Making New Traditions

WHAT DO WE DO WITH TRADITIONS WHEN THEY DON'T FIT ANY MORE

That's been a hard one for us, and not only this year. You see, for several years after Zackary was born he lived with his mommy and daddy at Nana and Papaw's house. His baby bed shared a room with papaw's desk and the room was called the "waffice" (office). The two of them would talk late into the night, and first thing in the morning. Lot's of things were solved during those discussions.

Somehow a tradition evolved around our night time hugs. Zack would climb into Nana's lap and give the sweetest hugs and kisses, called "bedtime lovins", then he would climb up in papaw's lap and play the "kissing game". Papaw would dodge every attempt he made to kiss him, moving at the last minute and sometimes pulling a hat over his face. This frustrated Zack until he would slap both of his chubby hands on papaw's face and squeeze 'till there was no more movement. Everyone dissolved into laughter and went to bed happy.

When mommy and daddy would be at work and papaw would be at home with Nana and Zack, sometimes we would go to McDonald's for lunch. There would inevitably be another kid on the playground bigger than Zack and he would get in trouble. All Zack would say was "MY papaw", and point to Les. Of course he always got an ice cream cone for basically telling the kid, "my papaw is tougher than your papaw".

There were times Zack would walk, holding Nana's hand, and go to C & D Burger for lunch. On the way back we would stop on the bridge and watch for "little frogs" to swim in the 'big ditch that went under the street". A long walk, by the way for young short chubby legs and old short chubby legs. We would make it everyday and then have a nap.

We decorated for birthdays with paper fish, halloween with cute jack-o-lanterns, Thanksgiving with corn and hay and scarecrows, but Christmas was always the most fun. Bright ornaments on the tree with white twinkle lights...a big red bow on top...music boxes older than Zack...lots of presents under the tree (not all for him, but he didn't know that)...and hot chocolate. Hot chocolate was his favorite with blueberry muffins after presents were opened.

Of course there was family, always lots of family. At Nana and Papaw's we had all his aunts, uncles and cousins over for snacks and visiting. Usually one present would be opened by each little one. Then there was his family on daddy's side. Christmas Eve for Grandma Hinkey and at some point on Christmas Day he would see Maw-Maw and Papaw Terry with Uncles Russell and Derrick. Always bringing home more presents, but loving the being with more family.

Then, when Zackary was about five and thought life couldn't get any better, lo and behold a little brother came to the share the lime light, and share it he did. But they seemed to work it out fine between them until one day Zackary had to give Hunter some of his own attention. Standing over Hunter I heard him say, "Look it it's not all about YOU. It use to be all about ME, but not anymore, buck it up." I watched him a little closer for awhile. LOL

Mommy and daddy found them a new house about the same time Hunter joined the family and they moved from Nana and Papaw's house. Leaving all of Nana's furniture, except the chair she watched the Astro's in. He found rooms in his new house for everyone, even Nana and Papaw and didn't understand when we didn't move too. Needless to say, he adjusted but always wanted to spend as much time as possible at "our old house", and he wanted his best friends Abby, Abram and Chey-Chey over to play in his backyard.

Right after they moved into their new house, Zack started Kindergarten in a new school. He loved his school and his teacher, but making new friends was the best part for him. Life settled down for Zack pretty well, mommy took him to school and Nana picked him up. Daddy always got him in the evenings and took him home. Two years passed and life was good for Zack.

Just as summer vacation started in June 2010, something bigger than Zack, or anyone else could ever have imagined happened. His daddy passed away suddenly, leaving only mommy, Zack, Hunter and big brother Dakota to figure this change out. Of course Nana and Papaw, and the whole family at large, were there too but...it wasn't the same. Needless to say, traditions, no life changed faster than anyone could keep up with.

As each day passed, major milestones did too. Father's Day came just a couple weeks after, leaving Zack to wonder who he would give his father's day present to this year, the first day of third grade, Hunter and Zack's birthdays, and Thanksgiving dinner came and went. I watched a young and struggling family start a new life.

I started this blog before Christmas and it has taken me this long to work it out. As we started thinking what we would do to decorate for the holiday, Zackary came to me and said, "Nana, do you think we could do something different this year? Could we combine all our traditions into one and have a really beautiful Christmas House this year?" When I asked him what he thought that would look like he said, "let's get all of the favorite decorations from your house and all of the nativitys and your tree, and all the favorite ones from our house and our tree, and combine them. We have never done that before. We need something different this year, don't you think?" That's what we did and we did have a beautiful Christmas House.

We talked more about what it should look like, and how to make it the same, but different. Turst me, Zack Dyson has grand ideas and knows how to make them happen.

The first thing he thought we should do, was have the whole family over for a Christmas party, "here in our house". He said, "we need food, eggnog, cookies and all my family". All his family came, aunts, uncles, and cousins. It was a very good night and we all went to bed later and happier than usual.

My best friend, "maw maw June", came for a visit and made the boys an "angel bell" ornament for the tree. When they missed daddy, they could ring the bell and remember him. It gave them a chance to share their traditions this year with him. Both Zackary and Hunter enjoyed the bell and the new tradition, asking only a couple questions, and loving their daddy.

Christmas morning brought Santa's gifts at the crack of dawn then we had our blueberry muffins, peaches and cream and of course coffee and hot chocolate. After that snack to hold us over, we opened family presents. Then we ate again, "Father Tim's Christmas Casserole" as we do every year, and everyone took a nap.

On Christmas night, Uncle Tonti prepared a "Cajun Christmas Dinner" with everything Cajun and we did what this family does best, we ate and ate and ate 'til we were stuffed. That tradition will probably never change. ummm.

Zack's cousin Bailey gave each of us a DVD she had made for the whole family. Pics and favorite songs of past years of her uncle Rex as he lived life with the family. Zack sat mesmerized, Hunter jumped up and down and laughed and talked about "my daddy, that's my daddy and me" and the rest of us cried. I think though they were tears we were going to cry that night anyway, but we also got to remember and laugh together as well.

We closed a very full and special day with family gifts one to another. What we shared mostly thourgh out the day and months leading up to the day, is the love this family has for each other.

Life will never be the same for this family and Zack will always be making and facing new traditions, but with the help of our Father in heaven we will make them together and we will always remember the one who loved, laughed and yes argued with great gusto.

Zack and I challenge each of you to cherish the traditions you share with each of your family members and friends,and never take even one of them for granted. This life is a gift, take it and use it, give it away with abandon, never pass up a chance to say "I Love You"...and I do...

YOUR PRINTS

Where Would They Lead?

I was listening to my favorite radio station a couple days ago and the DJ was commenting on a song that had just played. The song I don't remember, but his words struck me as something worth thinking about. He said, "there has been a lot of press about our 'carbon footprint' in the news over the last few months and how they affect the earth for millions of years. How many of us think about how our physical footprints affect the earth and who would they lead?" Then we can ask ourselves how long those prints will last.

That made me think of song from, oh, maybe the 60's, I don't really remember because it was a country song and I have tried to forget as many of those as possible. But the song was, "If Finger Prints Showed Up On Skin, Whose Would Show Up On You?" Yeah, that's why I've tried to forget, not a pretty visual, but in a way, it's the same thought as who would your footprints lead?

Whose fingerprints would you find there...family of course, friends you haven't seen in a long time, maybe even someone you don't particularly like. But would you find the little old man or lady who sits in the nursing home day after day waiting for someone to come and give them a hug, or the person who lives on your street but looks very different from you, or what about the person who ran a red light and smashed your new car? The unlovable in general, the EGR's (extra grace required) in your life. Those whose views differ from your own...

If you think about it for a minute -- the footprint part -- there is really no telling who you lead, or maybe who follows you. Of course we automatically think, my children and grandchildren (their friends and children, too), but also spouses, siblings, friends, co-workers (maybe even bosses)... depending on your profession, maybe patients, students, clients, even the carhop who brings out your coke at Sonic....your prints could be endless.

My first thought was to myself and it went something like this...Yeah, maybe the children, grandchildren, spouse and, okay, maybe friends, but beyond that, I'm just not responsible. Well, okay, maybe my siblings, but that's not fair, I'm not "my brothers keeper" (just a little pun here), umm...okay I will accept that maybe I could be responsible for how my footprints might affect them. The rest of those people though are on their own.

My second thought was to God and it went something like this...okay, so maybe there are people both known to me, and those I have yet to meet, who follow my footprints. Just where have I been walking over the last half century (ok, maybe longer) that doesn't lead to You? I can think of a couple trails I wish I had blazed differently.

These paths and prints could be intentional or not, real foot paths, or verbal expressions, visual indiscretions, physical or emotional bruises, I guess there are as many possibilities as there are people. Only we, ourselves and our God, knows where our footprints have been, but be assured, others have followed, into eternity.

My third and last thought for tonight is...let's make a conscience effort to know just where our prints lead, even if we can't know everyone who follows them.

Father, may all our footprints lead to You.

I love you all, good night. :-)

TRANSITIONS

Life Is Ever Changing

I think for the most part we can say our lives, as children, are carefree and confident. We do what kids are designed to do, in whatever way we are "shaped" to. We trust our parents and/or grand parents instinctively to love and provide for us. We bring nothing "to the table", so to speak, but have no fear of owing anything for what we are given.

Most of us spend years believing and trusting those who provide for us while we grow into the person we will become.

...Younger teens are still trusting loved ones to provide and make life possible for us while being completely self-absorbed and giving very little of ourselves in return.

...As life's lessons get harder and we get older, we become more self-reliant, but still self-absorbed, wanting to do things "our way and learn from our own mistakes", at least until the mistakes start to hurt us, then we start looking for someone else to blame.

...Ahhh, the blame game...it seems this is a favorite, until our own children start to arrive, then our focus begins to change. Actually it begins to look familiar, like deja vu, maybe. Let's not admit there is a state called, "'been there, done that'" save yourself some time and learn from our mistakes. We might recognize it, but let's not say anything yet, maybe no one else will either.

As each of life's transitions occur, we look back on the experiences of earlier stages and wish we could have spent a little more time in each one, maybe preparing a little more fully for what would lie ahead. We don't feel prepared to deal with grown up life.

If you are like me, and I'm fairly confident you are, you have not found it easy to trust the One whose chosen job it is to care for and walk through these bigger and more difficult life stages with you. It's difficult to understand "why?" when it makes no sense at all.

He tells us not to lean on our own understanding. Even though He has promised "never to leave us or forsake us", He tells us "I know the plans I have for you, to make you prosper, not to harm you." He calls us "friend." He says "Come to me if you have a heavy burden." "If I care for the birds of the air, and fish of the sea, so will I care for you." Even in light of the promises He gives, we still cannot fully trust Him.

This is a major transition for us....to lean on Him and not ourselves. I'm still, in many of the changes in my life, struggling to trust, to "Stop striving" and lean on Him. In our small group on Sundays we have started an exercise on "Communicating with God." Journaling is a large part of the exercise and I enjoy it greatly. The exercise is not new to me, but sometimes I let life happen and forget I don't have to do it alone, or have anything to prove. I've long started my day by saying, "Father, don't let me do anything today that will not bring Honor to You." I will now add:

"Father, what do You want to tell me today"...so far His answer has been "Trust Me."

He is in every transition we make and is big enough to carry us through them. I invite each of you to communicate with God along with me daily in a quiet time and place.

I love each of you,

"Oh That Your Hand Would Be With Me"

MY TERRITORY

In our life group we are reading the small book by Bruce Wilkinson called "The Prayer of Jabez". While I was reading for this past Sunday, I asked Les his view on the prayer and he said he didn't think Jabez prayer was meant to be used as a model prayer for us. It was something personal between Jabez and God, but certainly we could learn from his experiences. I'm not sure how we are meant to take the prayer, but the words in this book have struck a cord in my heart

As I finished chapter three and started on chapter. four, the words seemed to jump out at me. The point in this chapter is "oh that your hand would be with me". The writer was talking about descending to power and how out of control and weak he was feeling in his ministry, territory, whatever. He wasn't feeling at all the way a leader should feel. The thought the advisor gave him was that his feeling of being out of control was actually his dependence on The Lord...

I told a friend just a few days ago I had felt out of control in my ministry...the same way Bruce was feeling, but is that not what we strive all our lives to overcome? dependence on someone else? We want to stand on our own two feet, do it our way, make our own mark on the world. Show our ability to "lead". I have to say, I haven't been depending on The Lord, my Out of Control is not in a good way.

As I read the words (and this will probably not explain how I feel or why, it's only helping me to see it more clearly) I realized I had actually asked God (in my heart only of course) to expand my territory within the women's ministry at BACC BEFORE it was presented to me. I wanted that territory and He blessed me and gave it to me. I wanted it to help the younger women relate to and learn from the older women, I wanted to help those who were hurting to heal and trust the Father. He brought into my life very effective tools for doing these things but I'm not actively seeking to use them.

Les and I have asked for many years for Him to bless and grow our territory within our family, our children, grand children, brothers and sisters and their families. This is a very dear and constant desire for me. Again I feel I have not depended upon Him walking beside me and have missed opportunity to bless as I've been blessed.

What have I been doing, Nothing. Actually I have been shirking my blessings and leaving them on the table. No wonder I feel incapable and weak, I'm NOT depending on Him to increase my gift.

I remind myself of the conversation I had with Zackary today about all of the birthday and Christmas gifts he has asked for over the last few years and has received. Now most of them lie in a pile, broken with parts missing and pages torn. He was willing to "donate" those gifts to others, but not willing to care for and appreciate the givers of those gifts.

Father, forgive me for asking for my territory to be larger and then not appreciating the gift or the giver. Restore my dependence on you to once again honor those in my territory.

If you happen to be reading this, you are in my territory by the gift of our Lord and I thank Him for you. I love you and offer myself to you!

Your Friend,

Alma

EIGHTEEN TODAY!

TODAY IS ABOUT BAILEY BUGS

It only takes a year or two for them to grow up, but they never seem to grow out of your heart. While I'm excited for the life ahead of her, I'm sad she will be "on her own" in a world whose values are upside down.

I can remember those bright blue eyes, with her fly-away blond hair framing her face, looking up at me in the middle of the night as she asked if she could sleep with me and papa. She was afraid of the dark. My little sweetie was not even talking yet. She just patted the bed and climbed in beside me.

Trying to fix her hair for church was always a challenge, until she actually grew hair. I'm not sure just when it changed from blond to brown and then almost black. Well, I guess I remember the almost black change.

Around the time she started talking good she discovered papa kept jelly beans on his desk and she would go in and sneak them when he wasn't in the office. One day he was working at home and she couldn't get to them so she started asking for them. Only she could only say a few words. Her request came out, "Papa, beans. Papa, beans. We finally figured out what she was asking for and Bailey got her beans and Papa was dubed "Papa Beans"...There was the vacation trip to New Mexico with Papa, Nana, Michael, Aunt Connie and Noni to play in the snow and drink hot chocolate and play games in front of the fire place one winter. I guess Bailey and Michael were probably four and five. If you ask Michael he would probably remember Bailey looking under bathroom stalls talking to the lady next to us while she told her life history and why she was in the mountains. And then walking up and talking to an elderly couple in MacDonald's while they tried to eat their breakfast. He might even remember them sitting in the back seat of the van playing while we sped through the country to our vacation. Bailey was the "robber" and we heard her tell Michael, "This is a stick-up, give me all your money and take off all your clothes". Papa nearly drove off the mountain side.Nana would remember her saying the prayer for lunch and it going like this, "God is great, God is good, let us thank Him for our food. By His hands we are fed, thank you Lord for Bailey Redd."Then... if you ask Bailey, she would probably remember sitting on a rock in the middle of the frozen stream behind our vacation rental house watching little snow flakes fall. As we were going back to the house we noticed a couple of ravenous dogs on the bank with their tongues hanging out. Nana very lovingly got her two precious grandchildren by the hands and started walking quickly to the house. As I looked over my shoulder and saw them running after us, probably thinking hurry there goes our dinner" Bailey's hand slipped from mine. Michael had run ahead of us and went under the split rail fence and after I got safely behind it, I encouraged Bailey to "Run, Bailey, run". She some how remembers me dropping her and leaving her for the bait. Now I ask you, would a Nana do that?

We went as high up the snow covered mountain as the car could get and got out to walk further up and Bailey and Michael wanted to make snow angles and slide down the slopes on their bottoms. Michael soon decided it wasn't for him while Bailey whized by and came back for more. We nearly lost her one time in a ditch.

We went though T-ball, soccer, Brownies, making gifts for Christmas parties at school, a season in little theater. I know I've forgotten some things. As she grew older there were the normal school banquets and then high school. That one slipped up on me and nearly took me down. At the end of her sophomore year she made the Cavaliers then all of a sudden she was a senior and lo-and-behold graduated at mid-term.

In January of this year she started college at San Jac and today, today...my Bailey Bugs is eighteen years old.

Bailey honey, I know I have forgotten so many things but all I can see is your smile and your beautiful eyes. I miss scratching you back and making it tickle.

God, thank you for "Bailey Redd"

I Love You

p.s. Bailey, I'm sorry I could not edit the pictures and pull the ones I wanted. Papa Beans has retired for the night so we're stuck with Nana's computer skills, or lack there of...

In The Words Of A Five Year Old

"Ni Hoa"

Some of you might have seen our Hattie's debut on her mommy's blog but I just want to pass it on just in case you haven't.

Hattie is the youngest, for now, daughter of my niece Tricia and her husband Eric. As I've written before, they are in the process of adopting Lydda. Lydda lives in an orphanage in China today, but hopefully, around mid April will live with her new family.

Hattie had to do a poster and oral presentation on another country. Of course she chose China. I'm going to let her share what she has learned of her sister's native country. Hattie...



I've shared Lydda's picture with all of you before, but I want to show you again. I hope and pray these beautiful little eyes will be before you when you go to our Father God tonight and tomorrow morning. In fact, as often as you can, please lift her up. Life for Lydda is not what it is for our 12 month olds here.

satan has been working pretty hard over the last couple days to not only discourage but interrupt the plans for Hattie's sister to come live with her. You know though, you can't keep a five year old down. She doesn't understand lost flyer miles, delayed travel plans, extra charges to authorities, just all the blips on the radar. Here are a few things she has done to "help":
...She drew pictures and had her mom raffle them on her blog

... she worked at their jambalaya dinner sale

... she prays for her every night

... and she (and her sister Emogene - a story for another time) gave their

complete piggy bank savings to "help hurry Lydda up".

Anyway, this is just an introduction to Hattie. I have so many great-nieces and nephews, all with the same loving hearts. I will have to actually count down from my brothers to their kids and then maybe I'll get there. God blessed the three of us, Wayne, Valmond and me with many precious off-spring.

I Love You All
p.s. "Ni Hoa" means "hello" from China, in case you missed that in Hattie's

presentation.

WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU ASK GOD TO SHOW UP?

HE DOES!!!

Well, the dates for the Ladies Retreat we were planning at our church were this past Friday and Saturday. Of course all the details worked themselves out (ha). Anyway all the things I stressed over in an earlier post are history.....pleasant history.

COLORED LENSES GROUP SHOW OFFS

LEADING WORSHIP

We started about 3:00pm setting up the room and organizing the room keys and name tags. I think five ladies plus myself and then, of course, my wonderful hubby, were there working faster than the speed of humans to get it all done. We had three ladies working on the registration table and also putting bags of chocolate goodies in the rooms for each guest, two or three ladies were working on setting up the tables, centerpieces, door prizes and journals, pens and crayons for Friday night. Les was helping bring in sound equipment and Craige, Deborah's husband set it up. (I had nothing to do with sound or music. It took me the whole weekend to figure out how to turn the cordless mic on and off without blowing out ear drums). I was trying to get the last minute things we forgot to ask for (from the hotel) and going over the things I had PLANNED to say.

We started with an ice breaker and I have to admit, it was the first and only time I have been defined by a pig...after drawing our own picture of a pig, the lady in charge of that part began to tell us what each item told us about ourselves; i.e. which way the pig faced, if it was standing or sitting, how long and curly or straight it's tail was. That was really cute. Long story short, mine said I was "direct, aggressive, emotional, a risk taker, didn't like major change" and a couple other things I won't mention. Can anyone see ANY of those adjectives in my character???

We then had about 20 minutes of worship and a friend of mine signed to "Open the Eyes of MY Heart, Lord", a song I have claimed as my plea to God for about twenty years. I cried. Then it was time for me to open and I struggled with my memory. Whether it was emotion or poor memory I can't say. We spent a lot of time enjoying each other, eating, and exploring our Great and awesome God.

For about six weeks I had been asking for clear direction on how to say the things I knew He wanted me to say. We had a very definite struggle on the fact that I would say anything at all for a while, but after thinking about the people He called in scripture to pass on His message...Moses for one, wandered in the desert for 40 years for disobeying and hardening his heart (I SURE don't have 40 years to catch on) and then Jonah checked into the "Belly of the Big Fish" hotel for three days and I don't even do Holiday Inn Express very well, I said "okay, You lead Lord". At that point, He did.

We spent the rest of the night and Saturday mostly on personal introspective communication with God and seeking His guidance for our lives. It was called "Colored Lenses" and dealt with our prejudices of scripture, or if we even believed they were true, for us. How the choices we make in our lives color our belief that God is big enough to deal with them and still save us. Most of the ladies said it was different from what they have done in the past and were pleased they came. If and when we do another one depends on many things, but mostly on His guidance. Believe me though when I say "When we ask Him to, He does show up", and in a BIG way.

Thanks to all who helped with the week end, most especially, my Father God, my Abba, and my Lord.

I Love You All

WHAT LIFE WAS LIKE BEFORE CELL PHONES

There was a time I refused to have a cell phone. That wasn't too many years ago. Well, not as I count years. Probably it was about eight I guess.

I can remember.. sitting in a restaurant and actually talking to the people you were with instead of the one who couldn't make it...not having to listen to the person behind you in line at the store threaten her kids (and wonder if she really thought they cared. What was she going to do, reach through the phone?)...being at work and knowing the person looking at me was talking to me...leaving the house and knowing the kids couldn't find you until you were ready.

Today after lunch though I remembered...walking the floor at 2a.m. because a child wasn't home yet (I guess that works both ways)...being stranded in traffic and not having a way to let anyone know...being lost coming back from a Christmas Around The World party and being afraid to knock on someones door to use the phone...running out of gas...not being able to find your parents when you want to...

I remembered all this because Les and I went to church in separate cars this morning and I forgot my cell phone. Soooo, we left church in separate cars, and met for lunch. When we left the restaurant I went first and was cruising down Clear Lake City Blvd. When I crossed the tracks I looked back and he wasn't behind me. I drove slowly for another few blocks then turned on my hazard lights and barely rolled. Finally just before I got to I-45 I turned around and started back, watching for him. Sure enough, there he went, right past me going the opposite way. We saw each other about the same time and I had to U-turn and go back. Anyway, by the time I pulled up in the driveway he was about to back out to go look for me.

If there is a moral to this story I guess it would be, keep your cell phone with you and turn it off if you don't want to be found!!

Love You All

A DAY IN THE LIFE OF INSURANCE DEPENDENCY

--------------WHAT IS THEIR PLAN, REALLY?----------------

Brand Necessary vs. Generic

I have spent the last five months fighting "the system" and guess what? I'm loosing.

I feel a little like Ziggy, "It's just you and me against the world (insurance company), and frankly I think we're going to get creamed". I suppose in most cases, even for me, generic drugs are a blessing. This time though the generic does not work and they don't care.

In October a patch came out to replace the one I have been using for almost ten years for blood pressure, and it cost us nothing. No co-pay at all vs $100.00. So, what am I complaining about? It's a patch and does not stick to my tough hide. The process that has evolved has turned into a fiasco.

Before we found that out I had to have my doctor write a script for the generic so I could get it filled, for nothing. Then for the next two months I paid nothing for my blood pressure patch, but my blood pressure was staying around 190/90 because the medication did not stay stuck. The insurance company said "move it to a less 'exposed' part of your body". Okay, I won't tell y'all just where all we tried that patch, but it still didn't stay stuck.

At that point I got really upset with the insurance person on the other end of the phone and told her to pass on to "whom ever won't let her do anything about the situation", that as their insured I had two options. Have a stroke and be hospitalized for weeks, costing them a little more than my co-pay, or opt for "the public option", whatever that turned out to be. Then I was on a roll and said, "maybe there is a third option, which would behoove you guys. That would be to just choose pain meds until my blood pressure took care of the whole situation".

In January I gave up and paid the now increased co-pay ($131.00) because I refused the generic. My doctor and I both wrote appeal letters to the insurance company stating "medically necessary" and they have 45 days to respond with their ruling.

Well, today I went to pick up my February refill and it had gone up to $156.00 because now not only do we have to pay the non-preferred cost, but the difference between the "market price" of the drug, and the generic price. Whatever that means. I guess processing the name brand must be a little like dragging the coast of Main for lobster or processing caviar. It cost about the same.

So, what happened today? I called the doctor again and asked to have a script faxed to the drug store stating name brand only based on medical necessity. I won't have it for today, which I should have, but maybe by tomorrow evening after four pm I will.

I know people who work for the insurance company are just that, people. I try really hard not to shoot the messenger since they are probably a little like the guy in Custer's battle with the Apache. They know they are going to get slaughtered, probably from both ends. (don't ask where that gruesome analogy came from, not today).

Besides all the conversation between the pharmacy, me, the insurance company (two different people) and the doctor's office, I had Hunter running around spilling his coke and talking to all the people waiting to get their medicines filled. He just climbed up beside this older man and started shaking his hand and telling him, who knows what? I'm sure the man didn't know nor did I. I guess only Hunter knows for sure.

Maybe none of you feel any better but I think I do. Hope you all have a good evening.
Love ya,
Nana

"YOU ARE FREE"

WHAT DOES IT MEAN TO BE FREE

    On the way home from picking up my grandson from kindergarten, we stopped at a convenience store to "borrow" their restroom and purchase the obligatory Diet Coke. You never want to go into a store to use their facilities without buying a $1.00 drink, right?

    Well, the restroom was occupied. I stood, not so patiently, outside the door. Obviously, the person inside intended to take every second of their time, after all, they had probably done their own "potty dance" waiting in line. 

    I was about to knock on the door and ask if I could have just a couple seconds and then would gladly return the room to them. Just before I knocked, the door opened and a small child who looked vaguely familiar came out. The door slammed shut behind him and he stood there looking up at me as if I should know what he needed to do next. There really wasn't a lot of time for six-year-old instructions so I waved him to the front and mumbled something about picking out some candy.  I'm a pretty reasonable grand-motherly type but there is only one reason you risk a pubic bathroom, so I bolted inside. As the door slammed behind me I realized I had just given my grandson free rein of the candy section.

    Finishing as quickly as possible, I washed my hands and dried them on my jeans. No paper towels of course. I've always felt the bottom of my jeans must surely be cleaner than the napkins sitting on the sink, right? In less dire straits, I headed to the front.

    As I approached the register to pay for my drink, there he was, scoping out the candy beside the register. I'm not sure the lady behind the counter could even see the top of his head. 

    I watched, eyes wide, as his hand went in his pocket. Still, it never occurred to me to question him to see if he had anything "unpaid for" lurking inside.

As we left the store, being the grandmother I was, I started asking what was in his pocket.

    Kneeling in front of my wide-eyed grandson I began asking questions and asked him to show me the candy. As he pulled it out, tears formed in his eyes. I could tell my little guy was confused and was trying to say he hadn't meant to take it and didn't know how it got into his pocket. I knew how badly he wanted it but knew he needed to learn a very hard lesson.  them came back in. The mom said to the lady behind the counter, "We have something to tell you". The little girl looked up and said, "I'm sorry I,... Umm I didn't mean to,... well I'm sorry I almost took your candy". By this time the lady's husband was standing behind the counter with both hands on top of it. They both looked down at her and the man said, "YOU ARE FREE. YOU ARE FREE, YOU CAN GO". He gave her a big smile and she wiped her eyes with her little chubby hand and smiled back. As they were leaving the store the last time, the little girl looked up at her mommy and said "I don't feel guilty anymore"!

Even I had to wipe my eyes. It could have been me, or you, or anyone with children or grandchildren. If we could free others from their guilt, we ourselves would feel free just like the little girl did. I picture her skipping down the sidewalk in front of her house singing joyfully.

BEING FREE MEANS "NOT FEELING GUILTY ANYMORE"

Good night and sleep in peace.

A HEART THAT IS PURE

A LOVE THAT REACHES ACROSS THE OCEANS

..."religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this:
look after orphans and widows in their distress and keep oneself
from being polluted by the world." Jas. 1:27
What can "keep oneself from being polluted by the world", and "looking after orphans and widows", have to do with each other? Maybe the prevailing idea that it isn't "our responsibility" to look after helpless humans made in God's image (regardless of parental origin) is pollution from the world?

Friends, I have come face to face with a precious baby girl, a child with
beautiful brown eyes and chubby cheeks whose parents could not raise her and give her the care she needed to survive in a country that does not place value on human life. Rather than kill this child, they loved her for a month before making the heart wrenching decision to leave her on the steps of an orphanage thousands of miles across the world. God's world.


My niece and her husband and their girls have been waiting for a "baby
girl" to become theirs for nearly four years. During those years they worked extra jobs, gave up things you and I expect as our rights, learned things about living for someone else rather than for ourselves, shared their dreams with others and at times wondered if that space in their hearts and home would ever be filled with the laughter and patter of little feet. The feet of the little girl left on the steps of an orphanage by birth parents whose circumstances forbade them watching her grow into a young woman.


Tricia and Eric have saved thousands of dollars toward bringing their baby Lydda (age 11 months now, soon to be a year old) home to live in a family who has been loving her and waiting to share a "pure and faultless" religion
with a child who might never have known a loving Father God. They are still short on the money needed to accomplish this by several thousand dollars. While I'm not asking you to send money to a family you do not know, I am asking you to lift this need up to the Father of all children in prayer.

They need money for:
...three visas and passports
...airline tickets for two to the country to get Lydda
...and for three to bring them all home
...hotel expenses for their two week stay
...$5,000 to pay the orphanage when they receive her

Friends who have gone through this journey with them are helping with fundraisers and auctions and by donating proceeds from various other efforts. They are donating airline miles, etc. If there is any thing you can help with, please let us know. I am going to post Lydda's picture and give you a blog site to visit so you can meet Eric, Tricia and their family.

"and now these three remain: Faith, Hope, and Love. But the greatest of these is LOVE". I Cor. 13:13

Meet Lydda. She has already made a huge place in my heart. I love you so, sweet Lydda.

Dee Dee

www.thejoysofmommy.blogspot.com

Planning a Retreat

??????????HAVE I LOST MY MIND??????????

How many of you would even think about planning a retreat for women? That's what I thought. I HAVE lost my mind. Of course I've been called a lot of things in my short life time, but "The Brightest Crayon in the Box" hasn't been one of them.

Last summer I accepted a volunteer position, Women's Ministry Leader, at our church. We only have about 125-150 women ranging from young mommies to great-grandmothers in our congregation. There hasn't been anyone "in charge" (like anyone is ever in charge of that many women) for about five years. They really are a sweet group of women and are always ready to lend a hand, at least until you start planning a retreat for them, that is.

So, I have one lady helping me plan this retreat for the last weekend in February. She will be in charge of music and worship. That, my friends is a VERY good thing since I don't know a note, from a bar, from a staff, and would not know how to put any of them together, unless the staff would write a note to someone in the bar. No?, I thought not. I have a lady who will do the layout of the program and one who will print and assemble name tags.

I have done enough retreat planning in our former church and on my job for fifteen years one would think I could do it with my eyes closed. Here are just a few of the obstacles I've faced in one week.

*Made a typo on the poster I put up in the restrooms and foyer

*Sent the info to the church secretary to post in the bulletin -

cost not designated as per person on it.

*Had to call the ladies already signed up and explain cost

*One lady told me she called the hotel and they don't have queen beds

*Sent out e-mails to ask for help on different things - no responses>br>

All except the last one is fixable. Everyone seems to be excited and looking

forward to the weekend. I guess though they think chocolates will put themselves in the guest rooms, the rooming list will appear out of thin air, the program will be written by God himself, the small group questions will be pre-printed and someone from the hallway will lead the groups, the chef will just know what food we want to serve, centerpieces will be donated by every one else except them, a prayer walk is something made out of concrete, decorations jump on the tables and the props are purchased on-line. Oh, did I mention we will need about 20 dozen cookies with affirmations written on them. I think the biggest mis-conception though, is that this Women's Ministry Leader has it under control. Anyone out there want to be the MC? If you do, you have to think of something to say all by yourself.

I know this sounds crazy, and it just might be, (it did to him too) but I keep hearing the words "remember Gideon" (thanks Tricia for the reminder I had to look up the story and read it again)...long story short, God accomplished with 300 men what Gideon had assembled 30,000 men to do. Of course, Gideon was defeating a nation, I'm planning a women's retreat. Gideon, where are your 30,000??

Anyway, I'm sure on February 28Th, the day after the retreat, I will have had all the help I needed. I am looking forward to it. Anyone out there, ladies, who wants to attend a well though out and semi organized retreat, let me know.

I think I say all this to say I'm having a blast, and a few sleepless nights!

To God Be The Glory

Just A Few Memories

.......................From My Heart To Yours.......................

In choosing to write this, I have had to think over events long past and by some, maybe best forgotten. I don't, however choose to forget a man who has lived just weeks short of 92 years on this earth.

On the lives he touched, and in most cases changed, finger prints were left to be read like one might read a book. Though all the stories would be the same. 'Live life, love people and serve God".

His story started with his wife "Dot" (or granny to the family), and his kids and extended family, and traveled with him to church, and through out many counties and even states.

I remember:

... him driving an old blue truck

... a rambler with the back floor board out

(and him spitting out the front window and it flying in the back window)

... holding "little Wayne" in the front room at the old house

... a green pick up with a dash so full of papers he couldn't find anything

... calling home to see what granny needed from the store

...him with "toodles"(granny's little dog) at the old house

... chopping and stacking wood

... his face when Jonathon started to lead "Elvira" in church

... reaching out to the "younger generation" RJ and David Hutton

at the "new house"

I don't remember:

... him getting angry

... spanking a grand child

... loosing his temper

... stopping at a red light

I know there are many people who saw him every day and remember many stories and adventures they shared with RJ Redd, they are worth a mint. Please remember and share these memories, keeping the legacy alive for his family and yours. You will be continually blessed.

To my sister-in-law Linda, her sister and brothers, my nieces and nephews and their families, and to my own children... my heart goes out to you. He was a special person.

May His Life Continue To Glorify God Through Each Of You
..