Just another day in the Northern Neck for me...

1st - my husband's birthname is Calvin but we have always called him Skip.  No idea why, it just is what it is.

2nd - the only reason I mention the race of the below individuals is because it will explain my faux pax to a point.

3rd - I try hard.  I really do.

Monday a Hispanic man came in from company A to pick up his order and I said "Hey Salvador"!  He said "I'm not Salvador, I'm Julian."  So I asked him who was Salvador; and he said a guy that works for company B.  Tuesday a black man comes in from company B and I said "Hey Salvador!".  He said "I aint Salvado".  So I said "who the heck is Salvador then anyway?!!"   He said some Mexican that works for us.  I asked him his name and he said "Calvin".  I said great, no way I'll forget your name, it's the same as my husband's.  I'm off on Wednesdays so on Thursday when he came in for his order, I smiled really big and said "Hey Skip! How ya doing?"  He looked at me weird (weirder than on Tuesday when I called him Salvador) and said "Who?".  I said "Skip".  He asked who Skip was and I said stop teasing me,  I know your name is Skip - it's the same as my husband's.  He shook his head and said "no, my name is Calvin."  Friday Calvin came in and .....just kidding, I finally got it right, along with a big "ole smile from him.  I still don't know who the heck Salvador is but I must tell you that Jose and Ubaldo get a kick out of never knowing what's coming out of my mouth!  They are teaching me Spanish and I have an auditory issue.....  hmm... I think that will be a blog for another day!!

And that my friends, is another day in the Live with Cheryl on the Northern Neck : )

Goose Honks, Anxiety and me…o

I wanted to title this blog:  Way to condition the nose hairs.  But then I decided I didn’t really want to post that title for the world to see; only my dear friends that miss my every day antics and the Northern Neck peoples that haven’t gotten (ew.. stinky English but I’m tired) to see that side of me yet.  

This is a day in the Life of Cheryl. 

First, I didn’t fall asleep until after 4:30 a.m. when DH arose to go hunting.  In preparation for his trip to go bird hunting, he serenaded me all night with what Katy has named:  the goose honk.  It is much worse than regular snoring; trust me on this one.  Then I had to get up early to go to the doctors.  Well early for me when I haven’t slept.  This is a good doctor but you must allow several hours for your appointment as he takes his time with his patients.  And I mean he takes his time; trust me on this one too – but hey, this is the Northern Neck and they have a whole definition of time.  It’s called a northern neck minute and it can be a long minute; kinda like when you tell your kids to wait a minute…. 

A short review of my doctor’s appointment is (and I only break doctor/patient confidentially b/c it’s part of my day today):  He prescribed medicine to temporarily slow my pulse down b/c when it’s fast, it creates anxiety which creates higher pressure… well you get the picture.  I’m not a germaphobe; technically, but probably close.  As the doctor is leaving I ask if he has something that will help heal the cracked skin on my thumb.  He examined it, closely, and then said (didn't ask, just stated):  you wash your hands a lot with soap.  I agreed.  He then told me to just “wash” them with water.  Soap and those alcohol hand sanitizers strip the oils from your hands.  So, to review my appointment, I was prescribed medicine to lessen my anxieties and then told to not use soap, like that won’t create anxiety for me!  I used the restroom before I left.  I looked at the sink, the soap, and the paper towels and carefully recalled the doctor’s words.  And….  haha gotcha!   I washed my hands; I’ll deal with the cracked skin. 

Before dinner Katy and I were going for our daily walk.  We decided to take the dog.  No words are necessary; after all, a picture is worth a thousand words.

Now finally, on to the incident that pushed me to write this little tale.  I was taking my shower (yeah, I ignored the doctor again and used more soap) and only wanted to condition the ends of my hair.  Since I just bought one of those fancy 2 shower heads one of which has a long flexible hose, I bent over to rinse the ends.   But apparently I didn’t aim right and the water and conditioner ran right up my nose.  And that my friends, is a day in the Life of Cheryl! 

Prayer Shawls, God's Will and one stubborn Cheryl

Tonight the Lord was truly on the second floor of the Material Girl Quilt Shop in Reedville VA!  I have thought for the past 18 months that God had decided to move me (a little unwillingly I might add) to The Northern Neck of Virginia to help start a "crisis" pregnancy center to give girls and women who find themselves with an unwanted pregnancy a place to go for help.  However, after 3 hours tonight on the second floor of the Material Girl Quilt Shop I have to wonder if that pregnancy center was really my will and just maybe not God's.  Tonight was the first meeting of a new group (we forgot to name ourselves) of ladies who love to quilt and eat.  There were 7 of us tonight; from Episcopalians, to Baptists, to Methodists, to even someone that doesn't attend church right now, but all alike in our desire to quilt prayer shawls for hurting people.  We are an ecumenical group of ladies (from 18 to ah shucks, somethings are just not necessary to reveal) brought together by God's hand in His timing.  We prayed, we talked, we laughed, we ate and at next month's meeting we plan to even sew! Afterall, that was the whole point of getting together tonight - to sew prayer shawls.  We just didn't realize how many things had to be ironed out first - haha get it - ironed out? Ok, so I'm a little punch happy after a very long hot day! 


About 5 years ago, just by chance (haha we all know it really wasn't chance!!) I was substituting in an office of the Gettysburg High School and there was a lady who was crocheting a prayer shawl during her lunch break.  I was intrigued and immediately a sweet church member that was dying of cancer came to my mind.  Off to the store that night for yarn, I began my journey with prayer shawls.  Two weeks later, I delivered it to their house only days before she died; her family was so touched by the prayers and I was hooked on making prayer shawls.   It gives me a way of touching people when I don't have the words to.  Months later we had changed churches but again, a dear lady received a cancer diagnosis.  You know the lady at church that knows everyone and everything going on?   That was Ginny. Once again, I was deeply moved by how touched someone was from simply 3 skeins of yarn bound together with prayers for their recovery.  It seems like such a small thing.  I learned a very valuable lesson that next week.  Never mention an idea to the pastor if you don't want to do it!  Well 2 and a half years, 100 shawls later, when I was called to move 4 hours away, I had to leave behind a wonderful group of  energetic, talented ladies that had knitted, crocheted, and woven many many prayers into beautiful treasures for hurting, sick, and grieving people. 


Fast forward to my first year on "The Neck".  I was so sure of God's will for me that I have kept ignoring what I now think has been His will all along.   Prayer shawls, prayer shawls and more prayer shawls.   Over the past year, I supplied our pastor with a few prayer shawls anonymously.  Well, one of the first things to learn in a small community where everyone is either related to, married in to the family or friends with them is that nothing is anonymous!  Still sure that I was not supposed to start another prayer shawl ministry, I have kept plugging along trying to figure out how to get this other thing going.  At my church, there are already 2 ladies (plus me)  making prayer shawls and yet I have still been sure that I wasn't supposed to do prayer shawls, because there was this other ministry that God wanted me to start!


Fast forward once again to a "chance" day at the quilt shop when everything fell into place at once to line up this meeting tonight where 7 woman gathered and prayed, and talked, and laughed, and ate, and planned together to do God's will.  


And tonight I felt close to God; more so then any day since I moved here.  Funny how that happens when you stop running from Him!

Technology. Me. Sigh…

 Heck, skip the sigh; and come laugh with me...

Since I don’t really have any neighbors within hollering distance; haven’t made many friends yet; my daughter went and grew up and now works for a living; and my DH is having a little trouble with hearing, I find myself frequently carrying on conversations in my head.  I didn’t really think it was a problem because no one could actually prove it was happening.  This past week I thought I really needed to get busy and write some blogs; my friends are putting me to shame with all their blogging.  So as DH and I spent last week cutting up dead trees and stacking the firewood, I wrote several fantastic funny blogs.  Then the next several days I spent wondering, why I hadn’t heard from my friends about these great inspirational blogs I had written.  Even kind of pouted and and threw a pity party for myself.  Then it hit me; yep, had written them in my head and promptly forgotten about actually putting the words to paper and posting them.   So after a great laugh, I began thinking about some of my techno bloopers and realized they happen on a regular basis - kind of another aspect of "Life with Cheryl"!  Maybe you even have caught yourself with some of these. 

            Listening to the radio and when you miss what someone said you reach toward it to hit the rewind button? ….  Although if you don’t have DVR on your TV you won’t understand this…).

            Watching a show and when the commercial comes on get frustrated with the clicker because it won’t fast forward and then you realize it’s live TV and not recorded.  If you haven’t done that you must not have the DVR option!

            Take the time to write a newsy email to a friend and get a little irritated when you don’t hear back from them only to log in to your email account several days later  and notice:  drafts (1).  To make it worse, I think, hmm why do I have a draft….?       

            Put a delicious dinner on the table one night and find the gravy in the microwave when you go to make your oatmeal the next morning?

            Had my car keys in my pocketbook and while trying to dig them out managed to push the “alarm” button while groping around so the alarm screeches while you’re in a panic still trying to pull them out of your pocketbook?

Was so proud of myself when I figured out how to make my friends ringtone the snappy tune from Mama Mia, only to realize during the pastor’s benediction on a Sunday morning that I hadn’t remembered to turn my phone off that was in my purse under the pew…

Wondering why no one commented on some of my really funny FB status' and just figured out the other day I somehow had set ALL my status updates to only be published to 3 particular people.  Even worse, I can't imagine what I would have originally posted (or how long ago I did it) that I only wanted those 3 particular people to see...

Some things are funny now but weren’t at the time.  Take for instance the time I was backing into our driveway, looking in the little side mirror and doing a superb job of backing up straight.  Quite impressed with myself I was, since the neighbors were all outside and could witness my fantastic backing up skills (this was in PA where I had neighbors within hollering distance…).  I should mention 3 important things to this tale :  I have dyslexia so things frequently are reversed in my mind; DH had a big van; and I had those nice little back-up sensors remember?  Then B A N G: I was confused; the neighbors were all gawking; those dang new high-tech sensors were apparently broken; and oh dear, dear hubby’s van was in my space not his. $1500 dollars later, I still maintain it was not my fault he was in the wrong parking position, but I also no longer rely on that one little piece of snappy technology.

And today I was at a proper English Tea at our local library.  It was nice – delectable goodies, tasty tea, a harpist playing away.  Suddenly one of the ladies at our table kept asking us if anyone else was feeling the vibrations.  One by one they were all feeling it and I even joked about more aftershocks.  One lady across the table kept moving her hand around and all of a sudden said:  Here, it’s coming from here.  Here happened to be right in front of me.  In my cute little black (borrowed from my sweet daughter) clutch.  Yes I had silenced my ringer but didn’t give a thought to just how loud the “vibrate only” option would be.

And tonight takes the cake – I was talking to a friend while driving home and all of a sudden she kept saying can you hear me?  Are you there?  I kept telling her I could hear everything she was saying and I could hear her tell her daughter she must have lost me.  I kept hollering I can hear you; I’m not in a dead zone; you didn’t lose me – why can I hear you and you can’t hear me.  Looked down at my phone (in confusion) and learned I have a “mute” button that works real well when pressed against your cheek.

I know there are many other adventures and knowing me I’m sure there will be many more to come but for tonight I bid you Adieu! 



p.s.  If you see some words highlighted in yellow just ignore the pretty perky color  - I hit spellcheck but now can't figure out how to ignore their suggestions......  I rest my case!!!

Optimistic Worrier?

Words of wisdom from 2 long ago friends and one current husband keep coming to my mind lately.    The first is:  When the pain exceeds the pleasure, I’ll leave.  The second is:  Satan can’t steal your joy if you don’t let him.   And from my husband?  We worked together for years before becoming husband and wife and we both love to laugh and tease.  Consequently there were a lot of office jokes played on each other. I had a Peanuts comic strip on the wall of my cubicle.   I don’t remember the whole strip just the {new}funny ending.  Basically Charlie Brown was lying in bed contemplating something while looking up to the heavens and said “Why me Lord?”  One day I noticed some blue ink and upon looking closer, noticed someone had drawn in another of those “clouds” and written in it “Because you tick me off Cheryl”.  Yeah, I married him anyway. I mean how can you resist spending your life with someone that just gets you!…J

Because these first 2 thoughts keep coming to mind, I am going to go out on a limb here and assume that God is once again trying to reach through my ears that I have closed to teach me a lesson I probably don’t want to learn.  Or remind me of lessons I have learned the hard way once before.  I am Joyce Meyer’s poster child for her “just how many times do you want to go around that mountain”…. 

Many years ago my best friend Chuck was a fun, caring, supportive, always there for me kinda cute guy.  The only problem we had was that he wanted to date me but I didn’t want to date him.  One time he even vowed to be there for me every day for 6 months (188 days) while my boyfriend was on a Navy deployment half way around the world.  He said I wouldn’t make it on my own, so he would be there for me.  I didn’t think that was fair to him but he said, and here come those awesome words of wisdom, are ya ready?  “When the pain exceeds the pleasure, I will let you know.”  I never really understood those words until tonight.  I just really, really appreciated that he was there for me, all 188 days and more.  Eventually the pain exceeded the pleasure for him, and he went in search of a nice young lady that he then married.  I was even one of her bridesmaids b/c back then you just didn’t have a girl be your bestman!   

Fast forward about 15 years and I had another best friend and her words of wisdom (to me frequently) were “Don’t let Satan steal your joy” or put another way “Satan can’t steal your joy unless you let him”.  This one was easier for me to understand yet very difficult for me to live. 

You see, I am an optimistic worrier.  I know, that’s kind of an oxymoron.  Well not sure if it’s really a true oxymoron but I love that word and felt like using it.  No one else in my family were worriers, so I’m not sure how I became one.  But like any other job I have undertaken, I, as a perfectionist (reformed perfectionist as my family can attest to now!) worry to perfection.   Once in my 20’s during a counseling session, my pastor told me that I worry so well that if I have nothing to worry about, I worry about that.   I wish I could say worried but I can’t - I still do a pretty good job of worrying. 

I didn’t understand Chuck’s words back then because the optimist in me always thinks everything will work out if you just work hard enough, pray hard enough, beg hard enough, aw, you get the picture.  I love happy-ever-after-endings and would always try to get them no matter what the cost to me.  So, I stayed in a marriage way longer than was healthy for me, chased after love from friends and family members way longer than was smart for me and compromised God’s directions for me too many times in order to keep the “peace”.

The beginning of this month God began clarifying some things for me.  He reminded me of words from a sermon : are you a peace keeper or a peace maker?  Because there is a big difference.  Jesus was a peace maker; I on the other hand have been a peace keeper.  I have wondered all of my Christian years (and I’ve been one for as long as I can remember) what my spiritual gifts are.  Last year 3 very dear close friends decided to enlighten me.  We had met once a week for years in a group Bible study and then the four of us (commonly referred to as the FAB 4) branched out and met every Wednesday for 2 hours of Bible study, encouraging each other, prayer and of course eating something yummy.  I guess since we had broken bread together for so long, they felt entitled to clear up my dilemma of being 51 and not knowing my Spiritual Gifts.  One session I was lamenting the fact that I had said something nicely and gently to someone and meant no harm but now they weren’t speaking to me and I was confused.  After all we were both Christians and I was sure God wanted me to say what I said because I surely did NOT want to say it on my own…   Cynthia looked straight at me and said it was simple.  You have the gift of exhortation and people don’t like to hear what you need to say.  I didn’t like it.  I asked if I could give it back or at least exchange it.  I mean it doesn’t even sound nice.  I wanted one of those really nice ones like “Healing”, “Helps”, or even “Mercy”.  You know the kind that when someone who has the gift of mercy dies, everyone gushes about all the mercy she gave them.  I mean really, have you ever heard someone say:  “That dear Mrs. Smith, she was just the best exhortater, she really knew how to tell us stuff we really didn’t want to hear…”  That’s what I thought; I haven’t ever heard anyone gush about an exhortater either.   So I just continued to pretend that my FAB4 friends didn’t know what they were talking about.  Well until several weeks ago that was easy to do.  In a church Bible study of how to be a “Joy”ful” Woman, the leader gave us some homework – a little booklet that after you answer a gazillon questions, tells you what your Spiritual Gifts are.  And guess what?  You probably won’t believe this.  But my friends were right.  #1 was Exhortation.  #2 was Prophecy.  And #3 was Giving.  Ain’t that just something.  Now it’s confimed.  I can see in the future (prophecy) that I am going to tick you off by telling you something you’d rather not hear about (Exhortation) but because I am an optimistic worrier, I’ll throw in my #3 gift and give you something beautiful that I have made while I prayed for you to not be ticked off at me for saying something I would rather have not said in the first place.

This has been a common thread in my tapestry of life and now I must decide if I want to remain a “peace keeper” or step out with God and become a “peace maker.”  I just wish if He had to give me these gifts, that he would also have made me a {oops, can’t think of the word that would encompass an oxymoron of optimistic worrier} so that I wouldn’t so often let someone steal my JOY when I have only been following God’s direction in delivering that message.  If you are still reading, I guess you are looking for a closing to this long diatribe (it’s not really a diatribe but again I can’t think of another word.  Where is my friend that loves words, when I need her!!.)  but I’m not sure what it is because I think better out loud and I haven’t finished processing all of these thoughts.  I will say that since I am no longer a perfectionist, I am not going to stay up tonight and spell check, grammar check, sanity check my ramblings, or figure out if exhortater is even a real word.   

I have been allowing someone to steal my joy lately and now as I weigh some of the different paths ahead, I hope I can remember Chuck’s wise words and realize that when the pain exceeds the pleasure, it’s OK to leave.  That every situation doesn’t call for us to turn the cheek 7 times 77 times.   That keeping the peace, is usually not something peaceful – remember Jesus in the temple overturning tables?  And most of all, that as long as I am walking with God, everything will be OK.   Now if I can only remember these words when I wake up tomorrow morning and climb out of my cozy bed….    

Marriage Counseling should teach...

you how to deal with the real issues of living with another person.   With the divorce rate steadily increasing, standard marriage counseling just doesn't seem to be working.  I realized that perhaps they are counseling us on the wrong issues.  They talk to the couple to advise them on how to nicely work through the major issues (according to them) of marriage such as where to eat holiday dinners, how you will spend your monies, how many children to have and when to start having them, etc.  But if you think about it, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Easter dinners come but once a year; children either arrive or they don't; and you either spend your money or save it. Period.  Now the day to day living, that's another thing.


Take for instance, do you like the shades up? or the shades down?  

Or possibly a little of both?

Both of these are varieties that my husband randomly uses; I myself prefer both shades up so I come along behind him and open them all the way.  This is a daily occurance in the Harding household!

Or if you have mini blinds:  do you open  them straight, slanted up, slanted down, or raise them?  (that's 4 choices for your window treatments.  With 365 days a year to contend with this issue, it is obviously much more important than 3 yearly holiday dinners)

Again, I prefer my blinds both up or at least both opened.  I like a lot of light and could give a hoot if someone decides they want to look in and see me in whatever attire I happen to be in doing whatever it is that I do all day long.   Therefore the blinds are opened twice every day in the Harding household - I wait until he is settled in his easy chair watching the morning show and then I go around the house and REALLY open all  the shades and blinds.


Do you squeeze the toothpaste from the bottom? the top? or the middle?  That is 3 choices x 3 times a day  x 2 of you x 365 days EVERY year - obviously the shear numbers of this make it much more important then whether you spend a few dollars on Starbucks coffee everyday when he prefers to save money).

I was horrified after he borrowed my toothpaste
and returned this mangled thing.  

                                                                                   

Yep, this is how my tube looks (all the way to the end of it) when only I use it.
Then I cut the bottom off to access the rest but alas that is a story for another day!!

 Do you like the toilet paper to roll from the top or the bottom?  (Not even gonna guess how many times a day this could annoy you)  Actually I'm just glad when he remembers to put a new roll out!!  Do you want the toilet lid/seat up or do you prefer it down at all times?  We have a double sink in the kitchen.  To me that means a clean sink (on the right) and a dirty sink (on the left).  When I wash a few items I place them in the clean sink to air dry while other dirty dishes go in the left sink.  My husband just sees 2 sinks....need I say any more?  But these are not the things you discuss in marriage counseling so we dig our heels in and let them know that our way is the right way and they need to change.  Instead of drying the few clean dishes and putting them away before he puts dirty ones on top of them, I  have to let him know that he messed up my clean dishes.  These every day, all day long, little nuisances that drive us crazy are so soon what we define our marriages by.  How do we learn to live in peace and harmony with our soul mates you ask?  It is a trick that I don't profess to have conquered yet; but I 'm trying.  I thank God for him when I am correcting or fixing what annoys me.  So when I'm opening the blinds, I thank God he got up before me to let the dog out; when I pick up the wet bath mat, I thank God he likes to be clean; when he asks to borrow my toothpaste, I thank God he still has his teeth and a cute smile and I give him his very own tube that I have stashed away, and when he puts the dirty dishes in the sink, I ... . shoot, I just said I haven't conquered all these annoying things yet!!  

A Lifetime of Wishing....and the Four F's.

I have spent a lifetime of wishing.  Wishing we didn't move every time I finally made a friend (every 3 years almost to the month).  Wishing my brothers and father didn't pick on me until I cried.  Wishing I didn't "think and process" things so differently from everyone else.  Wishing if I was just perfect, then everything would be OK.   Heck, that was all before middle school even hit!  Wishing my nose was like my brother's - the girls I thought were my friends told me (in the halls of high school, a little too bit too loudly) if I had his nose on my face, I'd be pretty.  When he wasn't interested in them, I found they weren't really my friends, but the message had stuck.  Wishing I made better choices with boyfriends. Wishing I had not made that painful decision at 19.  Wishing I had made a better choice for a husband, the father of my children.  Wishing I was more organized.  Wishing I could just "fit" into a group, any group, just once.  Wishing I had a bigger family.  Wishing I could have stay married to my 1st husband because he did have a big family - loads of aunts, uncles, cousins (they were Italian – what do you expect!).  Wishing that divorces never have to happen.  Wishing people didn't hate me "just because..." Wishing that learning disabilities didn't have to be passed on to the next generation.  Wishing the affects of emotional or physical abuse didn't have generations of affect.  Wishing I had gone to college.  Wishing that I wasn't so stubborn.  And most of all, wishing I had more...  More money, more house, more friends, more - well you get the picture.

Today I had a meltdown and as I call it, a God slap.  You know them.  He taps you, He nudges you, He whispers to you and you ignore it, until one day - BAM, right across your very soul - it happens; it hurts; you get it.  You get what He has been saying.  What He so patiently has been trying to get you to see, or learn, or do.   This week I was making the food for the Teacher's Appreciation Room and, boy, were they appreciative.  So the ego was swelling, the "I've got to top last night" was flowing, and my arm was breaking from the back patting I was doing.  And then right there, in my kitchen, it happened.   In the middle of the oven filling the house with smoke, the pasta boiling over on the stove, me realizing I was not going to be able to make the treats I had planned - 2 words in HUGE black & white letters in front of my face - SELF WORTH.  You see, I had been taking some pictures of the cooking messes for a blog and thought "Oh, I don't want to post pictures of my small kitchen, without granite countertops, or solid wood cabinets, or porcelain sink or upscale appliances or ceramic tiles, ...  Because what only a few know (because it would be just too embarrassing to voice out loud), is how inadequate "circumstances and things" make me feel.  In other words, where my self-worth gets all mixed up.

God has been patiently trying to get me to learn my worth in His eyes.  That He created me just the way He wanted and for the purposes He needed me to fulfill.    So remember the "wishing I wasn't so stubborn" comment above?  This is where that comes in.  I have been in and out of my "Job" mode for years.  I have identified with Job, lamented with him, cried with him, and found peace through his ordeals.  Each painful time, thinking I had learned my lesson.  But I hadn't.  God has spent years slowly peeling my layers of dependence on family, friends, and monies away.  Yet each time He lovingly gives me a chance to heal and hopefully have learned.  I haven't.  First the nice house went and we had to downsize when we moved to PA and then again to VA.  God did bless us with a nicer, albeit smaller house in VA, but could I be satisfied?  No.  Family that speaks to me? - down to Skip, Katy and my Dad.  (About 3 years ago He did bless me with a new mom and along with her came a sister I never had, a great brother-in-law and a just perfect niece)  Blew that learning experience too and now I'm 4 hours from the sister and family and over a 1000 miles from my Dad.  Finances?  Every time we get a nice nest egg, you got it, something major happens.   Friends?  Yep, over 4 hours from the first really good friends that I have had in many many years.   So, here I am, in rural Virginia with no neighbors (within hollering distance), no real shopping places (except Walmart & Food Lion – both places I was boycotting at different points), no real entertainment (except Friday nights at the Ruritan Lot in Callao for the church softball game!) and no boat (you can only enjoy all this water if you have a boat, have a friend with a boat, live on one of the rivers, have friends that live on a river, or – well, you get the picture).  God has me pinned and no where to turn but up.

But what I do have is Faith - and a giant helping of it too.  Faith in an awesome God that loves me and only wants the best for me.  Faith in Jesus, a man that thought I was worthy enough to hang on a cross and die for.  Faith in Grace, the grace God gives me even though I don’t deserve it.  Faith in the knowledge that as long as Jesus is personal to me, I will spend eternity in a place that nothing, nowhere, or no one on earth could ever even come close to.  And Faith in His peace, a peace that passes all human understanding.
 
I will cling to Job’s story – 42 chapters later, we learn that he was given much money, a gold ring, 14,000 sheep, 6,000 camels, 2000 cattle, 1,000 donkeys, fathered 7 sons, 3 daughters, lived 140 years after his trial, and long enough to see his grandchildren and great-grandchildren.  Personally I could skip the animals.  Second thought, I do love to hear a donkey bray, just not so keen on a thousand of them!  Well I don’t want to complain or tell the Lord his business, but I wouldn’t be so thrilled about 10 more pregnancies in my 50’s either!!

I said “I get it” but I am far from understanding it, personalizing it, and living it.  I covet all your prayers in this new leg of my journey.   I really want to get it this time.  I am down to the bare bones of family, friends, finances and possessions and don’t care to have any more layers peeled.   So I will cling to the end of Job’s story and all his blessings.  I will work hard on changing my mantra from “wishing and hoping” to more “trusting and obeying”.  God bless each of you that have been on, are now on, or will be joining me on another path towards my journey Home!!!   

If wishes were horses, beggars would be riders

words of wisdom from one of my soul-mates  - love ya Lisa!