Like everyone else who was in the Paducah area (and later around the world), I remember very vividly where I was the moment I heard the Breaking News “Students at Heath High School were gathered for a Prayer Group when another student pointed a gun at them and started shooting. We will continue to bring you more news as we know it.” Those are probably not the exact words, but very close to what I remember from the car radio that morning as I was driving with my 2-month-old granddaughter to visit my mother for the day.
The rest of the day I kept checking the news. By the end of the day, the news was that a 14-year-old boy had killed three precious girls, paralyzed one girl for the rest of her life, and four others had to struggle with healing from gunshot wounds. So many lives were changed that day. Hopes and dreams were demolished or drastically revised. The families have moved on but have been changed forever.
For me, each time I looked at my precious granddaughter that day I would think “Thank God you don’t understand what is happening, and I pray that you never have to experience something like this.” Sadly, similar tragedies, and even some on a larger scale, have continued to happen across our nation and world over the last 20 years.
As I sat watching the Memorial Service being televised on the WPSD this morning, I have flashed back in my mind to that day and the days, weeks, and months following. The news media flooded the little community of Heath in Western McCracken County, KY. Our area was in the headlines for days. President Bill Clinton spoke of it nationally. The joint funeral service was televised. The thing that I always remember was that the three girls were in identical white caskets and friends were invited to sign them. Strange, but touching at the same time.
This was the first school shooting I remember being talked about on national media. Sadly, they have continued and gotten worse. When will these shootings - especially the ones at our schools - stop? We don’t know. Only God does. They are a warning to us that something has gone dreadfully wrong in our society. Evil (called “mental illness” by some) is rampant. It makes it all the more important that we teach our children, and adults as well, about Jesus’s death for our salvation and show them God’s Love.
I hope and pray we never again hear or read a news cast like the one I heard that fateful day - December 1, 1997.
Friday, December 01, 2017
Wednesday, August 16, 2017
They Came But I Didn't Speak Up
My daughter and I am opposites in many ways. The one difference I want to point out today is politics. Susanna French is passionate and very vocal - hence her recent election as President of the National Federation of Democratic Women. I’m not into the political scene. I’ve always felt my opinions are mine and others are entitled to theirs. However, as this year has progressed, with every day bringing more and more drama, chaos, criticism, finger pointing, and hateful rhetoric, I am asking myself, “How do I feel about this? What kind of stand should I make? Why do I not speak out? What will happen to my friendships if they don’t agree with me?” And on and on my questions go.
The Charlottesville, VA incident this past weekend, and the atmosphere that has followed that is almost minute by minute growing more divisive, contentious, and quarrelsome, is weighing on my mind. Personally, I think it is time to take a stand. I woke up this morning thinking about FIRST THEY CAME, by Pastor Martin Niemöller, written just after the Holocaust. It is a poem made powerful by its pronouns: They-I-I, They-I-I, They-I-I, They-no one-me.
This 20th-century poem reads as almost tailor-made for the remix culture of the 21st century. It features an almost fill-in-the-blank format. Here is the version quoted by the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum:
First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Socialist.
Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Trade Unionist.
Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me. ___________________________________________________________________________________
There is an updated version written by Gideon Lichfield rewritten for Donald Trump’s America. Be aware, it is controversial and may offend your political ideals.
What would Martin Niemöller write today?
The famous poem by an anti-Nazi pastor, rewritten for Donald Trump’s America
By Gideon Lichfield
First Trump came for the women
And I did not speak out
Because I was not a woman.
Then Trump came for the people with disabilities
And I did not speak out
Because I did not have a disability.
Then Trump came for the African Americans
And I did not speak out
Because I was not African American.
Then Trump came for the Mexicans
And I did not speak out
Because I was not Mexican.
Then Trump came for the Muslims
And I did not speak out
Because I was not Muslim.
Then Trump came for the gay, bi, and trans people
And I did not speak out
Because I was not gay, big, or trans.
Then Trump came for the Jews
And I did not speak out
Because I was not Jew.
Then Trump came for the journalists
And I did not speak out
Because I was not journalist.
Then Trump came for the judges
And I did not speak out
Because I was not judge.
And now Trump is coming for the Constitution of the United States
And if I do not speak out, what am I?
It’s time for everyone to remember Niemöller’s words, and speak out in support of anyone who becomes the target of hate-mongers and their alt-right cohorts.
This 20th-century poem reads as almost tailor-made for the remix culture of the 21st century. It features an almost fill-in-the-blank format. Here is the version quoted by the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum:
First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Socialist.
Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Trade Unionist.
Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me. ___________________________________________________________________________________
There is an updated version written by Gideon Lichfield rewritten for Donald Trump’s America. Be aware, it is controversial and may offend your political ideals.
What would Martin Niemöller write today?
The famous poem by an anti-Nazi pastor, rewritten for Donald Trump’s America
By Gideon Lichfield
First Trump came for the women
And I did not speak out
Because I was not a woman.
Then Trump came for the people with disabilities
And I did not speak out
Because I did not have a disability.
Then Trump came for the African Americans
And I did not speak out
Because I was not African American.
Then Trump came for the Mexicans
And I did not speak out
Because I was not Mexican.
Then Trump came for the Muslims
And I did not speak out
Because I was not Muslim.
Then Trump came for the gay, bi, and trans people
And I did not speak out
Because I was not gay, big, or trans.
Then Trump came for the Jews
And I did not speak out
Because I was not Jew.
Then Trump came for the journalists
And I did not speak out
Because I was not journalist.
Then Trump came for the judges
And I did not speak out
Because I was not judge.
And now Trump is coming for the Constitution of the United States
And if I do not speak out, what am I?
It’s time for everyone to remember Niemöller’s words, and speak out in support of anyone who becomes the target of hate-mongers and their alt-right cohorts.
Friday, April 21, 2017
The Major Influence In My Life
All of us have at least one someone that influenced us in our formative years. The major influence in my life was my maternal grandmother. Most of my behavior, actions and opinions can be linked back to her.
Due to circumstances beyond her control, my mother and I had to move in with her parents when I was still a toddler. My grandfather (also a great influence in my life) was an automobile mechanic - one of the first in our area to go to Detroit and be trained by the car manufacturers. No child support came, forcing Mother to go to work. My grandmother quit her job as an accomplished "seamstress and alteration lady" to stay home, care for me (actually, she didn’t just CARE for me, she RAISED me), and run a happy home. She continued to take in sewing at home and did everything she could to save money during those lean days. She was actively involved in church and the Order of the Eastern Star. Frequently I think of something I wish I had asked her. She wasn’t what could be called an educated person, but she sure was smart!
She seemed to enjoy being called by the unique nickname "Poy" (probably my attempt at Floy) by me and the entire neighborhood; it even spilled over into the community. She probably thought the names we used for the other grandmothers in the neighborhood - Mammy, Grandmother, Big Momma, Mrs. . . ., Aunt . . . - were "normal" names.
In my head, she was always my grandmother. In my heart, she was my mother, and Mother knew and understood that. She told people that at the funeral. She would let people know (in so many words, if not these) "Sidney and I are more like sisters separated by many years rather than mother and daughter because we were both raised by the same woman."
After my grandmother died, my grandfather told me our comfortable life style was totally due to her taking charge of the finances and "gently pushing" him to succeed. She wasn’t what would be considered affectionate, but looking back, it is clear she loved deeply. Her life wasn't easy. She was from a large family and knew how, and taught us how, to “make do.” She worked hard to make sure none of the four of us caused a black mark to be on the family name, and that we were respected in the community.
I am a few months shy of being as old as she was when she died, and I still feel “youngish” but 43 years ago she seemed so old to me. Today would have been her 119th birthday.
Due to circumstances beyond her control, my mother and I had to move in with her parents when I was still a toddler. My grandfather (also a great influence in my life) was an automobile mechanic - one of the first in our area to go to Detroit and be trained by the car manufacturers. No child support came, forcing Mother to go to work. My grandmother quit her job as an accomplished "seamstress and alteration lady" to stay home, care for me (actually, she didn’t just CARE for me, she RAISED me), and run a happy home. She continued to take in sewing at home and did everything she could to save money during those lean days. She was actively involved in church and the Order of the Eastern Star. Frequently I think of something I wish I had asked her. She wasn’t what could be called an educated person, but she sure was smart!
She seemed to enjoy being called by the unique nickname "Poy" (probably my attempt at Floy) by me and the entire neighborhood; it even spilled over into the community. She probably thought the names we used for the other grandmothers in the neighborhood - Mammy, Grandmother, Big Momma, Mrs. . . ., Aunt . . . - were "normal" names.
In my head, she was always my grandmother. In my heart, she was my mother, and Mother knew and understood that. She told people that at the funeral. She would let people know (in so many words, if not these) "Sidney and I are more like sisters separated by many years rather than mother and daughter because we were both raised by the same woman."
After my grandmother died, my grandfather told me our comfortable life style was totally due to her taking charge of the finances and "gently pushing" him to succeed. She wasn’t what would be considered affectionate, but looking back, it is clear she loved deeply. Her life wasn't easy. She was from a large family and knew how, and taught us how, to “make do.” She worked hard to make sure none of the four of us caused a black mark to be on the family name, and that we were respected in the community.
I am a few months shy of being as old as she was when she died, and I still feel “youngish” but 43 years ago she seemed so old to me. Today would have been her 119th birthday.
Sidney Lou Johnson and Floy "Poy" Jones Bedwell, 1948
Sunday, January 10, 2016
Church Attendance
I grew up - no, make that was raised - in a family that believed in, and practiced, faithful church attendance. It is so deeply-rooted in me that I feel guilty when I miss a service, even if it’s due to sickness. Today is one example. I won’t go into details, but I knew I would not be able to be in attendance today, and that was even before the snow and ice problem. Please don’t condemn me, but, to be honest, I was relieved when our Sunday School and then our Morning Worship was canceled because that meant I would not be absent and among the missing.
Looking back, it’s not hard to realize my childhood days were slower paced, less stressful, and travel was safer because drivers were polite and cared about each other. That doesn’t seem to be the case any longer. Roads are improved, leading to higher speed limits; vehicles are equipped with all sorts of electronic gadgets. Distracted driving is the norm. Anger and Road Rage are epidemic.
You may be asking yourself “Why is she listing these things and where is she going with her comments?”
As I have matured, I no longer feel I have to put my life in danger to attend church services. Before you say “God will take care of you and protect you” let me also add that many fine Christian people are killed every day even though they were not at fault. I do know God will take care of me. I also believe God gave me a brain, common sense, and discernment and expects me to use them.
The Israelites were instructed to go to the Temple in Jerusalem for certain Feasts, but that was not several times a week, or even every week. The writer of Hebrews instructed Christian believers in “not forsaking the assembling of ourselves together.” Other than these instructions, I do not find any reference to spending 1, 2, 3, or more times a week in church. Worship? Yes, but that is to be done daily, hourly, and minute by minute. In other words, that is personal, and the gathering together for services is to encourage each other and share our concerns and witness.
Am I wrong? Maybe, but I no longer feel it is necessary to jeopardize myself when the officials warn everyone to “be careful and use good judgment before getting out on the dangerous roadways.” I think God understands my heart.
Looking back, it’s not hard to realize my childhood days were slower paced, less stressful, and travel was safer because drivers were polite and cared about each other. That doesn’t seem to be the case any longer. Roads are improved, leading to higher speed limits; vehicles are equipped with all sorts of electronic gadgets. Distracted driving is the norm. Anger and Road Rage are epidemic.
You may be asking yourself “Why is she listing these things and where is she going with her comments?”
As I have matured, I no longer feel I have to put my life in danger to attend church services. Before you say “God will take care of you and protect you” let me also add that many fine Christian people are killed every day even though they were not at fault. I do know God will take care of me. I also believe God gave me a brain, common sense, and discernment and expects me to use them.
The Israelites were instructed to go to the Temple in Jerusalem for certain Feasts, but that was not several times a week, or even every week. The writer of Hebrews instructed Christian believers in “not forsaking the assembling of ourselves together.” Other than these instructions, I do not find any reference to spending 1, 2, 3, or more times a week in church. Worship? Yes, but that is to be done daily, hourly, and minute by minute. In other words, that is personal, and the gathering together for services is to encourage each other and share our concerns and witness.
Am I wrong? Maybe, but I no longer feel it is necessary to jeopardize myself when the officials warn everyone to “be careful and use good judgment before getting out on the dangerous roadways.” I think God understands my heart.
Monday, December 21, 2015
Pets are a blessing from God
Another tale of my fur babies. Yesterday when I left for church, both Hershel and Maggie were in the house - Maggie on the back of the recliner and Hershel on the floor. When I returned three hours later, Hershel came running out to meet me, as usual. He “helped” me refill the bird feeders and then ran around the yard for a few minutes, and then back inside. Maggie wasn’t there, but that’s not unusual. I changed clothes, sat down to catch up on my email and Facebook. Hershel had gotten into the recliner with me and slept for a while. As time went on - hour by hour, I realized Maggie had not come back inside - still not all that unusual. After nearly four hours, I began to be concerned. It was getting close to sunset and she usually comes in mid afternoon. I had not seen any signs of her at all.
I train all my fur babies to respond to a clap - not a whistle or call. Clapping works best for me since I have frequent sore throats and hoarseness. I opened the door, clapped for Maggie, closed the door and waited for her to at least show up in the yard. After five minutes or so, I repeated that process because if she’s out prowling/hunting in the woods behind the house, it will take a few minutes for her to make her way home. As I was clapping, I scanned my yard, the edges of the woods, and my neighbors yard, knowing she comes from that direction often. Way off - the far edge of my neighbor’s yard - I spied this dark stationary patch that had hints of golden and white splotches. I clapped and called her name. Slight movement. One more solitary clap and the spot became a flash of color, running full speed and stretching out like a jaguar! Sure enough it was her.
She came inside, rubbed around my legs, and settled down. She hasn’t been out since then, but it soon got dark and it’s raining this morning. I’m not fooling myself that she was afraid or threatened, or won’t do it again. I think she just was enjoying this warm December weather and didn’t want to come inside. I was just amazed at her stillness, her speed, and her apparent happiness to see that I was home since she hadn’t checked in with me.
Pets are such a blessing from God. They make life happier; medical people tell us we are healthier when we have a pet; they depend on us for food and protection; and the companionship and unconditional love they give cannot be described accurately - only felt.
Until next time . . . .
I train all my fur babies to respond to a clap - not a whistle or call. Clapping works best for me since I have frequent sore throats and hoarseness. I opened the door, clapped for Maggie, closed the door and waited for her to at least show up in the yard. After five minutes or so, I repeated that process because if she’s out prowling/hunting in the woods behind the house, it will take a few minutes for her to make her way home. As I was clapping, I scanned my yard, the edges of the woods, and my neighbors yard, knowing she comes from that direction often. Way off - the far edge of my neighbor’s yard - I spied this dark stationary patch that had hints of golden and white splotches. I clapped and called her name. Slight movement. One more solitary clap and the spot became a flash of color, running full speed and stretching out like a jaguar! Sure enough it was her.
She came inside, rubbed around my legs, and settled down. She hasn’t been out since then, but it soon got dark and it’s raining this morning. I’m not fooling myself that she was afraid or threatened, or won’t do it again. I think she just was enjoying this warm December weather and didn’t want to come inside. I was just amazed at her stillness, her speed, and her apparent happiness to see that I was home since she hadn’t checked in with me.
Pets are such a blessing from God. They make life happier; medical people tell us we are healthier when we have a pet; they depend on us for food and protection; and the companionship and unconditional love they give cannot be described accurately - only felt.
Until next time . . . .
Saturday, October 10, 2015
Counting My Blessings
I had made plans to make the two hours drive to LaVergne, TN (south across the county line from Nashville) to spend the day with my granddaughters and their sons - one I had never seen in his short almost four months of life, and the other I had not seen in over a year.
On my way out the door, I decided to make a very quick detour to drop off my trash at the transfer station. That only took about six or seven minutes. Later I realized these minutes played a big part in my safety for the drive! After being on the road a little over an hour, I came upon a double line of traffic, completely stopped and many of the drivers were out walking around, talking to each other. We had no idea what the problem was, but were hearing the expected delay would be about two hours. That was an inconvenience to me but many of the people were on business and/or doctor appointment trips, plus the large number of “big rig” drivers that were stopped.
First Blessing of the day - I was in familiar territory. I knew I had passed an exit just a short way back that would detour me back to the interstate. But that would mean getting out of this growing double line of traffic and managing to drive the wrong direction along the side of the highway to get back there. As I sat there wondering if I should try that, lo and behold, here came a line of cars up the edge of the road, headed back the other way. Now that I discovered I would not be the only one doing this, I managed to turn around and started that way. Along our journey to freedom from the stoppage, other travelers signaled us to slow down and ask questions. No, we didn’t know what was wrong, but guessed it might be an accident. Did we know how to bypass this after we got to the exit? In my case, I was able to tell them yes. One couple in particular asked me how to get around to make it to Nashville. They were from out of state and seem to be looking at medical papers for phone numbers. I told them I was going to Nashville and they could follow me. After we finally got to the exit I had passed before, I made the turn and headed for the open road again. As I was driving down a long stretch of the two lane back roads, I looked in my rear view mirror to see if the couple had made the turn with me. I was surprised to see a long caravan of possibly 30-40 cars back there. When we got back on the interstate, there were no vehicles coming from the direction we had just left. That indicated to me that the problem was serious and long because we had bypassed at least two other entrances to I-24. Several of the cars and trucks that had followed me pulled along beside of me waved, mouthed “Thank You” and we all went on our ways. That became Blessing #2 - I was in the right place at the right time to help others.
Later in the day, I learned a semi had blown a tire and caught fire. It was at least four miles ahead of where I had been stopped and there were others stopped for at least three miles behind me. The interstate had been blocked not the two hours first mentioned, but ended up being about six hours. The truck drivers and some farmers hauling cattle were unable to turn around like those of us in the smaller cars, trucks, and vans. My heart went out to them.
Side note: I must admit until I got back on track and out of the problem, I had not thought about the people involved in whatever caused the block. (According to the news, the driver was uninjured. Praise the Lord.) I was self absorbed, thinking that I was inconvenienced and delayed getting to see my family. Neither did I realize until much later that the fact I had taken the extra time to take off my trash might have kept me from being at the front of that line of traffic and I might not have been in a place I could turn around. The sides of the highway along that stretch are both flat where I was and a very steep ditch in other places.
I did make it safely and had a wonderful time. On my way home, I saw two wrecks, but both of them were going the other direction. Blessing #3.
As I got closer to home, I thought about pulling into a drive-thru to get something to bring home to eat. I decided to drive straight in and fix myself a PBJ sandwich (definitely not a favorite, but simple and easy) when I got in. I had not been in the house more than 20 seconds when the phone rang. Back tracking just a bit, I bought a new TV two days before and since I still have a big monster analog set, knew I would not be able to move it for the new HD flat screen, I made arrangements for it to be delivered and installed by a Sam’s Club technician. The appointment was for next week. Back to the phone call. It was the technician asking if it would be okay to come out and install it right then - four days early. Yes, of course!!! Blessing #4.
I didn’t know at the time I got the phone call, but during the next couple of hours, I realized I knew the technician - not personally, but knew who he was and things about him - such as he had previously owned and managed a Christian bookstore in town and I had done lots of business there. Blessing #5
This blessing didn’t turn out quite as well. The newer TV would not receive a signal from the satellite receiver. Nothing! He spent nearly two hours on the phone with the satellite technician. He had his phone on speaker so I was able to hear both sides of the conversation. The female voice was one of those that is difficult to understand language wise. She was both reading from a book and asking those around her for advice. The oft repeated phrases were “Are you sure it is pulled in? Now check the connection. Does the TV with the receiver box work? Let’s try this again.” Finally it was obvious she did not have a clue what he was trying to explain to her and the battery in his phone was going down, so he politely hung up. He had already taken the old one out to the truck to haul off, but brought it back in and hooked it back up until I called the satellite company and set up for a technician to come and check their equipment to get the new one working. He said he would come back when I call and would then program the new one, show me how it works, and haul off the old one.
As soon as he left, I called the company again. After I explained what I needed, the male voice said “Let’s try this first.” I firmly told him “There will not be any ‘try this’ because the TV is no longer hooked up and the old one is back where we started. Besides we went through two hours of ‘try this again’ from another person that didn’t take time to understand the problem or have a clue what to do.” I continued with “I want someone that knows what to do come to my house and get this problem fixed so I can watch my new TV with the service I pay you for.” I have an appointment set up for this afternoon. Blessing#6.
I will add to my list of blessings after the installation is completed to my satisfaction. Thank you for your attention of reading this long narration. God bless you.
10-9-15 - The satellite technician came, understood what the problem was, got the TV working in about 5 minutes, even set it up to work with my WiFi. He took time to show me many things about the TV that I either did not know or did not understand. Blessing #7
I played with it to set the color and picture like I want it (still tweaking) and listed the old one on Facebook as a free item if someone will come pick up. I hate for the Sam’s Club man to return just to pick up the TV.
Monday, February 09, 2015
With a heavy heart, I write . . .
On January 18, about 10:30 P.M., she had a seizure and died in my arms. Everything was going as normal until bedtime. I put her out to potty; she didn’t come right back in, so I went to get her. She was laying on her side on the garage floor (She normally laid flat on her belly.) I picked her up and carried her to the bedroom and, as I laid her down, noticed she was gasping for breath and started to slobber. I started talking to her and sat down, holding her. Within five minutes, she had the seizure and was gone in less than a minute. Hershel was already asleep on the bed and didn’t see this tragedy.
Three weeks have passed since that night, and the pain has gotten easier, and Hershel has days that are somewhat back to normal. We both still miss our sweet girl. Hershel and I received sympathy and condolence cards from a neighbor and the staff of the veterinary where they both get their checkups and many well wishes on Facebook. I appreciate their understanding of how we feel after the loss of “just a pet.” Pets become our children.
I have lost several cats, dogs, fish, and birds in my life. Each one was special. They cannot be replaced. Another pet just opens a new space in my heart and fills it with more love.
So, it is with a heavy heart, that I write this memorial to Phoebe. She will never be forgotten. She will always be in our hearts.
Wednesday, July 02, 2014
Conflicted - what to do?
I am conflicted and have been for some time. While I believe in the right of every LEGAL citizen to have freedom of all sorts except those that cause harm to others, I am struggling with rulings and laws that allow those who are out to gain freedoms for themselves and take mine away. I am speaking of those freedoms that I consider as a slam against my Christian and moral beliefs. The ones that have won those freedoms tend to be “in your face,” daring us to say anything. Yet they moan, groan, and criticize when I take a stand in regards to my faith and protection of my freedoms, claiming I am not “tolerant.” Are they being tolerant toward me? I don’t think so!
It seems that every day there is another news report that assaults my Christian faith. I can withstand attacks against myself, but the things I am referring to are things that my grandchildren have to deal with not only today but in the future. They already have become conditioned to not even blink at things that my generation thought improper to talk about in public. There are things accepted as the norm today that we were too horrified to even whisper about. These things are out there, in the public media, every day.
As I said before, I am conflicted and struggling with how to deal with these things. I love the USA, but I don’t love what is happening in today’s society. Where could I, and others with the same feelings, go that would afford me the same privileges and freedoms I enjoy but still eliminate the things I don’t like? No where! So, what am I to do? The answer lies in continuing to take a stand, encourage, support, and vote for candidates whose lives exhibit (not just say) the values I hold dear, and most of all - PRAY!
It seems that every day there is another news report that assaults my Christian faith. I can withstand attacks against myself, but the things I am referring to are things that my grandchildren have to deal with not only today but in the future. They already have become conditioned to not even blink at things that my generation thought improper to talk about in public. There are things accepted as the norm today that we were too horrified to even whisper about. These things are out there, in the public media, every day.
As I said before, I am conflicted and struggling with how to deal with these things. I love the USA, but I don’t love what is happening in today’s society. Where could I, and others with the same feelings, go that would afford me the same privileges and freedoms I enjoy but still eliminate the things I don’t like? No where! So, what am I to do? The answer lies in continuing to take a stand, encourage, support, and vote for candidates whose lives exhibit (not just say) the values I hold dear, and most of all - PRAY!
Tuesday, May 27, 2014
Happy But Also Sad
I don’t know if I’m being smart to share this or not, but I’m going to. Phoebe has been sedentary for the last few years and has gotten obese. Based on she not wanting to be touched and biting, scratching, and clawing when she was, I believe this was due to an injury she must have received to her back/hip area. I have decided this has caused her to get arthritis, making it difficult and painful for her to move around a lot.
I started giving her vitamins and glucosamine about a month ago. Since then, there has been noticeable improvement in her. She is playing with her canine brother, Hershel, again. She is even back to “hunting” just as cats do. I found Blue Jay feathers spread over the yard a few days ago; then a couple of days ago, I found a dead Carolina Wren laying beside my van. This morning, I was “gifted” with another one in the kitchen floor when I got up.
Part of me is sorry and upset she is killing these birds, especially since they have been nesting in the garage and their singing has been driving me crazy. The other part of me is happy she is feeling better and active again. She’s still overweight, but I’ve noticed a decreased stomach and waddling going on.
In the end, I can't be upset with her for doing just what her God given nature is.
I started giving her vitamins and glucosamine about a month ago. Since then, there has been noticeable improvement in her. She is playing with her canine brother, Hershel, again. She is even back to “hunting” just as cats do. I found Blue Jay feathers spread over the yard a few days ago; then a couple of days ago, I found a dead Carolina Wren laying beside my van. This morning, I was “gifted” with another one in the kitchen floor when I got up.
Part of me is sorry and upset she is killing these birds, especially since they have been nesting in the garage and their singing has been driving me crazy. The other part of me is happy she is feeling better and active again. She’s still overweight, but I’ve noticed a decreased stomach and waddling going on.
In the end, I can't be upset with her for doing just what her God given nature is.
Friday, February 28, 2014
God is sooooo good!
God is sooooo good! Normally, on this February Friday morning, I would have been up and on the way to Memphis for a Historical Foundation Board meeting by 6:00 AM. A couple of weeks ago, events caused this meeting to be canceled. This morning, I got up about 6:15, went outside to take a couple of beautiful pictures of the sky, then sat down to check messages.
Everything seemed normal. A little over an hour later, I started noticing a smell that seem to be something getting hot. Smoke alarm wasn’t going off and I didn’t notice a smoky look, but that smell - unmistakenly electrical - was getting worse. I finally traced it down to the central heat and air return air vent. Checked the thermostat, heat indicator on and running, but fan didn’t seem to be coming on. Turned off thermostat, still heard sound of fan trying to come one. Flipped circuit breaker and started making calls.
Was relieved by the sight of a wonderful man arriving less than hour later. He checked unit outside and found the bearings had burned out. He is now on the way to find me another motor and I should have heat again before night.
Thankfully, we are having warmer temperatures today (even though they are not up to average) than the last few weeks and next week is being forecast to again be below average. If it were one of those days we didn't get out of the teens, I would be having to find a place to go for the next few hours.
All those things show how God works, but the most important part for me is that if I had gone to Memphis, I probably would not have had a house standing when I returned.
Now, don’t you agree, God is good all the time???
Everything seemed normal. A little over an hour later, I started noticing a smell that seem to be something getting hot. Smoke alarm wasn’t going off and I didn’t notice a smoky look, but that smell - unmistakenly electrical - was getting worse. I finally traced it down to the central heat and air return air vent. Checked the thermostat, heat indicator on and running, but fan didn’t seem to be coming on. Turned off thermostat, still heard sound of fan trying to come one. Flipped circuit breaker and started making calls.
Was relieved by the sight of a wonderful man arriving less than hour later. He checked unit outside and found the bearings had burned out. He is now on the way to find me another motor and I should have heat again before night.
Thankfully, we are having warmer temperatures today (even though they are not up to average) than the last few weeks and next week is being forecast to again be below average. If it were one of those days we didn't get out of the teens, I would be having to find a place to go for the next few hours.
All those things show how God works, but the most important part for me is that if I had gone to Memphis, I probably would not have had a house standing when I returned.
Now, don’t you agree, God is good all the time???
Saturday, June 15, 2013
Father's Day Tribute 2013
Lubie Lynn Bedwell 1951
In the past I have praised my husband, my son, and my son-in-love on Father’s Day. This year, I am going to praise my grandfather.
When I was three years old, my biological father decided he no longer wanted to be bothered with me or my mother and disappeared from our lives as well as those of his parents. Her father immediately stepped in and took over the vacated role. I was raised as Mother’s much younger sister. I knew the difference in my head, but not my heart. As a toddler I had named him “Bangdaddy” and he was, and will be, known as that by all my friends, the family, the entire community, and me for eternity. He was a kind and gentle man with a strength of character that would have rivaled Superman. How he survived in a house full of females, I never have understood. Even all the pets except for one parakeet were female. I guess his way of coping with all of us in his “leisure” time was his Masonic/Shrine obligations and church work. He was so well respected that at the age of 88, he was asked to return to the Board of Deacons to fill out an unexpired term of one of his friends that had died. The others were disappointed when he refused even an honorary title. Even at the age of 91, and even though he was tired physically and ready to join my grandmother, it seemed to us that his life was cut way too short.
There was never a doubt to anyone who knew him that my mother, I, and my children were the light of his life, only second place to God.
I could continue to extol his virtues and love for others for a long time, but, because the entire World Wide Web cannot hold all the good things he did in his lifetime, I will stop by saying “Happy Father’s Day to Lubie Lynn Bedwell. I wish you were here. I miss your unconditional love and acceptance.”
Thursday, April 11, 2013
Driver, Deer, Dog, Neighbor, or Problem Solver?
A few nights ago, a friend told me about a situation that nearly broke my heart. You see, she lives along a minor highway in a rural area where wildlife is frequently active. Two days ago a woman hit a deer in front of her elderly next door neighbor’s house. Because the deer was laying in the roadway and blocking traffic, a couple of the neighbors pulled the deer into a ditch. My friend called the county authorities to inform them there was a carcass and it could be picked up by the proper agency. Since night was approaching, no one came that afternoon.
The next morning, the deer was still there, but seemed to be in a different position. My friend’s mother thought she noticed the deer’s ears twitching. Before long, a large neighborhood dog, a German Shepherd type, came up and starting chewing on the deer. Each time the dog would bite, the deer would kick. The deer was still alive!
Another phone call was made, informing the Highway Department this was not a carcass, but a living deer that was being eaten alive by a dog, and would probably not survive.
About an hour or so later, a few agency representatives gathered at the scene. The dog became aggressive; when the men tried to pick up the deer, the dog would try to protect his find. They finally ran the dog off and prepared to remove the deer, but every time they tried to pick it up, they would be kicked. What to do? The decision was made to shoot the deer. Crack - one shot. The deer still did not die. Time seemed to stand still while they waited. Another shot was taken. Still alive. It took at least 15 minutes or more for the deer to finally succumb to all the injuries - being hit and run over by a car, laying in a wet, cold ditch all night, having a dog try to make a meal out of him, and being shot twice with bullets.
As she told me, we both were disturbed thinking about all the pain that beautiful animal had to feel as well as the mental anguish that had to have taken place. My heart still breaks for what that deer must have gone through for many hours, but then, I know the pain for the deer is now over. Those who have participated in this tragedy have moved on, but the memory probably will remain for a long time.
Thinking about this episode during the night, I realized many times I have experienced similar issues with my behavior. Which of these actors in the scene was I most like? The driver of the car who, even though was unable to avoid the deer, still was responsible for injury to another living being? The deer - knocked down by life events, not dead yet, but still unable to pull through? The neighbors - not able to make the situation right, but exercising a little effort to find someone who would help? The dog - constantly being a tormentor to the weak and helpless? Maybe the animal control person, or the law enforcement officer - sizing up the situation, discussing the possibilities, and then taking the needed action repeatedly until successful?
I must admit I have probably played all parts at different times. I suspect I have been in the role of the driver many times - unintentionally and unable to avoid inflicting injury. I know I have been like the deer - going about my life, not paying attention to the risk I was placing myself in, and venturing into the direct path of the oncoming danger. I would hope I would be in the role of the neighbors - helping with whatever resources that would be available. I regret I could have ever been in the role of the dog - adding to the torment of the injured. The thought of having to be the law enforcement person, although needed and vital to have solved this situation, would be the most difficult role to play.
I think about times when I have been knocked down by life; I would be almost lifeless and ineffective - almost as useless as a corpse. After a time, I would do my best to get back on my feet, but most times the struggle would be wasted because I could not recover on my own. Then something or someone would come along when I was at my most vulnerable and torment me while I was weak and unable to protect myself. Sometimes, if I was fortunate, someone would notice I needed help and would try to encourage me, and provide aid and assistance to me.
Thankfully, it is evident that up to this point in my life, I have not had to be shot and killed to be put out of my misery. However, I must admit that at times I have been in so deep despair that I might have welcomed the relief.
But God isn’t done with me yet!!
The next morning, the deer was still there, but seemed to be in a different position. My friend’s mother thought she noticed the deer’s ears twitching. Before long, a large neighborhood dog, a German Shepherd type, came up and starting chewing on the deer. Each time the dog would bite, the deer would kick. The deer was still alive!
Another phone call was made, informing the Highway Department this was not a carcass, but a living deer that was being eaten alive by a dog, and would probably not survive.
About an hour or so later, a few agency representatives gathered at the scene. The dog became aggressive; when the men tried to pick up the deer, the dog would try to protect his find. They finally ran the dog off and prepared to remove the deer, but every time they tried to pick it up, they would be kicked. What to do? The decision was made to shoot the deer. Crack - one shot. The deer still did not die. Time seemed to stand still while they waited. Another shot was taken. Still alive. It took at least 15 minutes or more for the deer to finally succumb to all the injuries - being hit and run over by a car, laying in a wet, cold ditch all night, having a dog try to make a meal out of him, and being shot twice with bullets.
As she told me, we both were disturbed thinking about all the pain that beautiful animal had to feel as well as the mental anguish that had to have taken place. My heart still breaks for what that deer must have gone through for many hours, but then, I know the pain for the deer is now over. Those who have participated in this tragedy have moved on, but the memory probably will remain for a long time.
Thinking about this episode during the night, I realized many times I have experienced similar issues with my behavior. Which of these actors in the scene was I most like? The driver of the car who, even though was unable to avoid the deer, still was responsible for injury to another living being? The deer - knocked down by life events, not dead yet, but still unable to pull through? The neighbors - not able to make the situation right, but exercising a little effort to find someone who would help? The dog - constantly being a tormentor to the weak and helpless? Maybe the animal control person, or the law enforcement officer - sizing up the situation, discussing the possibilities, and then taking the needed action repeatedly until successful?
I must admit I have probably played all parts at different times. I suspect I have been in the role of the driver many times - unintentionally and unable to avoid inflicting injury. I know I have been like the deer - going about my life, not paying attention to the risk I was placing myself in, and venturing into the direct path of the oncoming danger. I would hope I would be in the role of the neighbors - helping with whatever resources that would be available. I regret I could have ever been in the role of the dog - adding to the torment of the injured. The thought of having to be the law enforcement person, although needed and vital to have solved this situation, would be the most difficult role to play.
I think about times when I have been knocked down by life; I would be almost lifeless and ineffective - almost as useless as a corpse. After a time, I would do my best to get back on my feet, but most times the struggle would be wasted because I could not recover on my own. Then something or someone would come along when I was at my most vulnerable and torment me while I was weak and unable to protect myself. Sometimes, if I was fortunate, someone would notice I needed help and would try to encourage me, and provide aid and assistance to me.
Thankfully, it is evident that up to this point in my life, I have not had to be shot and killed to be put out of my misery. However, I must admit that at times I have been in so deep despair that I might have welcomed the relief.
But God isn’t done with me yet!!
Monday, December 24, 2012
Honoring the Unofficial Rosie Riveters
I just finished watching a Today Show segment honoring Rosie the Riveters. It started me thinking about what my mother and grandmother did during those years. I’ll start first with my mother. My father had basically kicked her and their 3 year old daughter (me), out of the home so he could continue his affair with our married landlady. (Another story for another time.) Mother, an only child, and I moved in with her parents.
My grandfather was one of the first automotive mechanics sent by their Car Dealer employers to be trained in Detroit by the automotive pioneers, teaching them the how to take care of and repair the motors and other working parts. Until about 20 years ago, I thought my grandmother was simply “a homemaker.” But more about that later.
(I realize this next part seems very hostile, but I need to include it to explain the rest of this history. It is the truth, even though it is ugly.) My other grandparents never helped us. It was the other way around, with my mother and me supporting them the rest of their lives even though my dad’s mother openly and publicly blamed me (remember my age?) for the breakup of the marriage. Even though, he was also an only child, he disappeared from all of our lives a couple of years following their divorce. He reappeared 35 years later after both his parents were dead. He told me he never got in touch with them because he had overheard them talking when he was young; they were discussing the possibility of giving him away. They were in their late 30s when he was born. They never owned any property and my grandfather never held a full-time job. He would do house painting on occasions when someone asked him to help them. His mother occasionally did quilting for others. In other words, they did not have sufficient income to live on or take care of him, but he thought they did not want him. (Sadly, he may have been partially right because they never exhibited much concern for others. They rarely lived in the same place more than six months because one or the other of them would get into a quarrel with a neighbor.)
Since my father had no intention of supporting us (he paid a total of $20.00 child support over the next 15 years and no alimony), Mother had to go to work. She found a job in the Merit Clothing Company, starting at an elevated pay of $0.50 an hour. The other factory employees were only making about half that, but Mother had experience in all areas as a seamstress. Since it was wartime, their main product was uniforms for the soldiers. Most times she worked six days a week and ten hours a day. Now, I’m sure you are thinking “How in the world did she take care of a home and child?” Well, she couldn’t. My grandmother quit her job as a “repair lady” in an alterations shop so she could stay home and care for me and the home. I did not know about her career until many, many years later and only then because when her former boss died, the employer’s family talked about how sad she was that she had failed in her efforts to keep my grandmother as an employee - even to the point of offering her the position of Manager of the business. They said my grandmother’s response was “My daughter needs to work worse than I do, and for her to be able to do that my granddaughter needs me to be at home with her.”
During those early years, and until the after the end of World War II, there were many weeks when I did not see my mother from Sunday to Sunday. Of course, my grandmother was always there. She continued to work as a seamstress and do alterations, but did it in the home. I knew in my head who was the parent and who were the grandparents, but my heart did not agree with my head knowledge. Mother knew this, always accepted that fact, and explained it to others.
Both of these ladies took up the call to help the war effort by what they did. They may not have been official “Rosie the Riveters,” but they qualify in my eyes.
Women today are blessed, or cursed, however you view it, by what the women in the early 1940s were willing to do when the “boys and men” left their families and jobs behind. Life for them, and the women following them, was never the same. The world learned what women are capable and willing to do, and it isn’t just cooking, cleaning, and raising families!
My grandfather was one of the first automotive mechanics sent by their Car Dealer employers to be trained in Detroit by the automotive pioneers, teaching them the how to take care of and repair the motors and other working parts. Until about 20 years ago, I thought my grandmother was simply “a homemaker.” But more about that later.
(I realize this next part seems very hostile, but I need to include it to explain the rest of this history. It is the truth, even though it is ugly.) My other grandparents never helped us. It was the other way around, with my mother and me supporting them the rest of their lives even though my dad’s mother openly and publicly blamed me (remember my age?) for the breakup of the marriage. Even though, he was also an only child, he disappeared from all of our lives a couple of years following their divorce. He reappeared 35 years later after both his parents were dead. He told me he never got in touch with them because he had overheard them talking when he was young; they were discussing the possibility of giving him away. They were in their late 30s when he was born. They never owned any property and my grandfather never held a full-time job. He would do house painting on occasions when someone asked him to help them. His mother occasionally did quilting for others. In other words, they did not have sufficient income to live on or take care of him, but he thought they did not want him. (Sadly, he may have been partially right because they never exhibited much concern for others. They rarely lived in the same place more than six months because one or the other of them would get into a quarrel with a neighbor.)
Since my father had no intention of supporting us (he paid a total of $20.00 child support over the next 15 years and no alimony), Mother had to go to work. She found a job in the Merit Clothing Company, starting at an elevated pay of $0.50 an hour. The other factory employees were only making about half that, but Mother had experience in all areas as a seamstress. Since it was wartime, their main product was uniforms for the soldiers. Most times she worked six days a week and ten hours a day. Now, I’m sure you are thinking “How in the world did she take care of a home and child?” Well, she couldn’t. My grandmother quit her job as a “repair lady” in an alterations shop so she could stay home and care for me and the home. I did not know about her career until many, many years later and only then because when her former boss died, the employer’s family talked about how sad she was that she had failed in her efforts to keep my grandmother as an employee - even to the point of offering her the position of Manager of the business. They said my grandmother’s response was “My daughter needs to work worse than I do, and for her to be able to do that my granddaughter needs me to be at home with her.”
During those early years, and until the after the end of World War II, there were many weeks when I did not see my mother from Sunday to Sunday. Of course, my grandmother was always there. She continued to work as a seamstress and do alterations, but did it in the home. I knew in my head who was the parent and who were the grandparents, but my heart did not agree with my head knowledge. Mother knew this, always accepted that fact, and explained it to others.
Both of these ladies took up the call to help the war effort by what they did. They may not have been official “Rosie the Riveters,” but they qualify in my eyes.
Women today are blessed, or cursed, however you view it, by what the women in the early 1940s were willing to do when the “boys and men” left their families and jobs behind. Life for them, and the women following them, was never the same. The world learned what women are capable and willing to do, and it isn’t just cooking, cleaning, and raising families!
Friday, October 26, 2012
Feeling Things Just Aren't Right
I awoke this morning with that “sense of things not being right” and began reviewing events from yesterday. The previous 24 hour period was loaded with unwanted and unpleasant news.
First, my friend’s cousin had fallen for the umpteenth time and was having trouble breathing so she was taken to the ER. Her falls are a result of MS and Parkinsons. Her condition is getting more aggressive. After X-rays, and determination of more cracked ribs, she was sent back home.
Second, my pastor, who has been experiencing severe back pain and had gotten less than good blood work, was waiting for a diagnosis from the doctor when he received word one of his sisters had been taken to the hospital in Memphis and was “at the point of death” from kidney failure and a massive heart attack. (Next day - Got the information his sister died last night about 8:00.) He was only a couple of hours away from his doctor appointment in Paducah. When he and his wife met with the doctor, the news was anything but what we all wanted to hear - Stage 3 Multiple Myeloma. His treatment will be in Little Rock, Arkansas, in a hospital that is rated the best in the country for this disease. We are all scrambling to help him as he awaits for arrangements to be made.
Third, my friend got another call, but this was about another one of her former co-workers and dear friend who has been dealing with serious heart trouble for years. Her specialist is in Nashville and three of them take turns driving her for her frequent appointments. This time, fortunately, her husband was the one to take her because during the appointment the doctor discovered her heart was not getting enough blood flow and she was immediately taken to ICU, where she remains this morning. The outlook for her does not look positive. Last night, the prognosis was very grim, saying she probably would not survive. Thankfully, she is a very strong Christian, but none of us are ready to let her go yet.
Lastly, (and this is about me), while I was sitting thinking about all these things, plus another situation involving a friend of my son-in-love who was placed in harms way in his job and was forced to shoot and kill an attacker a few days ago, I was reading the posts on Facebook. One of them was from a woman who still has most of her childhood friends living close by. They get together often, take trips together, and have slumber parties, even though most of them are married. I must admit - I am jealous.
At least half of my childhood friends have died; the others do not live close and we rarely are in contact and that’s through Facebook. Not having any siblings, experiencing the deaths of both parents, all grandparents, and my husband, I feel a lot of the time, completely all alone. My son and daughter, and their children, have their own lives - as it should be. I have made a few good friends the last few years, but it is just not the same as having someone who has known me most of my life. There is no one to share memories with. Being an only child of two people who were also an only child has made me very independent, and people have told me that admire that trait in me. But - there are times when I wish I weren’t. Sometimes I just need friends to lean on. Sometimes -----
First, my friend’s cousin had fallen for the umpteenth time and was having trouble breathing so she was taken to the ER. Her falls are a result of MS and Parkinsons. Her condition is getting more aggressive. After X-rays, and determination of more cracked ribs, she was sent back home.
Second, my pastor, who has been experiencing severe back pain and had gotten less than good blood work, was waiting for a diagnosis from the doctor when he received word one of his sisters had been taken to the hospital in Memphis and was “at the point of death” from kidney failure and a massive heart attack. (Next day - Got the information his sister died last night about 8:00.) He was only a couple of hours away from his doctor appointment in Paducah. When he and his wife met with the doctor, the news was anything but what we all wanted to hear - Stage 3 Multiple Myeloma. His treatment will be in Little Rock, Arkansas, in a hospital that is rated the best in the country for this disease. We are all scrambling to help him as he awaits for arrangements to be made.
Third, my friend got another call, but this was about another one of her former co-workers and dear friend who has been dealing with serious heart trouble for years. Her specialist is in Nashville and three of them take turns driving her for her frequent appointments. This time, fortunately, her husband was the one to take her because during the appointment the doctor discovered her heart was not getting enough blood flow and she was immediately taken to ICU, where she remains this morning. The outlook for her does not look positive. Last night, the prognosis was very grim, saying she probably would not survive. Thankfully, she is a very strong Christian, but none of us are ready to let her go yet.
Lastly, (and this is about me), while I was sitting thinking about all these things, plus another situation involving a friend of my son-in-love who was placed in harms way in his job and was forced to shoot and kill an attacker a few days ago, I was reading the posts on Facebook. One of them was from a woman who still has most of her childhood friends living close by. They get together often, take trips together, and have slumber parties, even though most of them are married. I must admit - I am jealous.
At least half of my childhood friends have died; the others do not live close and we rarely are in contact and that’s through Facebook. Not having any siblings, experiencing the deaths of both parents, all grandparents, and my husband, I feel a lot of the time, completely all alone. My son and daughter, and their children, have their own lives - as it should be. I have made a few good friends the last few years, but it is just not the same as having someone who has known me most of my life. There is no one to share memories with. Being an only child of two people who were also an only child has made me very independent, and people have told me that admire that trait in me. But - there are times when I wish I weren’t. Sometimes I just need friends to lean on. Sometimes -----
Friday, May 04, 2012
Some Old Person?
Have you seen the commercial where the woman says “That’s not for me. That’s for some old person”? Well, that was my first reaction when asked about doing something for another blog - one for the population into their "third age". But then I remembered, according to the calendar, I AM an old person.
I don’t feel like an old person - at least most of the time. When I look in the mirror or when I try to do something physical that years ago would have been a no-brainer, I am stunned that I am no longer part of the younger generation.
My generation has been blessed with medical science’s findings that our body can stay strong into the older years simply by being physically active, and our minds can stay sharp by doing puzzles. In other words, to quote a saying we have heard for years - “use it or lose it.” Because of their discovery, many people now remain active, vital, and useful well into their 80s and 90s. Willard Scott stays busy announcing birthdays for people who are in their 100s.
For years I’ve heard the title “Sandwich Generation” applied to my age group. I understand that, but I would like to change that to “Club Sandwich Generation.” My 92½ year-old mother (isn’t it amazing that as we get up into those higher number years we return to the childlike behavior of adding fractions to our age?) is still up and going with very little help. I do her shopping and drive her anywhere she needs to be (i.e. doctor appointments and church) plus some things she just wants to do. I also want to be able to spend time with my children, grandchildren, and now a brand-new great-grandson. The fact that I must divide my time between what I want to do and what I need to do, keeps me constantly on the move. I honestly believe I am busier now than I was when I was younger. Then I was stressed because I thought I was too busy.
True, at times things seem overwhelming, but I am thankful that God has given me the stamina and ability to handle the responsibilities I have and also be able to include the things I enjoy in my daily routine. For the most part I am still healthy, still interested in a lot of things, and have enough resources to not be dependent on someone else - yet. One of these days I may be that “old person” who needs safety equipment to alert others when I need help. For now - well, “That’s for some (other) old person.”
I don’t feel like an old person - at least most of the time. When I look in the mirror or when I try to do something physical that years ago would have been a no-brainer, I am stunned that I am no longer part of the younger generation.
My generation has been blessed with medical science’s findings that our body can stay strong into the older years simply by being physically active, and our minds can stay sharp by doing puzzles. In other words, to quote a saying we have heard for years - “use it or lose it.” Because of their discovery, many people now remain active, vital, and useful well into their 80s and 90s. Willard Scott stays busy announcing birthdays for people who are in their 100s.
For years I’ve heard the title “Sandwich Generation” applied to my age group. I understand that, but I would like to change that to “Club Sandwich Generation.” My 92½ year-old mother (isn’t it amazing that as we get up into those higher number years we return to the childlike behavior of adding fractions to our age?) is still up and going with very little help. I do her shopping and drive her anywhere she needs to be (i.e. doctor appointments and church) plus some things she just wants to do. I also want to be able to spend time with my children, grandchildren, and now a brand-new great-grandson. The fact that I must divide my time between what I want to do and what I need to do, keeps me constantly on the move. I honestly believe I am busier now than I was when I was younger. Then I was stressed because I thought I was too busy.
True, at times things seem overwhelming, but I am thankful that God has given me the stamina and ability to handle the responsibilities I have and also be able to include the things I enjoy in my daily routine. For the most part I am still healthy, still interested in a lot of things, and have enough resources to not be dependent on someone else - yet. One of these days I may be that “old person” who needs safety equipment to alert others when I need help. For now - well, “That’s for some (other) old person.”
Thursday, March 15, 2012
THANKFUL FOR ONE OF THOSE IRRITATING BLESSINGS
There is nothing quite like being startled out of your early morning slumber by the sound of the smoke alarm going off - three shrill beeps. Don’t get me wrong; I”m thankful it works and alerted me to a possible danger. The problem is, I could find nothing that caused the alert.
I should not have been surprised because a couple of weeks ago during a thunderstorm, it did a little “beep”. I am convinced that was triggered by a lightening strike somewhere. That has happened in the past. It also does that when the filter for the furnace gets dirty, and I knew it was time to get the chair, climb up, and change that again. I must admit it has been a too long since I have done that task.
I got up, puttered around, and an hour later, the alarm went off again; this time it was a continual beeping. I finally climbed up in a chair and removed the battery.
Now - I must remember to get a new battery today when I’m at the store because this one was due to be replaced anyway. In the meantime I’ll keep a vigilant watch and smell going, thankful for the blessing of being irritated and somewhat protected by the shrill sound of the smoke and carbon monoxide alarm.
I should not have been surprised because a couple of weeks ago during a thunderstorm, it did a little “beep”. I am convinced that was triggered by a lightening strike somewhere. That has happened in the past. It also does that when the filter for the furnace gets dirty, and I knew it was time to get the chair, climb up, and change that again. I must admit it has been a too long since I have done that task.
I got up, puttered around, and an hour later, the alarm went off again; this time it was a continual beeping. I finally climbed up in a chair and removed the battery.
Now - I must remember to get a new battery today when I’m at the store because this one was due to be replaced anyway. In the meantime I’ll keep a vigilant watch and smell going, thankful for the blessing of being irritated and somewhat protected by the shrill sound of the smoke and carbon monoxide alarm.
Sunday, December 11, 2011
Sad, But Thankful - Is That Selfish?
For several days now I have been swinging back and forth from sadness for my friends and thankfulness for myself. Why? Because in the last six weeks, I have had four of my friends to lose their sons in terrible accidents. Two of these have left children behind. In one instance, both the son and daughter-in-law were killed, leaving a teenage son to be raised by a grandparent.
For the first one, I was sad, but thinking “I’m glad it’s not me.” For the second one, again “I’m glad it’s not me, and God is good to me.” Then I got the call about the third one. “God please be with her. Thank you, God, that it’s not me.” After receiving the news of the fourth one I was drained and almost afraid to be thanking God because I now knew how vulnerable we all are.
Each day - no, strike that - each hour - no, it has to be each minute, we are not promised the next. These young men had lived between 22 to 49 years. Yes, they had experienced many happy times and many sad times, but still by averages, they should have had many more years to experience happiness, sadness, joy, sorrow - just plain LIFE.
In each of these deaths, many people have been touched with just how quickly our lives can be changed. Many people surrounded these families during the funerals and later. It is obvious these individuals and their families have been a positive influence on others. They have been a witness of how God is there when we need Him. That is not saying they did not grieve, because they did and still do. However, through that grief they have been able to look beyond the sorrow and see God is in control and their tomorrows are in His Hands.
Each day that goes by now, I try to pray for these friends and their families and also remember to thank God for their strength and witness. I feel a little guilty thanking God that I’m not in their place, but I do pray that if I ever am that I will be able to be as strong a witness as they are.
For the first one, I was sad, but thinking “I’m glad it’s not me.” For the second one, again “I’m glad it’s not me, and God is good to me.” Then I got the call about the third one. “God please be with her. Thank you, God, that it’s not me.” After receiving the news of the fourth one I was drained and almost afraid to be thanking God because I now knew how vulnerable we all are.
Each day - no, strike that - each hour - no, it has to be each minute, we are not promised the next. These young men had lived between 22 to 49 years. Yes, they had experienced many happy times and many sad times, but still by averages, they should have had many more years to experience happiness, sadness, joy, sorrow - just plain LIFE.
In each of these deaths, many people have been touched with just how quickly our lives can be changed. Many people surrounded these families during the funerals and later. It is obvious these individuals and their families have been a positive influence on others. They have been a witness of how God is there when we need Him. That is not saying they did not grieve, because they did and still do. However, through that grief they have been able to look beyond the sorrow and see God is in control and their tomorrows are in His Hands.
Each day that goes by now, I try to pray for these friends and their families and also remember to thank God for their strength and witness. I feel a little guilty thanking God that I’m not in their place, but I do pray that if I ever am that I will be able to be as strong a witness as they are.
Thursday, September 15, 2011
MY PERSONAL MEMORIES OF 9/11
Like many other Americans, I have been remembering the few days before and after 9/11/01. I have decided I need to put them down in print so the future generations will understand what we talk about when it is mentioned.
June 22, 2001, I was installed as President of the CPW (now Cumberland Presbyterian Women’s Ministry) Convention. That position involved travel to the various Presbytery CPW meetings across the denomination - something different for me because I had only traveled with family up to that time.
My first scheduled Presbytery CPW meeting involved my first airplane flight. I arrived at the Barkley Regional Airport, Paducah, KY early in the morning of September 7 for the first leg of my flight. After arriving at the Memphis airport, I boarded a plane for Shreveport, LA, where my host for the weekend, Rosemary McGrill met me. I won’t go into the weekend events here; they are not relevant to this memory.
To digress a bit, on the flight from Paducah to Memphis, a group of women from Paducah was headed to New York City for a business conference was also on that flight. One of the women (a young woman) was visibly terrified. She was crying uncontrollably and gripping the back of the set in front of her. This was her first flight also. Finally, I turned to her and tried to comfort her by telling her we would be okay. (I was excited and a little anxious myself, but more excited because I was experiencing something new.) She asked me how many times I had flown; I said this was my first. She spit out “Well, you aren’t any comfort because you don’t know that for a fact!” The other ladies had to take charge of her at the Memphis airport; I wondered how they would get her on the next flight to New York City. (I later learned she made a call from New York City after the attack and had her husband drive up to get her and the other ladies because they could not get a flight back. I don't know if she has ever flown again or not.)
Back to my story. I repeated the flight in reverse on Sunday afternoon, September 9, 2001. I remember calling my granddaughter, Brittney, while I was waiting to board the Shreveport airport; it was her birthday. I got back to Paducah about 7:30 P.M. and drove home.
Fast forward to Tuesday morning, September 11, about 8:00 A.M. - only thirty-six and one-half hours later. I was dressing to go bowling; as usual, I had the Today Show on the TV. I saw the first image of the plane hitting the World Trade Center. I ran into the bedroom to make sure Russ was seeing it, too. We both had a hard time getting dressed that morning because we kept stopping in front of the TV. Before I left home, the second plane had hit. That just confirmed my suspicions that the first was not an accident, but intentional. By this time, all other segments of the news show were preempted. At the bowling alley, we would throw our ball and then return to the spot where we could watch the TV. It was there we heard the story of United Flight 93. It was a day that we did not care about our scores or who won or lost. We were focused on the fact our beloved nation had been attacked on our own soil.
The rest of that week is difficult to describe. In fact, most of it is a blur. I remember churches having prayer vigils; I remember TV stations constantly showing reporters around the nation, especially at what we now call Ground Zero, and normal programing nonexistent. I remember even the children’s networks were off the air for a while and children did not have the normalcy they needed. My own granddaughter, Danielle, who was a couple of weeks away from her 4th birthday, said to me “Memee is watching bad things on the TV and crying all the time.” VCR tapes were a blessing for parents and babysitters trying to keep the children occupied while we kept up with the latest news.
President Bush ordered all flights grounded, and fighter jets were the only planes allowed in the skies. Many gas stations ran out of gas, and the others raised their prices. Panic seemed to be the norm in business and society in general.
I had another Presbyterial CPW meeting scheduled on Saturday, September 15. This one was for Robert Donnell Presbytery in Huntsville, AL. Russ decided to take half a day off and drive me there. That was one of the most eerie drives I have ever experienced! We drove to Nashville on I-24 and then I-65 toward Huntsville. These are major arteries of our highway system. There were times we would not be able to see another vehicle for miles. Occasionally we would see a fighter jet overhead. We were able to get gas when we needed it, but made sure we did not get too close to empty (the usual way Russ normally did) before doing so. The return trip was similar.
I did not have another meeting to attend for a couple of weeks. By that time, things had eased as far as travel was concerned. However, even now, ten years later, we still are reminded of what did happen and can happen again when we board planes. Now we have a search of our luggage and personal scans we are subjected to.
Life has become stable again, but not the same way it was before that life changing morning on September 11, 2001. We Americans lost our complacency on that day; we Americans lost some of our innocence that day. We Americans learned that we would not be protected just because of whom we are.
It seemed the entire nation drew closer to God and their faith - but sadly only for a while. As memories of that fateful day have dimmed, many have returned to their former lifestyles. I truly hope and pray it does not take another incident such as September 11, 2001, to bring them back to God again.
The following is a quote I found when searching for an image to include here. I do not know the author’s name, but I echo the sentiment.
“The events of September 11, 2001 changed the world forever. May the victims rest in peace and may their families find peace and comfort.
I could have never imagined hijacked planes being used as missiles bringing down the Twin Towers killing innocent people, as I watched in disbelief this event unfold live on television.
I couldn't help, but think of the hatred and anger in people's hearts that cause them to carry out such heinous acts of terror and violence. On the other hand following the attacks, I was touched by the outpouring of love, from people from all walks of life, as they reached out to support one another in solidarity and unity.”
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
When A Frustration Turns Into A Blessing
Over the past few weeks, I have had several things that seemed to be a bad thing (frustration) that have turned out to be a good thing (blessing) for me.
1. While driving to church one night, I could not get the cruise control on the van to hold the speed. This went on for more than 24 hours. I finally took it to the dealer - still trying unsuccessfully to set the speed all the way there. The technician took it for three test drives and the cruise control worked perfectly each time. The good part here is there had been a recall on the air bags, and I was unaware of it. This was corrected and therefore I was not charged for my appointment. I was happy to have this done just a few days before leaving on a trip. Blessing!
2. The hot water was only warm. I called the plumber that installed this new heater. This was not the first return visit for them. In fact, it was the fourth. The one just prior to this was because the floor was staying damp under this heater; the servicemen could not find the cause and since it was only staying damp, and not an apparent leak, they left without charging me. This time, they noticed there was not a cover on the vent pipe and determined a strong wind had gone down the vent pipe and blew the pilot light out. They went to the store and purchased a vent cap and also a shield for the bottom of the pipe because neither of those was on the pipe. They lit the pilot light, installed the vent cap and shield and went on their way. Result - no more damp floor and I have hot water. Blessing!
3. I got an advertisement in the mail from the same cell phone carrier I use. One of the items listed in order to tempt users to upgrade their phones were free services I did not have. I called and asked about them for the present customers. Turned out the services I had were being upgraded and I was upgraded to these services at no initial fee or additional monthly charge. Blessing!
4. My home phone/internet bill arrived with a higher balance than normal. Upon checking, I found that I had been charged for their long distance calling, which I had declined many years ago and have never had a need for. I called to see why this was charged and requested this be deleted from the current bill. The customer service representative checked and agreed I should not be charged for that, but also noticed I was paying a higher fee for my regular service than I should be due to a reduction on their part. She suggested I authorize a change in this, which would lower that charge more than 50% and also would give me more features than I presently have. After making sure I would not be losing any services I already have and that the bill would be lower, I agreed to this change. Blessing!
(I must add that I am still waiting to see if what she told me is correct. Guess I’m just a tad bit skeptical.)
UPDATE (August 3) - Things were not the same because I lost all long distance calling, included in the same county. I now have Nationwide Unlimited Calling and I have been promised the monthly charge will still be lower. We will see!!
FURTHER UPDATE (August 26) - Have received the first bill since the change. It is indeed less - about $30.00. Maybe I can start taking customer service people at their words - well, I'll try to be a little more trusting!
1. While driving to church one night, I could not get the cruise control on the van to hold the speed. This went on for more than 24 hours. I finally took it to the dealer - still trying unsuccessfully to set the speed all the way there. The technician took it for three test drives and the cruise control worked perfectly each time. The good part here is there had been a recall on the air bags, and I was unaware of it. This was corrected and therefore I was not charged for my appointment. I was happy to have this done just a few days before leaving on a trip. Blessing!
2. The hot water was only warm. I called the plumber that installed this new heater. This was not the first return visit for them. In fact, it was the fourth. The one just prior to this was because the floor was staying damp under this heater; the servicemen could not find the cause and since it was only staying damp, and not an apparent leak, they left without charging me. This time, they noticed there was not a cover on the vent pipe and determined a strong wind had gone down the vent pipe and blew the pilot light out. They went to the store and purchased a vent cap and also a shield for the bottom of the pipe because neither of those was on the pipe. They lit the pilot light, installed the vent cap and shield and went on their way. Result - no more damp floor and I have hot water. Blessing!
3. I got an advertisement in the mail from the same cell phone carrier I use. One of the items listed in order to tempt users to upgrade their phones were free services I did not have. I called and asked about them for the present customers. Turned out the services I had were being upgraded and I was upgraded to these services at no initial fee or additional monthly charge. Blessing!
4. My home phone/internet bill arrived with a higher balance than normal. Upon checking, I found that I had been charged for their long distance calling, which I had declined many years ago and have never had a need for. I called to see why this was charged and requested this be deleted from the current bill. The customer service representative checked and agreed I should not be charged for that, but also noticed I was paying a higher fee for my regular service than I should be due to a reduction on their part. She suggested I authorize a change in this, which would lower that charge more than 50% and also would give me more features than I presently have. After making sure I would not be losing any services I already have and that the bill would be lower, I agreed to this change. Blessing!
(I must add that I am still waiting to see if what she told me is correct. Guess I’m just a tad bit skeptical.)
UPDATE (August 3) - Things were not the same because I lost all long distance calling, included in the same county. I now have Nationwide Unlimited Calling and I have been promised the monthly charge will still be lower. We will see!!
FURTHER UPDATE (August 26) - Have received the first bill since the change. It is indeed less - about $30.00. Maybe I can start taking customer service people at their words - well, I'll try to be a little more trusting!
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
I wish I had known back then . . .
It’s that time of year when school reunions are being held. That leads to alumni “creeping” Facebook pictures to remind ourselves of our classmates and the good times.
A couple of years ago I uploaded pictures of my childhood. Among them were a couple of group pictures of school classes and Vacation Bible Schools.
Over the last few days, people have been commenting on those pictures and naming some of the children. That has lead to comments to each other.
One of the comments I received today was something I would have appreciated knowing when I was a child/teenager. I won’t share that comment here, but I definitely did not know anyone had ever thought that way about me!
I did not have any feeling of worth or self-confidence - or very little. I don’t think it was anyone’s fault; I doubt they knew I felt that way because I rarely talked about myself. But I felt invisible. I now realize there was no need to feel that way, but I did. I guess because of that I have tried very hard to instill positive attitudes in my own children and grandchildren. I am very proud of the way they are taking the world by the tail and accomplishing something worthwhile with their lives. I’m sorry to say I don’t tell them enough. I hope to change that. (To my family - if you are reading this, please know how much I love you and admire you!)
Back when I was young, females did not have many options. I only aspired to work as a secretary until I got married and had children, and that’s exactly what I did. The other choices were teacher or nurse.
My daughter has a very good work ethic and has made a name for herself in the public arena of politics, along with bringing up two daughters and a son. Her husband is very supportive of her endeavors. I admire him, too.
My son also has a good work ethic and has “climbed the ladder,” succeeding in his chosen field and has guided two girls into womanhood. He is a very responsible person (although I often wondered in his youth whether he would be or not. LOL)
So, my advice today is tell people, especially young people, how much you admire them, even if it is only the fact that they are in your life. There’s got to be something about them you admire. TELL THEM!
Until next time . . .
A couple of years ago I uploaded pictures of my childhood. Among them were a couple of group pictures of school classes and Vacation Bible Schools.
Over the last few days, people have been commenting on those pictures and naming some of the children. That has lead to comments to each other.
One of the comments I received today was something I would have appreciated knowing when I was a child/teenager. I won’t share that comment here, but I definitely did not know anyone had ever thought that way about me!
I did not have any feeling of worth or self-confidence - or very little. I don’t think it was anyone’s fault; I doubt they knew I felt that way because I rarely talked about myself. But I felt invisible. I now realize there was no need to feel that way, but I did. I guess because of that I have tried very hard to instill positive attitudes in my own children and grandchildren. I am very proud of the way they are taking the world by the tail and accomplishing something worthwhile with their lives. I’m sorry to say I don’t tell them enough. I hope to change that. (To my family - if you are reading this, please know how much I love you and admire you!)
Back when I was young, females did not have many options. I only aspired to work as a secretary until I got married and had children, and that’s exactly what I did. The other choices were teacher or nurse.
My daughter has a very good work ethic and has made a name for herself in the public arena of politics, along with bringing up two daughters and a son. Her husband is very supportive of her endeavors. I admire him, too.
My son also has a good work ethic and has “climbed the ladder,” succeeding in his chosen field and has guided two girls into womanhood. He is a very responsible person (although I often wondered in his youth whether he would be or not. LOL)
So, my advice today is tell people, especially young people, how much you admire them, even if it is only the fact that they are in your life. There’s got to be something about them you admire. TELL THEM!
Until next time . . .
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