Advent Came Early

There are many traditions around Christmas trees and Advent. Advent is approximately 40 days before Christmas and commemorates the birth of Christ and His coming again. Some sources say it provides a time for us to prepare our hearts for Him in the midst of the Christmas rush. If you want a resource for Advent meanings, prayers and traditions you might refer to this link https://www.crosswalk.com/special-coverage/christmas-and-advent/the-beautiful-meaning-and-purpose-of-advent.html

There was a time when Christians did not put up a tree until Christmas eve. This year with our household being likely the first one in our neighborhood with a tree up, decorated and lit we have broken all kinds of traditions. However, being retired and not caught up in the “Christmas rush” of past years, this has given me an opportunity to think on the birth of Christ and His coming again in a new way.

Recently at our sharing group among the Transfiguration Associates I shared my thoughts about placing an angel on the tree top or crown? Pondering why I would want the glittery crown I was reminded of Bible teachings such as King of kings, and Lord of lords, Prince of peace, the many regal titles given to my Lord.

In the evening we have lights under the edge of our kitchen counter. They calmly twinkle in many colors. I see them reflected in the glitter on the treetop crown. And I am drawn into “Crown Him with many crowns, the Lamb upon the Throne.”

Our discussion also covered a Scriptural discussion about angels. The angels in the Bible are described as looking like men and having a huge presence. Most of our ornamental angels look like women and are depicted in flowing gowns. I assured my friends that there are plenty of angel ornaments on our tree as well as around the room. I am thinking this crown is just the thing to keep my heart and mind on celebrating the coming of my Lord!

I have seen trees decorated with flowing ribbons. I am thinking of placing ribbons on our tree with the titles of Jesus written upon them. Stay tuned for a posting if I actually do that! In the meantime, Our tree is adorned with a crown to remind us Who our hearts bow to.

The traditional Advent themes are hope, preparation, joy and adoration. I am praying that Bob and I will celebrate those things as we await His coming again in glory. May your home be filled with these things, too.

Bob, Lucky and the Singing Squirrel

For years there has been a joke circulating about Bob and the squirrels. When we lived on Danny Drive he would get upset at the squirrels for eating the bird food. Occasionally he would get out his BB gun and have at one.

He told the grandchildren that in our yard there was a one eyed squirrel, a tailless squirrel and a three-legged squirrel because the sight on the BB gun was so lousy, (never that he was not a very good shot). If he did kill a squirrel he never told them. I said if he killed one he would have to skin it and nail the pelt to the shed as a warning for other squirrels to stay away.

At our house on Siesta Drive he would occasionally get one. We installed a spring on the bird feeder that was hanging over the edge of the deck (with a twenty foot drop to the ground). That squirrel was so confused and frustrated that he could not feed upside down and gorge himself on bird seed.

What have you done?!?!?!

He would climb out on the pole and touch the bird feeder. It would bounce and he would retreat. First day I think he did it 8 times before he gave up!

Some years ago our daughter and Grandgirl Ellie gave him a mechanical singing, dancing squirrel.

We stored the squirrel with Christmas things. This year when we brought him out Bob sometimes tormented Lucky with the squirrel. He would turn on the music and watch her retreat in fear. He would turn on the music and set it next to her. She would run a safe distance away and watch. Remember that Lucky is a rescue. She has been with us for over 1-1/2 years. Our daughter, Emily, had told us we might need to live with her for more than 2 years for her to show her true self to us.

I have never gotten Lucky to play with toys unless I put a treat in them. I have sewn elastic to the legs of some toys so I can attach treats for her. Once the treat is eaten she ignores the toy. Realize she was caged the first 4 years of her life and never had toys, so yes, she is clueless. Throw a ball and she looks at you asking “Now what?”

Imagine my surprise when I was crocheting Levi’s Christmas gift, watching TV one late afternoon and Lucky went to the table to sniff the mechanical Squirrel.

Next she put her claws on its foot and dragged it to the loveseat with her. Before I knew it she knocked it the floor and began chewing. Bob was working at his computer in the office. I texted him to come see.

Bob went back to work. You can see Lucky’s face when he walks in again at end of clip.

Before we knew it she carried the squirrel off to where he was working in the office. I told him we had to be careful she doesn’t try to eat it, wires, batteries, fringe on scarf, fake fur, etc.

I went into office a few minutes later and she had chewed out one eye. Thank goodness the pieces were all there!

Yes, then we removed it from her reach. Bob wants me to make an eye patch as he finally owns his one eyed squirrel.

What baffles me is she had been alone all morning while we went to the 25 year church reunion. So glad she did not tear it up then. We could not have protected her. Perhaps she was waiting to see what our reaction would be? How do dogs think?

Remember the new Christmas tree?

She has now dragged out Snoopy, who fortunately has sewn patches for eyes. No danger there! Wonder how Charlie Brown will taste to her?

Grooks

In 1966 Piet Hein published a little book of poetry entitled Grooks. It brought me cheer and challenge. The cover says he began” writing Grooks during Nazi occupation of Denmark. They were, quite literally, underground literature – Piet Hein was in hiding as as resistance leader. …they enabled Danes to talk to one another about what really mattered in a range just beyond German understanding and several octaves beyond Nazi sensitivities. “

A Maxim for Vikings

Here is a fact that should help you fight a bit longer.

Things that don’t actually kill you outright make you stronger.

Yes, that has challenged and comforted me through many, many years. Now I have passed my 71st birthday. We have a tiny (by comparison to past houses) front garden. Each spring at other locations I would participate in what I called “Death by Gardening,” cleaning up the flower beds and putting in a new perennial or two. Suffering the consequences for days and at times weeks afterward.

Bob had planted over 200 of my favorite daffodil bulbs at the last house. When we were packing last spring, I was lamenting leaving that glorious daffodil display. One friend bought me two pots of large daffodils to plant at our new house. I nurtured those bulbs through the spring and into the summer awaiting a flower bed. Another friend attended our open house and gifted us with a sack of daffodil bulbs and a sack of tulip bulbs.

Our weather went from summer hot (think 80s) to chilly (think 40s). For the last few days we have entertained 60 degrees. Twice I have gone out to plant a few bulbs. Whereas I used to spend 3 or 4 hours in the garden I am no longer able to do that due to fibromyalgia and arthritis. Now I might spend 45 minutes or so.

Here is the deal. When Ryan built this house, they delivered tons of huge gravel for the eventual driveway. First, the crane parked there to lift the walls and roof trusses into place and then the construction dumpster sat on it.

The rocks spread. Then the driveway and sidewalk were concreted and the rocks spread.

Rocks throughout the rain sitting on top of the clay

Then the grading machine came to shape the yard and the rocks spread. Our son advised adding inches of good topsoil to the garden area before they came to put in our plants and single tree. We did that with his help.

So now this old lady is out trying to plant flower bulbs. The soil and top layer of mulch have settled. The bulb digger is a handy gadget we have used for years.

Here is the current struggle. To plant the daffodil bulb at the suggested depth (about 6 inches), I twist the bulb digger to make a hole. Before I reach 6 inches deep the digger hits either clay or rock or BOTH. The clay is wet and will not drop out of the digger, so each attempt the clay must be removed with the dandelion remover. This is no longer a simple matter of place a few bulbs in the ground!

“Things that don’t actually kill you outright…” Make me ache and moan and groan the next day. Actually I was gasping for air and having trouble getting upright after planting, too.

What was I thinking? I have this gardening bug that makes me believe I am 27 instead of living into my 72nd year. I want to plant and grow things. I delight to see flowers blooming and bobbing in the breeze.

I must try to content myself with a few lovely daffodils and let go of the glories Bob planted for me in the past. I placed the clods of clay into a flexible tub. It was so heavy when I finished placing about 15 bulbs I could barely drag it to the sidewalk, much less dump it in the garbage can.

Weighty Clay Clods

Ryan homes has done nothing yet regarding the drainage problems in our backyard. I had hope for a perennial bed out there by now. The mums and aster from this fall will need to be thrown out as there is no place to put them in the ground for the winter.

“Make you stronger …” Maybe this yard will make me strong enough to embrace gracefully that I am no longer a strong young woman? The crocus bulbs are in. All the plants we brought with us are in the ground (thanks mostly to Bob and son Jeff). I will see if I have grown wiser when the new plants are available in the spring?

Wiser to embrace the blessings I have and release the ones that have passed as my younger years fade away. Oh Lord, You know how much help I need with this!

The grass withers, the flower fades;

    but the word of our God will stand forever.

Isaiah 40:8

Church Anniversary Celebration

Sunday, November 7 we were invited to attend the 25th celebration of the Milford Vineyard church. We were glad to do that and looking forward to seeing old acquaintances. The church had moved to a newer location since we attended there.

There were many familiar faces and a few names I could not remember to go with those faces. Ugh. Perhaps the best was a greeting as I first walked in the door!

The conversation went like this. “Oh hello! I was just thinking about you this morning. I am so glad to see you. Look! She was my FIRST prayer partner!!” Jay H. was in joyous fine form and I was delighted to see him, too.

Once upon a time at Milford Vineyard I was in charge of scheduling the prayer teams for after service prayer and for prophetic communion. We had teams of two available after every service for intercession. Prophetic communion was a time when those teams would come together to pray over people. Some would come with specific requests but most were just seeking what the Lord would say to them. We did not believe we had a fast track to God, just were willing to listen and have the courage to speak into the lives of those who came forward. We tried to separate anything we knew about the person and just listened for what the Lord wanted to say. We always cautioned people to go to the Lord themselves with the things we said and seek His face and His voice. None of us were infallible. He is the best source for healing and guidance.

A friend told me she had a funny memory of me. Once when the pastor was going off on another of his endless rabbit trails I spoke up and said, “Come on! Finish up! We have other important things to do like communion and prayer.” She was impressed that I said it and thought it needed to be said.

Another woman pulled me aside at the end of the service. I did not recognize her with her mask on. When I asked her to pull it down for a moment I faintly recognized her. She wanted me to know she had recognized me and always remembers me as a strong prayer warrior. I thought, “Hmm, after all these years!”

I guess I made a stronger impact than I knew. After the service, one man said his daughter still has the baby blanket I made her. Once she even drew her bunny wrapped in the blanket. He wanted to show me the drawing but had difficulty finding it on his phone. I gave him my email and told him he could send it when he found it. I would delight to see it!

It was a good reunion. It was wonderful to worship in the Vineyard tradition. I miss that sort of worship where I can enter into His presence and find mercy, grace and rest. We sang the following song, Another one of my favorites!

Sweetly Broken Jeremy Riddle

1990 Retreat

Here is another way the Lord communicates with me.

April 27, 1990 Friday, Milford Jesuit Center Walking along Little Miami river bank. During a retreat I took a prayerful walk. Quieting myself I was walking slowly and trying to just see what the Lord wanted me to see.

The first stone I was led to pick up looked like a bone. I  seemed to hear this Transient life is passing away and in time will cease to exist. Transient: passing through or by a place with only a brief stay or sojourn.

Porous stone that represents words – air vibrating through vocal chords Transubstantiates words to stone. Change in another substance. Cannot be recalled once spoken.

A caramel stone that lets light in translucent – light shines or glows through it … admitting and diffusing light. Help me to be translucent with Your light.

Gold glitter in pink stone. The serendipities of life. Life as a serendipitist – one who finds valuable or agreeable things not sought for. Show me Your joys Lord.

Hard brown stone of unforgiveness. Impervious to light, not permitting penetration by light or passage. Incapable of being influenced or affected. Impenetrable – inaccessible to knowledge, reason, sympathy. NOT to be moved by logic or persuasion.

And then I saw one more. A stone that had angles on it. I bent to pick it up and it was actually buried in the soil. As I dug around the stone to unearth it discovered it was very large, like the stone the angel rolled away. Indeed, it represented to me the resurrected Christ who makes all the other stones pure and good and holy. This transient life will be transformed into eternal life with Him. The words transubstantiated into rock  that cannot be taken back can be forgiven. The translucent light He shines through my life will one day become the light of heaven, where we do not need sun or moon or stars for light, (REV 21:23-24) The city does not need the sun or the moon to shine on it, for the glory of God gives it light, and the Lamb is its lamp. The nations will walk by its light, and the kings of the earth will bring their splendor into it. The serendipities of life will become everlasting joy (ISA 35:10, 55:11, 60:15 and 61:7). Unforgiveness is changed by forgiveness in Christ. As He has forgiven so should we. (EPH 4:32)

Yes, the large stone, the resurrection of Jesus and His triumph over the grave, death and sin are ours. We must remember and celebrate that! I eventually found a plastic statue of Jesus with His arms raised in victory to put with the large stone.

Several times over the years I have misplaced the small stones. April 19, 2011 I searched the house for the plastic resurrected Jesus and placed it on the mantel with the stone. “I put Him on the mantel once again with the stone the angel rolled away. I need to find the journal where I wrote about the discovery of that stone – at Milford, near the river, and the impact on me as the Lord sent me picking stones one by one, as He used them to teach me. Yes, Lord, I am Yours.”

I keep that large stone as a reminder to me of His amazing work on our behalf. And yes, I keep the plastic statue to remind me His work is ongoing, even in me.

David had 5 stones in his bag as he faced Goliath.

In 1 Samuel 17:40 it says, “Then he {David} took his staff in his hand and chose five smooth stones from the brook and put them in his shepherd’s pouch. His sling was in his hand, and he approached the Philistine.”

I believe with these six stones {David did not have the benefit of the resurrected Christ} I can conquer challenges in my life, and so can you!

Dr. Fauci is Missing

I don’t know quite how to break this to you, so I will just say it outright. Dr. Fauci is missing.

During the height of the pandemic some of us had more ready cash than we were accustomed to having. Shopping in the local stores was reduced and most of us stayed in. In 2020 the State of Ohio (or someone) offered bobble-heads of Dr. Fauci and the Governor of Ohio, Mike De Wine. I have a friend who was 9 years old at the time and loved the Governor. I am married to a man of science (read employed 40 years in a hospital laboratory) and we like Dr. Fauci.

I figured the baseball guys have bobble-heads. I had never owned one, so why not? With my extra cash I purchased one the Governor for my friend and Dr. Fauci for us.

He adorned our dining room table for months. I was amused by his moving head. Carefully kept the materials he was packed in so when we wanted to store him it would be with care.

The nine year old loved his Governor De Wine bobble-head which he received for Christmas.

Then came the big house purchase and move. When it came time to pack Dr. Fauci I could not find his box. I searched and searched, but no luck. By then many boxes had been packed and sealed. I carefully wrapped him in tissue and bubble wrap, wanting to protect his bobbing mechanism.

Dr. Fauci is missing. We have emptied almost every single box. I now have the original box he arrived in. But Dr. Fauci is still missing!

Our man of science

Soon we will retrieve the Christmas decoration boxes from the storage bin we rent. Perhaps I put him in one of those? If not, I might have to purchase the new one they produced when he was named to the current President’s cabinet from Bobble head hall of fame.

We still believe in science over fiction. Vaccines save lives, as do boosters. Whether you understand his decision or not, please love your neighbor enough to get vaccinated.

I will let you know when we find him!

Happy Birthday to Me!

Wow. Turning 71 years old … actually that means I will be in year 72! I still like gifts. And coconut cake is the best! Either Lyn’s homemade recipe or Sam’s Club. Sam’s is huge and yummy. Seems parts of me will never grow up. Though most parts have grown out!

The story goes that when I was born the cord was around my neck. I was known as a ‘blue baby’. When I pinked up my Dad wanted to call me Cherry. My mother let him choose the middle name Cheryl.

I have been clinging to this verse for several years.

O God, from my youth you have taught me, and I still proclaim your wondrous deeds. So even to old age and gray hairs, O God, do not forsake me, until I proclaim your might to all the generations to come. Your power and your righteousness, O God, reach the high heavens. You who have done great things, O God, who is like you?

Psalm 71:17-19 NRSV

Today I was directed to this one!

Listen to me, O house of Jacob, all the remnant of the house of Israel, who have been borne by me from your birth, carried from the womb; even to your old age I am he, even when you turn gray I will carry you. I have made, and I will bear; I will carry and will save.

Isaiah 46:3-4 NRSV

Repeatedly EVEN TO …. old age and gray hairs! Seems like a happy birthday wish to me!

In 2009 I wrote this story about a turtle at the pond. The photos were taken in July, but I think the story is perennial. This is how some of my prayers and insights evolve.


I came upon a turtle at the pond today. I missed her completely the first time I walked past. She was totally camouflaged by duck weed. The lily leaves were withering and the ones left standing placed shadows around her similar to the shape of her shell. I took one photo and drew closer to the water’s edge for another, hoping she would not slip into the water and vanish completely from my sight.

I posed no threat as she remained in her position on the log. I began to realize that she must be a very old turtle by her size. As I changed my position along the shore, I could see her more clearly.

I noticed the lily leaves, first as obstacles to my photographic efforts, and then as tattered, themselves old from a hot summer of sun and storms and wind. I was reminded of the poem I wrote at the Cincinnati Nature Center 19 years ago about the lily pads, and the subsequent admonition from the Lord to me, “Perhaps I could ask you just to be a lily leaf. Fill up with mercurial spheres and overflow. Stand and tip. Ponder this My lily shield.”

(To read entire poem see https://wordpress.com/post/treasures-in-plain-sight.org/6669 )

Here I am at the same location these many years later, seeking solace and direction at my current age in my current state.

The next photo attempt brought the lovely lily bloom into my photographic range. I had seen a dropped petal in the weeds along the shoreline. It was fresh and somewhat velvety as I placed it between folds of paper in my journal. When I tried to frame the next photo, the blossom made for good composition. Tired leaves, old turtle, flower blooming, though fading.  Suddenly I was looking at a mini portrait of my life in the very frog pond that inspired me so many years ago. I have been wrestling with the topic of aging with the pain and distress that seem to be increasing in my body as I age. 2 Corinthians 4: 16-18 came to mind: “Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.”  

I had recently mentioned to my husband that I do not like to grow white roses as the petals begin to darken with the slightest bruising. Here I see a creamy lily flower bearing the beating of sun wind and storms and barely showing the effects in her waxy petals. The aging turtle remained on the log, still enjoying her sunbath, unperturbed by one woman on the shore taking digital photos. The lily leaves though tattered, yet most still erect on their flexible stalks, able to gather a summer shower and tip when the pad is full.

At first glance my negative mind set cries, “Just look at her! Surrounded by decay and destruction! Duckweed hanging on her lovely shell. Leaves decaying and spoiled all around her! All alone on that log!”  Then as I ponder, I realize her wisdom caused her to cover her shell with duckweed to blend in, her courage in taking a sunbath even if the other turtles choose not to, and regardless of her surroundings she is looking up, and even now, the changes in my attitude begin. Upon closer inspection I can see the lovely colors in her neck, the awesome nails and webbing in her feet. The coloring continues around the under-edge of her shell into her legs.

Most importantly, I realize she is looking up, as I am called to do, fixing my eyes upon things eternal.  Letting go of the obvious pain and aging issues, I am able to relax on my favorite bench and simply soak in the pond activity: belching frogs, passing humans, bird song and noonday joy.

“Stand and tip. Ponder this My lily shield.”

May I too have wisdom and courage and the ability to always look up!

Power in Listening

When I first gave my life back to Christ one of the first songs to capture me was based on Isaiah 55.

“Come, all you who are thirsty,

    come to the waters;

and you who have no money,

    come, buy and eat!

Come, buy wine and milk

    without money and without cost.

Why spend money on what is not bread,

    and your labor on what does not satisfy?

Listen, listen to me, and eat what is good,

    and you will delight in the richest of fare.

Give ear and come to me;

    listen, that you may live.

I will make an everlasting covenant with you,

    my faithful love promised to David.

Isaiah 55: 1-3

As we read and grow in our spiritual life it is amazing how you can read a familiar Scripture and have a new insight that never seemed to occur to you before! I was reading Ben Palpant’s book Letters from the Mountain and I was struck by his observation on verses 2 and 3.

I have studied meditation. I have practiced it for many years. With all my interest in listening for the voice of the Lord why did I not remember the admonitions in Isaiah 55? “Listen, listen to Me. Give ear and come to Me, LISTEN.”

I was hit like the Memorex man!

“Listen carefully. Hear and your soul shall live. Incline your ear to me and come.”

Father, open my ears that I may better hear You. Help me be sensitive to Your still, small voice. Speak but the word and my soul shall be saved.

Have you quieted your inner chatter to listen lately? Well worth the effort. I know it takes practice to turn down that inner chatter, but it is possible to do it. Only with practice have I made progress on that. Even then, there are times the chatter is loud and disturbing. Don’t give up. Read the word. Sit with the reading. Wait on the Lord.

Looking Back Over Your Shoulder

In 1 Kings 19:9-13 Elijah was exhausted and hiding in a cave from Jezebel who wanted his life. Twice the Lord came to Elijah and asked, “What are you doing here, Elijah?” And twice Elijah gave the same answer. The story has been made known because the Lord said Elijah was to go stand on the mountain and watch because the Lord would be passing by. After the wind, and the earthquake and the fire, when Elijah heard the sheer silence, he went out and stood at the entrance to the cave. Some translations says God was in the silence via a still small voice.

There have been times when I have lived and moved in obedience to the Lord, not always even understanding that He was leading me. Yet His still small voice confirmed His presence, albeit later.

I was taught courage at an early age. Most every Sunday afternoon my parents would drop us off at the movie theater. Though she was two years older, my sister was too introverted to ask for tickets at the movie theater. The story goes that I could barely be seen by the lady in the booth. Regardless, I would ask for the tickets and probably gave her the money, too.

Many years later when my family fell into chaos it was my courage and willingness to speak truth that got my sister and I out of the house safely.

Another example started in high school. We had to choose a topic for a paper. I decided I wanted to write about the Cincinnati Workhouse. I obtained permission to tour the women’s section. I think my mom drove me there, but honestly, I do not remember. Why was that paper important? Many years later when given the opportunity to teach a women’s study in the County Jail it seemed just a good idea to me. No fear, no hesitation. Had I not written that paper or learned about courage, would I have been obedient to the Lord when the time came? I think He prepared me, His servant, for those events.

More often than not, I see the hand of the Lord over my shoulder, after the fact. This is not a mind game, but the reality of our Living Lord working through His Holy Spirit.

This hymn sums it up for me. Listen to at least the first minute!

Can you reflect upon your life and see how God has led you along the journey? Likely I could list many other examples, but more important is for you to reflect on your experiences and discern His hand at work.

James Hollis said, “Learning to live with ambiguity is learning to live with how life really is, full of complexities and strange surprises.”

Writing

I have enjoyed keeping a journal using bound paper books and cartridge pens with flowing ink, Bic “crystal” pens, pencils, colored pencils, Flair felt tip pens, quadrille paper, bound journals, etc. The last few years I have typed most of my entries and pasted them in a paper journal or just left them on the computer. Arthritis has made my handwriting a mess.

From some entries I have created 3 x 5 reminder cards, then later 4 x 6 reminder cards to keep me on the path laid out before me. I have several decks of those cards. I cannot part with them as they have been important to my journey. My journals also have photographs, ticket stubs, magazine clippings, news headlines, all sorts of things in them.

As I go back and read this personal history the most important things are when I recorded interactions with the Lord. Reading those entries I also know how lame my words are to describe what really happened. Yet, I did make an attempt to capture the grandeur!

1-1/2 shelves of journals. More writing in the notebooks below!

Sometimes I read an entry and remember vividly where and I was and what happened. Other times I read an entry in my own hand and have no recall of the event. So strange!

Then the Lord answered me and said:
Write the vision;
    make it plain on tablets,
    so that a runner may read it.

Habakkuk 2:2

As with my baptismal vows, I reply, “I will with God’s help.”

Last Sunday a Pastor asked, “How do you make God smile? What pleases Him?” He stressed evangelism. Today in prayer I told the Lord, “I want to know what pleases You today?”

The response seemed to be Psalm 34 . Once I wrote in my Bible that Psalm 34 is VULNERABILITY UNLTD. Unlimited vulnerability, giving Him access to every hour of every day.

I will bless the Lord at all times;

    his praise shall continually be in my mouth.

My soul makes its boast in the Lord;

    let the humble hear and be glad.

O magnify the Lord with me,

    and let us exalt his name together.

I sought the Lord and He answered me,

And delivered me from all my fears.

Look to Him and be radiant;

So your face shall never be ashamed.

This poor soul cried, and was heard by the Lord,

And was saved from every trouble.”

Psalm 34:1-6

Pastor also asked, “What can I do to help God have delight?”

Be honest with the 160 or so readers. That surprised me. Occasionally Word Press tells me how many people are following or reading my blog. I should not be, but I was surprised that the Lord knows, too. So to the 150 or 160 of you I will try to be honest as I write the blog.

Over the years in light of this question I have asked the Lord, “What would You like to do together today?” Today when I asked the response was:

Write and the day will unfold. Yes, He knows I try to reserve Monday and Tuesday (at least the mornings) for writing this blog and then post Wednesday through Sunday. So I am writing entries and trying to just let things unfold.

I am grateful for the time I have spent journaling. There were times it was very, very difficult. There were times it was good for me. Bob has always encouraged me. The fact that I have this written history for part of my life and material to share on the blog – likely more material than I will ever use – makes me joyful now. God knows how to keep us as His children!