Did You Survive Christmas?

How was your Christmas? As you might surmise from this picture, mine was pretty good. My granddaughter, Regan, was really into Christmas presents this year. At 4 years old, she was old enough to anticipate the holiday, with all the same excitement her older brother, Aidan, has had for the past couple of years now. We may not always be as blessed with good fortune, but for this Christmas, we were blessed and unworthy of all God has provided.

What was your initial response to my question? Well, I survived! If so, what made it simply one in which you survived as if coming through a bad storm? Were there too many people at your celebration as you "suffered" though the noise of all the relatives talking? Did all the shopping, cleaning up, decorating and wrapping presents cause you anxiety and stress? Did you fret over the presents you were giving this year? Were you ready for the relatives to just leave so you could enjoy peace and quiet?

Whatever your answer to the questions posed here, let me offer an alternate answer to my question, How was your Christmas?

This year my health was better than it has been in many years. This year I have a job. This year I can sleep knowing I am in a safe place. This year, I was happy to be with people I love. This year we were blessed to afford to give something to others. This year I slept in a warm bed instead of outside on a cold piece of cardboard. This year I got to see my grandchildren. This year my husband and I got to see a church Christmas program staring our grandchildren. This year we got to see our youngest granddaughter in the same room with her great-great- aunt. This year a son unable to be with us, called to say Merry Christmas! This year our sons still say I love you Mom and Dad, and mean it. This year I do not have to worry where my children are.

Blessings for no reason have befallen us all and we need to take notice. God has given us boundless mercy and gifts beyond our dreams no matter how big or small. Look at the messy house after the family leaves, the dirty dishes in the sink, the larger than normal trash on the curb and the pictures taken around the Christmas tree and think, I am blessed!

How was our Christmas? Blessed beyond what we deserve.
Thank you God, for sending your son in the form of a baby some 2010 years ago. We didn't deserve it then and we don't deserve it now, but we're eternally grateful. Amen.

BLT presents "You're A Good Man, Charlie Brown"

Bring the whole family to see “You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown”!

Reservations are being taken at this time for the Baytown Little Theater special, You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown. The musical based on the Charles Shultz Peanuts cartoon characters, was written by Clark Gesner and is directed by John Morales. Come join Charlie Brown and all the gang for a fun evening at the BLT. The whole cast is comprised of BLT veteran actors that you will not want to miss. So, call 281-424-7617 today for reservations or go online to baytown.littletheater.org to order your tickets directly from the website. When calling the BLT phone, please leave your name, phone number, the date you wish to attend and the number of tickets you wish to order. A return call will be made as soon as possible. Please have a major credit card ready to pay for your tickets. Box office personnel will check messages daily, except for Sundays and Dec. 24 & 25, from now through January 10, 2010.

A Special New Year’s Eve performance and party will open the production on December 31 at 9:00 p.m. In addition to the performance, a catered meal, champagne and party favors will compliment the New Year’s Eve celebration. Audience members have fun ringing in the New Year with the cast and crew of “You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown”. The ticket price for this special event is $50.00 per ticket.

Other show dates are Jan. 2, 8 & 9 at 8:00 p.m. and Jan. 3 & 10 at 2:30 p.m. Ticket prices for these performances are $15.00. All tickets much be paid for in advance of the show. Please have a major credit card available. If you wish to pay by cash or check, arrangements can be made upon request.

You will want to bring the whole family to this special BLT production. Go to baytown.littletheater.org and order your tickets today or call 281-424-7617 NOW!!!

CAST:
Charlie Brown—Kim Martin
Lucy—Julie Bailey
Snoopy—Wally Whitley
Sally—Tammy Calaway
Linus—John Brokaw
Schroeder—John Meiners

Baytown Little Theater location:

4328 Hugh Echols Blvd.

Baytown, TX 77521

Christmas Present

It is cold outside and raining down through the fall leaves. It must be almost Christmas in Southeast Texas. This is the weather that puts us in the spirit of the season. We got to enjoy white flakes of snow falling from the clouds last week. That was special, but after living in this region all of my life, I'll put my snow boots away for at least another year. Though rare, what a blessing it was for so many children and adults in this region, to experience even the little snow that stuck, for the first time ever in their lives!

The fireplace has already been blazing more this year than it does most Winters. Hallmark has been cranking out Christmas movies everyday. The stories with a moral message and happy endings inspire us to be a better person. I have watched many versions of the Ebenezer Scrooge character learning he has been a fool all of his life, hording his money and passing on true love. However, there is more to the message here than simply allowing life to happen all around while you squander yours. Scrooge, as revealed by the ghost of Christmas past, is a product of a father who was put in prison because he was too poor to pay his debts. As the father was lead off to prison he shouted back to young Ebenezer to hold on to his gold, to make his fortune. Not wanting to risk the same fate of his father, separating a family and dying penniless, Scrooge worked, head down, through long hours and missing out on blessings that could have been his. As Scrooge's life progressed he remembered his father's words and held on to every cent he earned, using only what was needed to keep him alive. While all around him, he was filling his life bank with empty promises, wasted opportunities with family and lost love, Scrooge grew oblivious to Christmas Present.

The Season may make some people melancholy as it does me. We begin to think about Christmas Past, lament over what Christmas Future will bring and forget to rejoice in Christmas Present. Many of us have loved ones that are gone who once shared the Christmas holiday with us laughing, exchanging presents and reveling in the joy of our siblings, cousins, parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles. Now, it seems, we have to remind ourselves to leave the happy days of Christmas Past in the past. It may be a task to get the Christmas ornaments out, decorate for the holidays and plan Christmas parties. As I commence to do those things in preparation for my own family and friends to come to my holiday gatherings, I have to remember this is Christmas Present. Whether all three sons are here with us or only two, whether any of my own siblings join us or none, whether its the first Christmas with a loved one or the last; this is Christmas Present. All regrets of Christmas Past must be put away, fears of Christmas Future will vanish and only our happiness for Christmas Present will remain.

My life has been blessed over and over by good fortune; a loyal husband, three wonderful sons who share homes with Christian wives and my darling three grandchildren, all in good health. The fact that my basic needs are met each and every day, makes my life as rich as Scrooge. May God grant me the wisdom to not hoard my wealth, but share what I have with those who surround me now in Christmas Present. As Tiny Tim so rightly proclaimed, "And God bless us, everyone!"

...that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven
and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that
Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.
-- Philippians 2:10-11

Holidays

Holidays are here once again and reflections of times past inevitably come to mind. This Thanksgiving was spent with our middle child, Kyle and his wife, Amanda and their 10-day old baby daughter, Olivia. It was a special time because we rarely get the opportunity to have time alone to visit with just he and his wife. With no other family around, I was privileged to hold my new granddaughter as much as I wanted. She slept in my arms, wiggled around in my lap and looked up at my face. Sweet memories in the making! Perhaps one of these days when we are old and Olivia is visiting her grandparents, we’ll all remember with fondness, this first Thanksgiving just after her birth. Okay...we will remember and tell her all about how much we loved being together with she and her parents.

In a month we will celebrate the birth of another infant, Baby Jesus, whose mother also held her memories as dear. This year our three sons, their wives and our 3 grandchildren will be with us on Christmas Day. With a new infant in our family this year, the Christmas season will be extra special as we make memories together. My heart is full and I too treasure all the special times we all spend together.

‘Tis the season to be merry!

Luke 2:19-21

But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.

A Grandchild is Born

This is my newest granddaughter. Tiny, beautiful and all of 6 pounds and 1 ounce. She is perfect in every way! Of course, I'm bias! That's what a grandmother is suppose to be, forever bias.

Birth is a miracle I continue to be surprised and amazed at no matter how many babies are born. There she is, eyes open taking in all the new that she sees and hears. So alert and responsive, with all her bodily functions functioning as well as anybody else's, maybe better. She appears to recognize her mother's voice and she looks at her daddy like she already knows him.

Olivia Kathryn Martin made her debut at 9:51 p.m. on November 16, 2009. Her granddad, Big Daddy, (Kim) was especially happy that she was born on his birthday. Now that's a great birthday present!

My heart is full of joy for this wonderful blessing brought into our lives. Olivia is joining two families who will love her forever.

Seasons of Change and Life

It is autumn and leaves are falling, temps are cooling and a new granddaughter is waiting on her special cloud to make her earthly debut.

What a blessing to be alive to see my grandchildren born into this world. Joining our two grandchildren, Aidan and Regan, will be their new cousin, Olivia. I am anticipating what this fragile, dainty little girl will be like as she grows up with Kyle and Amanda. Taking after her parents, she is sure to be a happy child with a fun-loving spirit to enjoy life. As she attends Sunday school with all the many babies being born into their church family, I pray she will grow to know and love God, the Father and Jesus, his son.

Like Regan, she is likely to enjoy all things pink and girlie. Her other grandmother Kathy has used her decorating talents to help Amanda create a sweet garden of pastel flowers and butterfly motifs. Little Olivia will surely spend many joyful hours playing, laughing and slumbering in her very own bedroom. What a fortunate child!

After Monday, Olivia Kathryn Martin will start learning about her new world. It will be her first day of training for a lifetime of growth. Please pray with her parents, grandparents and family that she will grow up to be a lovely, Christian woman. If she is anything like her mother, I know she will.

May God go with Amanda and Kyle as they venture into this new world of parenthood. May God bless them with wisdom, patience and kindness as they guide and nurture this new life entrusted to them on earth. God go with them. Through Jesus, I pray this to Him. Amen.

Autumn Memories of Love

When I was a little girl in elementary school, my mom would pick me up from school for lunch the day after I'd been sick. I always thought that was standard procedure for recovering kids with fever and a cough, until I had a few more years on me. Then, it occurred to me that my sweet, nurturing mom was simply showing her love.

It was Fall or maybe Winter in my small Texas town and I had been sick. Nothing more than a croup, which was a bad cough and fever, but a temperature had kept me home from school for a few days. On this cool crisp day, my mom picked me up from my second grade class at Woodcrest Elementary School to go back home in the middle of the day for lunch. The house was quieter than normal since my brothers were not home. Because my dad was a shift worker at a refinery, he may or may not have been at home in the middle of the day. What I remember most was it was just Mama and me in our cozy little kitchen as the faint sound of refinery whistles blew for the noon hour.

On this particular day, returning to school, mom had dressed me to stay warm. Not only did I wear warm socks with my shoes, but also corduroy pants under my dress to keep my legs warm and a cotton undergarment covering my chest. I didn't wear knit stocking caps, but on windy cool days, Mother made me wear a scarf on my head tied under my chin. As I recall the scarves were a heavier material with a printed pattern of some sort. Mom was always sure to cover my ears from the wind. Even now, the image of her tying it around my head and patting my ears comes to mind.

The smell of my warm house filled my senses as we came inside out of the chilly air. After taking off my coat and scarf, mom directed me to the kitchen table. She prepared my favorite food for a sick day, scrambled egg sandwiches. Hmmm, yum! On this particular day, as a special treat, Mom had cut off the crusts and wrote my initials with food coloring and a toothpick on each of the 4 triangular sandwiches. I don't remember what else I might have had with that modest lunch. I just remember the special sandwiches. What a treat had been prepared by my mom just for me. What a blessed little girl!

Somewhere in my memory of similar days off from school, are cardboard puzzles, big thick coloring books and a box of 64 Crayolas. There was also a green hardback book filled with Sunday School stories called Bible Stories for Little Folk by Edna B. Rowe, Revision copyright, 1947. I am fortunate to still have that book today along with another one titled, Marian's Favorite Bible Stories by Marian M. Schoolland, copyright, 1958. Both are books I loved to look through as a child. Even though I didn't care much for reading, the books' pictures would captivate me and I'd pour over each one taking note of the artist's depiction of the story. In the green Bible Stories book, my favorite picture was one of the Good Samaritan or as the book titled it, The Good Neighbor. There was something about the way the good stranger in the picture held the wounded man's head up to give him water that caught my attention. Later, as an adult, I noticed the same individual Bible stories from that book were being handed out to children at church as their take-home lesson. I was glad they were still being used, although, I'm sure they have been finally retired by now.

Memories from my childhood have been replaying on this quiet Autumn day. I look forward to crisp brown leaves, smells of burning wood and the occasional refinery whistle at noon. On these days, I am transported back to braids in my blond hair, dresses with sashes tied in back, black Mary Jane shoes and of course, a scarf on my head.

My childhood was a simple, no frills existence full of the love my parents exhibited to me through scrambled egg sandwiches, Bible Story books and coming home in the middle of the day for lunch. By God's grace, my childhood memories are happy ones.

Some children, unfortunately, won't have happy memories. It brings sorrow to my heart to hear news of child abuse, children starving in third world countries or right here in this country. Many children grow up too fast, facing trials not meant for anyone and often times brought on by their parents. Another favorite picture in my Bible Stories book that brings warm feelings of love, shows Jesus with children sitting all around him and on his lap. The soft touch of the Lord, the loving Cherub-like faces on the children, has long been a comfort as I recall Jesus' words.

Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not;
for of such is the kingdom of God." (Mark 10:13-16)

We were those children at one time. Jesus calls to us to remember. Having been blessed with the love of good parents, it is not hard for me to understand Jesus' love. That is not so easy for some children today or even for some adults who grew up in abusive or hard life situations. Today my prayers will be for the children and adults who have not known the love of a caring parent. I'll ask Jesus to wrap his loving arms around them and touch them in a loving way not felt before. May God go with them all the way, for of such is the kingdom of God.

A Hymn of Prayer

Dear Lord and Father of mankind, forgive our foolish ways. Reclothe us in our rightful mind, In purer lives They service find, In deeper rev'rence praise.

In simple trust like theirs who heard, Beside the Syrian sea, The gracious calling of the Lord, Let us, like them, without a word, Rise up and follow thee.

O Sabbath rest by Galilee, O calm of hills above, Where Jesus knelt to share with thee The silence of eternity, Interpreted by love!

Drop they still dews of quietness, Till all our strivings cease; Take from our souls the strain and stress, and Let our ordered lives confess The beauty of they peace.

Amen.

Words: John G. Whittier (w. 1872)

New LIfe, God's Miracle

In the midst of a typical evening at home, watching TV, eating dinner, cleaning the kitchen, time on the computer with friends...there she was. Attached to an email sent by our son, Kyle, was the first real picture of our next granddaughter, Olivia Kathryn Martin. We can see her face, and her developing small frame. As my husband pointed out, we can't call her "Peanut" anymore. She is a real, living breathing person. It just boggles my brain every time I think about women carrying life inside of our bodies. As a mother, I am still awestruck by God's miracle of life. Only our God in heaven could create this amazing reproduction of life.

Here she is. Olivia! Beautiful, perfect, little creature of God's creation and she gets to be part of our family on earth. How privileged I feel. Why God thought Aidan and Regan and now Olivia should be in our family and part of our lives, I don't now. What I do know is I am so grateful for our granchildren. It has been such a joy to observe Aidan and Regan grow, learn and develop their own uniqueness. Soon we will be allowed to do the same with our unborn grandaughter. What an honor for us!

We are all looking forward with baited breath for November to meet Olivia, our third granddaughter. Her parents, Kyle and Amanda, are already wonderful parents to our yet to be born granddaughter.

My friend, reminded me of this special verse from God's word.

Before I formed you in the womb I knew you,

before you were born I set you apart. Jer.1:5

Are You Content?

Last Sunday morning at church our preacher talked about being content. Paul the apostle said, Philippians 4:11
I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances.
Then, the preacher proceeded to ask the question of my title, Are you content? In my mind, I replied, No. No, I am not.
Sometimes things just don't seem to go the way I thought they would. People aren't doing what I wish they would, circumstances are not easy to be content in and I have let down others as well as myself. Of course, there is no reason why I should be discontent, after all I am a Christian. If I have Christ in my life then everything else should be accepted for what it is.

Today, four days later, I continue to write this entry after an evening spent in true worship. Our church congregation is a very typical Church of Christ. It has been part of my discontentment over the past several years. I would term my husband and I as active members at church. My husband more than I because, as a man, he has opportunities offered to him that I, as a woman, do not. He leads the singing, he says prayers in worship, he reads scriptures in worship and teaches adult classes and serves communion. Don't take that statement the wrong way, I'm just explaining why he is able to be more active than I. Of course, I have the opportunity to be active through the Women's Ministry and teaching Sunday School, cooking meals, etc. To teach, it would have to be in children or ladies' class, cooking meals is not my thing and the woman's ministry seems outdated. *sigh*. As I stated in a previous blog, it is what it is.

Our congregation was lead by a former minister, in a Taize style worship service last night. Something our congregation possibly would not have embraced had we been more upfront and explained the worship style was borrowed from the Lutheran brethren. Instead it was billed as a time spent in peaceful worship, Welcome to the Quietness. And that it was. Peaceful and quiet. Worshipful, if you will. My part was with the small band of singers attempting to sing Taize without the aide of instruments. Acapella sounded okay, but would have been grander with a few instruments. Alas! as I think about this big step for many of us, it was a mere baby step for those Christians gathered at that place of worship. Still I'm very thankful that God opened hearts and allowed us the worship we sorely needed to be one with God.

This morning, I must admit, my soul is more at peace and content.

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid. John 14.27

How I Spent My Summer Vacation

As summer approached and my husband was preparing for various theater conferences, I expected to spend time working around my house all summer long. Ideally, I would have had a small part time job, but after the week of GT testing for the school district, nothing else worked out.

Kim and I had been saying for months that we were not going to be in the upcoming BLT summer musical, Beauty and the Beast. He was the production manager for the show as a member of the board of directors. I was going to do my part to help box office with ticket sales, and preparing the season ticket information for the new season coming up.

On the first day of auditions for Beauty and the Beast, I had just sent my grandchildren back home with their dad and was left to straighten up the house. Kim left to attend the first round of auditions, just to be there to represent the Board and to observe. Later that evening I decided that I wanted to watch auditions to see who was trying out for the main parts. As I came into the Lee College Performing Arts Center, I was greeted by friends and saw a lot of new faces as well. There had been a large number of people to audition for the show. As I sat down by a friend to watch auditions, I noticed a group of men with name tags stuck to their shirts, and sheet music in their hands, lined up on the stage preparing to sing. That was when I noticed my husband, who had said all year he was not going to do anything more than production manager for the show, standing on stage with the other male auditioners. What is more, when he finished his song, I had to admit that he was good, really good.

So, Kim was cast as Cogsworth, the uptight clock. Before auditions ended, I had tried out just to be part of the chorus and played a villager and a pepper shaker. Our son, Ryan, also auditioned and got the part of the Beast. Then, his wife, Amy, tried out and was cast as Madame De Le Grand Bouche, the wardrobe. We all got parts in the play and enjoyed performing on stage together. It turned out to be a huge theatrical event for our community and the college where we performed. We played to sell out audiences of around 650 for each of our 6 performances. After it ended, we were all glad we'd been part of such a big production as Beauty and the Beast.

Next summer our theater will produce the musical, My Fair Lady. Kim is already talking about trying out for the play. Don't know if I want to spend another summer at the theater, but even if I don't tryout, I can be certain that I'll get involved somehow in another BLT summer musical.

It Is, What It Is

A new catch phrase I've come to embrace: It is, what it is. We can sugar coat bad news or try our best to rationalize a situation we'd rather not be in, but in the end...it is what it is.

Plans change as situations change and sometimes things just don't work out the way we planned. I retired from 30 years of school teaching in 2007. My plans were to find other work, maybe even a new career. We really could not afford for me to retire, but I was not happy and was coming down with major burn out. However, after I retired, I did not work at all until January when I began administering tests for the school district. During the months I did not work, I enjoyed my freedom from lesson planning, grading papers, turning in gradesheets and disciplining children. It felt good. I volunteered more with the community theater, ran errands and did things for my husband I never was able to do before. I had freedom to go grocery store shopping in the middle of the day when the store was not crowded. There's a lot to be said for getting to do what you've always dreamed of doing while everyone else is at work. Yes, it felt good and I liked it.

Then, we began to miss my paycheck and I knew it was time for me to buckle down to finding a part time job. The testing I had done was temporary and even though it paid well, did not last long enough. I was asked to give tests again during the summer, but again, it was temporary. Next, I found out about a university supervisor job and began my inquiry. The job was paying pretty good and with my qualifications, I was hired for the new school year as an adjunct at the university.

The opportunity to work with college students and help them through the process of becoming a teacher is a very fulfilling experience. My field work is only one day a week. I accept the students' assignments online and grade their digital papers on other days from the convenience of my home. Then, at mid term the university made budget cuts and changed the university supervisor's responsibility and pay from two courses, to one course. The pay cut really did not help our situation. So, I signed on to tutor students, and give more tests to supplement my annuity paycheck from the retirement system. Problem now is that I must keep track of all the hours I work for a state education institution or I jeopardize my annuity if I work over 50% of full time employment. Believe me when I say that keeping up with those hours is another job all together.

We have done pretty good up until this month when no extra income coming in for the summer has really taken its toll. Fortunately, the schools are starting back up tomorrow. I've signed on to work with the university again and also applied to substitute teach in the public schools where I retired from 2 years ago. When I announced that I was retiring in 2007, many people asked if I would be substitute teaching to which I hastily replied, No way! Shouldn't have spoken so fast.

It was my wish to retire, so I really shouldn't complain. The daily drudgery of all the paperwork every single night of the week just got to me. Retirement had to happen and my husband supported me. Every now and then, I get anxious about the loss of income. I can't help it. When the money isn't there for me to something for new the house or bills aren't paid on time, the blues kick in. A little of the old depression covers me like water from a shower washing over my nervous system. I can't stop the feeling and begin to feel sorry for myself and for Kim who married a person like me. Don't get me wrong it's not like I want to go out and spend lots of money on a 2010 black Jaguar. As awesome as that would be, I really just wish the bills would be paid on time and I could buy a new dress every now and then. No, I won't complain because I have a roof over my head, I get fed more than a person needs, my husband and I both have our own cars to drive and we aren't sick. (Thank the Lord!) We have a lot to be thankful for. Even the cats are happy as they have all the same luxuries that we have except the car. They wouldn't like riding in it anyway. So, what can I say? It is, what it is. I must rejoice and be happy in my current circumstances. If the Lord has other plans for me, he will make it known to me. I just pray I'm paying attention and don't miss His message.
I must rely on my Lord and learn from Paul in Philippians 4:11.

Lead Us Not Into Temptation

It is superficial and should not make a difference, but somehow it does. The fact that Dian Keaton looks amazing at 63 years old is only part of my reality check for the day. Yesterday I watched a movie starring Ryan Reynolds, a baby-faced young actor a mere 33 years of age; acting opposite a beautiful, slender Sandra Bullock an actress 12 years her leading man’s senior. As I watched her looking 33 years old at 45, I was struck with my age, my weight, my aching muscles, joints and the impulse to rush to the hairstylist.

L’ Oreal Paris Re-cushioning (What kind of term is that?) Serum claims to be specially designed to reduce the signs of aging in menopausal and postmenopausal skin. While skin with more cushion strikes me as desirable, I know such claims come with a price tag much like most other “fountain of youth” formula creams, lotions and pills. Pretty 40-something models, like Sarah Jessica Parker, advertising such products do not convince me the product works; they only produce a yearning in me to be their age again.

Carb cravings, sweets and calorie-laden beverages seem to have my name written on their containers. Old ankles struggling to support my overweight frame moan under the strain of their task. By ignoring good health and exercise my energy level depletes with the slightest exertion of outdoor activity. It can be very depressing.

Improved physical health has been linked to improved mental health in both young people and adults. The article linked here indicates that physical activity can help combat those depressed feelings in many of us. We all have triggers for sad feelings and according to experts those can be fought off by exercise. Too bad depression can’t be fought off by a Red Velvet cupcake with vanilla frosting. Take my word for it, as comforting as it may sound, the sweet does not rid one of depression.

Head knowledge is one thing and putting it into action is clearly another. Humans can be self-destructive even when we know what is best for us. Personally, smoking cigarettes has never been a temptation for me. Every pack of cigarettes is clearly labeled with the surgeon general’s warning that tobacco can cause cancer, yet I see people young and old continuing to smoke. So as not to appear too judgmental of some of my best friends who are smokers, my vice is alcohol. Wines and cocktails cool and satisfy, but when not in moderation can/will/do cause havoc on my body and mind. As I said, we humans are self-destructive.

Combating our temptations with knowledge should be an easy fix for these problems. While smoking, drinking, and other outward abuses continue to exist, there are still others not so visible. Does this mean we are all addicted to our temptations? Does it mean we are weak individuals with no spine to correct our lives? Jesus loves me, this I know, and maybe it is the Holy Spirit within urging me to change my way of living. Temptations can become a whisper in the wind and avoidance is possible if we will listen, act and get control. I Co. 10:13

Mercy triumphs over judgement!

James 2:13

Waking Up With Facebook

When I was a little girl, I often had sleepover guests at my house. I could hardly wait for them to wake up in the morning so we could laugh and talk about our day. Now as an adult in the computer age, I log on to my email, then to Facebook to see what is going on in my friends' world. It has become part of my morning routine to see who is up and chatting each morning. Nothing has changed really, except geography. For now, instead of my friends being at my house for a sleepover, they are spread out all over the globe and we talk via the internet. That is pretty cool!

There is a small group of my close girlfriends spread out across the U. S. who lived with me in a dorm at Abilene Christian College. We began our email conversations long before Facebook was introduced to the internet world. Then, making the transition to the social community of Facebook was easy. I've found many more friends from college that I would not have ever heard from again if not for Facebook. One small group of people who be-friended me are some former students. These students were only in second grade when I taught them. Many of them are married with families and it is just so neat to see what they are doing as adults. Different from friends in college or former students, are friends I have made through our work with the Baytown Little Theater. Most of them are still here in Baytown, but some who have moved away are on my list of friends. It was through Facebook that I learned a theater family we mini- reunion. That should be a lot of fun. It is wonderful to catch up with friends we've not seen in a long while. Other groups of friends I have on Facebook include church friends, family, and former co-workers in the school system. Recently, I have started a search to find high school friends who I am anxious to find. All have touched my life in some way either big or small and now we are renewing friendships on Facebook. That is a large number of friends from all walks of life.

For me, opening my computer to see what is going on with my friends is a convenient way to stay in touch. When I am finished and need to get to work, I simply close my computer. I can pick it up or close it down any time during the day. What's more, I haven't had to stay on the telephone just to see how they are doing. I couldn't come close to connecting with as many people as I do through Facebook. For sure, phone conversations are nice to hear a real voice sometimes. For example, my husband is away this week and even though I've been able to keep up with his daily activities through Facebook nothing beat the times we talked on the telephone to really feel closer to him across the hundreds of miles between us. Yes, phones still have a very prominent place in our society for a personal conversation, but for brief updates, you can't beat Facebook. Well, that is unless you have Twitter, which I do not presently have an account. It's just a matter of time before I do and perhaps a new Blackberry. *wink*

Even though I rarely have sleepover friends anymore, it is nice to wake up and visit online. If you haven't joined Facebook yet, you should. Don't be afraid to browse the site like you would a department store. Type people's names in the search window and you might be surprised to find many of your friends. Friends who have just been waiting for you to wake up and give them an update. So, go ahead, get started and stay in touch with many more friends who have touched your life than you thought possible. What is really nice is you'll love being able to say Good Morning to 100 or so close friends without putting clean sheets on the bed.

What's on your mind?

Summer:Working as Water:Oil

As my mom used to say, "It's hotter than blue blazes out there." I just bet we could have actually fried an egg on the sidewalk today! Whew! I can't believe Kim worked in the yard on such a hot day. My cats are not even begging to go outside either. Well, okay, Baby thinks she wants outside, but as soon as she got out there, she'd know it wasn't the best decision. Yes, my cats make decisions, don't yours?

Fortunately, I have not had to be out in the heat today. I went to a school and gave tests for the school district. Four first grade children before lunch and only two fifth grade students after lunch. Not a bad gig really. I get paid to give tests to some pretty sweet kids. Those fifth graders worked hard today and finished one test with 9 subtests. It made me tired and all I did was operate the stopwatch and explain the tests. The first graders worked hard too. Their only disappointment was that the test started at 8:00 again tomorrow morning. I'm with them, 8 o'clock is way too early to wake up during summer vacation.

Finding summer work has really been a weighty task for me. When you think about it, I've never had what is considered a real 8:00-3:00, Monday through Friday summer job. I had a few part time jobs, but never full-time and certainly not all summer long. Besides those piddly jobs were back before I started teaching school. Those hardly count! Since I was a career student and teacher, I have enjoyed summer vacations off since I started first grade. That's a long standing habit and not easily changed. So, surely you can see why my will to muster up the energy to work during these dog days of summer is just not there. It's hot! I should be swimming in a pool, going on picnics or to places like Schlitterbahn or a nice beach house. If flip-flops can't be the official footwear for the job, I don't want it. Working in the summer? I don' think so.

Unfortunately, the bad news is that I really need to work. I don't want to, but finances being what they are, its something that has to be done. The testing I'm doing now will only last until Wednesday or Thursday if I stretch it out. After that, its back to beans and rice. Just joking! However, its on the verge of such low-budget meals. The 50-dollar question is, "What?" What can I do to earn money where I don't work long hours, nights, weekends or get bored? "Picky", you say? You are probably right, but I'm no spring chicken anymore and I need my R & R.

Well, I'll keep thinking on it and in the meantime, if you come up with an idea for me a job, please drop me a line on Facebook or leave a comment here. Oh, and it needs to be within the area where I live. I am not willing to relocate, unless its to Paradise where the living is easy and my flip-flops are allowed.

Happy Martin Father's Day! 2009

This post is simply a pictorial tribute to the Martin Dads past and present.

Down front is Jason Kelly Martin (10 months), with great-grandfather, Harold Kelly Martin, Sr., his son and Jason's grandfather, Harold Kelly Martin, Jr. with his son and Jason's dad, Harold Kelly Martin, III (Kim). (1977)








Kim with sons Jason (5 years), Kyle (3) and Ryan (9 months) . (1982).












Kelly and his son, Kim. (2007) Kelly and son, Lane Martin. (2009)



Kim with his sons, Ryan, Kyle and Jason with his son, Kim's grandson, Aidan Kelly Martin (4 years old). (2006)











Our son, Jason, with his daughter, Regan (4 years old) and with son, Aidan. (2008-09)





Steve Russell may not be a Martin, but he married Kim's sister, Ferryn Martin. Steve
pictured with children, Christian and Hannah.

Slow...almost...Summer Days

This is one of those days when I'd like to be sitting under a tall oak tree sipping a mint julep. Being at home alone during the day has its advantages, but sometimes when the sun is shining, the cats are sleeping, there are no pressing needs and lazy trumpet sounds play on the CD player; I'm inclined to do nothing at all.

The outdoor patio chairs seem to be beckoning me to sit, linger, sip a cool crisp Chardonnay and exert no energy whatsoever. As much as I would have enjoyed a relaxing afternoon of simply staring into the green surroundings of my backyard, I resisted the temptation. Besides, at the time my patio desperately needs a chaise lounge, our new patio table to be assembled, and the big umbrella set up in order to truly be sublime. Perhaps a gentle breezy fan would also aide the stirring of the air across my face and shoulders on this warm day. Ah, yes, that would be truly nice.

It takes a while for me to get into the rhythm of a slow day. In the beginning, I'm restless and even...dare I say...bored? As I do not have a set agenda, the day leaves numerous options to keep me busy. Now that summer is upon me, I realize that much is still to be completed around my house. That so called office space is in real need of a make-over in order to be a more productive room. This lingering day with nothing better to do is tasking to say the least. HGTV would be the way to go if I could just persuade David Bromstad that I need his expertise in my office.

Although, a mire fraction of effort went into a plan for today, I did manage to move small piles of disarray in our office. An adequately sized room with a Mission style daybed heaped high with clutter, a small bookcase housing a complete set of World Book Encyclopedias, a two-drawer wooden file cabinet filled with paper-shredding material, a Mission style computer desk sans computer, a wheeled black desk chair and oddities of one sort or the other; the space resembles a college dorm room more than an office. Since so much stuff comes into this house on a daily basis with no assigned storage, it tends to be shuffled into the office. Our office has slowly become, against my wishes, a junk room. Although, much of said, "junk" are important documents, theater catalogs, tote bags and books, it is unwanted stuff just the same. If ever a file cabinet needed weeding out, ours does. Papers with dates back to 1987 were found. Blank letterhead from companies for which we are no longer employed will soon become drawing paper for my grandchildren. Play scripts, books, high school and college annuals, a whole set of Bible commentaries are filling the cubby holes and shelf areas in the room's closet along with plastic crates filled with photographs and albums. Old theater props, a huge exercise ball accepted from a friend who no doubt didn't used it either, and my guitar that I occasionally play, all share the same closet space as our eclectic range of books. The closet is also in dire need of weeding.

As mentioned before, this is a slow day. Many times today I stopped to consider where else I might drive to occupy my time otherwise; an antique store, a shoe store or perhaps the liquor store for ingredients to mix a nice mint julep cocktail. Instead, here I sit, checking my email and writing on my blog. The music has changed to soothing tones of a deep contemporary cello.

Daydreaming aside, it is I who will have to force myself back into the little room to organize, throw away and regroup. Maybe by the time June is over, I'll have completed the project or Carter Oosterhouse will agree to lean a hand. Now I really must get back to reality.

From Beginning to End

When I began this blog, my intentions were to post at least once a week. Lately, I've been doing good to post once a month. I noticed on the last Site Meter report that the number of views a week was way low. When I logged onto the site, I had 4 drafts started and none of them near completion. So, I managed to delete three and complete one; here is a second. Even though the writing bug is biting, and even though I have several writing ideas swirling around in my head, and even though I have more time to write; I just can't seem to gain the momentum to actually execute the activity. My plan is to return to once a week postings. That said, today I decided to make a fervent attempt to post another entry to my humble little blog. I hope you enjoy it and will tell others to follow along with ML's Musings.
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Spring is primarily known for new beginnings. Buds burst into colorful flowers, nude little chicks are hatching and caterpillars emerge as lovely butterflies pumping new wings for the first time. Many people are spring cleaning as they discard, organize, give or sell those once-needed items no longer of use. Spring is a time of new beginnings and also, in some cases, a time of endings.

Endings were celebrated recently at our church. All of the high school seniors who are graduating this May were honored. The church gathered in our fellowship room after services to share in the celebration. Just the eight of them and the 100 or so of their friends, family, and well-wishers brought food to share. In addition to good food, there were gifts, pictures, a DVD showing all the grads at various cute-ness over their young lifetime and a blessing offered for their futures. Happy endings are a also a sign of new beginnings.

Summer, while a time to play, can also be a time for continued work. The main school year morphs into summer school. For some it will be a time to redo what was missed during the long term with hope for improved outcomes. For others it is a time to get ahead, taking classes to further their progress to an end. Still, summer for many individuals is a time to rest, relax and regroup before the onset of Fall. Summer camps planned to not only occupy young minds and bodies, also provide activity for the adult sponsors to relive their youth. Families take vacations ranging from expensive cruise excursions to a back-to-basics tent in the woods. The main objective for family vacations is a time to bond, to appreciate those people closest to our hearts and enjoy the uniqueness of each family member.

Seasons have cycled around with reoccurring events in much the same manner for decades. Goals are set, tracks are laid, and progress is charted for whatever we humans have planned. If we think about our future, it is as an endless circular rail from beginning to end, never to be broken until the ending date is stamped on our headstone. While we ride this sphere around and around, the primary differences come in our growth as individuals. Numerous physical and mental changes have taken place within us. Along the way we have acquired knowledge, spouses, learned skills and talents, children, homes, and spiritual awareness. From the time we are babes until our final end on earth, we continue to rotate in and out of seasons, experiencing life's starts and stops. Keep in mind that with each end, something new will begin. May we all reflect, appreciate and savor our time on earth until we stop at our final resting place and forever live the ultimate new beginning.

Ps 104:19 The moon marks off the seasons,p and the sunq knows when to go down.
May God bless your seasons.

Peace, Be Still

I can just imagine sitting in a sailboat on a quiet body of water, the evening air is warm, and I feel a gentle breeze brush against my face. I like that tiny light you see hanging off the mast in the picture. The fishermen must be working late casting nets after the sun has gone down and the lantern provides added light. Earth's moon illuminates the dark waters. It's a peaceful time of the evening when most other fishermen have retired to their homes for the evening. Only the sound of waves softly lapping up on the sides of the boat can be heard. Calm waters gently rock the boat and the fisherman watch the waters without speaking a word. Peace, be still.

Jesus, asleep on a quiet boat as a storm is forming. His shipmates are growing nervous as dark clouds roll overhead and dangerous waves begin to rock their boat violently. No longer the tranquil scene described in the above paragraph. Deafening thunder claps roll across the sky as torrents of rain saturate the tiny boat. Jesus, possibly below deck, remains unaffected and sleeps through the furious storm. The disciples are alarmed, thinking they are going to die and wake Jesus, shouting their pleas to be saved.

Jesus calmly surveys the storm and speaks, You of little faith, why are you so afraid?
Jesus isn't concerned about their safety because He knows who is in control. He is. Like a father to a rowdy child, he rebukes the storm. Quiet! Be still! And in an instant, the unruly winds and rains obey the Master's voice. Peace has returned to the lake waters.

Jesus told the stormy winds and rains to stop. It should comfort and calm our anxious feelings to know what our savior can do. He can rebuke the storms in our lives. He can still our fears of inadequacy. He hears our cries of desperation and with outstretched hands he replies, Quiet! Be Still. Our faith is strengthen and our fears erased when we call out to Jesus.

Peace, be still.


Matthew 8:23-27

Louise, Mama, Big Mama

Louise Bernice Bond Ritchey, lovingly called "Big Mama" by our sons, passed away on May 4, 1993. The photo here was taken March 2, 1984 on her birthday.

May 4th, around 3:00 a.m., I was in Port Neches standing at my mother's bedside with my sister-in-law's mom who was helping tend to Mother. Barbara wrapped her arms around me as we both watched Mama take one last breath and leave. In the middle of the night, we stood there watching and breathing our own sighs of relief that Mom's struggle with cancer had ended.

I miss my mom and the impulsive last minute decisions I'd make to drive the hour trip to Pt. Neches just for a visit. The impulse to go, still comes without resolution. In 1993, on spring, sun-laden days in late April/early May, most of my drives were alone to be with Mom who lay dying of cancer. My oldest brother, Johnny, had already been there helping the best way he could. My other brother would join us at our childhood home the day before Mama passed away. My daddy lay awake in bed, confused as to why we were all there; had symptoms of Alzheimer's disease. It was such a blessing to have my big strong brothers there to share the heavy grief as we made important, life-changing decisions. I was especially blessed to have Barbara there to hold me as we stayed those last moments with Mama's body. On that day and in years to come, my husband and his family have allowed me the separation from the surreal circumstance. I don't believe I could have made it through the ordeal without my beloved Kim for the mental support he provided.

Even though Mama has been gone for 16 years, it doesn't seem that long ago since we were together laughing in her kitchen. Mom was a great cook and loved to feed her family on holidays or anytime any of us were at their house. I mainly provided conversation, set the table or made a salad, while watching her cook. I miss her as much as I miss all the family gatherings we used to have with my brothers' families, my grandmother and all my aunts, uncles and cousins. All of that seemed to stop when Mama died.

Mom and Dad are together in heaven now with their sibblings and parents. Someday we will all be together again for a grand reunion.

I love and miss you every day, Mom.

Alone Again, Naturally!

Today is rainy, windy and wet outside. Although, it is not hailing like it was last night, I won't venture out today if I can help it. With Kim gone to work on sets, I'm once again Home Alone. Unlike Macaulay Culkin, I'm not too worried about bothersome crooks trying to break into my house. My only pest is this gray tabby cat draped across my lap while I try to use my laptop.

With many closets in my house that clearly need an overhaul, the abundant amount of paperwork lying around in the office (loose translation of office), not to mention a small video project I am working on, plus the daily housework of cleaning floors, washing clothes and such, one would think that I could keep myself busy 24/7. I've several books that were bought, loaned, and gifted to me waiting for my attention. Obviously, there is no shortage of work and entertainment around here to occupy my time well into the night.

So, what will it be that captures my attention, that intrigues me enough to indulge my senses for long periods of time? I'm thinking my video project would be a nice little task that I could dive into with joy and gain a sense of fulfilled completion by the end of the day. Working on a creative project won't tax my brain too much or frustrate me to tears. Perhaps I'd even get some of the laundry washed or a floor vaccumed inbetween creative thoughts. I'm liking this idea very much.

As soon as I finish a second cup of coffee and check out what my friends on HGTV are doing this morning, I'll get started. Yep, that's what I'll do. Hope you all have a very productive day.

Ooooo, one of my Facebook friends has commented on a thread I was part of...I have to check it out. Bye!

Blog Topics and Elephants

When I sit down to post on this blog, sometimes I have a topic, although other times like now, I do not. Yesterday, I wrote an article, but decided that it was too long for a blog and I'd rambled too much. So, I hit delete and gave it up for the day. Many times I think of a subject I'd like to address, but realize that if I post it, the topic may stir up problems for me with some of my readers. Not that I have that many readers, but I have just enough that if my context is any way controversial, it could get back to others who would not understand. I'd be told to "be careful what you put in print". Does that qualify as censorship? I suppose it might, but just on my part, after all, I am my own editor. However, if I were a gutsy writer, a bold reporter, I would not censor myself because it is my writing, my point of view and anyone that has a problem with it should just get over it. Yeah!! or maybe not. Sorry about that, I didn't mean to get carried away.

Although there is a side of me that wants to tell people to take a hike or lay off, when faced with the opportunity, I shy away. Well, that is, most of the time. I have told a person face to face that I didn't like the way he was talking to me. Although, that was not writing and he was the protagonist, not me. Hmmm... well lets just say that I've written from the protagonist point of view and heard about it from others who were "concerned" about me. Once I wrote what I thought to be an analogy...or was it a metaphor? (I get those mixed up.) It was written because of a situation that had upset me at our church. I really thought I'd camouflaged it pretty well. Besides, who reads this blog? No one. I found out differently when a friend called to meet her at Starbucks. Seems some church person had read my blog and was afraid that we were leaving the church. I was surprised and amazed that someone read the post much less would care enough about what I'd written. Moreover, sending a friend to talk to me about what I had written was a real eye-opener. People really do read this blog!

Anyway, this is one of those post about nothing in particular because if I write about topics on my mind, it may not set well with some friends who apparently do read this blog and would get their feathers ruffled. I truly don't want to offend anyone. That is the truth, too. I also don't want any of them to think ill of me either. However, it would sure be freeing to be able to say what is really on my mind. To be able to discuss that big gray elephant standing in the middle of the church aisle. You see it, don't you? Well, maybe you aren't at my church, but trust me, there's one there. He stands there every time we meet and no one ever seems to notice him, especially, the elephant keepers who walk around him every time they were in the aisle. Although, there has been a whisper or two that I'm sure was someone wondering about the elephant, no one has had the presence to announce, "there is an elephant in the aisle and this house is no place for such a thing." Maybe one day some newcomer who doesn't know any better, will ask about that big gray elephant standing in the middle of the aisle and "why isn't someone doing something to get him out". When that day comes, a meeting will be called, there will be a discussion, maybe even an disagreement (that's the part I don't like), but eventually, hopefully, the elephant will be gone. When it's out, we'll clean up the aisle so we can worship free of distractions, free of barriers, free of the questions surrounding the elephant, and free of the dominating smell of the beast's presence that everyone seemed to ignore.

Sorry, this wasn't much of a post today. I just couldn't think of a topic. Maybe next time I write, I'll have more of an idea about what to write.

Thanks for reading, whoever you are.

She's Having a Birthday

This happy little ballerina is my darling granddaughter, Regan. She will soon be 4 years old.

She is happy 99.5% of the time from my perspective. I love and enjoy basking in the happiness Regan showers all around. Playing with her is such a joy for me. When she comes to my house she likes to sit on the floor of my bedroom watching her videos propped up on a big pillow. At other times we make shapes with play dough and cookie cutters at the kitchen table. We lie in bed and read storybooks. Just listening to her talk and laugh makes me feel good all over.

Regan has a lot of love for her family and often shows that affection with kisses and hugs. I love to see her sharing her kisses on her mommy and daddy. She will even hug on her big brother Aidan or lavish her love on their beagle, Daisy. It has also been my good fortune indeed to have been the recipient of Regan hugs and kisses.

Regan is what I call a girly-girl. Last year's 3-year-old birthday party was a Princess Barbie Party. Regan's mommy, my talented daughter in law, baked a beautiful Barbie cake and constructed a decorated skirt around the body of a real Barbie doll standing in the center of the cake. Regan loved it. This year we are invited to a Butterfly Party and I'm sure there will be a cake worthy of the butterfly theme.

Having raised 3 sons, I find that shopping for Regan's girl-themed birthday parties to be a lot of fun. I really enjoy looking at girl toys, clothes and reading books I think she will like. Trouble is I find it hard to decide on what not to get because I'd love to get it all. I believe Regan will approve of the present I finally settled on. Cool sunglasses, butterfly ponytail holders, a butterfly printed tee and a Girls Rock tee, a skort (that's part skirt, part shorts) that matches both tees and a ballerina Barbie, with brunette hair of course, and an extra Barbie outfit all between patterned tissue paper in a bright pink gift bag. I also read the cutest Easter book in Target titled "Tough Chicks". It's about three yellow baby chicks on a farm who are always getting into mischief. Really cute story and of course, I had to buy it so I can share it with her. Besides the story seems to fit our "tough birthday-chick". Now, if you should happen to see my Regan, please keep my present a secret. Luckily, she doesn't follow her Mama Lou's blog...yet.

Saturday will be here one more day. We will travel the short distance to her house. Meeting her friends, watching her run and giggle with other little 4 year olds as they play party games will be the most fun I'll experience all day. Can't wait!

"Happy Birthday, dear Regan. Happy Birthday, to You!"

Love,
Mama Lou

Getting My Ducks in a Row

Sometimes getting all my ducks to get into a row is like raking leaves on a windy day. They just don't stay put.

Gray. Rain. Quiet.

Its raining today. The temperature dropped down to the low 40's in the middle of March. Its wet and cold outside. I don't feel like going anywhere or doing anything except what I'm doing right now. Hanging around my house, I can see so many chores that need to be tended to, but no energy to carry through. The sound of the rain dripping on metal outside, the chill of the air around the glass door and the sight of my sleeping cats, all seem to suck the spirit to work right out of me.

On days like today its good to be inside out of the elements, but being alone makes the day drag. My husband is teaching school today and afterward will stay for a rehearsal with the ninth grade theater arts students. He'll be there until it starts to turn dark. I wish he'd just come on home and talk to me. Or perhaps we could play a game and have some fun. I'd watch a movie with him except our taste for movies are very different. He likes documentaries about crimes committed and federal agents working to solve the mysteries surrounding the act. Me? I enjoy a story about happiness. People who are full of life and laughing with friends and out having a good time. The kind of movies I like are an escape from reality. Why anyone would ever want to sit watching films about hate crimes, murders, and illicit acts of cruelty against people they love, are beyond my mind of reason. Just watching previews of films involving terror, fear, and monstrous mangling of human bodies is not at all what I'd call entertainment. I've not the foggiest idea why anyone would want to subject their mind to such things.

If not for the sound of the heater in the attic blowing warmth into my house, there would be no sound at all. Quiet. Very quiet. When I was a teenager, my mother would offer tidbits of advice out of the blue for when I would have a home and family of my own. "When you're at home by yourself, keep the TV or radio on for company. Just having the sound on helps make the day go faster." Or, "you have to be sure to clean good around a toilet when there's men in the house". Ha. I always thought that one was funny, although now that I've had three sons and a husband, I often remember her words as I clean around a toilet.

Quiet, gray days generate a lot of thoughts in my head. Memories of bygone days growing up in my parent's home, playing with my dolls, coloring, playing records (FYI, round plastic disc pre-CD that held music) or just brushing my hair as I stared at my reflection on days like today float around my mind. Then, my thoughts sift to those days not so long ago when my own children were at home on days like today.

When my kids were little they'd come up with all sorts of games on rainy days. Often I'd open the door to their bedroom and a tent made of blankets and ropes had been erected. Corners tied off to doorknobs and curtain rods, with cozy areas just the right size for pint-sized little boys to sit under, laugh and play. Or sometimes I'd let them play in the garage. I'd open the double-wide garage door and they'd draw on a chalkboard, blow bubbles or just listen to the echoing sounds of their voices bouncing off the garage walls.

The familiar wail of a refinery whistle off in the distance, is reminiscent of the refineries where I grew up and where my daddy worked. Hearing those plant whistles signaling the workers to change shifts, make me think about my daddy. I can see him wearing his hard hat and carrying that black metal lunch pail as he came around the corner of the garage up the sidewalk to our back door. The sound is so clear in the solitude of my home and I am immediately transported back to the small wood-framed house in Southeast Texas.

In a while I will turn the television on for company. What's left of the gray day will soon end and my husband will come home. We'll eat our dinner and talk about our day. It was quiet today. Very quiet.

From Journal to Blog

Previous to writing a blog, I kept a personal journal. In the past, a few of my writings have found their way into my blog. Though it would not be in my best interest to "publish" much of my journal. When I started my journal writing it was at a time in my life when I was discontented, feeling alone and wanted something, but I didn't know what. In short, I was depressed.

One night I awoke unable to sleep and moved to the living room couch so I wouldn't wake up my husband. Picking up a book that a counselor had loaned me, I continued reading about symptoms I was experiencing. Realizations from this book made me very unsettled. So much so, that I was in tears by the end of the book. I opened my Bible and began to read a random New Testament scripture. The verses I read were so much what I needed that I knew without a doubt, it was a message straight from God to me. In that early morning hour, in an almost blank journal, I recorded the scripture and how it applied to me. I would return to that night's journal entry many times over the next year.

One winter when our sons were nearing adulthood, my husband and I traveled with our church group to ski in Colorado. Only I was not going to ski, but rather use the time to be alone. While everyone else was skiing, I planned to meditate and ponder my existence; or at least ponder my faith and whether God still loved me. I had just started reading the first of many Max Lucado books I would eventually digest, "No Wonder They Call Him Savior". That was such an inspirational reading experience for me. The feeling that my spiritual life was taking on changes was apparent, like realizing for the first time the true impact of Jesus' sacrifice, and that He still loved me.

The real journal writing began on that ski trip during my time of recluse. First of all our surroundings were perfect for a time of solitude. Set in front of snow-caped mountains among tall evergreens, the retreat was away from any busy-ness and city noise. A chilly gurgling river ran down the center of the resort separating the dining hall from the living quarters. Despite the cold temperatures, no snow had fallen upon our arrival. Disappointed at first, by the time we went to bed that night, we were hearing that snow was on the way.

The first night we slept out in the common room of the boys' dorm. The following morning
our group of skiers decided to head to the ski slopes in spite of the absence of white stuff on the grounds. Content to be alone, I was settling into the now quiet dorm to read when I got word that a cabin with a private room had become available. All by myself, I hastened to move our bags to the cabin.

The cabin was more than I had expected. There was a large picture window, a warm living room outfitted like a small first apartment, and a cozy bedroom. This was the perfect place to read and since Kim had brought his laptop, it was also the perfect place to write a description of this beautiful place. Out of clear radio range, most stations were a flurry of static. Tuning the dial, I hit on the only coherent channel, which was of all things, a contemporary Christian music station. I settled myself in front of the picture window at a table where I could type my journal entry on the computer. While Christian music played on the radio, cold temperatures lingered outside. Warm and cozy inside, I was poised to write my thoughts. After typing for a while, I stretched my arms up and looking out the window saw feathery white snowflakes drifting to the ground. At first they were light and few in number. The longer it continued to snow, the bigger and more active the flakes descended to the ground, sticking one upon the other until the whole ground was a blanket of white. It was beautiful! Having lived the majority of my life in Southeast Texas, this cold precipitation was captivating to watch. My original piece of writing now took on a different conversation as I felt sure that God had sent the private cabin, the Christian radio station and this beautiful snowfall just for me.

Returning home from the ski trip, I felt rejuvenated and intent on continuing my Bible reading, study, and journal writing. At home I often wrote in my journal filed within my own computer. Over the next decade, although not daily, I wrote much about happenings in my life, both sad and joyous.

Somewhere along the way amid transition from a desktop computer to a laptop and discovering the "Blogworld", I stopped recording my thoughts in a private journal. Using a computer to write has freed me from pen and paper allowing my thoughts to flow freely and more natural. That liberates me to think about my words and not my writing. Although, my blog entries are not exactly what I'd write in a private journal, it has allowed me to continue to record stories, thoughts and events in my life. The drawback with writing on a blog instead of my own personal journal is that I learned the hard way, that I must be very careful what I put out on the Internet. It surprises me when someone tells me that they read my blog. One time, in an angry state of mind, I authored a metaphoric story that I thought vague enough that no one would understand except perhaps my close friends. Suffice it to say, it got unwanted attention.

Credit perhaps should be given to my growing computer skills for this transition from a penned personal journal to blogging on the Internet. Although, I must admit that there is a certain appeal to clean crisp paper bound in leather and a brand new ink pen. The idea tempts me to ponder the thought of actual writing again...for my personal memoirs of course. An intriguing thought for sure and one I will consider each time I see a blank journal waiting for my words.