Out of the mouth of babes

Today, I'm remembering a conversation I had with my oldest daughter about 10 years ago. At that time, I was shocked at what she shared. She'd been having a conversation with her oldest son (he's 18 now) when he looked up at her and said, "Mom, what will you do when you get old?" She thought about it for a few minutes and responded with an "I don't know." Then he said, "Will you be like Gigi (that's me)? Will you just spend all your days cleaning?" 

 

As she shared that with me, my first thought was to laugh. You know, out of the mouths of babes and all, but then I thought, what kind of legacy am I leaving for my grandchildren. Of course, this grandson has seen my house and knows it's always clean (yes, I'm a clean freak) but do I really want to be known as a Martha????

 

For those of you who don't know, I'm speaking of Martha in the Bible. Martha was one of the sisters of Lazarus, the man Jesus raised from the dead after he'd been in his tomb for four days. The other sister's name was Mary. 

 

Mary and Martha were very different. In the Bible, we're told after Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead, Martha was inside being busy doing things to prepare a nice meal. She was probably focused on making sure everything was going to be just so while Mary, was more interested in hearing what Jesus had to say. Well, if you know the story, you know Martha got a little ticked off at her sister not helping her in the kitchen. So what does she do? She goes to Jesus and complains but she wasn't expecting the answer she received from him. He told her that Mary had chosen the better part. 

 

Martha probably walked away from Jesus with her head held in shame knowing what He'd said was the truth. Mary was sitting with the men at Jesus' feet learning profound truths while Martha was slaving away in the kitchen. 

 

Now Martha wasn't a terrible woman, someone had to prepare the meal, right? But her heart was not focused correctly. She was worried about all the tasks at hand and she was also frustrated and angry at her sister's lack of help. 

 

As I thought about what my daughter said about my grandson's question, I had to take a few minutes to regroup. Did he really think all I did every day was clean???? Hopefully not! But it made me realize, little eyes are watching. And they often see things we fail to see. What I'd rather him have said to his Mommy was, "Mom, when you get old, will you be a wise and godly woman like Gigi?" And of course, she would have answered, "I'd surely like to be." 

 

Out of the mouths of babes! You never know what they'll say. I'm thankful my daughter took time to share what she thought was a funny conversation with her son but to me, it was very thought provoking.

In our world, we'll always have the need for Marthas and Marys. But instead of deciding whether you want to be one or the other, why not try to be a little of both? Jesus said Mary chose the better part and isn't that what all of us want? 

 

As I wrap the cord of my vacuum cleaner up and get ready to put it away, I think I'll make a cup of coffee and sit down for a little bit with Jesus. We have a big conversation ahead. 

 

I hope this post has impacted you in a small way. Don't forget to seek the better part and don't forget to spread love. Jesus wants us to experience all there is from Him and it'd be best if we heed His advice. 

 

"As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him. She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet listening to what he said. But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, "Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!" "Martha, Martha," the Lord answered, "you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed-or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her." (Luke 10:38-42)

Lumps, lines, and lessons

Salvador tucking the carpet under the baseboard

It's amazing how something so little can be so aggravating. As a typical type A personality, I like things to be perfect, or at least as close to it as possible. So after 8 years of living in our current home, as things began to look "not so perfect" any more, I had to do something about it. 

First came the settling cracks. I was told they were typical of a new build. As the home began to settle onto its foundation, tiny cracks would appear at stress points. No problem! I'd been trained in mudding and taping sheetrock way back in 2011 as I prepared to go on a mission trip to Alaska. I knew I could fix those little cracks with no problem, and I did. 

Next came little nicks and dings on the walls from moving furniture about. Along with those came tiny fingerprints from happy grandchildren. Again, no problem. I could patch and I could paint. Those little fixes were a breeze. 

But when I started noticing lines and ridges in the carpet, I was not happy. In fact, the more I focused on those imperfections, the more irritated I became. Oh, believe me, I'd watched hundreds of YouTube videos on using knee kickers to push out those lumpy places and if I'd had one of those tools, I would have certainly tried it, but I knew this was a job for professionals. Of course, I didn't know any carpet stretchers so I got on the computer and pulled up Angie's List. They were supposedly the host of reputable repairmen, or so we thought. We made an appointment to have men come out and tackle our problems and we thought we were getting a good deal. We were told we'd only pay $300 for having the issues in 5 rooms addressed. The places that needed help weren't big, but they were bothersome to me - a veritable eyesore. I wanted those places fixed and wanted them done yesterday. 

The men came and seemed to be doing a good job. They pulled out a knee kicker and got to work. After 30 minutes, they handed me the bill. I looked over their work and the carpet seemed to be smoothed out well, so I paid them. Little did I know, their fix was only temporary. Weeks later, the lines, lumps, and bumps eased back out and again, I was upset. 

Two years later, we'd still not gotten around to having another carpet person come out to fix the floors. At the first of March, I made a plan. I was going to have those problem areas gone or else! So I got on Facebook and asked my friends if any of them could recommend a reputable company. I wasn't going to go through Angie's List again after the last fiasco. One friend reached out and gave me the name of the person who'd just done work in her house. I got the number and called the same day. 

When I spoke with Mark, he was on a job. I could hear him shuffling the phone from shoulder to shoulder as he talked with me. Oh sure, he could do the job, but he couldn't do it for at least a month. They were booked solid. I told him that was okay, I just wanted the work to be completed before Easter since we'd be having company for the holiday. He put me on the schedule for Saturday, April 9. Well, the week before my scheduled work date, I reached out to confirm the appointment. Mark responded with a change. Due to a delay from the plumbing installation on a new home, one of his big jobs hadn't been able to have been completed by the deadline. He was going to have to push my job out another day. Instead of coming out on Saturday, as originally planned, my job wasn't going to be done until Sunday - Palm Sunday. I wasn't happy about that. We'd have to miss church and Palm Sunday was a special day for us, but we had no choice so we agreed. 

Early Sunday morning, my husband and I rose at 7:00 a.m. because the workmen were to arrive by 9 and we wanted to be up and enjoy our coffee before they came. 9:00 came and went, no workers. At 9:40 a.m. our doorbell rang. A small Hispanic man stood there. He said, "I'm Salvador. I'm here to do your carpet." We were surprised. Mark (the owner of the company) wasn't coming. He's subcontracted the job to Salvador. 

We wondered, as we ushered Salvador into our home, how he was going to do the job alone. He was a tiny man, no more than 125 pounds. There was furniture to move and Mark had assured us his "team" would handle it all - no problem. Apparently, he forgot to mention that to Salvador because Salvador told me, through broken Spanish, that Mark had told him the rooms would be empty! Talk about miscommunication! 

To make a long story short, Salvador was gracious and he was a very hard worker. He was here an hour and a half and never stopped once. 

We watched him use his power stretcher to push the carpets into place and watched as he used his little body to slam against the knee kicker forcing the carpet into corners before trimming with a super sharp Xacto knife. 

Salvador's hammer and knee kicker

As he worked, I made sure to make small talk with him. Standing outside each room, I'd ask him questions about himself and his family. I learned he came to the U.S. from Mexico and had lived in Texas for a while before meeting and marrying his American wife. I learned he had 3 children, 2 were his wife's from a previous marriage, and one was theirs jointly. Salvador was soft spoken but didn't hesitate to talk about his life. He'd been doing flooring work for the past 24 years and his wife was a hair dresser. I enjoyed getting to know him. 

When he'd finished the job, he asked me to check his work. Everything was perfect and I was pleased. 

Salvador asked for a glass of water and I quickly obliged. He mentioned he was diabetic and had been struggling with his health for the past few years. I asked if I could pray for him before he went and Salvador quickly agreed. My husband and I stood with Salvador in the kitchen and I placed my hand on his thin shoulder. Slowly he removed his ball cap and bowed his head, ready for me to pray. 

I had no idea what to pray so I asked the Holy Spirit to guide my words. I wanted to pray for specific needs this hard-working man had mentioned but I also wanted to let him know how much God loved and cared for him. I don't remember the exact words I prayed but I know I asked God to watch over and protect Salvador and his family, to bless his health, and to help him know that God sees him even when he feels all alone. 

Before Salvador left, I gave him a small New Testament and asked him if he believed in God. He said he did and I was happy to hear that. I'd only planted a seed, but I knew God would water it and allow it to grow in the days ahead. 

I truly believe that every person we meet is a divine appointment from God. Either we are to minister to them or they are to minister to us. This day, was a joint blessing. Salvador ministered to me with his gentle spirit and his hard work ethic. I ministered to him by showing him kindness and love. 

I've walked into every room of our house this morning, thankful that all the lines and lumps are gone from our carpets. As I stood, looking down at the some of the loose carpet fibers leftover from Salvador's work, I couldn’t help but think there was a lesson to be learned from that experience, too. 

There are so many things we can't control in life. Most of those things are small and don't seem to matter until they accumulate. Satan loves to use those small issues to goad us and if we're not careful, those small things can turn into humongous things in a hurry. 

Salvador using the power stretcher

We'd dealt with the lumpy, stretched out carpet for two years past the last carpet stretchers failed attempts to repair it. I could have overlooked the issues and let them slide until we sold the house, but I didn't want to. Whenever I saw those places, they nagged and nagged at me. 

It may not have been a huge issue to many but for me and my perfectionism, it was major. 

I'm thankful Salvador came alone. I'm thankful he was a slight man with a sweet attitude. I was touched as I watched him work. I could tell he loved his family deeply and he'd faced many challenges in his life - not only health issues, but prejudice, too. 

I was raised to love people from all walks of life. I was taught not to judge. I'm thankful I could see Salvador through the eyes of God and be reminded that we are all precious in His sight. 

My hope is that Salvador left here yesterday feeling loved and cared for deeply. 

We prayed for him several times throughout the day and I'm sure we will in the days ahead, too. As believers, it's our responsibility to love and care for others always. We are to be the hands and feet of Jesus. 

One day, I hope to meet Salvador again, perhaps in heaven. I'm sure we'll have a wonderful visit and maybe we'll get to share a few laughs. 

Salvador was just a small, Hispanic man, but he could also have been an angel unaware. He certainly touched my life in the 90 minutes he was here. 

Looking at his hammer and knee kicker as they lay on the floor, I couldn't help but think about the hammer that drove the nails into Jesus' hands and feet. Today was the beginning of Holy Week. Today was Palm Sunday, the day Jesus rode into Jerusalem on the back of a donkey, later in the week, He'd suffer immensely before being crucified. He'd be beaten, mocked, and falsely accused. I wonder if Salvador had any idea. If we'd had more time, I would have shared everything. 

I hope Salvador will read the small Bible I gave him. I pray he will. 

I’ve read my Bible every day of my life since I was old enough to read and still, I find something new in the Word each day. The Bible is alive and powerful! 

Material things like homes and carpets can make our lives more comfortable, but they won’t last forever. God’s Word does! I’m so thankful God gave us His inspired Word. It is my most treasured possession. 

Finding Gratitude and Other Lessons Cancer Taught Me

It wasn’t yesterday that I was diagnosed with stage 2B Invasive Ductal Carcinoma breast cancer, but it feels that way. I’m still adversely affected by that life-altering event. On a daily basis, I have to make a choice. I can wallow in the self-pity of what if, or I can choose to be grateful I’m alive.  

Cancer is a wonderful teacher. If you let her, she’ll teach lessons you never dreamed you needed to learn. Often, in the beginning, it’s hard to see and learn the lessons. As the days go by, it’s easier to become more aware of the important things cancer has to tell. But not everyone wants to discover the lessons. Not everyone chooses to look for the good in a hard situation. This is part of the lesson.

One of the first lessons cancer taught me was to give myself permission to grieve. I didn’t receive this lesson at first, although cancer tried several times to teach it to me. I refused to receive it. I didn’t think I was grieving. I thought I was okay. Losing my breasts had been extremely difficult. I didn’t understand why I’d been chosen to go through the trial of breast cancer. A deep sadness wrapped itself around me. I carried it with me everywhere I went. I didn’t understand anything other than cancer was robbing me of my femininity. One evening, as I sat alone in my room, I heard a whisper. That whisper said, “It’s okay to give yourself permission to grieve.” I internalized that statement and after mulling it over, tears began to fall. And then the dam burst. I was not only weeping, I was mourning. Deep guttural sobs poured forth and I was frightened by the raw power unleashed. I didn’t realize I had so much emotion pent up inside. As I allowed myself time to grieve, the tears began to subside. This did not happen suddenly. It took days and weeks and months, but gradually, the sadness grew less heavy.

The next lesson cancer taught me was how to process my anger. At first, I didn’t realize I was angry. I’m not normally an angry person. But as I thought about all I’d endured, I realized I was angry. I was bitter. I was hurt. I didn’t want to have cancer. I didn’t choose to have cancer. I didn’t deserve to have cancer! And, I didn’t want to have surgery. I didn’t want to go through treatment. I just wanted my old life back, the life I had before cancer came in like a wrecking ball to shatter my life into little pieces. Like a child in the throes of a full-blown temper tantrum, I pushed, kicked, and screamed until I’d worn myself out. But cancer told me it was okay. It was okay to be angry.

And then cancer did the unexpected. She taught me how to find gratitude. She said it could have been worse. I could have died. I was grateful I hadn’t died. That would have been terrible! Or maybe not. But cancer’s next lesson taught me gratitude can replace grief and anger. I realized that I’d taken a lot for granted before cancer. I hadn’t realized that every day is a precious gift. Cancer taught me to start looking for gratitude. She taught me to choose joy. This lesson, she said, would teach me not only to find gratitude but to remember I had a choice. It was my choice how I’d live each day. I could choose to grieve, to be angry, bitter or hurt, or I could choose to live and be happy.

My next lesson came as I completed radiation. After enduring 28 rounds, my body weak and tired, cancer said, “Push through. You’re stronger than you think.” And I did. I made myself get through each day. Little by little, I was determined to get better. I worked hard, even when I didn’t feel like it. It wasn’t easy but I’m glad I kept going. I could have given up.

Cancer is a good teacher. I can’t say I like her, but I do appreciate her. I’m grateful for the valuable lessons she’s taught and yes, I might have learned those lessons without her, but with her, I think I learned them a little better than most.

I still don’t understand why I got cancer and I don’t know what caused it. I probably never will. But, I can say, finding gratitude has been a blessing and cancer helped me discover I have so much for which to be grateful.

If you let her, cancer will teach you important and valuable lessons. Your lessons may be vastly different than mine, but I guarantee, they will be life-altering lessons. You may not be ready to learn the lessons right away, but give her time, and she will teach.

Many of my loved ones and friends have died from cancer. Many of them died in excruciating agony and pain. Not all of them would have appreciated the viewpoint I’ve shared but I certainly mean no disrespect to anyone past, present, or future struggling with cancer. It is by far, the most challenging and difficult thing I’ve ever experienced in my entire life, but I’ve chosen to take this awful trial and learn from it. So I hope you’ll understand my heart. My feeling is that cancer, even with all of its horrible ugliness, can be kind in the lessons we learn from it. But we have to be willing to look for the lessons. They’re not always apparent but they do have a purpose.

Lessons in Brokenness

Wednesdays...hump days. Today was a cold winter one but I'd slept well last night and felt great. I didn't have anything pressing to do other than to run by my doctor's office for some blood work. I thought I'd be in and out in a few minutes but ended up waiting there for over an hour. The office was crowded. Thankfully, there was a seat in the rear of the waiting room and it was empty. As I sat among the coughing and cell phone conversations, I wished I'd had a paper mask to place over my mouth and nose. With a weakened immune system, I was fearful about catching germs.

After having my blood drawn, I headed to the parking lot trying to think of something to do. I'd already done all my housework the day before so nothing was pressing. I got in my car and started to drive. I'd head to Goodwill. This would be a great time of year to peruse the aisles as I was sure they'd be full due to donations received before the holidays. I always enjoy shopping at Goodwill. It's fun to see what kinds of things end up on their shelves and I can always use a new book or two or three.

When I arrived at the store, there were very few people inside. I liked it that way. It's hard to shop when  you're crossing paths with someone at every turn. I looked on the sign to see the daily color. Today was green and that meant everything in the store marked with a green tag was half price. In the book department, I began scanning for green stickers. Immediately, I found several Nora Roberts books I hadn't read and a Fannie Flagg. As I was pulling it from the shelf, my eyes fell on another book. A book with a red spine. The title was Broken in the Right Place, How God Tames the Soul by Alan Nelson. I picked it up and flipped through the pages. At only a $1.00, I decided to take it home.

I left the store with my purchases and went home to unpack. As I ate my lunch, I pulled out the book about brokenness and placed it beside my plate. I'd just recently completed reading The Broken Way, a new book by Christian author, Ann Voskamp, and had been deeply touched by it. I began to read the first few pages of this book and realized, God was doing something. I think He's still trying to teach me about being broken. No. I know He is. I've been kicking and screaming and fighting Him every step of the way but now, it's time for me to lean in and listen closely as He continues to reveal the fact that suffering isn't only meant to teach me, it's meant to break me of my self sufficiency.

The forward to my new book from Goodwill says: " It's odd that a religion that carries the cross as its central symbol should require a crash course in suffering. But it does. Oh, how it does. We have somehow ended up with a country full of Christians who consider suffering, whether it comes from a broken body or a broken heart, a violation of the spiritual rights. When things go badly in body or job or family, they whine and complain endlessly. Sometimes they protest vehemently. In between complains and protest, they seek out the company of those who anesthetize them with soothing words and soft music. They have no difficulty finding such anestheticians - pain killing spiritualities are a glut on the market. The only cross they seem to have any acquaintance with is a piece of cheap jewelry. Can anyone get their attention long enough to convince them that suffering must not be avoided, but embraced; that brokenness does not diminish a life of faith but deepens it? Wow! That's powerful stuff.

I am humbled to think God loves me so much He's wanting to use this cancer journey and all the suffering that has gone along with it to teach me more about Himself. I'm looking forward to reading my new book and comparing what I learned in Ann Voskamp's book with it. I know God uses physical suffering to often break the will and spirit of those He loves in order to make them more teachable. I sure hope I learn the lesson soon. I've been through an awful lot of pain and suffering in my life. If I can know it's all been part of God's perfect plan to teach me a valuable lesson, it will have been worth all the pain that came along with it.

I'm thankful He loves me enough to want the very best for me. Last year God had me focus on the word TRUST. This year it's been on the word JOY. I wonder what word He's going to give me next year...I guess I'll know in the new few weeks. Do you ever pray and ask God to give you a word for the New Year? I do and He always answers.

I'm glad I took the time to go by Goodwill today. I had no idea I'd be led to buy a book on brokenness but God did. I bet He's up there smiling right now knowing I'll be digging in over the next few days. Have a pleasant evening! And thanks for stopping by to read my blog.

Busy living - enjoying the mundane

This blog post will be a lot different from most of my other posts. There won't be any insightful spiritual message or sage advice. There will be a lot of the ordinary everyday events...ones most people call mundane, but to me, it is evidence of my getting busy living. If you read yesterday's post, you'll understand what I'm talking about. If you didn't, you can read it here.

This morning, I woke up at 8:00 a.m. to the sounds of a Summer's eve compliments of our sound machine we keep on our bedside table. (It's funny, we haven't used it since we've had it, but yesterday, after talking to my oldest daughter about my issues with insomnia and hearing the peaceful and constant tapping of her off kilter ceiling fan, I decided last night to give it a try. There were lots of settings to choose from and I sampled each one before deciding on the Summer's eve one. There was an Ocean settings, Thunderstorm, Rain Forest, etc.) I sat up in bed and rubbed my eyes. I'd slept well, thanks to a prescription my oncologist had given me to help with my sleeplessness. I was so thankful! I've needed a good night's sleep for a while and finally, I felt rested. I got up and made my bed then went into the kitchen to have something for breakfast.

Looking in the fridge, I didn't see anything I really wanted to eat so I opted for an Asian pear and a square of Colby cheese. I sat at the kitchen table and began to read my Bible. The verse I landed on was about not worrying about tomorrow. How appropriate, I thought to myself. After breakfast, I went back through my room into my walk in closet. I grabbed some clothes and got dressed. Next, I began putting on my makeup. My cell phone rang and it was my oldest daughter. She touches base with me several times a day and I'm so thankful for those long distance calls. While on the phone with my oldest daughter, my youngest daughter shoots me a text. She wants to color her hair again and wants to know when it's okay to do it. She's asking because she wants ME to do it. (I cut and color her hair regularly.) I give her advice and we end our messaging as her company begins their Friday employee meeting. I continued talking with my oldest girl. We talk about thirty minutes and by the time we were done talking, I'd fixed my face, got in the garage and gotten my electric blower, and was outside blowing pollen off the walkway. I was so glad to have the energy to do everything I was doing. There have been so many days lately that I haven't been as blessed.

When I took the blower back to the garage to put it away, I saw the picture frames I'd picked up last week at Goodwill for next to nothing. When I bought them, I had a project in mind. I lay cardboard down on the concrete floor and lined up the frames. I'd already taken the glass and mats out of the frames earlier so they were ready to paint. I picked up the Rustoleum Spray Paint/Primer combo and gave them all a light dusting of paint. The smell of the paint was strong...silly me! I forgot to open the garage door. I left the frames to dry and came back inside. I had some clothes to wash so I grabbed those and threw them in the washer. As the clothes were washing, I went outside to fill my bird feeder.

As soon as I opened the door, a squirrel look right at me with guilt in his eyes! He'd been caught! He was on the feeder enjoying those plentiful black oiled sunflower seeds. I clapped my hands loudly and scared him off. The squirrels irritate me because they hog the feeder and the birds can't get their food. I needed to figure out a way to keep those guys off my feeder. That's when I had an idea. I have several wrought iron shepherd's hooks in my yard. They all vary in height and I use them to hold wind chimes, suet feeders, and decorative items. The hook the bird feeder was on was pretty short but I had a double hook in the backyard that was much taller. I decided to switch them and hopefully remedy my problem. The hooks were set deep in the ground so they took some pulling to get them out. I don't have as much upper arm strength as I used to have since my surgery so I struggled a few minutes with them before getting them out of the ground. I pulled up the two from the front yard and took them to the side yard and reset them. Then I went around the back and got the tall double hooked one and brought it around front. I rehung the feeder and then, for extra measure, I went inside and got my can of spray cooking oil. I doused the upright post of the hook just in case any pesky squirrels thought they might like to climb up the hook and get to the feeder. I smiled as I thought of a squirrel sliding down the greased pole. It doesn't take much to make me happy!

Back inside again, the clothes were ready to go into the dryer. After I'd completed that task, I went into the kitchen to put away the dishes from the dishwasher. I always run my dishwasher after we go to bed so I can wake up to a clean sink and freshly cleaned dishes. As I was putting away the dishes, I looked out toward the back patio. I noticed my hen and chicks (succulents) were overflowing their pot and needed to be divided. Back to the garage for the cactus potting mix and a pot to plant the babies in. I went outside and noticed the sky was a beautiful shade of deep blue. The green on the trees was brilliant. What a gorgeous Spring day! I broke off the separated the babies from their mothers and potted them into their new home. Soon the little babies would be  mothers and have babies of their own. Hens and Chicks multiply so rapidly and I was looking forward to being able to give some of them away.

On the bar, I saw a list of things I had written down yesterday. I had so many things I wanted to do. I began going through the list and crossing off the things I'd already accomplished and began working on the things I hadn't. I didn't want to overdo it by taking on too many tasks because I knew I'd suffer for it later, but I did find several other things I wanted to do.

I went into my office and flipped on my computer. There were several book reviews I needed to turn in. (I write book reviews for several Christian companies. They provide me with free books and in exchange, I give them an honest, detailed review for their website and their readers. It's a pretty sweet deal. It also keeps me on my toes and helps me keep my writing skills sharp.) After writing those reviews, I began working on an article for the cancer magazine. (I'm a contributing editor and enjoy getting paid for my work with them.) When I finished that article, I looked at the clock. It was almost 2:00 p.m. I thought I had better eat something for lunch even though I wasn't really hungry.

Back to the kitchen, I grabbed some leftover pizza from last night and popped it into the microwave. I heard my cell phone ding indicating I had a Facebook message. I looked to see who it was from and it was from a friend I used to babysit. She was having a rough day and was pretty depressed. The microwave beeped and I took my pizza out and sat down to eat at the bar because my cell phone was charging and the cord wasn't long enough to reach the table. As I ate, I messaged my friend back and tried to cheer her up. We sent several messages back and forth and I tried to offer advice to help her. It was evident she wasn't really seeking advice or help, she just wanted to be heard so I backed off and just "listened." We ended our conversation cordially just about the time I'd finished my pizza and the dryer sounded that the cycle was complete. I got up from the table, put my dish in the sink and headed to the laundry room to remove the clothes and fold them.

I took the big pile of clothes and lay them on my bed. As I began folding them, I figured I would kill two birds with one stone so I flipped on the TV. It was nice to have some noise in the background as I worked. It gets lonely sometimes during the day and I just needed to hear some conversation. Rachel Ray was on and she was interviewing Allison Sweeney about a book she'd written. I didn't know she was a writer. I guess actresses have contacts who can help them get a book deal. It must be nice! I finished folding and putting away the clothes and turned off the TV. As I was walking out of my bedroom, I thought I'd write a different blog post today. I guess people get tired of my same old same old posts and I get tired of writing them, too. It's hard to think of some insightful words of wisdom to share on a daily basis. Instead, I thought I'd just share what I was doing today and how I was learning how to just live.

So that's where I am right now. You're up to date and as I look at the clock, it says it's 3:20 p.m. As soon as I finish this post, I'm going to write 3 prisoners I correspond with on a daily basis. (I'm part of Saints Prison Ministry and I agreed to do that as my gift to the ministry.) When I've completed that, I'll go vacuum and mop. I have company coming tonight and I need to do a little sprucing up. I'll also prepare a Blueberry breakfast casserole for the morning meal. After I do that, I'll figure out what to prepare for supper. While I'm working on it, my husband will come home and we'll talk over his day and enjoy our meal together. We'll probably watch a little TV or sit outside on our porch and wait for our weekend visitors. When they arrive, we'll visit with them until time for bed and tomorrow morning, we'll head to a state park to do some fishing, hiking, and picnicking.

My life is getting back to normal...and yes, this is a normal day for me. I love to stay busy and active. I enjoy the simple, mundane things in my life because they remind me that I'm doing well and I'm getting busy living. And just because I'm enjoying the simple, everyday things in my life doesn't mean I don't still struggle. I do. If I'm being totally honest with you, I'll tell you my back hurts all the time. My arms swell every single day from the time I get out of bed til the time I lay down. My bones and joints ache constantly. My feet burn and I can barely stand to have shoes on but I keep pushing. Why, you might ask? Because if I don't, I'll be admitting defeat. I'm not going to let my body dictate to me what I can and can't do...well, maybe just a little because I do have some real limitations that might cause further injury and make me end up in the hospital again, but I've learned to avoid the things I know my doctor's told me I can't do any longer. But even the pain tells me, Bonnie, you're still alive! And even though some days I barely make it, I do what I can, when I can. Being busy living takes a lot of hard work and there is joy to be found in the everyday tasks we are all called on to do. Sometimes it takes a great deal of determination, but it's do-able. The main thing I'm learning is not to take a single thing for granted and that's quite a lesson to learn.

© bonnie annis all rights reserved

Adversity makes us stronger

I read somewhere that we must partake of the bitter with the sweet. There's a divine purpose in the adversities we encounter every day. They prepare, they purge, they purify, and they also bless. When you look at life that way, it's a little easier to accept trials as they come.

Today I spent the first few hours of the morning in the hospital having some tests done. Apparently, I have polyps growing in my stomach. The doctor wanted to do an EGD, a test where they take a lighted hose with a camera and a cutting tool on the end of it and run it through your mouth down into your upper intestines. I've had it done once before when doctors were looking at a hiatal hernia in my belly so I knew what to expect. It's weird to be conscious one minute and totally out the next. When the anesthesiologist told me they were going to give me Propofol, I immediately thought of Michael Jackson for some reason. No sooner than I'd begun that thought, the room went dark. The next thing I knew, a nurse was fiddling around with some paper in my room and I was wondering how long I'd been there. Scary.

My husband came in a few minutes later and then the doctor. Dr. R explained that I had some erosion in my esophagus lining, a large hiatal hernia, about 20 or more polyps in my stomach and a few more things I can't remember. He told me he'd biopsied all of the suspicious areas and I'd get the results in a week to ten days. I'm not worried at all, which is really strange. I have a wonderful peace about everything and I know that's the result of many prayers going up for me.

When it was time to leave, a beautiful black nurse came to wheel me out. She had the sweetest smile and I told her so. I could tell by her sweet spirit that she was a believer and I told her I could see Jesus sticking out all over her. She laughed and thanked me. She said she needed to hear that and said she was indeed a believer. I told her how blessed we are to have a mighty Savior and she agreed. It was so nice to share a little of our faith with each other. God always plants special people in my path and as I listen to the Holy Spirit's prompting, I know which ones to share a word of encouragement with and when.

We left the hospital and my hubby asked if I was hungry. I hadn't been able to eat anything before the tests and although I wasn't really hungry, I knew he was so I said, "Sure." We ran by a fast food restaurant and grabbed a couple of biscuits and headed on home.

I'm feeling remarkably well today and I have a lot to accomplish including reading some of my new book, "Never Fear Cancer Again." Although cancer is always in the back of my mind, I'm trying not to let it come to the forefront again. I'm continuing to do everything I can to stay healthy and strong. So far, so good! If adversity truly makes us stronger, then I must be a power lifter.  I've certainly had my share of trials and tribulations, in fact, enough to last a lifetime but I'm sure God doesn't have the same view I do. I know He has used my trials to teach me some very valuable lessons over the years and I wouldn't take a million dollars for any of those lessons. I am thankful for tough lessons but I'd rather have easy ones. Don't we all feel that way?

© bonnie annis all rights reserved