Incholm Abbey

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The inscription says: 'May this house stand until an ant drains the flowing sea, and a tortoise walks around the whole world.'

There, but for the grace of God, go I

She was shopping when I first entered the variety store, wending her way through the aisles and racks. I couldn't see her when I first came in for her small frame did not allow me to see her above the display of Halloween candy, but I could certainly hear her.

She seemed to be carrying a conversation with someone, both voices seemed to be speaking to each other in low tones so the topic was inaudible. She peeked around the island of Spongebob Squarepants candy canes as I strolled by with my cart and smiled. Her cheeks were tinted with blush carefully placed on them in precise circles and her lips were a matching hue of red. Great hooped earrings peeked out of the freshly primped hairdo that hung past her shoulders and on top her head sat a cap that looked like one that a rap band had given her and she even wore it with the bill turned 3/4 of the way around. Her smile was one of pleasure, but she seemed to be missing more than just a few teeth and the ones she did have seemed to be in various stages of decay. She seemed to me to be a present-day 'Dirty Sally'. (For those who used to watch the series "Gunsmoke" you will understand my term.)

I could not help myself, I would not help myself even if I could have; I smiled back.

"Yep, they've sure got some neat stuff in this store. Lookie here, even got spongebob Squarepants candycanes." She said and then gave a little giggle/cackle. I acknowledged her comment and said that I thought they had neat stuff too.

She seemed to distract me all the way through the store even if I were at the back and she at the front. Her cart heaping with everything from jackets to clocks and cans of gensing tea. I proceeded to search out the few things I had come in for, some cat food, a few cleaners, something for the football boys at school...all the while, I was thinking about this lady.

She seemed to me to be about my age and she must have had a myriad of mental disorders. My heart leapt out to her because I could see the look on the clerk's face as she started to unload her cart. "She is someone's daughter," my heart said, "Someone has had a million hopes that her life would be grand." From the back of the store I peeked toward the front. She was still unloading things.

There was only one line open when I got to the front of the store. She was still in the process of checking out and there were 3 other people in line before me. The all stood nearly 15 feet from this woman as if she had something highly contagious. Soon, the next check out stand was opened up because the line was backing up in hers. Everyone left her line but me. There was country music playing in the background and she nodded her head deeply as it played and made faces to the emotions of the song.

I patiently smiled as the clerk rang up her things. The bill was 182.00 and she'd only brought 150.00 with her. I could see the process was becoming common place with her and the clerks. The clerk on duty got her supervisor to come and tell her that she'd over spent and that she needed to put some things back. Slowly, she went through her cart, finding things she thought she could do without. A pack of 10 colors of nail polish, a few cans of tea, a dog bone...the list continued.

When she'd gotten her purchases down to under 150.00 she thanked the clerk who never smiled or said anything to her at all and went out the door with her cherished purchases.

I continued to smile even though the people behind the counter were not happy, and placed my things upon the counter.
"Well, that was excruciating!" the Supervisor said with a peeved look on her face.
I said, "That's ok, I don't mind that much...I kind of feel sorry for her." I said.

"Well you might, but she does this about 3 times a week!" the lady behind the counter announced. "It wouldn't be so bad if she would just put back the things she didn't need and keep the things she did. Last week she put back the soap and deodorant just so she could keep the lacy panties! Like she's ever going to NEED lacy panties!" She exclaimed in exhasperation.

I cringed inwardly. I could see that she was just like the rest of the world and that this tiny woman that carried on two conversations at once and painted her face like it were a coloring book simply did not fit the mold. She continued to tell me how this woman had applied for a job and had told her after filling out the form, "Of course, you know I'm not very good with numbers." at which the supervisor had informed her, "Well, yah...I noticed!"

Being very aware that this woman was suffering from some sort of mental disorder I proceeded to tell th supervisor about my friend Matt who has Down Syndrome and how if you give him two pennies he thinks he has two thousand dollars.
She seemed to soften a bit realizing too that this woman could not help what she was.

I left the store with my few purchases and a tear in my eye all the while looking for the little lady to see which way she'd went. There was no sign of her.

My thought as I left was to pray for her and hope that people would come to realize that she is what she is and to accept her differeces instead of shunning her because of it and knowing all the while, it could be me that had this condition and she could be living a life that better fit the mold.

I told my mother about the incident and she too felt for this woman. Mom's term is the one I use today, "There, but for the grace of God, go I."

Quote attributed to John Bradford

The Call

Therefore, I desire that men pray everywhere, lifting up holy hands, without wrath and doubting. 1Ti 2:8

Early this morning, somewhere near 5:30 a.m. I rose from my bed with a feeling that I needed to pray. I didn't know why until I turned on the news for a brief moment before I started my prayers. THIS is what I saw on the news. A mother's children abducted by a car jacker and I realized how heart wrenching a situation would be to a mother AND the children involved.
I began praying the Rosary and as I prayed, I had only gotten through the 2nd decade and I had this warm, soothing feeling wash over me. I heard within my heart, "Don't worry about the children, they are going to be OK."

The peace that washed over me was so intense that I had a hard time staying awake to finish my Rosary. I was so soothed that afterward, I feel asleep for another hour in perfect peace.

Today at noon, I turned on the news just to get an update. THIS is what I found online. The news on television said that they were found sometime around 5:30 to 6:00 a.m.! ( There is an hour time difference between there and here as well making it an hour earlier in Washington) I would have to say that it was a prayer answered!

Now, I am not saying that you have to pray a certain way to be heard by God, but I know what I felt this morning while praying the Rosary was definitely a sign that God was listening to my prayer. When I have depression and the like, I can pray the Rosary and it lifts at times. For me, the Rosary answers many of my prayers. Some people have a terrible aversion to the Rosary, some because they've been taught it just couldn't possibly be the right way to pray and others because they were simply forced to pray it while growing up and can't find it in their heart to pray it now. Some, on the other hand, find it the answer to every prayer.
The question I raise to myself more than anyone else is, do I always answer the call to pray? Why do I sometimes NOT pray when I know that it is the answer to anything and everything?

I only want to make people aware that if they feel the need to pray, please do! Sometimes, it could divert the worst things that happen in our society. At other times, it is the answer to an illness or it may help a person make the change in their life that they've needed to do for years.
NEVER give up on what God can do, and He can do ANYTHING!
All we have to do is listen to The Call and answer it with our heart, " YES, Lord!"

A Mother's Pride and Joy

Here are my two sons, Justin and Kade. We took these photos on a creek near our home and also under a HUGE poplar tree we traditionally take our photos at each year.

I think they're keepers!

Gus

This is Gus.
Gus has had a very hard life. It wasn't because he lacked lots of love and TLC, it was because his mother abandoned him and his 4 siblings this fall. He is approximatley 8 to 9 weeks old. He has suffered through bouts of illness and has had a fungus outbreak because his immune system is weak, hence the name Gus. He is the only one left in his family, the others were just too weak to make it.
Gus was doing great yesterday. He was sitting happily in front of the fireplace soaking up the heat and around 9 p.m. last night he started acting funny and walking dizzily.
I took him to a friend who works with animals and she said that he has distemper, she thinks and gave him some mega doses of antibiotics (again).
Gus is adorable, sweet and loving.
I'm so tired of caring for sick kittens, but I love this little guy so much and I've put in a good 7 weeks day and night on this guy already! Maybe a few prayers are in order to save him. It couldn't hurt.
I know this sounds silly, but if you find time in your day, could you all pray that he makes it through this?
Thank you so much!

Update:
After I posted this story, Gus got up and ate an enormous amount of cat food and went back to sleep. Then when I got home this afternoon, he drank milk from a bottle and is now sleeping again.
Again, I thank anyone out there for their prayers, I have this tremendous urging to care for God's creatures. I don't think that He gets upset when one prays for the creatures of the earth, especially since he has entrusted them all to our care and us to His.

The Peace of His Presence

Deep and silent and cool as a broad, still tree-shaded river
Is the peace of thy presence, thou rest of souls.
From the thousand problems of this our hurring life
We turn, with silent joy, to plunge in thee,
To steep our souls in thy quiet depths
Where no clamour of earth disturbs our perfect content.
Thou art our home and refuge;
In thee we are safe and at peace:
Ever in the din and hurry of the world
We know that thou art near,
We know that close at hand -closer than our little life-
Floweth that silent river of thy presence and love.
In a moment we may be with thee and in thee,
In a moment, as this loud world clangs round us,
We may rest secure in the bliss of thine eternity.
John S Hayland
From the book, "Draw Me" by Carmen Rojas
Photo of Anthony Lake, Oregon

Dreaming of Winter

Here I am in winter. I am waiting for it to come again because I'm tired of yard work! I believe the irrigation water goes out this weekend though, that means we don't have to water the yard anymore this year but it always seems to get dry before the weather sets in.
Steve's garden needs water until frost or else he can't get anymore tomatoes which the deer love to eat, so we will water it with the house well.
Until then, I will keep thinking snow!

Puppy Size

I wouldn't normally post an email here, but this one took my heart....*SIGH*

Puppy Size "Danielle keeps repeating it over and over again. We've been back to this animal shelter at least five times. It has been weeks now since we started all of this," the mother told the volunteer. "What is it she keeps asking for?" the volunteer asked. "Puppy size!" replied the mother. "Well,we have plenty of puppies, if that's what she's looking for." "I know...we have seen most of them," the mom said, in frustration... Just then Danielle came walking into the office. "Well, did you find one?" asked her mom. "No, not this time," Danielle said with sadness in her voice. "Can we come back on the weekend?" The two women looked at each other, shook their heads and laughed "You never know when we will get more dogs. Unfortunately, there's always a supply," the volunteer said. Danielle took her mother by the hand and headed to the door. "Don't worry, I'll find one this weekend," she said. Over the next few days both mom and dad had long conversations with her. They both felt she was being too particular. "It's this weekend or we're not looking any more," Dad finally said in frustration. "We don't want to hear anything more about puppy size either," Mom added. Sure enough, they were the first ones in the shelter on Saturday morning. By now Danielle knew her way around, so she ran right for the section that housed the smaller dogs. Tired of the routine, mom sat in the small waiting room at the end of the first row of cages. There was an observation window so you could see the animals during times when visitors weren't permitted. Danielle walked slowly from cage to cage, kneeling periodically to take a closer look. One by one the dogs were brought out and she held each one. One by one she said, "Sorry, you're not the one." It was the last cage on this last day in search of the perfect pup. The volunteer opened the cage door and the child carefully picked up the dog and held it closely. This time she took a little longer. "Mom, that's it! I found the right puppy! He's the one! I know it!" She screamed with joy. "It's the puppy size!" "But it's the same size as all the other puppies you held over the last few weeks," Mom said. "No not size ---- the sighs. When I held him in my arms, he sighed," She said. "Don't you remember? When I asked you one day what love is, you told me love depends on the sighs of your heart. The more you love, the bigger the sigh!" The two women looked at each other for a moment. Mom didn't know whether to laugh or cry. As she stooped down to hug the child, she did a little of both. "Mom, every time you hold me, I sigh. When you and Daddy come home from work and hug each other, you both sigh. I knew I would find the right puppy if it sighed when I held it in my arms," she said. Then holding the puppy up close to her face she said, "Mom, he loves me. I heard the sighs of his heart!" Close your eyes for a moment and think about the love that makes you sigh. I not only find it in the arms of my loved ones, but in the caress of a sunset, the kiss of the moonlight and the gentle brush of cool air on a hot day. They are the sighs of God. Take the time to stop and listen; you will be surprised at what you hear. "Life is not measured by the breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away." "

Ponderosa

I thought this tree was pretty when I looked up through its limbs so I took a picture of it.

On Pumkins, cars and Knees

I always buy pumpkins to decorate with this time of year since my mother and father can't grow them anymore. The squash beetle simply feast upon them until there is nothing left unless they use high powered chemicals to keep them away.
They used to raise great pickup loads of pumpkins that the local raceway used and we all got free passes to the Halloween Classic. It was a wonderful place to take the boys when they were smaller. We would watch the races most of the afternoon and then take the boys back to the pits where all the racers and their families had converted their trailers and their little lots into a halloween wonderland.
There was everything from haunted house trailers to old graveyards with hilarious little sayings on the tombstones to the occasional car crash with various body parts scattered around and huge signs that told about the carelessness of driving too fast and under the influence of alcohol.

Well, those days have passed and my children have grown. They would still love to go to the halloween classic, but it wouldn't be to see the old hearse driving around with the guy dressed up and laying in a coffin. They would simply go for the cars.
The pumpkins wouldn't matter at all.
I really wish I didn't have to buy them, but I do and I always put them on my front step to usher in the autumn season. This year I went for 3 beautiful large pumpkins when I was in town Saturday.
Walmart was the cheapest, I found, and so I searched through them and bought 3 larger ones.
The largest we put on top of a boxed desk that Justin had bought while we were shopping and he was anxious to get it home. Kade scooted into the back seat of the Xterra and stretched his sore knee out by sticking his foot over the desk and into the corner of the vehicle opposite him.
Everything went well until we were rounding the last curve home. We could see the driver stopped on the corner waiting to turn onto the road doing one of those, "Should I go? Should I wait?" things and Justin slowed down a bit. The driver seemed to be looking in our direction ok and so Justin sped up again.
At that moment, the driver decided he may turn out after all and started out into the road. Justin slammed the brakes on slightly...nothing like my blowout though, just enough to make everything in the rig slide forward. The driver in the other car saw us and stopped again.
In the meantime, the large pumpkin had decided to take a little trip to the front of the car but the only think standing it its way was Kade's bad knee so it simply jammed Kade's foot in the corner a little deeper as it smashed into his painful appendage. I heard the scream and the huge "OOOOOWWWWW!" and knew exactly what had happened.
It didn't hurt it bad, just enough to make it tender again.
I bet it was funny this morning at therapy though, when he tried to explain why his knee hurt.
I can imagine the look on his face as he told his therapist that it was mom's pumpkin that attacked him!
I even weighed that huge pumpkin yesterday and found out that it weighed 25 pounds!
Well, it seems that at least for Kade pumpkins and knees do not do well when you put them in the back seat of the car together!

Old things

I am beginning to realize that old things have passed the test of time. They are the winners, they are the ones that have the stories to tell.
It's a good thing, most of what I own are old things anymore.
Truly though, when I walk through a town such as Silver City, Idaho which is a ghost town and view bottles such as these lined up in the window, I wonder what stories they could tell if they had voices of their own. Would they have belonged to the chinamen on the mountain outside of town? Would they have been medicinal? Perhaps they were used for cooking or tossed carelessly down a well. Each one has their own story of life that has passed to tell. I just wish I could hear them speak of it.
I'm beginning to realize that it won't be long and I'll be one of those "old things too." Will I have stories to tell? Will I stand the test of time? God willing, I will have my own stories to share. I don't want them to disappear without being written or saved somewhere in my life. It would be nice to know that my great-great grandchildren have read something I wrote and know something of my life, don't you think?
I would like to ask you all to please give me a story that you cannot forget from your past. One that is joyful or sorrowful, I don't care. I only care that you would like to pass it on to someone else. When you have shared this story with me, I will then post it on my blog. These stories will then become some part of my past as well.
Now, get to thinking... I know that your stories are good ones because you all are very special people. Hopefully, there will be a few of you that will share a story (and perhaps a photo as well) with me and we will get to know everyone's past a bit better.
Please email the stories to me, if you wouldn't mind and then I will share them here.
Have a great weekend!

Memory Lane

Photo of my grandmother and mother.
This poem was found in Grandma's photos


Memory Lane
I'd like to stroll down Memory Lane
Together, you and I-
And sing the songs we used to sing
In pleasant days gone by.
Our thoughts will bloom like flowers
And we'll gather every one.
We'll laugh at things we used to do;
the joyous things we've done.
And then someday, if God is good,
Perhaps beneath the sky-
Hand in hand we'll stroll once more
Together-
You and I.

Hugs

Photo is of my grandmother on the left, her mother and her sister.



I have been thinking about hugs alot, it seems. There are many forms of hugs, there is the lover's hug, the friend's hug, the hug of those who simply wish each other well. Many of them I cannot even remember because it seems the hug is something that is limitless in its expression.
Most of the time I enjoy being hugged, of course this even counts the hugs given to me by my teen age sons that ends up in a struggle to get away before they begin to tickle me or snarf (as we call it) in my ear like a dog because they know it tickles like the dickens! Hugs are wonderful!

My grandmother, I believe gave me the best hugs of all. Maybe it was because of the love that was between us or maybe it was simply because I knew that grandma would never really do anything to hurt me that her hugs were so wonderful because it certainly wasn't because they were gentle.
Grandma's hugs were given with enormous zest. She would reach out and grab me around my rib cage and squeeze with all her might and 90% of the time I would end up saying "ow!" before she would let go because her squeeze of love always hurt a little. I would never trade one of her hugs for anything in the world. To me, they were simply wonderful. They were the show of love that I needed in my life. Right now, I'd do anything possible to have one of her hugs. I miss her all the time, it seems.

In my life, I feel that Jesus gives me "Grandma hugs" once in a while as well. Sometimes there are those little moments that I know Jesus is here but the pain or the sorrow or whatever I am going through seems almost more than I can bear. It's in those moments that I feel His hug. He reaches out and grabs me just as Grandma used to do. He squeezes just enough to hear me say "ow!" and then I realize that He's hugged me and I'm going to be Ok. Sometimes it seems like life can give enough blows that it's hard to even breathe then I realize that it's because Jesus is squeezing me and saying, "See, I love you!" and with that, I become more and better because of the trial I have been put through.

I know that at times I lack in what I am asked to and in some cases not asked to do but do anyway for Him, I lacked much in what I was never asked to do but did for love for my grandmother as well. I do not think that she loved me less because of it and I do not think Jesus loves me less either. Just in case I'd forget this though, He gives me some mighty hugs. With each one, just like grandma's but in much greater form, I become better for receiving them. With each one I become closer to Him.

I once read somewhere that the trials in life should never come between you and Jesus, they should simply press you closer to Him. His hugs can be hard to bear sometimes unless you're in the right mindset, unless you know what is really going on. Then you have to be prepared to be pressed closer to Him. Sometimes it hurts and I cannot deny that.

Sometimes I wish that He'd not love me quite so much because the hugs would not hurt as much. Then I realize that I've let that little worry come between Jesus and myself and that He was working hard to get me to see that He needed me closer to Him because of it, not farther away. Each and every little pain we go through in life has the potential to bring us closer to Jesus, if we would only let it.

I'm not perfect and never will be. I am always and forever letting those hugs separate Him and I for a time and then see it for what it is and then ask Jesus to squeeze me just a little tighter so that I might feel His love in my life just as I felt Grandma's.

There are always going to be trials in a person's life, I just hope that each and every one of us realizes that they are there for a purpose and ask Jesus to simply hug us closer because I, for one could not make it without a hug once in a while.