't know it if it slapped me in my face.
So where am I? What am I saying now?
I'm taking a deep breath and sighing big. I'm saying "it is what it is," "Things are what they are" and THIS IS ALSO LIFE. So ---- go figure!
Whether it has to do with health, family problems, church worries, the present quagmire that our country is slowly but surely sinking into, spiritual questions, a changing society -- you name it; I've worried about IT, thinking that in some mysterious, out-of-the world way, I might be able to do something to change things.
Well, I've come to realize the valildity of this statement: "it is what it is." Now, that puts me right in the middle of everything, because I live smack dab in the middle of what it is!
No escape from poor health, no escape from church problems, no freedom from responsibilities that I would rather not have, no ability to change (in any significant way) the slippery slope that our country is on, no magic wand to heal broken relationships, no miraculous salve to bind up and cure physical disease.
The unvarnished truth as I see it, is that I am only one of countless millions of human beings who sooner or later have to face up to the fact that "it is what it is." and "things are what they are." And a sober acknowledgment and acceptance of that reality seems to somehow stiffen my spine and enable me to say "Okay, so I will deal with IT!
And I do. I use whatever aids and props and encouragements I can find to help me along this difficult and onerous and sometimes frightening path. I use my Christian faith, I lean on my husband -- when he is not too tired, I use friends who love me, I call on my own children for strength,
I find truth in books, I find beauty in nature, I find love in some very unusual places.
"It is what it is," things are what they are," and this is LIFE.
Now ------- to be really, really honest: Those things are what I do ON GOOD DAYS!!
What I do ON BAD DAYS IS PRETTY UGLY. I don't spend much time in praying or reading my Bible because I don't think God is anywhere nearby and I"m not sure He has any interest in talking to me because I'm not interested in talking to Him.
If I'm with a good friend, I may open up a tiny bit but I usually just stew around and skirt around what's bothering me because I don't want my friend to see what a horrible person I am.
I surely don't share with my own children all of my confusion, my hatreds, my feelings of frustration and belligerence, my desire to get into my car and drive off into the sunset,leaving everybody behind!! Can't do that!! What would they think of their dear old Mom?
As for seeing beauty in nature??? Don't see anything but the blasted cold rain and the dreary day.
Find truth in books? There's no such thing as truth and if there were, on a day like this, I wouldn't know it if it slapped me in my face.
So where am I? What am I saying now?
I'm taking a deep breath and sighing big. I'm saying "it is what it is," "Things are what they are" and THIS IS ALSO LIFE. So ---- go figure!
Thursday, February 25, 2010
A Tale of Two Dogs
I promised to write more blogs and I haven't done so. This is my attempt to catch up.
Some time ago we had a Shih Tsu male dog named Barney, and we loved him extravagantly because we had got him as a puppy and he was adorable. We hoped to raise him and keep him forever. But, Alas, Barney fell in love with me, but only tolerated Bill. That was okay up to a point. The time came when Barney did not even like Bill and in fact would attack him without provocation. And the day came when I had to tell my son to find someone to whom we could give Barney; he was too vicious to keep. And again, alas, my son who is very competent and acts decisively, found a place for Barney the next day. I sent Barney to a very lovely young lady who fell in love with him just as I had.
I was heartbroken. It is silly and foolish, I know, to fall in love with an animal but I had loved Barney and I missed him. I wrote a brog about that loss which helped me verbalize how I felt. I said something like, "Is it too much to ask for a dog you can love?" indicating I felt cheated and disappointed at the turn of events.
Then one day, several months later, out of the blue, my daughter said she had found another dog for me. Mary has been "finding" dogs for me since she was ten years old and has never given up the habit. Somewhat reluctantly and anxiously, I agreed to go and see the dog.
It was another Shih Tsu, an adorable blond girl dog with floppy ears and big eyes. I was completely smitten with her and we brought her home that day. We named her Maggie, and she has been the delight of both me and my husband. She chooses to sit in my lap most of the time, but will be equally happy with him while I am gone.
I have never known a more loving, cuddly, obedient, dog than Maggie. And we love her.
And by the way, how and why do you suppose this all happened? Is it sacriligious to suggest that I think God saw my disappointment, my heavy heart, and said to one of his angels, "Let's help out here; get Marie another dog, and be sure it loves both men and women."
I think that the God who knows the number of the hairs on my head, who knows the length of my days on this earth, who knows that I believe and trust in Him, cares for me so much that He chuckled when he gave the order for Maggie.
Some time ago we had a Shih Tsu male dog named Barney, and we loved him extravagantly because we had got him as a puppy and he was adorable. We hoped to raise him and keep him forever. But, Alas, Barney fell in love with me, but only tolerated Bill. That was okay up to a point. The time came when Barney did not even like Bill and in fact would attack him without provocation. And the day came when I had to tell my son to find someone to whom we could give Barney; he was too vicious to keep. And again, alas, my son who is very competent and acts decisively, found a place for Barney the next day. I sent Barney to a very lovely young lady who fell in love with him just as I had.
I was heartbroken. It is silly and foolish, I know, to fall in love with an animal but I had loved Barney and I missed him. I wrote a brog about that loss which helped me verbalize how I felt. I said something like, "Is it too much to ask for a dog you can love?" indicating I felt cheated and disappointed at the turn of events.
Then one day, several months later, out of the blue, my daughter said she had found another dog for me. Mary has been "finding" dogs for me since she was ten years old and has never given up the habit. Somewhat reluctantly and anxiously, I agreed to go and see the dog.
It was another Shih Tsu, an adorable blond girl dog with floppy ears and big eyes. I was completely smitten with her and we brought her home that day. We named her Maggie, and she has been the delight of both me and my husband. She chooses to sit in my lap most of the time, but will be equally happy with him while I am gone.
I have never known a more loving, cuddly, obedient, dog than Maggie. And we love her.
And by the way, how and why do you suppose this all happened? Is it sacriligious to suggest that I think God saw my disappointment, my heavy heart, and said to one of his angels, "Let's help out here; get Marie another dog, and be sure it loves both men and women."
I think that the God who knows the number of the hairs on my head, who knows the length of my days on this earth, who knows that I believe and trust in Him, cares for me so much that He chuckled when he gave the order for Maggie.
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Back to Blogging, Dec.26,2009
I'm back to blogging because it gives me a venue to express thoughts that I can't express anywhere else, and that is very therapeutic for me! I sometimes think I don't have time to blog but that's like saying I don't have time to think, and that is a really pitiful condition.
Today I'm thinking that I am a wimpy Christian, and I want to talk about that for my own excoriation of spirit and consequent edification of soul! We have just got through the Babe in the Manger part of Christianity and I have slobbered along with everyone else over the beauty of the Babe in the Manger, the loveliness of the creche, the warm, fuzzy feelings we have toward the whole Christmas setting, and then toward mankind because the Angels sang about peace on earth and good will to all men.
And then the rest of the year, I am a complete wimp when it comes to letting those in my small world know how I really feel about being a Christian. First, I fail to declare my faith that it is Jesus, who is God Incarnate, who is my personal Savior and who is the potential Savior of the world. I quibble along with other believers who try to be politically correct and affirm that there might indeed be other ways to God than through the Cross of Christ. I don't dare say to believers and non-believers alike, what C.S. Lewis affirmed so strongly, that "No, either Jesus is the Divine and Unique Son of God, or He is a mad man or the greatest con artist the world has ever known." And if He is indeed Who He Claims To Be, then He is the only Redeemer of men's souls.
And the love that He has for all mankind is a redeeming love, which means to me that it is a costly, sacrificial, strong and everlasting love that reaches to the pits of hell to draw me out of the enslavement of my sin, and cleanse me and re-make me into what He desires me to be.
This redemptive love is not a warm, cosy, pathetic, self-abnegating, "you didn't mean to be bad" patting on the head of a "sorry I did it (and got caught)" so-called repenter. It is a love that cost the Everlasting, Eternal, God of the Universe, everything that He had and was!!! And that kind of love, if it is to redeem me, must be accepted by me on my knees before God and saying "I give You all that I am; all that I will ever be, and I trust you forever with all of my heart and soul."
The Christian faith is a gutsy, husky, all-or-nothing-at-all faith and it is not for sissies, or quibblers, or abnegators, or compromisers, or pie-in-the-sky-ers, or anyone who is unwilling to submit, finally, to the God of all the Universe, who does, in fact, love us redemptively.
This is what I really believe. Will I be courageous enough to share my faith with anyone who happens to enter my small, small, world, and will I let Him who is God do in my life what He wills to do?
I hope so.
Today I'm thinking that I am a wimpy Christian, and I want to talk about that for my own excoriation of spirit and consequent edification of soul! We have just got through the Babe in the Manger part of Christianity and I have slobbered along with everyone else over the beauty of the Babe in the Manger, the loveliness of the creche, the warm, fuzzy feelings we have toward the whole Christmas setting, and then toward mankind because the Angels sang about peace on earth and good will to all men.
And then the rest of the year, I am a complete wimp when it comes to letting those in my small world know how I really feel about being a Christian. First, I fail to declare my faith that it is Jesus, who is God Incarnate, who is my personal Savior and who is the potential Savior of the world. I quibble along with other believers who try to be politically correct and affirm that there might indeed be other ways to God than through the Cross of Christ. I don't dare say to believers and non-believers alike, what C.S. Lewis affirmed so strongly, that "No, either Jesus is the Divine and Unique Son of God, or He is a mad man or the greatest con artist the world has ever known." And if He is indeed Who He Claims To Be, then He is the only Redeemer of men's souls.
And the love that He has for all mankind is a redeeming love, which means to me that it is a costly, sacrificial, strong and everlasting love that reaches to the pits of hell to draw me out of the enslavement of my sin, and cleanse me and re-make me into what He desires me to be.
This redemptive love is not a warm, cosy, pathetic, self-abnegating, "you didn't mean to be bad" patting on the head of a "sorry I did it (and got caught)" so-called repenter. It is a love that cost the Everlasting, Eternal, God of the Universe, everything that He had and was!!! And that kind of love, if it is to redeem me, must be accepted by me on my knees before God and saying "I give You all that I am; all that I will ever be, and I trust you forever with all of my heart and soul."
The Christian faith is a gutsy, husky, all-or-nothing-at-all faith and it is not for sissies, or quibblers, or abnegators, or compromisers, or pie-in-the-sky-ers, or anyone who is unwilling to submit, finally, to the God of all the Universe, who does, in fact, love us redemptively.
This is what I really believe. Will I be courageous enough to share my faith with anyone who happens to enter my small, small, world, and will I let Him who is God do in my life what He wills to do?
I hope so.
Friday, June 26, 2009
This 'n That
I need to blog today because I am stuck here in the house for another 24 hours before I can get out in the sun again. My dermatologist put me through a procedure on Thursday to eliminate all the pre-cancers on my face, and after getting my face "fried," I have to stay inside for 48 hours. He really didn't "fry" it, but that's what it feels and looks like. Lots of red blotches and heat, and it has made me feel pretty punk. But, as my Mom always said, "This too will pass, Marie."
I spend so much time getting things done to me in my old age that life sometimes becomes pretty boring. Got the cataracts removed and now I can see (a miracle), and now we hope to have stamped out facial cancers, but I'm pretty sure something else will "fall off" soon and I'll be back on the doctor route again. Oh well, when Obama gets the health care program in place, I won't ever have to see a doctor again --- we spend far too much money in this country on old people and their ailments-- and we've got to stop that!
Two famous (?) people died yesterday: Michael Jackson and Farrah Fawcett. I wonder at all the publicity and hoopla we Americans give to our entertainment stars demise. It's all a part of our American culture, I guess. Nevertheless, I feel saddened at their deaths; I'm not sure either one had a really happy life.
I really like a lot of the "things" our world has for us these days, and one of the most satisfying to me is this computer where I can write, and write, and write, for my own pleasure; where I can use email and correspond with friends at a moment's notice; where I can find information about almost anything with just a tap of a key. The tech world is a mystery to me, but I love the benefits I get from my sparce knowledge.
Kevin and Kathryn will soon be off to college and they will be missed by us. I'm glad for their going, but I worry (like any responsible grandma should) about the challenges they will face. I know they will do well, but I sometimes feel by them as I felt, many times, for my own three children. I wanted to wrap my arms around them, hold them close to me, and keep the world at bay so they would never be hurt. But I had to let them go; that's one of the tough things a parent has to do.
Life is good. At 87, I rejoice in the life I have now, and thank God for His blessings.
I spend so much time getting things done to me in my old age that life sometimes becomes pretty boring. Got the cataracts removed and now I can see (a miracle), and now we hope to have stamped out facial cancers, but I'm pretty sure something else will "fall off" soon and I'll be back on the doctor route again. Oh well, when Obama gets the health care program in place, I won't ever have to see a doctor again --- we spend far too much money in this country on old people and their ailments-- and we've got to stop that!
Two famous (?) people died yesterday: Michael Jackson and Farrah Fawcett. I wonder at all the publicity and hoopla we Americans give to our entertainment stars demise. It's all a part of our American culture, I guess. Nevertheless, I feel saddened at their deaths; I'm not sure either one had a really happy life.
I really like a lot of the "things" our world has for us these days, and one of the most satisfying to me is this computer where I can write, and write, and write, for my own pleasure; where I can use email and correspond with friends at a moment's notice; where I can find information about almost anything with just a tap of a key. The tech world is a mystery to me, but I love the benefits I get from my sparce knowledge.
Kevin and Kathryn will soon be off to college and they will be missed by us. I'm glad for their going, but I worry (like any responsible grandma should) about the challenges they will face. I know they will do well, but I sometimes feel by them as I felt, many times, for my own three children. I wanted to wrap my arms around them, hold them close to me, and keep the world at bay so they would never be hurt. But I had to let them go; that's one of the tough things a parent has to do.
Life is good. At 87, I rejoice in the life I have now, and thank God for His blessings.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
A Book in May
I can't believe I haven't blogged in months. I am going to try and blog at least once each month whether I have much to say or not. So this one will be pretty short and simple. It is my analysis of a brief excerpt from the latest book I have read.
It is from Elizabeth George's newest book entitled Careless in Red, an Inspector Lynley murder mystery. The book is very well written and so densely packed both in plotting and characterizations that it takes time and intense concentration to "get" what is happening.
Here is one example of how she interweaves character,plot, philosophy, life meaning, together so perfectly that this short excerpt will almost surely speak to you, or to any reader.
The situation is that a young man is looking at his Father, an old man. The son, Ben, says:
"But the sight of his father had abruptly changed things for Ben. So old, he thought. So terribly old. Broken as well. He wondered how he had failed to understand till now that life had long ago defeated his father. He'd beaten his fists against it --his Father had--and refused to submit to its demands. These demands were for compromise and change: to take Life on Life's terms, which required the ability to switch courses when necessary, to modify behaviours, and to alter dreams so that they could meet the realities that they came up against. But he had never been able to do any of that, so he'd been crushed, and life had rolled over his shattered body."
If you think about this passage long enough, it will almost certainly resonate with you -- whoever you are, whatever your age, what your life is like now, what is may be in the future. It will probably stir up memories, dreams, losses, hopes, failures, sadness, joy.
And more than that: it may make you and me into more compassionate, caring, loving people as we deal with each other in intimate relationships and with a world that is desperately in need of love and understanding from us.
A good book makes you think, makes you feel, helps you to learn. Sometimes it can even change you in a significant way. Enjoy.
It is from Elizabeth George's newest book entitled Careless in Red, an Inspector Lynley murder mystery. The book is very well written and so densely packed both in plotting and characterizations that it takes time and intense concentration to "get" what is happening.
Here is one example of how she interweaves character,plot, philosophy, life meaning, together so perfectly that this short excerpt will almost surely speak to you, or to any reader.
The situation is that a young man is looking at his Father, an old man. The son, Ben, says:
"But the sight of his father had abruptly changed things for Ben. So old, he thought. So terribly old. Broken as well. He wondered how he had failed to understand till now that life had long ago defeated his father. He'd beaten his fists against it --his Father had--and refused to submit to its demands. These demands were for compromise and change: to take Life on Life's terms, which required the ability to switch courses when necessary, to modify behaviours, and to alter dreams so that they could meet the realities that they came up against. But he had never been able to do any of that, so he'd been crushed, and life had rolled over his shattered body."
If you think about this passage long enough, it will almost certainly resonate with you -- whoever you are, whatever your age, what your life is like now, what is may be in the future. It will probably stir up memories, dreams, losses, hopes, failures, sadness, joy.
And more than that: it may make you and me into more compassionate, caring, loving people as we deal with each other in intimate relationships and with a world that is desperately in need of love and understanding from us.
A good book makes you think, makes you feel, helps you to learn. Sometimes it can even change you in a significant way. Enjoy.
Friday, February 20, 2009
Time to Blog Again?
I'm not sure it's time to blog again, but that was the only title I could think of -- so much for my creativity.
I haven't been doing anything significant to be writing about, but I have been doing some thinking and feeling. Actually, the doing I do is so inconsequential and boring that no one would take time to read about it.
But, hey, the thinking and feeling --- that's something else!
So, I've been thinking about how Our Huge Fortune stashed in stocks and bonds has gone south in a big way. I don't even want to know the exact figures, but suffice it to say, we are a big percentage down from where we were in September of 2008. (If I could do the math, I'd tell you what that percentage is, but I don't do math ---I'm an English teacher)
Anyhow, the loss is pretty substantial, and my broker tells me that that amount really is gone-- despite the fact that I have sold nothing!! It just ain't there anymore. Now, what I'd like to do is find someone to blame for all this: I've thought about blaming Bush (but he doesn't care), about blaming Obama (but I don't fall under any of his guidelines to get a hand-out so why bother?), about blaming my three grown kids who are smart and should have warned their doddering old Mom, but they think I am an independent old cuss and wouldn't have paid any attention to them anyhow.
SO who am I to blame? MYSELF. That's it; that's where the buck stops; that's the way life is. And, you know what? I feel pretty good about that. Like Sinatra sings, "I did it my way." And as long as the aged brain continues to function, I will probably keep on doing it my way -- and having a great time and being wise enough to keep on taking the consequences, good or bad, that come along with my decisions.
What about feelings? I have had what we all have -- good ones and bad ones. For about a week after I changed our Tattered Fortune over from our old managment set up to a new management company, I had an absolutely terrifying number of nights when feelings of Fear, Worry, and Self-recrimination woke me up at 3 a.m. and kept me sleepless the rest of the night. It took time and several conferences with my new broker to toss those feelings into the ash heap.
But, ah, the good feelings came also.
I felt the genuine love and concern from new found friends. For no particular reason, LaRue called me to come by and visit with her and her Mom, Jane called and wanted to meet for coffee, I took an evening meal (bought from Krogers) to my newest friend, Gracie, who had knee surgery, several gals in the SS class mentioned how much they enjoyed my teaching when LaRue is gone.
And Mary Anne and Ben come by very often, and they are a delight. Mark has us over for coffee on Saturday, and we get to chat with Kim and Kat.
And so I'm feeling that life is sad and hard at times, but it is also very, very good at times.
Doing, thinking, feeling. Which one charms you the most?
I haven't been doing anything significant to be writing about, but I have been doing some thinking and feeling. Actually, the doing I do is so inconsequential and boring that no one would take time to read about it.
But, hey, the thinking and feeling --- that's something else!
So, I've been thinking about how Our Huge Fortune stashed in stocks and bonds has gone south in a big way. I don't even want to know the exact figures, but suffice it to say, we are a big percentage down from where we were in September of 2008. (If I could do the math, I'd tell you what that percentage is, but I don't do math ---I'm an English teacher)
Anyhow, the loss is pretty substantial, and my broker tells me that that amount really is gone-- despite the fact that I have sold nothing!! It just ain't there anymore. Now, what I'd like to do is find someone to blame for all this: I've thought about blaming Bush (but he doesn't care), about blaming Obama (but I don't fall under any of his guidelines to get a hand-out so why bother?), about blaming my three grown kids who are smart and should have warned their doddering old Mom, but they think I am an independent old cuss and wouldn't have paid any attention to them anyhow.
SO who am I to blame? MYSELF. That's it; that's where the buck stops; that's the way life is. And, you know what? I feel pretty good about that. Like Sinatra sings, "I did it my way." And as long as the aged brain continues to function, I will probably keep on doing it my way -- and having a great time and being wise enough to keep on taking the consequences, good or bad, that come along with my decisions.
What about feelings? I have had what we all have -- good ones and bad ones. For about a week after I changed our Tattered Fortune over from our old managment set up to a new management company, I had an absolutely terrifying number of nights when feelings of Fear, Worry, and Self-recrimination woke me up at 3 a.m. and kept me sleepless the rest of the night. It took time and several conferences with my new broker to toss those feelings into the ash heap.
But, ah, the good feelings came also.
I felt the genuine love and concern from new found friends. For no particular reason, LaRue called me to come by and visit with her and her Mom, Jane called and wanted to meet for coffee, I took an evening meal (bought from Krogers) to my newest friend, Gracie, who had knee surgery, several gals in the SS class mentioned how much they enjoyed my teaching when LaRue is gone.
And Mary Anne and Ben come by very often, and they are a delight. Mark has us over for coffee on Saturday, and we get to chat with Kim and Kat.
And so I'm feeling that life is sad and hard at times, but it is also very, very good at times.
Doing, thinking, feeling. Which one charms you the most?
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
If You want to know, you had better ask now
That is a cryptic statement, but it occured to me the other day that it is an important statement which I probably should share with anyone who will listen.
How did this thought spring into the muddled musings of my aged brain? Well, my mind had slipped back into the days when I was 19 and living in Ft Worth during the early days of WW2. I was remembering the guys I had dated and what might have happened to them, and one young man in particular came into my mind.
I can't remember his name at all, but I had met him through my sister and an older lady whom my sister knew and ran around with some. My sister and this woman went to what we called "honkey-tonks" in those days (now called bars) with the men they happened to be dating at the time, and occasionally I would go "stag" with them.
ANyhow, one night the older lady brought her nephew along; he was 21 and very handsome and we started dating. And befoe long, he was sent overseas to Italy as a bombardier in a B17. He flew several missions and on one of them was shot down ------ and I couldn't remember what had happened to him. I was thinking that maybe he made it back home after the war, but I wasn't sure.
Now here is the point I'm trying (not very effectively) to make.
FOR JUST A NANOSECOND, I THOUGHT, "WELL, I'LL JUST CALL MY SISTER AND ASK HER!"
Now my sister has been dead for over thirteen years and I knew that! I was not going to be able to ask her anything about anybody and that knowledge brought tears to my eyes.
And there are a lot of things I wish I had asked her over the years. And I didn't. I'd like to know more about how my family lived before I was born, who my grandparents were, where did they come from, what life was really like during the Great Depression when I was just a child, how did they find strength to cope with what life threw at them while they were growing up.
Now I will never know.
So this truth: If you really want to know something, you had better ask now.
How did this thought spring into the muddled musings of my aged brain? Well, my mind had slipped back into the days when I was 19 and living in Ft Worth during the early days of WW2. I was remembering the guys I had dated and what might have happened to them, and one young man in particular came into my mind.
I can't remember his name at all, but I had met him through my sister and an older lady whom my sister knew and ran around with some. My sister and this woman went to what we called "honkey-tonks" in those days (now called bars) with the men they happened to be dating at the time, and occasionally I would go "stag" with them.
ANyhow, one night the older lady brought her nephew along; he was 21 and very handsome and we started dating. And befoe long, he was sent overseas to Italy as a bombardier in a B17. He flew several missions and on one of them was shot down ------ and I couldn't remember what had happened to him. I was thinking that maybe he made it back home after the war, but I wasn't sure.
Now here is the point I'm trying (not very effectively) to make.
FOR JUST A NANOSECOND, I THOUGHT, "WELL, I'LL JUST CALL MY SISTER AND ASK HER!"
Now my sister has been dead for over thirteen years and I knew that! I was not going to be able to ask her anything about anybody and that knowledge brought tears to my eyes.
And there are a lot of things I wish I had asked her over the years. And I didn't. I'd like to know more about how my family lived before I was born, who my grandparents were, where did they come from, what life was really like during the Great Depression when I was just a child, how did they find strength to cope with what life threw at them while they were growing up.
Now I will never know.
So this truth: If you really want to know something, you had better ask now.
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
An Octogenarian Orgy
Ever wonder what really old people do to celebrate the coming in of a brand new year? Well, they have octogenarian orgies; that's what they do! We had one on New Year's Eve, 2008, at our humble abode in Grapevine.
Our friends, the Cleavers, came down from OKC on New Years Eve to help us celebrate. They arrived about 2 p.m. and we talked until about 5 p.m. about "the olden days", and all the fun we had as young people and young adults. Then Bill Cleaver(better known as B.C.) suggested to Bill Saunders (a.k.a.B.S.) that we have a glass of wine. Of Course, Jenny and I were all for that, but I reasoned with B.S. that he couldn't drink wine because he was on drugs!! He agreed; didn't want to get "too high" and spoil the party!!
After our glasses of wine, we (Jenny and I) agreed we needed to eat out, so as to make the evening more enjoyable. We did. Chose a rather grand dining place. i.e., Jason's Deli, where each couple ordered a soup and salad to split. I ate chili in lieu of soup; B.S. had the salad. B.C. had soup, Jenny ate his salad. Our tab was pretty formidable: 5 bucks for each couple!!!
Then back to 1517 Briarcrest where we regaled each other with marvelous tales of The Great Depression days, how we worked for a dollar a day, how we never dreamed, any of us, of attending college, how World War II changed everything, and how spectacular, remarkable, and absolutely unbelievable were the things we accomplished by pure luck, hard work, and gritty determination. B.C. got a medical degree, Jenny a college degree with music major; B.S. became a Preacher with an M.Div, and holy cow, I managed to end up with a Ph.D.in English.
We ate a snack about 10:30, drank coffee and/or cokes, talked some more, yawned a lot, and finally gave up and headed for the bed at 11:00 --- who cares about seeing a stupid ball fall in NYC???
Off to bed with the same guy/gal we had slept with for 50/60 years, still in love and still grateful for the happinesses we have shared as couples and as friends.
It don't get much better than that.
Octogenarian Orgies are fun. Hope you all live to celebrate your very own special one. In the meantime, Have a Happy New year in 2009.
Our friends, the Cleavers, came down from OKC on New Years Eve to help us celebrate. They arrived about 2 p.m. and we talked until about 5 p.m. about "the olden days", and all the fun we had as young people and young adults. Then Bill Cleaver(better known as B.C.) suggested to Bill Saunders (a.k.a.B.S.) that we have a glass of wine. Of Course, Jenny and I were all for that, but I reasoned with B.S. that he couldn't drink wine because he was on drugs!! He agreed; didn't want to get "too high" and spoil the party!!
After our glasses of wine, we (Jenny and I) agreed we needed to eat out, so as to make the evening more enjoyable. We did. Chose a rather grand dining place. i.e., Jason's Deli, where each couple ordered a soup and salad to split. I ate chili in lieu of soup; B.S. had the salad. B.C. had soup, Jenny ate his salad. Our tab was pretty formidable: 5 bucks for each couple!!!
Then back to 1517 Briarcrest where we regaled each other with marvelous tales of The Great Depression days, how we worked for a dollar a day, how we never dreamed, any of us, of attending college, how World War II changed everything, and how spectacular, remarkable, and absolutely unbelievable were the things we accomplished by pure luck, hard work, and gritty determination. B.C. got a medical degree, Jenny a college degree with music major; B.S. became a Preacher with an M.Div, and holy cow, I managed to end up with a Ph.D.in English.
We ate a snack about 10:30, drank coffee and/or cokes, talked some more, yawned a lot, and finally gave up and headed for the bed at 11:00 --- who cares about seeing a stupid ball fall in NYC???
Off to bed with the same guy/gal we had slept with for 50/60 years, still in love and still grateful for the happinesses we have shared as couples and as friends.
It don't get much better than that.
Octogenarian Orgies are fun. Hope you all live to celebrate your very own special one. In the meantime, Have a Happy New year in 2009.
Thursday, December 4, 2008
"We Don't Have Anything for That Here!"
I spent 5 days in the hospital this past week, and had a very unique exprience that still causes me some confusion, but which was also a very unique blessing.
After 3 days of pretty horrible pain and nausea, I was finally coming around to being a human again. I was loaded with all kind of meds; my arm looked like a pin cushion with all the needles stuck in it. And then this very unusual (funny?) thing happened.
I was lying there, talking with my daughter, and I closed my eyes to rest them for a moment. To my astonishment, with my eyes closed, I began to see pictures of people and things floating toward me. It was like there was a small camera on my eyeball, floating this way and that, and taking those pictures.
They were tiny pictures of the faces of persons, mostly male, and one and then another would move aggressively toward me. I couldn't dodge them; they frightened me with their obsessive movement.
I tried to look away (all this with eyes closed, remember) but they kept on coming back, bombarding me with their moving faces. At first, the faces were just plain people, but then they became grotesque and twisted, mouths slashed, eyes bulging, and terrible diseased spots scattered on them.
All this was happening in the space of maybe 30 seconds because I almost immediately opened my eyes and the faces went away. My heart was beginning to pound a bit now. Just to be sure that it was a momentary thing I shut my eyes again, waited a second, and there they were - back again!
Now I was becoming panicky. I hesitated to say anything to Mary, but she understands me pretty well and I thought she would believe me if I told her what was happening. So I told her and she said, "Well, gosh, Mom, that's strange."
I kinda shrugged, feeling pretty stupid, and determinedly kept my eyes open. When Mary was leaving, I shut my eyes very quickly, just to check, and, dang it. the pictures were back. But I decided to act like an adult and let Mary go without worrying her.
That was a mistake. After she left, I frantically shut my eyes again and again and there the pictures were, dancing up and down, moving fast and hatefully toward me. By now, I was frantic. I couldn't keep on doing this, shutting my eyes and then having to pop them open to ward off thedse grotesque, frightening, obsessive person pictures. I had to be able to sleep!
So I called the nurse, who just happened to be a large, black woman, very professional and very assured, and told her what was happening. At first, she just didn't say anything, but I kept on ranting about the terrible thing that was happening to me. She listened a few seconds longer , then started moving deliberately toward the door and said, "We don't have anything here to take care of that." I know she thought I was crazy.
This is all funny now, but then it was the most terrifying, horrible, frightening experience I have ever had. In desperation, after struggling another 30 minutes with the same thing happening every time I closed my eyes, I called her back and asked for a pain shot. She gave it to me and I fell asleep.
Two hours later, I woke up. The pictures were back, and now the machine feeding the tubes into my arm was making a strange sound. It was very rhythmically saying, "Attack, attack, attack" each time a drop in the I.V. hit the bottom of the bottle. (You can laugh now, because it sounds so ridiculous) but I was almost hysterical . Was I going insane? Did I have a fatal disease? Would I become a specimen for medical science to ponder over?
It was the closest I've come in a long time to completely "losing it." I wished for Mary, I wished for Bill, I wished for Mark, I wished for anyone who could help me, but I was all by myself .
But not completely.
In a moment of utter despair, desperation, confusion, fear overwhelming
me, I called out to God for help. And He was there, calming me, warming me, and loving me.
The pictures didn't stop, but I was calmer, able to think coherently and realize that what was happening could be from my cataract eye distorting things, or an effect of the many meds.
So I called the nurse back. I was determined to ask her if she heard the machine saying "Attack, attack, attack" and if she didn't, I knew I was in big trouble. Very carefully I asked her: "Do you hear the noise that machine is making?"
To my great relief, she said, "Oh yes, it's a faulty machine and has always made strange noises, which change from time to time." I was so happy to have her confirm that I wasn't really "going 'round the bend."
So there it is: my strange, weird, unaccountable experience. By the time I left hospital on Tuesday, all the pictures were gone, I was sleeping well, and the nightmare was over.
So why write all this? Remember the title, "We don't have anything for something like that?" Well, she is right; science doesn't have an answer to such experiences. But the spiritual world does have an answer for us, and it is God.
Peace and love from a grateful believer.
After 3 days of pretty horrible pain and nausea, I was finally coming around to being a human again. I was loaded with all kind of meds; my arm looked like a pin cushion with all the needles stuck in it. And then this very unusual (funny?) thing happened.
I was lying there, talking with my daughter, and I closed my eyes to rest them for a moment. To my astonishment, with my eyes closed, I began to see pictures of people and things floating toward me. It was like there was a small camera on my eyeball, floating this way and that, and taking those pictures.
They were tiny pictures of the faces of persons, mostly male, and one and then another would move aggressively toward me. I couldn't dodge them; they frightened me with their obsessive movement.
I tried to look away (all this with eyes closed, remember) but they kept on coming back, bombarding me with their moving faces. At first, the faces were just plain people, but then they became grotesque and twisted, mouths slashed, eyes bulging, and terrible diseased spots scattered on them.
All this was happening in the space of maybe 30 seconds because I almost immediately opened my eyes and the faces went away. My heart was beginning to pound a bit now. Just to be sure that it was a momentary thing I shut my eyes again, waited a second, and there they were - back again!
Now I was becoming panicky. I hesitated to say anything to Mary, but she understands me pretty well and I thought she would believe me if I told her what was happening. So I told her and she said, "Well, gosh, Mom, that's strange."
I kinda shrugged, feeling pretty stupid, and determinedly kept my eyes open. When Mary was leaving, I shut my eyes very quickly, just to check, and, dang it. the pictures were back. But I decided to act like an adult and let Mary go without worrying her.
That was a mistake. After she left, I frantically shut my eyes again and again and there the pictures were, dancing up and down, moving fast and hatefully toward me. By now, I was frantic. I couldn't keep on doing this, shutting my eyes and then having to pop them open to ward off thedse grotesque, frightening, obsessive person pictures. I had to be able to sleep!
So I called the nurse, who just happened to be a large, black woman, very professional and very assured, and told her what was happening. At first, she just didn't say anything, but I kept on ranting about the terrible thing that was happening to me. She listened a few seconds longer , then started moving deliberately toward the door and said, "We don't have anything here to take care of that." I know she thought I was crazy.
This is all funny now, but then it was the most terrifying, horrible, frightening experience I have ever had. In desperation, after struggling another 30 minutes with the same thing happening every time I closed my eyes, I called her back and asked for a pain shot. She gave it to me and I fell asleep.
Two hours later, I woke up. The pictures were back, and now the machine feeding the tubes into my arm was making a strange sound. It was very rhythmically saying, "Attack, attack, attack" each time a drop in the I.V. hit the bottom of the bottle. (You can laugh now, because it sounds so ridiculous) but I was almost hysterical . Was I going insane? Did I have a fatal disease? Would I become a specimen for medical science to ponder over?
It was the closest I've come in a long time to completely "losing it." I wished for Mary, I wished for Bill, I wished for Mark, I wished for anyone who could help me, but I was all by myself .
But not completely.
In a moment of utter despair, desperation, confusion, fear overwhelming
me, I called out to God for help. And He was there, calming me, warming me, and loving me.
The pictures didn't stop, but I was calmer, able to think coherently and realize that what was happening could be from my cataract eye distorting things, or an effect of the many meds.
So I called the nurse back. I was determined to ask her if she heard the machine saying "Attack, attack, attack" and if she didn't, I knew I was in big trouble. Very carefully I asked her: "Do you hear the noise that machine is making?"
To my great relief, she said, "Oh yes, it's a faulty machine and has always made strange noises, which change from time to time." I was so happy to have her confirm that I wasn't really "going 'round the bend."
So there it is: my strange, weird, unaccountable experience. By the time I left hospital on Tuesday, all the pictures were gone, I was sleeping well, and the nightmare was over.
So why write all this? Remember the title, "We don't have anything for something like that?" Well, she is right; science doesn't have an answer to such experiences. But the spiritual world does have an answer for us, and it is God.
Peace and love from a grateful believer.
Monday, November 17, 2008
Back in Grapevine
We are back in Grapevine after a marvelous 5 weeks with Alice Lynn and family in BHam. So much fun being with the kids who are rapidly growing into teenage-adults. If Bill and I haven't accomplished much of anything else, we sure enough done good with having 3 children who have managed to become pretty marvelous adults --- and have given us 7 Practically Perfect Grandchildren!!
The plane trip home was a good one -- pleasant people helped us get on the plane, the air was smooth and the flight was fast. It was good to see Mary Anne waiting at the luggage place for us.
Good news on the dog scene. I had Barney overnight and got to love on him a lot; let him sleep with me, and we got up together to go potty. He is such a sweet, cute dog, and he will forever be my First Love. But then this darling little girl Shih Tsu has become our new pet. She is white with brown spots, beautiful brown eyes, and loves to cuddle like a baby!!!
We got her from a Vet whose wife is a student of Mary Anne's. And I am sure I will be in love with her also. It may seem stupid for me to take on one more responsibility, but, hey, what can I say?
I can't come up with a name for her - yet. Any suggestions? Yeah, Mark, I plan to make her second name Bruno. Something like Daisy Bruno?? or Carly Bruno? 'Course I will call her Daisy B.., or Carly B. or Whatever B., doncha know????
The wild presidential election is over and I am glad. I am also optimistic that President Obama will do well. I will pray for him as he assumes an awe-full responsibility to lead our country toward healing and health in so many troubling areas.
I hope to do some more writing for my own pleasure. I love the shape, form, sound, sense, intelligence, of WORDS, and I love trying to use them to express my thoughts, dreams, memories, hopes, and faith. One of the most profound statements about the power of the Word is found in John's gospel -- "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God." --- and then the greatest miracle of all: "The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us."
Goodnight and God bless!
The plane trip home was a good one -- pleasant people helped us get on the plane, the air was smooth and the flight was fast. It was good to see Mary Anne waiting at the luggage place for us.
Good news on the dog scene. I had Barney overnight and got to love on him a lot; let him sleep with me, and we got up together to go potty. He is such a sweet, cute dog, and he will forever be my First Love. But then this darling little girl Shih Tsu has become our new pet. She is white with brown spots, beautiful brown eyes, and loves to cuddle like a baby!!!
We got her from a Vet whose wife is a student of Mary Anne's. And I am sure I will be in love with her also. It may seem stupid for me to take on one more responsibility, but, hey, what can I say?
I can't come up with a name for her - yet. Any suggestions? Yeah, Mark, I plan to make her second name Bruno. Something like Daisy Bruno?? or Carly Bruno? 'Course I will call her Daisy B.., or Carly B. or Whatever B., doncha know????
The wild presidential election is over and I am glad. I am also optimistic that President Obama will do well. I will pray for him as he assumes an awe-full responsibility to lead our country toward healing and health in so many troubling areas.
I hope to do some more writing for my own pleasure. I love the shape, form, sound, sense, intelligence, of WORDS, and I love trying to use them to express my thoughts, dreams, memories, hopes, and faith. One of the most profound statements about the power of the Word is found in John's gospel -- "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God." --- and then the greatest miracle of all: "The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us."
Goodnight and God bless!
Friday, November 7, 2008
Now Hear This
The buzz word for what is happening now seems to be "change." We hear it in differing forms: "We can change," "We will change," "Change is now." And since everyone in the USof A is urged to follow blithely down the road of "Change," I would like to make a few suggestions of change that I would especially like to find in the life of one Voter (me) whose vote is supposed to count for everything, and which I think did count in our recent presidential election.
I voted. I expressed my choice for President. And now we have a New President and a New Congress, and these are the things I would like to see changed by them -- in my lifetime -- in my lifestyle--- in my finances -- and right now!!!
And be clear about this: I want all these things in MY LIFE, which means I'm not really very concerned about YOUR Life, which sounds very self-serving and egocentric, and to be honest, that is what it is!!!
1. I want peace in this world, beginning here in America, extending to Iraq, where I want peace to prevail and I want it RIGHT NOW. That means to pull our soldiers , who have been bleeding and dying in Iraq for 6 years, back to USA so they can become part of the diminishing armed forces that need to be cut in order for more important programs to be financed by our government. We really do need to take care of the conservation of the Great White Hoot Owl in Governor Palin's North Western Part of Alaska. You know, that area that is just "right over there" from Russia. Think of the great impact that kind of compassion will have on our relations with Putin and Mother Russia! They will truly love us for it!! There will be no further need for our President to have to sit down with Putin and talk about how much he admires the Russian ethic of hard work on nuclear plants, and how much we Americans want to be "their buddies."
2. And since I am one of the many Americans who make less than $250,000 a year, I want my taxes cut --- or better still -- I want them eliminated completely. I'm not concerned about capital gains tax cuts , since I don't make enough money to worry about that. All I have to pay is income tax, sales tax, death tax, cigarette and booze tax, school tax, police and firemen's tax, trash hauling tax, gasoline tax, repairmen's tax, utilities tax, cable tax, telephone tax, dental and doctor's tax (so they can make a decent living), and church tax (we call that "tithing.") I'm sure there are some hidden taxes that I'm not even aware of, but the federal government will surely take care of those for me so I can be a happy and contented, and my psyche will be in such good shape that I won't be critical of anything or anyone! That means there will be no flack from me directed at our Leaders In Washington!!! No sir-eee---not from me.
Please start with removing my income tax. After all, my husband and I both worked for sixty years, saved, scrimped, did without, and paid taxes faithfully into Social Security in order to have a really splendid income of $7,000 a month (because we funded an IRA and a Savings Account in addition to SS taxes). We managed to buy and pay for a home and two cars on the way, and didn't accumulate anything on our credit cards that could not be paid off at the end of the month. Sounds peachy, doesn't it???? BUT we still have $600.00 a month drawn out of our retirement account (which goes to the Government's Coffer) so that we will not have to borrow money to pay our income tax at the end of the year.
And so, if you eliminate THAT income tax, I promise I will spend the $600.00 each month and thereby guarantee that the economy will get such a boost that our financial quandary will be solved. Oh, by the way, since it is MY money to spend, I will send $300.00 to my M.D. nephew in China so he can minister to sick and dying Chinese and whisper to them the gospel hope of life eternal; I will increase my gift to World Missions to $200.00 to support another young person in Africa so that now TWO people will have a chance at life. That leaves me a hundred bucks to waste on books, movies, gifts to grandchildren, and a special box of chocolates for JUST ME. I hope this wild and carefree spending on my part will satisfy the idealogues who are so anxious to bail out all our financial establishments who have been led down the path of bankruptcy by corruption, greed, and irresponsibility.
3. And while we are talking, in addition to cutting taxes for me, please let the government take immediate action to CUT the cost of living expenses drastically. That means cut the cost of groceries, clothing, medicine, gasoline, doctor's and dentist bills, repair for cars, houses, lawns, insurance, new TVs, and Miscellaneous Things (anything that I have to pay for that I haven't mentioned will fall under this umbrella.)
4. I think that is about all I need right now. But be sure, if other needs arise, I will look to YOU, The Federal Government, to come to my rescue. I don't want to be coy, but "You promised, you promised. ' Remember? Remember?
5. Now, you (the Government: President, Congress, et. al) have my blessing! Do anything you want to do to make our country great, rich, powerful, and pleasing to the rest of the world. I'm all for it; I'm right behind you!!
What was that? What did you say? How will all of this be paid for? Oh, that's so simple. NAIL THE RICH FOLKS!!! Call on Warren Buffett, Bill Gates, Oprah Winfrey, all the rich CEOs and NFL Football players, and particularly the Movie Stars, and anyone else that makes over $250,000 a year. Let 'em keep their $250,000 and "eat cake." Worked in France, so why not here.
P.S. I'm not available for any Cabinet Post, any Departmental Position in D.C. I've got more important things to do: like sitting in my lounging chair and reading books --- and eating my box of chocolates.
I voted. I expressed my choice for President. And now we have a New President and a New Congress, and these are the things I would like to see changed by them -- in my lifetime -- in my lifestyle--- in my finances -- and right now!!!
And be clear about this: I want all these things in MY LIFE, which means I'm not really very concerned about YOUR Life, which sounds very self-serving and egocentric, and to be honest, that is what it is!!!
1. I want peace in this world, beginning here in America, extending to Iraq, where I want peace to prevail and I want it RIGHT NOW. That means to pull our soldiers , who have been bleeding and dying in Iraq for 6 years, back to USA so they can become part of the diminishing armed forces that need to be cut in order for more important programs to be financed by our government. We really do need to take care of the conservation of the Great White Hoot Owl in Governor Palin's North Western Part of Alaska. You know, that area that is just "right over there" from Russia. Think of the great impact that kind of compassion will have on our relations with Putin and Mother Russia! They will truly love us for it!! There will be no further need for our President to have to sit down with Putin and talk about how much he admires the Russian ethic of hard work on nuclear plants, and how much we Americans want to be "their buddies."
2. And since I am one of the many Americans who make less than $250,000 a year, I want my taxes cut --- or better still -- I want them eliminated completely. I'm not concerned about capital gains tax cuts , since I don't make enough money to worry about that. All I have to pay is income tax, sales tax, death tax, cigarette and booze tax, school tax, police and firemen's tax, trash hauling tax, gasoline tax, repairmen's tax, utilities tax, cable tax, telephone tax, dental and doctor's tax (so they can make a decent living), and church tax (we call that "tithing.") I'm sure there are some hidden taxes that I'm not even aware of, but the federal government will surely take care of those for me so I can be a happy and contented, and my psyche will be in such good shape that I won't be critical of anything or anyone! That means there will be no flack from me directed at our Leaders In Washington!!! No sir-eee---not from me.
Please start with removing my income tax. After all, my husband and I both worked for sixty years, saved, scrimped, did without, and paid taxes faithfully into Social Security in order to have a really splendid income of $7,000 a month (because we funded an IRA and a Savings Account in addition to SS taxes). We managed to buy and pay for a home and two cars on the way, and didn't accumulate anything on our credit cards that could not be paid off at the end of the month. Sounds peachy, doesn't it???? BUT we still have $600.00 a month drawn out of our retirement account (which goes to the Government's Coffer) so that we will not have to borrow money to pay our income tax at the end of the year.
And so, if you eliminate THAT income tax, I promise I will spend the $600.00 each month and thereby guarantee that the economy will get such a boost that our financial quandary will be solved. Oh, by the way, since it is MY money to spend, I will send $300.00 to my M.D. nephew in China so he can minister to sick and dying Chinese and whisper to them the gospel hope of life eternal; I will increase my gift to World Missions to $200.00 to support another young person in Africa so that now TWO people will have a chance at life. That leaves me a hundred bucks to waste on books, movies, gifts to grandchildren, and a special box of chocolates for JUST ME. I hope this wild and carefree spending on my part will satisfy the idealogues who are so anxious to bail out all our financial establishments who have been led down the path of bankruptcy by corruption, greed, and irresponsibility.
3. And while we are talking, in addition to cutting taxes for me, please let the government take immediate action to CUT the cost of living expenses drastically. That means cut the cost of groceries, clothing, medicine, gasoline, doctor's and dentist bills, repair for cars, houses, lawns, insurance, new TVs, and Miscellaneous Things (anything that I have to pay for that I haven't mentioned will fall under this umbrella.)
4. I think that is about all I need right now. But be sure, if other needs arise, I will look to YOU, The Federal Government, to come to my rescue. I don't want to be coy, but "You promised, you promised. ' Remember? Remember?
5. Now, you (the Government: President, Congress, et. al) have my blessing! Do anything you want to do to make our country great, rich, powerful, and pleasing to the rest of the world. I'm all for it; I'm right behind you!!
What was that? What did you say? How will all of this be paid for? Oh, that's so simple. NAIL THE RICH FOLKS!!! Call on Warren Buffett, Bill Gates, Oprah Winfrey, all the rich CEOs and NFL Football players, and particularly the Movie Stars, and anyone else that makes over $250,000 a year. Let 'em keep their $250,000 and "eat cake." Worked in France, so why not here.
P.S. I'm not available for any Cabinet Post, any Departmental Position in D.C. I've got more important things to do: like sitting in my lounging chair and reading books --- and eating my box of chocolates.
Thursday, October 2, 2008
Idiosyncratic Antics of Aged People
Know any Aged Persons who sometimes DO or SAY strange things? You've probably wondered where All That is coming from? Well, it's because a special, peculiar idiosyncrasy just kicked in and they do anything but respond to that peculiar THING; They just can't help themselves!! So it's no good to look at them censoriously or embarrasedly or aghastly -- just go with the flow.
To help you understand what some of these idiosyncrasies are and how they play out in real life here 1s a partial list of them:
1. They are subject to a sudden change in health.
Your Mom wakes up at 5 a.m., calls and says "I hurt all over; I think I am dying, the Good Lord is about to call me home."
You rush over, try to do something, but she prefers just to "lie here a little while" and do nothing.
You happen to see her drive by your house about noon. Call frantically on the cell phone. She says, "Oh, I feel great; Mildred called for me to meet her at lunch."
2. They are subject to a sudden change in mood.
You stop by and your Mom is huddled in an old robe in a fetal position on the couch with all the lights turned off. "What's wrong, Mom?" "I'm having a nervous breakdown; there's no hope for me." You can't give her an electric shock treatment as you would like to, so you go home, worried and upset.
You call at noon. She says brightly, "I'm going to play tennis, my pal the Aged Doctor just called." She giggles like a teenager.
3. Aged People also LIE (fib, prevaricate,stretch-the-truth) A LOT.
A. To their Doctor. "No, I don't have any chest pains,(no open heart surgery for me! No, nothing is changed with my eating habits (No colonoscopy in the offing) ), No, I don't have any trouble breathing, either (No MRI for me.)
"Why am I in your office?" "I've got a little itch in an embarrassing place, Doctor, that's all."
B. To their Opthalmologist. "Yes, I know I have a cataract, but with these new glasses I see quite well." (Nobody is going to poke AROUND in my eyeball if I can help it.)
C. To their Financial Advisor. "No, I don't have a budget; that indicates that you are too concerned about money, and I just trust the Lord to take care of me.
D. To their children. "I understand what you are doing, and it is all right." "Yes, your children are well mannered, well disciplined, really good kids." "No, it really doesn't matter how you spend your money, or if you save any at all." "Yes, I know you are a Baby Boomer and your Group is going to rule the world much better than us WW2 old mossbacks."
E. To their grandchildren. "Yes, I really like the large brass ring in your nose; it sets you off from everybody else." "Yes, your long purple hair is provocative -- in a nice way." "I understand that you are smarter than anyone else in the world --particularly smarter than your parents, or your doddering old grandparents."
F. To their own friends. "I don't feel a day over sixty."
"My children are so concerned about my welfare; I can hardly get away from them." "Oh, we still do a LOT OF THINGS together. "Yes, we are still madly in love; he/she is so thoughtful about anniversary/birthday/other important events." "Of course NOT, I would never think of leaving him/her."
Aged People are also prone to strange physical idiosyncrises:
1. They don't walk. They wobble, stagger, weave back and forth, take tiny, tiny scooting steps, step high when they are going down, step low when they are heading up.
2. They can't talk very well. Their voices are cracked, they mumble, they can't remember simple words, and if they try to sing, it's a disaster beyond belief.
3. They fall asleep at unexpected times --- like when you are talking to them. Or they stay awake all night, remembering things they did 50 years ago.
4. They don't really like to eat much anymore. Probably because everything tastes mostly like buttered cardboard, or looks like squishy goop.
5. They can't drink anyhing alcoholic because --- they already wobble, stagger, weave, etc.etc.
So what is one to do with AGED PERSONS? How about just loving them, crazy as they are; laughing with them, not at them; seeing something spiritual in them and celebrating that.
Life is mostly good, mostly fun, mostly happy, mostly challenging, mostly rewarding. Enjoy it because one day you, too, will be an AGED PERSON, and ------------------------------.
To help you understand what some of these idiosyncrasies are and how they play out in real life here 1s a partial list of them:
1. They are subject to a sudden change in health.
Your Mom wakes up at 5 a.m., calls and says "I hurt all over; I think I am dying, the Good Lord is about to call me home."
You rush over, try to do something, but she prefers just to "lie here a little while" and do nothing.
You happen to see her drive by your house about noon. Call frantically on the cell phone. She says, "Oh, I feel great; Mildred called for me to meet her at lunch."
2. They are subject to a sudden change in mood.
You stop by and your Mom is huddled in an old robe in a fetal position on the couch with all the lights turned off. "What's wrong, Mom?" "I'm having a nervous breakdown; there's no hope for me." You can't give her an electric shock treatment as you would like to, so you go home, worried and upset.
You call at noon. She says brightly, "I'm going to play tennis, my pal the Aged Doctor just called." She giggles like a teenager.
3. Aged People also LIE (fib, prevaricate,stretch-the-truth) A LOT.
A. To their Doctor. "No, I don't have any chest pains,(no open heart surgery for me! No, nothing is changed with my eating habits (No colonoscopy in the offing) ), No, I don't have any trouble breathing, either (No MRI for me.)
"Why am I in your office?" "I've got a little itch in an embarrassing place, Doctor, that's all."
B. To their Opthalmologist. "Yes, I know I have a cataract, but with these new glasses I see quite well." (Nobody is going to poke AROUND in my eyeball if I can help it.)
C. To their Financial Advisor. "No, I don't have a budget; that indicates that you are too concerned about money, and I just trust the Lord to take care of me.
D. To their children. "I understand what you are doing, and it is all right." "Yes, your children are well mannered, well disciplined, really good kids." "No, it really doesn't matter how you spend your money, or if you save any at all." "Yes, I know you are a Baby Boomer and your Group is going to rule the world much better than us WW2 old mossbacks."
E. To their grandchildren. "Yes, I really like the large brass ring in your nose; it sets you off from everybody else." "Yes, your long purple hair is provocative -- in a nice way." "I understand that you are smarter than anyone else in the world --particularly smarter than your parents, or your doddering old grandparents."
F. To their own friends. "I don't feel a day over sixty."
"My children are so concerned about my welfare; I can hardly get away from them." "Oh, we still do a LOT OF THINGS together. "Yes, we are still madly in love; he/she is so thoughtful about anniversary/birthday/other important events." "Of course NOT, I would never think of leaving him/her."
Aged People are also prone to strange physical idiosyncrises:
1. They don't walk. They wobble, stagger, weave back and forth, take tiny, tiny scooting steps, step high when they are going down, step low when they are heading up.
2. They can't talk very well. Their voices are cracked, they mumble, they can't remember simple words, and if they try to sing, it's a disaster beyond belief.
3. They fall asleep at unexpected times --- like when you are talking to them. Or they stay awake all night, remembering things they did 50 years ago.
4. They don't really like to eat much anymore. Probably because everything tastes mostly like buttered cardboard, or looks like squishy goop.
5. They can't drink anyhing alcoholic because --- they already wobble, stagger, weave, etc.etc.
So what is one to do with AGED PERSONS? How about just loving them, crazy as they are; laughing with them, not at them; seeing something spiritual in them and celebrating that.
Life is mostly good, mostly fun, mostly happy, mostly challenging, mostly rewarding. Enjoy it because one day you, too, will be an AGED PERSON, and ------------------------------.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Who's Minding the Store?
I decided I'd better get another blog in or my mind will deteriorate from old age and I won't be able to compose anything of any value -- that is, if I ever do!
With all the excitement of the stock market plunge and the attendant inability of Congress to put together some kind of relief package, I guess my question is "Who's minding the store?" I know this is a very unusual event happening in our country, but, My Gawd, aren't there any intelligent and willing people in our whole country to try and help with the problem? I donno.
I'm sure not happy with all that is happening to our tax money (and our small Smith-Barney account) but I can't get too upset about the whole thing. The Republic has withstood some terrible things in the past, and has survived and I think we will eventually get through this mess.
One advantage that an old person like me (and Bill) is that we have lived through a depression, several wars, social revolutions like the Hippy Movement, the freeing of women from old stereotypes, the acceptance of our black society as a part of our great society, along with the gradual slippy slide downward in our moral standards. Surely, after all that time and experience, we should have some wisdom accumulated from the ride.
Problem is -- who cares?
On to more mundane things: We are so excited about getting another trip to Birmingham next week. We so enjoy being with the Elgins, especially Alex, Alaina, Olivia and Curry. The rejuvenate us with their liveliness, their enthusiasm, their love. It's really great being a grandparent!
And when we get back to Grapevine, one of my first jobs is to find us another Barney to keep us company. WE both have missed that silly little dog romping around and demanding attention. So Mary Anne will have her hands full taking me to kennels to find just the right dog for us!!!
One other thing: I have so appreciated how the SS class at our church has taken us in and become our friends. Honestly, these folks are so great that missing our friends at OKC has faded into the background. It's amazing how the tie of Christian faith binds people together so quickly and so lovingly.
We are getting a land phone on Monday so that Bill will have a quick connection to keep up with me. He has trouble handling the cell phone with its tiny details and this will make him feel more secure if he can check on me by phone whenever he wants to. And it's great fun that I can be out flitting around and not having to worry about getting home at any specific time.
JUST IN CASE YOU ALL HAVEN'T NOTICED ----- Your Mom, Grandma, (whatever) is pretty much a Free Spirit these days, and having a grand time being one. After one is 84 years old (M.C. age) why not do whatever the heck -one wants to do???
(M.C. age - Grandma's age determined by Marie/Curry calculation)
Enough! Peace and Love.
With all the excitement of the stock market plunge and the attendant inability of Congress to put together some kind of relief package, I guess my question is "Who's minding the store?" I know this is a very unusual event happening in our country, but, My Gawd, aren't there any intelligent and willing people in our whole country to try and help with the problem? I donno.
I'm sure not happy with all that is happening to our tax money (and our small Smith-Barney account) but I can't get too upset about the whole thing. The Republic has withstood some terrible things in the past, and has survived and I think we will eventually get through this mess.
One advantage that an old person like me (and Bill) is that we have lived through a depression, several wars, social revolutions like the Hippy Movement, the freeing of women from old stereotypes, the acceptance of our black society as a part of our great society, along with the gradual slippy slide downward in our moral standards. Surely, after all that time and experience, we should have some wisdom accumulated from the ride.
Problem is -- who cares?
On to more mundane things: We are so excited about getting another trip to Birmingham next week. We so enjoy being with the Elgins, especially Alex, Alaina, Olivia and Curry. The rejuvenate us with their liveliness, their enthusiasm, their love. It's really great being a grandparent!
And when we get back to Grapevine, one of my first jobs is to find us another Barney to keep us company. WE both have missed that silly little dog romping around and demanding attention. So Mary Anne will have her hands full taking me to kennels to find just the right dog for us!!!
One other thing: I have so appreciated how the SS class at our church has taken us in and become our friends. Honestly, these folks are so great that missing our friends at OKC has faded into the background. It's amazing how the tie of Christian faith binds people together so quickly and so lovingly.
We are getting a land phone on Monday so that Bill will have a quick connection to keep up with me. He has trouble handling the cell phone with its tiny details and this will make him feel more secure if he can check on me by phone whenever he wants to. And it's great fun that I can be out flitting around and not having to worry about getting home at any specific time.
JUST IN CASE YOU ALL HAVEN'T NOTICED ----- Your Mom, Grandma, (whatever) is pretty much a Free Spirit these days, and having a grand time being one. After one is 84 years old (M.C. age) why not do whatever the heck -one wants to do???
(M.C. age - Grandma's age determined by Marie/Curry calculation)
Enough! Peace and Love.
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Is It Too Much To Ask?
This has been a puzzling and thought-provoking day for me. We had coffee with Mark and Kim this morning, and that was fun and pleasant, as it always is. But this afternoon, for some peculiar reason, a foolish phrase has been running through my mind. (Nothing to do with the morning coffee chatter, honestly.)
And I feel impelled to write about it; I can't get it out of my mind.
Here is the phrase, "Is it too much to ask ..........? To ask whom? Well, just to get the discussion going, put in "the Fates," "the quirky gods of the universe," "blind Chance," the One True God, or anyone or anything else that we poor human beings think is in control of human affairs.
Got that? Now, let's complete the phrase with some grand hypothetical questions. Such as, "is it too much to ask
that starving children in Africa might somehow be fed? Is it too much to ask that a friend painfully dying with terminal cancer be released from agony? Is it too much to ask that a hearbroken parent might find some kind of comfort when he/she can do nothing to stop a child from destruction?
Are these grandiose questions too heavy? Then how about some simple ones?
Is it too much to ask that a frightened child might find comfort in the arms of a sensitive parent?
Is it too much to ask that a middle-aged Mom might find assurance in her heart that all will be well with her teenager?
Is it too much to ask that an Aged Person might feel compassionate love from unexpected sources?
Is it too much to ask that Someone might find unusual kindness from just an acquaintance or friend?
If you happen to be a pessimist or a melancholy person (as I sometimes am) you would answer "Yes, it is too much to ask. Life is not going to give you reasonable answers to these questions that crowd uncomfortably in your heart.
If you are an optimist or a person of faith (as I sometimes am), you would answer, "No, it is not too much to ask," and I will patiently wait for some kind of reasonable response from somewhere in the universe that will give me hope.
Well, that's the phrase that has been bedeviling my thoughts all day. And do you want to know the cause for this quandary, this morass of twisted thinking, this philosophical mismash of nonsensical questions?
Here it is: "Is it too much to ask that an eighty-six year old woman might have a small, frisky, and hellish little dog to keep and love and fret over?"
And the answer is, "Yes, it is too much to ask."
And I am sad. And I am lonely. And I don't understand.
And I feel impelled to write about it; I can't get it out of my mind.
Here is the phrase, "Is it too much to ask ..........? To ask whom? Well, just to get the discussion going, put in "the Fates," "the quirky gods of the universe," "blind Chance," the One True God, or anyone or anything else that we poor human beings think is in control of human affairs.
Got that? Now, let's complete the phrase with some grand hypothetical questions. Such as, "is it too much to ask
that starving children in Africa might somehow be fed? Is it too much to ask that a friend painfully dying with terminal cancer be released from agony? Is it too much to ask that a hearbroken parent might find some kind of comfort when he/she can do nothing to stop a child from destruction?
Are these grandiose questions too heavy? Then how about some simple ones?
Is it too much to ask that a frightened child might find comfort in the arms of a sensitive parent?
Is it too much to ask that a middle-aged Mom might find assurance in her heart that all will be well with her teenager?
Is it too much to ask that an Aged Person might feel compassionate love from unexpected sources?
Is it too much to ask that Someone might find unusual kindness from just an acquaintance or friend?
If you happen to be a pessimist or a melancholy person (as I sometimes am) you would answer "Yes, it is too much to ask. Life is not going to give you reasonable answers to these questions that crowd uncomfortably in your heart.
If you are an optimist or a person of faith (as I sometimes am), you would answer, "No, it is not too much to ask," and I will patiently wait for some kind of reasonable response from somewhere in the universe that will give me hope.
Well, that's the phrase that has been bedeviling my thoughts all day. And do you want to know the cause for this quandary, this morass of twisted thinking, this philosophical mismash of nonsensical questions?
Here it is: "Is it too much to ask that an eighty-six year old woman might have a small, frisky, and hellish little dog to keep and love and fret over?"
And the answer is, "Yes, it is too much to ask."
And I am sad. And I am lonely. And I don't understand.
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Giving Up Barney
I'm having a terrible time giving up our dog, Barney. And I thought writing about it might help, but I don't know.
Mark got a home for him this morning, very quickly, and at first I was elated because it sound like he has a great home and will be happy there, and all the problems we were having with him will be gone.
But I have spent most of the afternoon crying about what has happened. We got the little stinker when he was a puppy and i went through all that agonizing time of trying to teach him to poop and pee outside, and then trying to fit him into our routine so that he would be our pet, and during the process I fell in love with him.
And now he is gone, and I am very sad.
I know that he had to go. We couldn't handle him so that he would not bite Bill and that was too dangerous and too devastating for Bill to handle. And I was nervous as a cat, trying to intervene and keep Barney away from Bill. So I know intellectually that all that has happened was for our good and ultimately, I hope, for Barney's good. I know that, but my emotions don't seem to jibe with my intellect, and so this sadness grips me.
I will get over the loss, I guess, and life will go on. But I have a lump in my throat still, and I don't know when it will go away permanently.
I realize that Barney is just a dog, and that he will be fine with other people who will fall in love with him as I did.
But right now, there is an ache in my heart, and a loneliness for something that was and now is no more.
I have no philosophical explanation that will help, no intellectualism that will lessen the sadness, no insight that will make things better, only a dull sense of despair and unexplainable ennui.
And I am sad.
Life is what it is, and sometimes it is . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Mark got a home for him this morning, very quickly, and at first I was elated because it sound like he has a great home and will be happy there, and all the problems we were having with him will be gone.
But I have spent most of the afternoon crying about what has happened. We got the little stinker when he was a puppy and i went through all that agonizing time of trying to teach him to poop and pee outside, and then trying to fit him into our routine so that he would be our pet, and during the process I fell in love with him.
And now he is gone, and I am very sad.
I know that he had to go. We couldn't handle him so that he would not bite Bill and that was too dangerous and too devastating for Bill to handle. And I was nervous as a cat, trying to intervene and keep Barney away from Bill. So I know intellectually that all that has happened was for our good and ultimately, I hope, for Barney's good. I know that, but my emotions don't seem to jibe with my intellect, and so this sadness grips me.
I will get over the loss, I guess, and life will go on. But I have a lump in my throat still, and I don't know when it will go away permanently.
I realize that Barney is just a dog, and that he will be fine with other people who will fall in love with him as I did.
But right now, there is an ache in my heart, and a loneliness for something that was and now is no more.
I have no philosophical explanation that will help, no intellectualism that will lessen the sadness, no insight that will make things better, only a dull sense of despair and unexplainable ennui.
And I am sad.
Life is what it is, and sometimes it is . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Sunday, August 10, 2008
Keeping Up Appearances
I couldn't think of a good title so I just put "Keeping Up Appearances" because it happens to be one of my favorite British TV shows which I only see occasionally because it comes on at 10:30 on Sunday nights! It is hillarious, and worth staying up to see, but sometimes I don't have the energy to keep my eyes open that late.
So what's happening and how am I keeping up appearances? Not much happening here (favorite quote from my son) but the beat goes on, and I do very ordinary things most of the time. I push myself out the door at least 4 times a week to walk, so that my old bones won't freeze up on me, and that's pretty routine.
I push Bill out the door to get coffee and a sweet roll almost daily because if I don't push he would sleep the rest of his life away. And I enjoy his company. I do all the talking and he nods occasionally to urge me on, and I rail on about whatever is in my emotional agenda to talk about on that particular day.
I've found out that when you are eighty-ish, the hot weather is just about as debilitating and dangerous as if you were in frigid Alaska with temps 50 below zero. When I get inside from doing errands in 100 degree weather, I am panting; my head is kinda dizzy; my legs feel like lead, and all my energy has run out through my toes. So I"m looking forward to the fall weather which is usually invigorating.
I'm subbing at SS at FBC these days for various people. LaRue got my name on the list, and the phone rings a lot. Today I taught the group that is designated "the ladies whose next promotion will be to heaven." They are that old!!! But they were all still alert, still willing to listen, and anxious to add their bits of wisdom to the group. It was kinda fun -- but I don't want any permanent teaching slot -- too much responsibility and hard work.
I find that I am more peaceful and content these days. Don't know exactly why. But when I start to worry about something, or someone, I just have a feeling come over me that worrying is pretty useless and that the people I worry about (my children (old as they are), my grandchildren (who are not my responsibility), and my husband (who is his own person and has to walk his own path), friends (whom I love) who need for me to listen. I usually just voice a short prayer for them, and go on my merry way.
Maybe that's a bit of wisdom I have learned as I get older, and older, and older.
Jesus taught us not to worry, and that we should take life as it comes and trust in Him for what we need. I'm beginning (at this late age) to actually attempt to do that!
Other writers have looked for answers to the questions we have about life and its meaning, and come to some conclusions which may give us some comfort. The atheist Voltaire said, through one of his characters, that the best we can do is "to plant and tend to our own gardens." Which, it seems to me is good advice.
T.S. Eliot said in "The Waste Land" that for some of us it seems like "we have measured out our lives with coffeespoons," suggesting that for the modern man his life may seem inconsequential and meaningless.
And his conclusion (my interpretation only) is a question: "Shall I at least set my lands in order?", suggesting that perhaps that is the best we as humans can do. Or as he further puts it, "These fragments I have shored against my ruins."
You knew I'd get off into literature or philosophy or something else, didn't you?? Well, I find that that happens to me when I start writng and maybe write too long!
But nobody ever died from thinking too much, did they??? I don't know.
So what's happening and how am I keeping up appearances? Not much happening here (favorite quote from my son) but the beat goes on, and I do very ordinary things most of the time. I push myself out the door at least 4 times a week to walk, so that my old bones won't freeze up on me, and that's pretty routine.
I push Bill out the door to get coffee and a sweet roll almost daily because if I don't push he would sleep the rest of his life away. And I enjoy his company. I do all the talking and he nods occasionally to urge me on, and I rail on about whatever is in my emotional agenda to talk about on that particular day.
I've found out that when you are eighty-ish, the hot weather is just about as debilitating and dangerous as if you were in frigid Alaska with temps 50 below zero. When I get inside from doing errands in 100 degree weather, I am panting; my head is kinda dizzy; my legs feel like lead, and all my energy has run out through my toes. So I"m looking forward to the fall weather which is usually invigorating.
I'm subbing at SS at FBC these days for various people. LaRue got my name on the list, and the phone rings a lot. Today I taught the group that is designated "the ladies whose next promotion will be to heaven." They are that old!!! But they were all still alert, still willing to listen, and anxious to add their bits of wisdom to the group. It was kinda fun -- but I don't want any permanent teaching slot -- too much responsibility and hard work.
I find that I am more peaceful and content these days. Don't know exactly why. But when I start to worry about something, or someone, I just have a feeling come over me that worrying is pretty useless and that the people I worry about (my children (old as they are), my grandchildren (who are not my responsibility), and my husband (who is his own person and has to walk his own path), friends (whom I love) who need for me to listen. I usually just voice a short prayer for them, and go on my merry way.
Maybe that's a bit of wisdom I have learned as I get older, and older, and older.
Jesus taught us not to worry, and that we should take life as it comes and trust in Him for what we need. I'm beginning (at this late age) to actually attempt to do that!
Other writers have looked for answers to the questions we have about life and its meaning, and come to some conclusions which may give us some comfort. The atheist Voltaire said, through one of his characters, that the best we can do is "to plant and tend to our own gardens." Which, it seems to me is good advice.
T.S. Eliot said in "The Waste Land" that for some of us it seems like "we have measured out our lives with coffeespoons," suggesting that for the modern man his life may seem inconsequential and meaningless.
And his conclusion (my interpretation only) is a question: "Shall I at least set my lands in order?", suggesting that perhaps that is the best we as humans can do. Or as he further puts it, "These fragments I have shored against my ruins."
You knew I'd get off into literature or philosophy or something else, didn't you?? Well, I find that that happens to me when I start writng and maybe write too long!
But nobody ever died from thinking too much, did they??? I don't know.
Saturday, July 19, 2008
scattered thoughts
I don't feel like writing a coherent , or time oriented blog today, but I will try to write out some scattered thoughts.
Scattered Thought No. 1 - Yesterday I bought a new TENNIS RACQUET ---for me. It's the newest one on the market and is really slick looking. Got it from my former tennis teacher for 50 bucks (he said it sold for 150.00).
Now the weird part, as most of you know, is that I haven't played tennis, or even been on a tennis court for 2 years!! So why do I need a NEW tennis racquet?
Best reply to that WHY is to consider another question.
Which is "AND "WHY haven't I been on a tennis court?"
Because I had reasoned with myself, an (84, 85,or 86 year old -(take your pick) old lady, that I shouldn't be so foolish as to keep testing fate by running across the tennis court and maybe falling down!!
Well, pooh to that. I took said tennis racquet and hit some balls with Mary Anne and Ben yesterday and it was fun. Of course, I'm rusty as a nail, have forgot all the good instructions I've had, and just slammed the ball around the court like a rank beginner.
There is a moral to this chatter. For one thing, don't put stupid restrictions on yourself as to what you can or cannot do ---- simply because of your age. I actually hit a few good balls back to Mary, I didn't fall down, and I was able to walk to the car and get home without collapsing! SO -- I did something I didn't think I could (or should), and I had fun.
Second point. I MISSED PLAYING tennis for two years. What a waste! I got two years older anyhow, maybe a tick more senile and tottery anyhow, and that "gone" time is irretrievable.
Get the message??? Don't miss out on life by being too careful!
Scattered thought No. 2. Much to the chagrin of my sinful pride and my serene confidence that I was at least fairly mature in my spiritual outlook on life, I learned, through a video Bible study by an intelligent, fiery, black young lady, that I had an aged, stereotypical, and "set in concrete" view of the Holy Spirit of God and His work in a Christian life.
I can't even summarize the new truths that have bombarded my soul after listening to this woman speak. I'm still trying to apprehend, assimilate, and appropriate new insights that came from her sermon into my thinking and living!!
It's not that I was completely wrong in my theology; it's just that I had forgot that it is impossible for one human being to completely understand God, and that I am very foolish to try to box Him into my own fragile and finite view of of Who He IS and What He Should Do, and How He Should Do It.
I got the message!
Enough of this stuff.
Bye now!
Scattered Thought No. 1 - Yesterday I bought a new TENNIS RACQUET ---for me. It's the newest one on the market and is really slick looking. Got it from my former tennis teacher for 50 bucks (he said it sold for 150.00).
Now the weird part, as most of you know, is that I haven't played tennis, or even been on a tennis court for 2 years!! So why do I need a NEW tennis racquet?
Best reply to that WHY is to consider another question.
Which is "AND "WHY haven't I been on a tennis court?"
Because I had reasoned with myself, an (84, 85,or 86 year old -(take your pick) old lady, that I shouldn't be so foolish as to keep testing fate by running across the tennis court and maybe falling down!!
Well, pooh to that. I took said tennis racquet and hit some balls with Mary Anne and Ben yesterday and it was fun. Of course, I'm rusty as a nail, have forgot all the good instructions I've had, and just slammed the ball around the court like a rank beginner.
There is a moral to this chatter. For one thing, don't put stupid restrictions on yourself as to what you can or cannot do ---- simply because of your age. I actually hit a few good balls back to Mary, I didn't fall down, and I was able to walk to the car and get home without collapsing! SO -- I did something I didn't think I could (or should), and I had fun.
Second point. I MISSED PLAYING tennis for two years. What a waste! I got two years older anyhow, maybe a tick more senile and tottery anyhow, and that "gone" time is irretrievable.
Get the message??? Don't miss out on life by being too careful!
Scattered thought No. 2. Much to the chagrin of my sinful pride and my serene confidence that I was at least fairly mature in my spiritual outlook on life, I learned, through a video Bible study by an intelligent, fiery, black young lady, that I had an aged, stereotypical, and "set in concrete" view of the Holy Spirit of God and His work in a Christian life.
I can't even summarize the new truths that have bombarded my soul after listening to this woman speak. I'm still trying to apprehend, assimilate, and appropriate new insights that came from her sermon into my thinking and living!!
It's not that I was completely wrong in my theology; it's just that I had forgot that it is impossible for one human being to completely understand God, and that I am very foolish to try to box Him into my own fragile and finite view of of Who He IS and What He Should Do, and How He Should Do It.
I got the message!
Enough of this stuff.
Bye now!
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