Growin' Old Gracelessly

A TIME OF PEACE

2011-07-31T08:28:00.000-07:00

Early in the morning, just after sun-up. The kids are all sleeping and I step outside on the back porch. We've been living on the pastor's ranch for about a year I guess. I look out over the fields of green beans and pick up the hose to fill the tub. In front of me are two generations of laundry cleaning. The CC Mira Mesa brought us a brand new front-loading machine a couple of months ago. Next to it stands an old wringer washer, the kind my mother told me about when I was young. I love that machine.

As the tub fills, I sort the whites out first to wash. I pour in liquid detergent and bleach and start agitating. Dirtiest of whites is slapped wet on the concrete scrub-board for extra detail. Socks are the most scrubbed both with a brush and a rolling motion up and down the board. I have to be careful not to scrape my knuckles raw. Then back into the tub they go to finish with the other whites.

The process of pulling the clothes out and through the wringer is peaceful tedium for me. I push and pull the clothing through and drop it into a deep sink full of clear clean water, then step to the side to push the wringer over to the sink. I pull and rinse the clothes before wringing them again to be dropped into a basket for hanging.

There is something so calming about standing there in my bare feet to hang the clothes on the line. There are no people noises yet, just the birds chittering in the few trees, a horse nickering under the olive tree and the few dogs run, noses down searching for the leavings of yesterday's meals. My face is once again turned to the fields as I hang. I can see the fig tree down the way and off in the distance is the pastor's greenhouse.

It is good clean work. I feel satisfied as I finish the first load of the day. The towels are already agitating in the washer. It is the moment of peace I have searched for before the children rise and workers arrive. I have no decisions to make at this moment, no boo-boos to tend, no tears to wipe.

My time. My place. God's peace.

Oh, I don't know . . .

2010-11-15T10:04:00.000-08:00

I haven't posted anything since June sometime. I've been lurking on other journals, but have not commented much. This morning I have been reading Donna's blog. A lot of my memories flooded in as I read hers. Go figure. City, suburbs or country, those of us who grew up in the 50's seem to have a collective memory. Here are some of my memories:

I was born in a 10-bed hospital in a small suburb of Los Angeles. By the time I was born, my parents had already separated. Women who got divorced back then were the subject of much scrutiny. But I didn't know that. I loved my mom. She took phenomenal care of her four girls.

I remember that we had the first television on the block. It was and awesome thing. At about 4 years old, I thought that the people lived in there and when we turned it back on, they would just start again where we left off. The television was in a very large cabinet, with doors you would close when you turned it off. It had a round-ish screen, 2 or 3 channels, and a really fuzzy picture. I remember seeing an Indian head when the stations had nothing more for us to view. I never knew that my grandparents had given us that wonderful box.

What a tender double memory I got while reading about cereal on Donna's blog. The first and most recent memory came as she posted that Cheerios was the common name for all cereals back then. In Mexico in the 80's and 90's, I learned that for them all cereals were called Corn Flakes. You could choose your poison, but it was still corn flakes. Back when I was small, I remember having Shredded Wheat a lot. My mother would offer one or two of the barrel-shaped pieces on top of which we put sugar and milk. We also ate a lot of oatmeal. Mom would cook the oatmeal with raisins while I stood on a chair to watch the "fishes" come to the surface. With all the instant foods these days, the kids don't get to watch this particular phenomenon. A shame, really.

I climbed trees a lot. When mom couldn't find me, she'd send the girls out to look in the trees. Once, our dog pulled me out of a tree. That hurt and mom got rid of him. Behind the second house I remember living in, there was a great big walnut tree. I loved it. I could take a book and my pillow to sit in one of the crooks for hours. Sometimes I napped there. I climbed trees and rocks and trails until about 20 years ago when my body started to limit me. I would love to do it still.

My mom didn't go to work until I was in school for a year or two. I would come home from school and stop by the pharmacy fountain where she worked. She would make me a cherry phosphate sometimes. Oh! What a delicious treat. When she went to work in an office, I would come home, change my clothes in the laundry room(refrigerator there, too) and go to the neighbor's house. Since I had my own key to the little room, I thought I was independent and that Becky's mom wasn't a babysitter. I think my mom paid her five hard-earned dollars a week not to babysit.

I loved that time of my life. We were not allowed to become television addicts. We played outside, climbed trees or sat with dolls to pretend we were grown-ups, even played board and card games out on the patio. We had a card game called Presidents, played slap-jack, war and even monopoly. Becky's brother always wanted to be paid with those "bluebell 50's". It was a magical time. We were all very healthy and happy. It would be wonderful if we could bring some of that play here to this time for our children and grandchildren. Just sayin' . . .

Blessings,

Sisters Day

2010-06-11T09:36:00.001-07:00

Yesterday, my sisters (me, Sylvia, Charlotte, Sharon) and I were able to get together for the first time in six years. As we grow older, this seems to be more important each time. As you can see, I am the baby. I think we all look pretty good for being in the over-60 crowd.

Today is Sylvia's birthday. She's the oldest and says she is going to live to be 120. I believe it. She and her husband still get around on a Honda Goldwing motorcycle. The amazing part is that just a few months ago, Sylvia was thrown clear of that bike, breaking ribs, collar bone and shattering her lower leg/ankle. She followed her therapy relentlessly and is here visiting from Florida. They have a motor home and the bike to get around.

My sister Charlotte lives about 3 hours away in Arizona. Her husband races and builds stock cars. She is a breast cancer survivor and she's the one who spoiled me the most when I was a little kid. I hadn't seen her in 6 years either.

Sharon lives here in Nevada and with her husband raises and adopts foster children. It was when we came here to see the adoption of her son Chance that we decided to buy this home. Sharon and I are closest in age.

We all had lunch together yesterday followed by a photo session. The photographer was nice enough to snap the picture above with my camera. There was a lot of reminiscing going on. We just don't do this often enough. Travel is expensive and even at our ages, our lives are full. Praise God that we were able to have this very special day. I needed it very much. We kept in touch after the last visit, but e-mail and phone calls are not nearly the same as a full-on hug with your very own sister.

As my two oldest sisters travel back home, I am praying journey mercies for them and long, full lives until we meet again.

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY

2010-05-08T17:24:00.000-07:00

I've only posted to this blog 8 times in the last year. Tomorrow is Mother's Day again. I want to wish my daughter Heather, daughters-in-law Krissy, Shaylin, Michelle, and Dixie, granddaughters Candace, Cassie and Cassandra all a happy day and tell you all how proud of you I am. I love all my children and grandchildren so much.

I miss my mom terribly at this time of year, more than at Thanksgiving, Christmas and her birthday. I have no regrets. I loved her well and was a pretty good daughter. If you love your mama too, please tell her often. I didn't know how much I would miss her until she was gone. It's never too late to re-open the door. Even if she hates what you have done or are doing in your life, she loves you more than you will ever know until you are a mom or a parent.

LORD, please bless all the Moms out there.

Blessed by God

2010-05-03T14:58:00.000-07:00

We are so blessed! Last Friday, we finally signed the papers on our new home and moved in. We never expected at this time of our lives to buy a home. This is a young couple's dream come true in their golden years. We are exhausted from moving, but so thrilled to have our own home. Rather than post a few pictures, I've made another slide show with April's progress on the home, our signing at escrow, etc. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I enjoyed making it.

There are so many things to do when you purchase a newly constructed home. We had no idea how complicated it could be and the delays that could happen. We were truly disappointed when the closing date was moved by about 4 weeks. We moved here to watch the house go up, but staying in a hotel/suites was tough to say the least. Praise God we were able to make it for nearly 3 months in that tiny place. We were always anxious for news. Our real estate agent, Gaby tried very hard to keep us informed, but with the sales office here, mortgage in Colorado and title company in Arizona, there were a lot of glitches. I have to admit that my patience was tried.

At the "suites" we met a lot of people who were as we, waiting to move to a new home or apartment. There were others more transient and some who were downright scary. By the grace of God we were blissfully untouched by the goings on and the staff there was really helpful. We made friends with a real nice couple from Arizona. They were able to find a wonderful mobile home to live in.

And here we are, living what looked 6 years ago like an impossible dream. Back then we were readying ourselves to leave Mexico and retire. Rob came back to the U.S. in June 2004, Andrea in July and I came in August. We had no place to live except for the kindness of our friend Hank, who later rented us the little house we called home for 5 years. On to the new adventure!!

Home Away

2010-02-09T16:15:00.001-08:00

This is the surprise of a lifetime for me. The construction project you see will be our new home. We never thought to move from here or purchase anywhere, and now LOOK.

In November, Rob and I made a trip to Las Vegas to be present of our nephew's adoption. While there, we decided to look at homes. We fell in love with the model of this home and to our great surprise, we could afford to buy it! Much paperwork later, our new home is coming together.

We knew that we had to move out of this rental house. We live above a body shop in an industrial area. My breathing caused several trips to the hospital ER. The humidity here is not good. California has always been my home state. Other than Mexico, I've not lived any large period of time away from southern CA. What a change the desert will be! Believe it or not, we are ready for the change.

So much has happened since I last posted. The miracle of regaining a son in my life was stupefying. Since then, he and his daughter were reunited. She came to SoCal from Oklahoma last month, bringing her 5 month-old daughter with her. What a privilege for me to hold my great-granddaughter in my arms! I got to babysit for a whole day. It was wonderful. I feel truly blessed by the Lord.

Do You Believe in Miracles?

2009-08-09T18:29:00.000-07:00

I do! This is a picture of myself and son Peter. My daughter and I have been searching for him since his father died over 12 years ago. As you may remember, we found Peter's little girl (now 23 and a mom herself) not too long ago. I asked for your prayers to find him. They have worked!

It's been a whirlwind of phone calls, activity, joy and more since we found Peter. His daughter Cassie found his name on facebook and asked me to check it out. I wish I could tell you how many "Peter"'s have gotten an email from me. They were never him. I wrote and waited to be disappointed again. He sent his address and phone number! He lives just over an hour away from here. On July 31st I was able to talk to him for the first time in nearly 17 years. Today, he drove to our home and we had lunch together.

Our God is the God of restoration. In the last 10 days, he has restored a father to his daughter, a stepmom to her son and a lifetime of memories to each of us. Maybe next time he comes, I'll let him talk.

Born Again American

2009-07-27T18:21:00.001-07:00

Born Again American

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A Vacation Retreat

2009-07-12T15:03:00.000-07:00

I've been away for a while. I think it's mostly apathy. Blogging here is so different than what we were used to in J-Land. It's a chore to come here sometimes and I used to get alerts when my friends posted. I notice there is a lot less posting going on . . .

It's a beautiful sunny day here in Ventura. Where other localities have high temperatures, we have an ocean breeze. I've been around to other towns and a few other states and I just can't imagine a better climate. I guess we will live here until our landlord sells the property (like that will happen soon in this economy!).

Just about two weeks ago, my friend came up from Mexico to make a trip to Northern California. She was going to be in the area where my daughters live and she invited me for the ride-along. It didn't take me long to get packed. I haven't seen Andrea since June last year. It was such a great trip. Below are a few of the pictures I took in a slide show.

As we traveled north, the temperature changed dramatically from cool to very hot. I am unused to such fluctuations to say the least. Thank the Lord for the invention of air conditioning! We ended up, after a night in a motel, approximately 900 miles from home at an altitude of over 4,300 feet. Although the temperature was high there, in the 90's, we were surrounded by trees, had 10' ceilings and a lovely mountain breeze.

The visit with Andrea was nothing short of God-given. It was a wonderful time of reflection for us. Our hostess' home was like a retreat. We spent much time discussing our faith. It's a little hard for her now because her sister doesn't attend church. In a letter she wrote to me on my computer, Andrea says this:

"Well I hope that people get the great impression of Who and What God is and how great He is and what he can do, that may God bless every one else. Well the reason I'm writing this is so that people might start realizing that God is alive and that this may start blessing every one else. "

She speaks of the healing that the Lord can do in our lives if we only ask and pray. She wishes that her daddy will be healed from all the health problems he has. She knows that God can do it. Ahhh, simple faith!

I also ask for prayer for my Rob. His back surgery went well and he is healing there. The dementia is getting worse and it's hard for me to cope sometimes. I forget that he has it and expect him to remember a conversation we had earlier. He doesn't realize that he is affected at all and still sees himself as he was. I still see him that way, too. I am deeply saddened by the changes in him. He's too young for this. I'm too young. I guess I need prayer as well, huh?

I hope you enjoy the slide show as much as I enjoyed my trip. Personal time has become very important for me. I love you all and as always you are in my prayers.

Memorial Day

2009-05-25T13:25:00.000-07:00

A blessed Memorial Day to you all. I am in a place right now where Memorial Day really hits home. Rob had his surgery Friday at the VA hospital in Los Angeles. I am staying at Fisher House, a guest house for the families of veterans. Since I have been here, one veteran has died, the family taking home precious little save the memory of a man who served his country well.

Across the street is a National Cemetery. From Rob's room we watched the WWII fighter planes fly over during the morning's ceremonies. Here at Fisher House there is solemn talk of disease and dying and today ~ of those who fought for our freedoms.

Today I want to remember those freedoms. I may speak out as I please. I may worship as I please. I have the right to bear arms. There are so many more. I remember well, because I have lived in a 3rd world country where these freedoms are not available. With all that is happening now in this country, I do not know how long those freedoms will survive. Will we be the last generation to know them fully? Will our children and grandchildren accept the loss of them? Will they fight as our fathers and great-grandfathers did? I wish I knew.

I am not afraid of what will happen. I know where I am going when I leave this earth. I am blessed right now to know my individual rights and to have met so many brave men and women who have fought to protect my rights. If you haven't taken time yet today, please thank a veteran. Pray for those still serving around the world and take your hat off for a moment to remember those who died.

My veteran is safe today. He is well taken care of. The surgery went well and they expect him to recover. The feeling has come back to his legs, praise the Lord. I am grateful that the VA health care system is here for him. And for me. We still don't know how long we will have to stay here. It may be another few days or a couple of weeks. I'm thankful for the volunteers who built this guest house for us to stay in so we can be here for our loved ones. I believe their recovery will be faster because we are here.

I think about and pray for you all. I have my computer here, but have not taken much time to write letters or post. My job right now is to be here for Rob.

Blessings in Christ,

Away for a few . . .

2009-05-20T15:22:00.000-07:00

I really haven't had time to do much writing or even thinking lately. Rob is going to have surgery in two days. We have been back and forth to Los Angeles several times, to the "local" clinic a couple of times and are now ready to go spend time in L.A. while the doctors at the VA hospital there make an attempt to repair his badly damaged lower back. Without the surgery, he will be unable to walk very soon. We'd appreciate your prayers for this.

So I'll probably be away from my computer a lot in the next couple of weeks. I am taking the laptop and smart phone with me, but don't know how much time I will be able to devote to anything but my sweetheart.

When I have time, I will be writing about my grand-parents. I never had any that was called "grandma" or "grandpa". On my mom's side, they were Boosie and Dearie. On my father's side . . .Spring. Oh the stories I can tell about them! I want to share them so I don't forget and so that the legacy will be out there in cyberspace for my children and grand-children.

Speaking of grand-children. My daughter has located my grand-daughter Cassie! Last I saw her, she was 5 years old and she and I tried to run the numbers of my credit card at Wal-Mart in Tulsa. That was 17 years ago. She's all grown up now, has a beautiful son and is pregnant with a little girl due in August. I am so blessed! If you weren't counting . . . that makes a total of 15 grandchildren and 3 (2/3) great-grandchildren. She was eager to be back in our lives and we are thrilled to have contact again after so many years.

Blessings and love to all, Penny

2009-05-10T10:25:00.000-07:00

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!!

I usually make a tribute to my mom on Mother's Day, but I recently did that here. So this time I am going to talk about some special moms and Mother's Day itself.

Mother's Day is often sad for me. I miss my mom. I miss my kids and grandkids. Most of the time, I don't even get calls. That changed this morning. My son Robert woke me up with a call. I love that. He's my son by birth, but he has an adoptive mom as well. I know how very much he loves her. Then my daughter Heather called to wish me well. She was getting ready for her day. She and granddaughter Ashley gave their love. Rob bought me a card and gift. I'm not his mom, but he loves the mom in me. The day is going well.

My daughter Heather is a wonderful mom. She has 5 kids of her own and is raising her baby sister. When she got pregnant with her daughter Ashley, I was worried. She (as I had been) was an unmarried teen. The baby was born premature. Heather rode the bus 20 miles each way to be at the hospital with her baby, to bring her breast milk and finally to breast feed her for the first time. She brought Ashley home and never looked back. I was amazed how well she did taking care of her. I am still amazed. Or is it awe? I don't have to agree with her to see that she has done/is doing a great job. Ashley is 24 years old now and there are Kailani (20), Paige (18), Zachariah (14), Isaiah (10) and baby sister Andrea (15). I know its not easy, but she doesn't often complain. She loves her job as a mom. I am so proud of her.

My daughter-in-law Krissy is an awesome mom as well. I haven't had the privilege of watching her raise Athena, but I have seen the results in pictures and videos. I hope someday soon I will be able to watch her in action. I love you, Krissy!

This next is not a mom . . . today is also my son John's 40th birthday. Many of you know him. He was J-Land's blogfather for quite some time and writes science fiction novels as well as many other things. I'm proud of him. He's a stay-at-home dad.

Mother's Day in Mexico is always May 10th. Our celebrations here can't compare with what happens there. I have some experience with that. Although May 10th is the day, each school has to have the celebration for its mothers. This means you go to the kindergarten, grade school, middle school and high school. The celebrations are great. A full meal is served, kids do skits or poems, etc. There is always a corsage for mom and a gift made by her child. The church also celebrates moms, serving a full meal, corsages and gifts. Then of course starting at around midnight, you begin to hear this song: Las Mananitas.
I can't figure out how to get the tilde ~ over the n. When we lived on the hill before moving to the ranch, Rob left the window to our bedroom open. I went to sleep, but at some point I heard the neighbors playing the song over and over. Then there came a knock at our window. The youth from our church were there with flowers and candles to sing the song. By the time you get through a week of Mother's Day in Mexico, if you never felt appreciated as a mom before . . . you will. So many of our children had no mom around to give their gift to, so I was the privileged one. I will never forget.

I hope all you moms out there click on the link to the song . . . it's for you because you are special. God made you special. Even when you think you've messed it all up ~ you are still special. No one but you could have given your child life. Praise God for you.

Dreamer

2009-04-26T12:45:00.000-07:00

Honestly, I didn't want to go this morning. I am tired, my back and legs are in pain and I didn't even get up for church. I went yesterday and she didn't show up. But the gal on the phone said she really wanted to see me in person.

I guess I have to give a little background. The call was for a deaf girl. We have watched her life since we moved here nearly 5 years ago. Her street name is Dreamer. When we first saw her, she was a wild drug user. She had wild red hair and we nicknamed her "Big Red". I felt a tug on my heart every time I saw her. About 2 1/2 years ago, I started to communicate with her. I remembered some sign language and could finger-spell. I bought her food a few times, careful not to give her cash. Then she disappeared for a while.

A little over a year ago, I began to see her again. I stopped her on the street one day to see if she needed something. She told me she had enough and thanked me. She looked a little different. I didn't know it that day, but she had been in jail for heroin use. She came out on a methadone program and her life has been changing for the better.

I wish my words could paint a picture of the girl I've come to know over the last 4 years. She's about 5'9" tall, light red hair . . . there's a small black tattoo over her right eyebrow. She has high cheekbones, a wide bow mouth and green eyes. I suppose because she is deaf, her eyes and face are extremely animated and expressive. I've seen her sometimes walking down the street talking to herself in sign language. In the last year we have become very close. I've always prayed for her, but lately I have been speaking more with her about the Lord.

On Friday, Rob and I had to go to the VA hospital in West Los Angeles. He had an epidural injection. While we were waiting for him to go in, I received a call from Dreamer's friend, asking if I could go see her. I told her it would have to wait until Saturday morning at 10 am. I knew I would be tired after the 5 hours of driving back and forth to L.A.

Yesterday, I went to meet her, but she didn't show up. I was burned out from all the driving and my pain and little put out. Rob was very needy yesterday as well. I'm not the very best when I have a lot of stress. My pain level goes up and my patience goes down. I just wanted to sleep. I did sleep a good deal of the afternoon then all night and until about 9:30 this morning. At 10 am the call came. I started to say no, was shaking my head no, but said yes.

Here is a bit of what happened. Dreamer invited me to go with her to see the movie "Solo" on Thursday after her check came in. I agreed which is hard for me to do when I'm worn out. I just can't think ahead. Then we talked for a while, signing, spelling and writing. I want to share part of what she wrote, " Guess what? I won't be stay alive for no longer in 10 years. Remembered I told you about my used to be addict - heroin. I have Hep C"

"I went to see Dr already she'll put me into treatment. The medicine will help but no cures for Hep C. I'm scared. I don't want to die."

"I have no ideas where I'll go when I die, I means in hell or in heaven. Well, I'm a good person. I believe in God and I love Jesus. I want to go home with Jesus, but does God decide?"

I asked her if she had ever prayed to ask Jesus into her heart. She shook her head no. I asked if she wanted to. She looked straight at me without answering. I told her that Jesus died for her sins and would forgive all if she just asked. She nodded okay. I signed and spelled the prayer and in what throaty voice she has, she repeated them. I had tears rolling down my face. When I looked at her, so did she.

Ok. So I didn't make it to church this morning, but the Lord gave me an assignment anyway. Isn't God good?

You are all in my prayers daily. Please pray for wisdom and understanding for my dear friend Dreamer.

News & Tidbits

2009-04-02T07:34:00.000-07:00

I got a call from the VA! It seems they are going to start "homemaker" services for Robert immediately. The woman asked me if my husband was receiving 100% and I said yes 70% service-connected and 30% unemployability which was equal to 100%. She said she was glad I knew this. The homemaker will come 4 hours per week, will wash his clothes, vacuum, do dishes and even go shopping if necessary. They are also going to send physical therapy to us. The lady who called was wonderful. She explained the ins and outs of the service and that the homemaker is an indefinite assignment. I thank you all for your prayers. The first lady at social work told us it would be at least 3 months before any action would be taken and that we would be turned down. Isn't God good? I asked for and received prayer and this has happened so fast it makes my head swim.

My mom told me when I was young that my first option should be prayer. Of course, being human, I end up praying when all else fails. I wish I hadn't said that. I could erase it. I pray every day, more than once a day. Here's the rub: I forget to pray for me. Rob and I prayed about asking for help from the VA. The truth be told, I have been stressed out about all of this. Rob's back is really bad, his ankle needs to be fused and now he can't drive. He used to do a lot of the housework, especially while I was down for so long. I knew it was my turn. But the responsibility is a bit overwhelming. We got wise counsel from Tom and Sharon, from Mary and from Manny. We might have found our way through the bureaucracy without help. Probably would have. But by then I would be burned out. Thank God for good friends and relatives! You guys are the best.

I just had a chance to talk to Tom and hear that he's been able to visit his wife Sharon in the hospital daily. The recovery from heart surgery is slow and I want to ask again that you pray for her. I would like some love to go out to Sharon. She's a wonderful lady. Go on over to his blog to give him some encouragement as well. He'll tell Sharon you visited.

You are all in my prayers and I am so blessed to know you and read about your lives. Until next time, be blessed.

Counting my blessings . . .

2009-03-31T13:44:00.000-07:00

I figured I'd better count my blessings today because my patience has surely been tried today. First the blessings:

1.I have the love of my Lord Jesus Christ. 2. I am married to the man I love and he still knows who I am. 3. We have family who love us. 4. We have a place to live, food to eat, a car to drive, and a few friends who care. 5. We can pay our bills on our fixed income. We have our needs met and even some of our desires. 6. I am walking and moving better than I have in 2 years. 7. One of us can still drive. This can go on and on.

NOW. We went to the VA facility 60 miles from here to speak to social work about the services we will be needing now that Rob will have to have surgery, can't drive, etc. The other VA facility is also over 50 miles one way. UGH! We had to wait of course. They can be late, but we can't. When we finally got in to see the social worker (nice gal, by the way) and told her our needs, she asked if Rob were rated 100%. That means is his disability completely service-connected? The VA has always said no, but we disagree. We had to answer that. Then she told us the services were not available if he were less than 100%. UGH! She said to go try to increase the percentage (VA says most is service-connected, but some is unemployability = 100% ~ go figure) and try again.

I don't give up that easily. Poor Rob tried to slow me down, but I kept talking. I told her I was going to have to insist that we request the services now. His list of diagnosis's was on the screen in front of her. There are 9 or 10 different problems there. I said I knew that we had a right to appeal any negative decision and that I wanted it in the system now. She started to say something negative and I asked her again to put in our request. Rob was nearly apoplectic! He's saying, "Slow down hon! You're going to get shaky and start crying." He hasn't seen this side of me yet, or has forgotten it.

I told her that Rob's brother worked for the VA in Sacramento and had told us to push them for services. Our very good online friends in WI who have similar connections to the VA also told us to ask. Another friend I wrote to told me to push as well. So I pushed. You would be proud of me. I did not raise my voice, get shaky or cry. I may have talked a little too fast, but it's the squeaky wheel . . .etc.

The gal looked again at the list of diagnosis's and said, "Perhaps they will waive it for him." The request is in the system. It takes months for these things, so if you wait until the last minute, it's about hopeless. I will not let that happen. Rob served his country well in the Vietnam War and as a civilian in the Gulf War. I will not let him be forgotten or left "under a rock" to suffer. He's suffered enough. His only child died of brain cancer because he was exposed to Agent Orange.

One more thing before I get off my soapbox: you don't have to agree with a war or war at all to support the men and women who fight for their country. I hate war. I don't think the troops like it either, but they made a commitment to serve. I think our country and its citizens ought to honor that. Except for these men and women, we would not have the freedoms we do. Remember that when you bash a war.

Okay, off the box. It's a beautiful sunny day here in Ventura if a bit cool. We bought freshly picked strawberries and oranges at one of the fruit stands on the road out of town this morning and we are enjoying them so this afternoon. We're both tired from the trip. I wish it were all closer. The Lord knows what is in store for us and he will give us what we need at just the time its needed.

Thank you for your kind comments and your prayers. They help. I pray for you as well. Be blessed,

oops! I tagged this 2005, but now remember it was April, 2006 ~ a trip to San Diego.

I figured it out . . .

2009-03-29T18:44:00.000-07:00

I've been a little melancholy the last day or two. I figured it might be the stress of knowing that Rob can drive, needs surgery, is in pain etc.

I was chatting with a friend when it came to me. We were talking about powers of attorney, health care decisions and the like. My mom requested a DNR in her medical record. She was dying of cancer and didn't want any drastic measures taken.

I remembered. Yesterday was Mom's birthday. She would have been 90. I know where my mom is. She loved the Lord with all her heart. I still miss her. I felt a little guilty because I had forgotten the day. So silly. I didn't get to grieve much for her when she died because my husband died the next day. It was a tough time. I've done my grieving now and I'm not depressed. I just miss her. I guess it's a human thing. I think I became more vulnerable and less invincible when she died. If she could die, then so could I.

My mom was a tremendous woman. Before she married my father, she was in pre-med. She gave that up to marry and raise a family. She never seemed to regret it. She loved us with a passion that I only understood after giving birth. I have 3 sisters and no brothers. There is a span of 8 years between me and my next sister. I happened when my parents tried to reconcile their marriage. Mom never seemed to regret me.

Since my sisters were older and all married or gone by the time I was 8 years old, I felt like an only child. My sisters spoiled me rotten until I was about 5, then tried very hard to undo the damage. Mom spoiled me too. I didn't know until I was in my teens how much she gave up to spoil me.

When I got pregnant at 15 1/2, mom cried. She didn't rant or rave or call me names. Rather she hugged me. I am sure she was disappointed, but she never let on. She supported me through the pregnancy (abortion was never an option) and let me make my own decisions regarding the baby.

Mom wasn't perfect. She was human. She loved her children and grandchildren to the point of selfishness. She had no life of her own. It was all for us. She dated some but never remarried. She worked and lived alone after I left home. She went to softball games and soccer games and plays. She would have been 90.

I honor her today. I am grateful to have been loved by her. I am thankful she taught me to love the Lord. I'm not melancholy anymore. Just grateful.

Sunday

2009-03-29T10:34:00.000-07:00

I hope you are all having a pleasant Sunday. The weather is overcast and a bit cool today. I'm staying inside.

Sundays at the ministry in Mexico were almost overwhelming. Every child had to be dressed properly, faces and hands clean, memorization finished. For each baby, bottles had to be mixed, diapers loaded into a big bag, and a change of clothes ready "just in case." The school-age kids had to be at church an hour early for Sunday school. They breakfasted early and one of us would take the task while the other was readying babies.

In the church, we sat together as a family. Our little contingent filled 2 pews. I would translate for English speakers who might come with us. The children were amazing. Many kids from small families would run all over the church, first sitting with family, then a friend, then perhaps a grandparent. Our kids stayed in the pews (did they listen to the Word? I like to think so.) as asked and left only for restroom breaks. We had a lot of parents ask us how we got them to sit still. To tell you the truth, I'm not sure except that we told them that they needed to be respectful in the house of God. I guess they listened. Below is a picture of a family breakfast. We only had 16 kids at the time.

The large white barrel at the back is fresh drinking water. We had a larger tank on the roof. To the right are bags and boxes of foodstuffs delivered the afternoon before. The house we were renting was small, just 3 bedrooms. This picture was taken on a school day. Our oldest boy and the infants are not pictured.

Sunday was always a time of blessing for the children. Parent visits were allowed both at church and at the house. Some parents had permission to take their kids for the day. The only hard part for us was not having workers to help with meals, clean-up, etc. Our girls especially were good at helping out with chores and the babies.

Our workers typically averaged $50 a month to come in for 8 hours+ a day. We had a cook, a laundry person and a housekeeper. Both the laundry person and housekeeper doubled as babysitters. This gave us the chance to go shopping or out to lunch on occasion.

We had prayer each morning before the kids went to school and each evening before bed. We also had short bible studies and a time of singing and memorizing verses. The last scripture the children learned before we left in 2004 was the scripture I quoted in my last entry. I was so proud of them! It took 4 weeks for them to read, understand and memorize that long passage.

Today, our home is quiet save for the dogs. We've had a little disappointment this week. On Monday when Rob went to see the Alzheimer's doctor, he was told not to drive. Rob thought it meant for a while, but we received notice yesterday from the DMV that he will no longer be able to drive. He is feeling pretty sad about that. He does love driving. I like having him drive. The good thing is that I also like to drive. We will just have to manage our trips differently. We will find the blessing in this, I am sure.

Our homeless friend Tina has found a place to live. She is coming by today visit. We are committed to helping her get her monthly bus pass and to that end we will have a few chores for her. She is looking for full time work as well. When she comes, we have a time of bible study or teaching as well. It's good for all of us.

Keeping you all in my prayers,

Good Morning

2009-03-27T08:59:00.000-07:00

It's been a rough few days for me. I have wanted to post again about Mexico, but my brain is working against me. My throat hurts, my ear hurts, it hurts to breathe and I can't talk above a whisper. PLOM

On Monday, I had to go with Rob to the VA facility in the valley. It's about 40 miles from here. This was the Alzheimer's doctor. Rob didn't score very well. He was having a bad morning. After his appointment, I had to go see the doctor here at home. I'm taking antibiotics but still feel pretty miserable.

Yesterday, Rob had 2 appointments with the VA. One was in the valley and the other in West Los Angeles. It was a full day for us. I did all the driving. Rob's back is messed up big time. He is now scheduled to have an injection in his spine for pain relief and also to talk to the surgeon. I am pretty opposed to back surgery, but the doc told us that the disc is impinging the nerve on both sides. No wonder my dear hubby is in so much pain. He also needs to have surgery on his ankle. I didn't realize how very much damage there was to his back.

This is where our prayer life and relationship with the Lord have the most importance. Sometimes our health problems overwhelm us and hope goes out the window. We feel alone and separated from the rest of the world. But there is hope. Whatever is going on in our lives, there is hope in Jesus. Three months ago, I was so sick I hadn't been out of bed in a long time. We prayed and I earnestly sought the Lord for a change. Even though I am sick right now, I am so much better than I had been. I am so grateful.

It's hard to feel the joy of the Lord when you are in pain, afraid, depressed or lonely. There are scriptures that can help. My favorite is in the book of Romans: Rom 8:31 What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? Rom 8:32 He who did not spare His own Son, but delivered Him up for us all, how shall He not with Him also freely give us all things? Rom 8:33 Who shall bring a charge against God's elect? It is God who justifies. Rom 8:34 Who is he who condemns? It is Christ who died, and furthermore is also risen, who is even at the right hand of God, who also makes intercession for us. Rom 8:35 Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? Rom 8:36 As it is written: "FOR YOUR SAKE WE ARE KILLED ALL DAY LONG; WE ARE ACCOUNTED AS SHEEP FOR THE SLAUGHTER." Rom 8:37 Yet in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us. Rom 8:38 For I am persuaded that neither death nor life, nor angels nor principalities nor powers, nor things present nor things to come, Rom 8:39 nor height nor depth, nor any other created thing, shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.
I am awed by this scripture. Once I have given myself to Christ, there is NOTHING that will take His love from me. He himself is interceding for me even (or especially) in my darkest hours. In the midst of what is going on in the world right now, I rest in the knowledge that God is on my side. He's on your side as well if you know Jesus as your savior.

******************

It's not morning now . . . doctor's office called to say it's not strep. They wanted me back in. Now they say it is strep again and have given me more potent antibiotics. This is where my faith gets tested. I'm very crabby when I don't feel well and all these trips out make me frustrated. However ~ just a moment ago I read news from my dear friend Tom.
His wife Sharon has just come through a successful heart valve replacement. My problems are minuscule. It will be a few days before she is even conscious and I frustrate myself over a sore throat. Please pray for Tom and Sharon.

As always, I pray for each and everyone of you. I have been reading your blogs and trying to comment. If I haven't, please be patient with me. I will get there. Blessings and love,

Spin the Bottle

2009-03-23T11:33:00.000-07:00

We called the trailer and its room home. From there, I shared the work in a pharmacy we had invested in, worked at the clinic, went to Bible study and church, rehearsed for plays and took care of children.

My granddaughter Ashley came to live with us for a year. The room wasn't built yet. We had a wooden room divider in the trailer to separate her "room" from ours. She came in the summer and we hired a man to help her learn Spanish so school wouldn't be so hard for her. Cleto not only taught her Spanish, but formed a folklorico dance troupe. Ashely was the best dancer they had. Not just bragging folks. The little troupe went to perform in a dance demonstration a few months after starting. Ashley and her partner performed a very difficult dance called "El Mono" (the bow). The n is supposed to have a tilde ~ over it, but I can't find the character set here. Even professionals gave this 8 year-old girl and her 9 year-old partner a standing ovation. A very proud grandma taped the whole thing. I wish I still had that tape.

Ashley helped her grandpa with construction work when she wasn't in school, studying or dancing. She made friends with several children, including those of the fisherman across the Z road from us. They were very poor and lived in a trailer older but similar to ours. The difference for them was that there were 3 of us and 6 of them. One night, after the room was nearly finished, Ashley invited the 3 little girls to spend the night with us. It was a taste of what was to come a little later.

We learned a valuable lesson from the little girls. After playing all the games we could translate, I heard one girl suggest playing "spin the bottle". I grew up in the 1950's and I knew that game. I was ready to object when I saw all the girls' eyes light up. I waited. They called to me to join them. I shook my head no but before I could move, little Carmen grabbed me and pulled me to where they were sitting cross-legged on the floor. The bottle spun and stopped. It pointed at one of the sisters. The spinner leaned across the center and hugged her sis, kissing her on the cheek. Soon all of us got a taste of what it was liked to be spun into family. I nearly cried with joy for the love that was shown. There was no funny business about this game.

As Ashley went to school and dance, I learned a great deal about the culture in Mexico. Most people were dirt poor or poor. There were not many of those would be called middle class in the U.S. There is a "class" distinction, however. Even the poorest of the poor Mexicans shunned the indigenous (Oaxacan or other) peoples. We taught Ashley to treat the indigenous with the same respect she would like to have.

I haven't posted for the last couple of days because I have strep throat. I went to the doctor yesterday and got antibiotics, cough syrup and an inhaler. I don't feel like a new person yet. Maybe tomorrow. Today my concern is with my dear friend Sharon who is having surgery and also with Krissy's husband John as he battles fungal pneumonia. I covet prayers for them, my sister Charlotte, Donna and Missie. I continue to pray for all of you. Blessings in Jesus' name,

Building

2009-03-20T09:15:00.000-07:00

Our area was at the far left.

It's strange to live in a foreign country, even if it's one as close as next door. Our property was in what was called an "American" community there. It was like living in a capsule of Americana. Our area was divided into several sections or "camps". The first two camps down the Z road as we called it, had names. The next 3 were numbered and the last section was the Baja Beach & Tennis Club.

Before Baja Beach was even built, they began to sell lifetime memberships to the Americans in the area. Roger wanted to buy in, but I was hesitant. They wanted $5k of our precious building dollars to get in on the "ground floor". I'm glad we didn't spend the money there.

We spent time making the plans for our home. Leasing land in Mexico is a gamble no matter what. 99 years leases are a lie. Even 3 ten-year leases may not be made with full disclosure. Roger was retired because he had developed asbestosis on the job. Whatever we built would be his last hurrah and he loved Mexico. We decided that we'd spend the money he had saved to build the house. We were not blind to the fact that we might lose everything. We couldn't even rent a home such as we wanted in the U.S. It was a go.

The first kind of Spanish I learned was construction Spanish. We hired an architect, made plans, had them approved and hire a man to begin construction for us. It took many months to get the foundation in. You understand that a man who builds his home on sand is a fool. Our footing went more than 5' down with thirteen 4' pilasters, 1" re bar in both directions and tied with heavy wire. Fill dirt then came in and a one foot concrete foundation was poured. Roger stubbed in all the elecrtic, phone and plumbing before the foundation went in.

We rejoiced every time we saw progress in the house. After the foundation, the windows were the biggest expense. We had 29 of them installed. Curtains were not an issue. There were no permanent residents within view when we built it.

The beams atop the 26' second story were enourmous! Roger and his friend Art installed the one at the rear (over the upstairs bathroom) while I video taped. I nearly had a heart attack. Other than the framing for the bathroom and loft, there was no place to land. The other beam was over open space 26 feet below. I asked Roger not to try to participate in that, so we spoke to our contractor. Seven young men showed up to earn a bonus. We took a walk. I couldn't watch. It was worth every penny to take that walk.

Living in the trailer wasn't easy. We thought it was big when we bought it. It was 30' long with a middle bedroom and rear bath. It had all the amenities. Wonderful for a couple of lovebirds as we were back then. Unfortunately, there was no room for disagreement in that 30'. When we would argue, one of us would head for the bedroom, the other for the kitchen/family area until we cooled off. I don't know exactly how he felt, but it was tough for me to pass him to use the bathroom while I was still angry - or have him pass me for that matter. We stopped construction to build a 30' x 15' room and 2nd bath alongside the trailer.

I hear and read of such turmoil in Mexico these days with the drug wars going on. I know it is a frightening place nowadays. I thought I would live and die there. I love speaking Spanish, I love the people there, I love "my" kids who still live there. My years were not wasted. I still have missionary friends there, including the couple who took over the ministry when we left 4 1/2 years ago. I am saddened to know that the country is in turmoil and persecution of the Americans still living there is likely. Please pray for those who have been chosen to place themselves in ministry in countries around the world.

Also please pray for my sister Charlotte who will be having surgery on Monday, my dear friend Sharon who will have surgery on Tuesday and for Donna who is also having or just had surgery. I thank you for reading and I am praying for you as well. Love and blessings,

Called Out

2009-03-19T10:07:00.000-07:00

Most people who call themselves missionaries feel a calling on their lives. I always wanted to be a helper of people. I listened well. I was smart and could figure things out. After I stopped drinking in 1976, I wanted to help others dig themselves out of the quagmire. I took a drug and alcohol counseling course and began my work with teenagers toward the end of that year. I worked in that capacity for 12 years, eventually counseling adults as well. I didn't feel it was a "calling" from God.

It took June several weeks to get me to visit the mission. I had just slowed my life to a snail's pace, we were building a house and to tell the truth, I didn't want to get sucked into helping. Sounds crass from a Christian I suppose, but at the time I was more of a bench-warmer Christian. I went to the study, found it exhilarating and went home. Each time June would ask me to visit the mission the next day. Finally I said, "If I go tomorrow, will you leave me alone?" She agreed.

The mission is at a "y" on the long trans peninsular highway of Baja California. Going straight on the road sends you south, taking the "y" sends you to a popular tourist attraction called La Bufadora. The mission is visible just as you make the turn. Our homes were 1/2 way to the "Buf" as we called it.

I drove in to the mission in the morning around noon. The place was a beehive of activity. Dozens of Americans were there and more than 100 indigenous people were milling around. June walked me past some new construction to a building at the end of the property. The first big room was where they held services for the locals at around 1. Then she showed me a couple of small classrooms, a closet full of school supplies, a tiny kitchen and an area at the back where volunteers were hard at work filling paper bags with "dispensas". These were gifts of food for those who attended services. Everyone said hello.I knew many from Bible study. There was an area for used clothing as well. I was impressed by the scope of the operation. Not tempted mind you, just impressed. Walking back out of the building, June turned left to open a closet door. Inside was a tall American woman, a medical exam table and some shelves with medicines on it. June called that tiny room "the clinic".

Irene seemed like such a nice lady. She had one person sitting on the exam table and a line of people outside. Without asking, she handed me some 3 x 5 cards and told me to take names. I did as I was told. The Spanish I was learning helped tremendously. I truly enjoyed it and was hooked. That was not my called out moment however. That came later on as I continued to work at the clinic.

Our first baby was a little guy named David. He was a failure to thrive baby who was 9 months old and weighed 7 lbs. Irene was caring for him, but they had a family emergency and had to leave suddenly. I felt inadequate to care for him. I agreed because Irene had no where else to turn. The little guy never even smiled. Instead of a week, we had him 3. He slept in a baby carrier in the bathtub in our trailer. He went where we went. The whole community was invested in him and I fell in love.

Roger and I were also part of a local theater group and were in rehearsals for a play at the time. David was support staff. At one of the rehearsals, I was playing with him and his little eyes lit up. He broke into the most beautiful smile! I cried. I knew why I was in Mexico. Below is a picture of David when he was about 9 years old.

I lnew I was called to serve, but I questioned God about this. I had been a mom since I was 16. I thought it was time to take care of me. Yet after David I couldn't wait for the next baby to come along. I hungered. We began to feast on the word as I continued to work at the clinic. We took a 10 year-old whose father had beaten her from head to toe with electrical wire. Then we took another baby.

I can't tell you that when God calls you out you will hear an audible voice. I didn't. You can get wonderful spiritual feelings and desires that make you feel as if you've been called. I knew when David smiled that I was there to do God's work. Taking care of him or any other child wasn't the job. Spreading the Good News of Jesus was the job. Taking care of children was our avenue for that. We didn't take kids away from families, we worked to restore them and build them in the Lord. I was called out, I felt it and that calling stood the test of time.

Perhaps I was called before I went to the clinic. Maybe the clinic was the conduit. I remember telling the Lord in early 1998, prostrate on the floor with my husband that I would serve him however he saw fit. I guess when you do something like that you have to be as a boy scout and be prepared. God prepared me by giving me the Spanish language as my own. Before the time we took David, people were asking me where in Mexico I was born. God also prepared me by allowing me to learn a lot about medicine while working in the clinic. He also gave me a love for the indigenous (mostly Oaxacan) peoples who lived there.

I'm tired now and having a little trouble with my breathing the last couple of days. I feel compelled to continue this journey for you. I also feel compelled to tell you that if you are not a believer, I am willing to talk to you as are other competent Christian bloggers. Don't be afraid to ask us questions. I can't give out their names or e-mails because this is a public blog, but I will place my e-mail address at the bottom of this post.

I pray for all of you daily, even those whose names I do not know. I know that a few of you are having problems or facing surgery. Be blessed today,

firestormkids04@aol.com

Into Mexico

2009-03-18T08:36:00.000-07:00

My first trip into Mexico with Roger was while we were dating. He was so excited to show me his "property" and to have me love the place as he did. Truthfully, I was skeptical. I had been in Mexico during my drinking days (more than 12 years before by then) and had camped there with my friends and the children after I got sober. I thought it was ok, but was not all that impressed. The first thing I told him was, "Ok I'll go, but I will never live there or ever drive there." He was nice and agreed.

That Friday night after I got off work, Roger picked me up and we drove over the border. The filth of Tijuana turned my stomach. We missed most of it because of the new toll road. Along the border was (still is) a high steel fence with hundreds of people sitting along or atop it waiting to gain access to the United States.

Once in Ensenada about 60 miles south of the border we stopped for dinner. It was a lovely place and the food was great. Then we drove on another 20 or so miles, farther and farther from the lights of the city. We turned out a curvy road and then a curvy dirt road, eventually coming to stop just a few steps from the ocean. There I saw that ugly trailer. I was wondering just how he thought the sleeping arrangements might go. We were just barely engaged. Yes, I know. He was going to be my 4th husband, but I wanted my life to be in order. I didn't have to worry. As small as the trailer was, there were 2 beds.

Morning on the beach is a wonder! At that time, there were very few homes in the area. The beach was pristine. I still wasn't having any permanent designs on this place.

I will tell you what changed my mind about Mexico and the Mexican people in general. I'm not talking about those who sneak across the border now. On our way to shop in Ensenada, the clutch cable in Roger's little car snapped. I recognized the sound. We parked and looked for a gas station. I needed a restroom as well. The gas station guy pointed us to a transmission shop a few blocks away. At the transmission shop we had trouble communicating. I was studying Spanish but had no idea how to explain clutch cable. With words and signs, we soon understood each other and the young man smiled. He put us in his car and drove like a maniac through the back streets of Ensenada to the clutch repair shop, where we were whisked away by another manic driver. He took us to the car, looked at the problem and took Roger to go look for the part.

I got left with the car. I had to go. There wasn't even a big enough tree in sight to accomplish that. I waited. I waited over 2 hours. They were back! No part. The car was a Renault and a little too foreign for the local junkyards. We were told to "speed shift". When Roger tried to pay the young man for his time, gas and effort, he refused. I even understood what he said. "I've done nothing." He could have taken all we had, but chose to serve.

We left the next morning and nursed the car all the way back to my home in eastern L.A. county. And he wanted to live in Mexico after we married?

After you pass through the border at Tijuana (San Ysidro) going into Mexico, you pass through a very small section of the busy border town. You see homes built into the hills. Homes is a generous word I suppose. Most of the homes are shacks held up by old tires. The are generally no windows or window glass and often the door covering is a sheet. The poverty is inescapable.

The next step is a steep climb along the border toward the ocean or Playas as they call it. As we would reach the top of that climb and curve left toward the first toll station, my heart would simply burst with relief and awe. The sight is hard to explain. From the time we married, decided to serve the Lord and moved part time into Mexico, I felt a sense of homecoming each time we reached that summit. Two more toll stations and the town of Ensenada and we would be home.

Most of the pictures I have of our early time in Mexico are hard copies and must be scanned and digitized. I wish I had that capability right now, but I don't. Suffice it to say that the coastline drive from the first toll to the last is spectacular. It looks somewhat like the California coast 50 years ago, clean and mostly uncluttered. I know that Americans have leased up those areas as much as possible now and are building as they have done here. This makes me sad.

As soon as Roger and I found Christians and a Bible study, our lives felt complete. Our teacher was a 93 year-old Bible scholar whose father had been an itinerant preacher, going from town to town on horseback. In the Bible study, we met her son Howard and his wife, June. They are founders of the mission I mentioned yesterday. I will tell that tale tomorrow and about how I was "called out" to ministry.

Thank you all for your fine comments on my last entry. I love to hear from you all and need the encouragement to continue what I feel is important to share. You all know that my life belongs to Jesus, but I want you to know what it's like to be a reluctant missionary as well. I pray earnestly for you. Blessings and love,

A Little bit of History

2009-03-17T06:51:00.001-07:00

When my late husband Roger and I married, he had a dream. He wanted to retire to Mexico. He had this funky 13 foot round-looking trailer on the beach there and thought it was paradise. There was no electricity, no water and no room. I loved that beautiful beach, but hated that trailer. So he bought another and we moved . . . part-time at first. We lived half our time on our 36' sailboat in San Diego and the other half in Mexico. I was finishing up my 2-year college degree.

Roger bought (leased) another couple of lots by the beach, sold a couple of lots, and we had plans drawn up for our dream house. Below is a picture of the house some years later and during the construction of the garage.

It was never meant to be this big. Our dream was to have the kitchen, living room and garage on the lower level and one gigantic loft room above. We started the project in 1990. The house was livable in March, 1998 ~ 7 months after Roger died.

A lot of stuff happened in those 8 years. The project stalled several times. We had to build a room addition around the 30' trailer we were living across the street. By the time we did that, of course, we had electricity and a tank below ground to hold our everyday water, which was trucked in as we ordered it. We drank bottled water.

1995, we got phones! I got the Internet and have been addicted ever since. What a pleasure it was to communicate with people I loved. It was very expensive. Calls beyond our specific area were also expensive and to the U.S. were $1.39/minute back then.

In 1989, I started to work with Helping Hands of Mexico . Click here to find information about it. It was founded by Howard and June Schrock, our friends from Bible study. I worked in the free clinic there, first one day a week, then two, then four. Many days I worked alone, using the book Where There is No Doctor which was recommended by the RN that worked there from time to time. During that time, I started to bring home sick babies, an abused 10 year-old and others.

That's when the house began to change and us with it. When we left California, all of our kids were grown and I happily left my "mom" life for retirement. However, right after we got married, we rededicated our lives to God's service. I was in for a rude awakening.

There is so much to tell, I can't do it in one posting. I spent 15 years in Mexico and saw more life than I saw in all the 56 years before I left there. I'm hoping to share some of the joys and sorrows with you all.

Until then, you are all in my prayers. Love and many blessings, Penny

Something about a "friend"

2009-03-08T13:43:00.000-07:00

This is Precious. She's my constant companion. Now don't get me wrong, she's not 1st in my life. First is my Savior, Jesus. Without Him, I am lost . . . a sinner with no way out. He died for my sins and I have eternal life. Second is my husband. We were joined as one in Christ. Even on days that I don't like something he is doing, we are one. Anything I might say against him I say against myself also. I try to watch my mouth. My children and grandchildren and the rest of the family come after Rob. Farther down the list is my constant companion, Precious.

Precious is not the first Pomeranian I've had. I don't know if she's the best. Precious is a dog ~ my dog. I have spoiled this little dog like crazy. Her favorite treat is to be able to lick aluminum top from my yogurt. Small pleasures. For the most part, she behaves. She runs when it's bath-time, tries not to be put outside with her kids and the Shepherd and has selective hearing. When I am ill as I have been for a week now, she is at my side. She goes into the living room to bark at Rob so he can put her on the bed with me. If I sleep for 12 hours, she never moves. When I am in pain, she scoots close to me. If I grouch at her, she ignores me. She loves me. It's really devotion rather than love I guess. Dogs appear to love and have emotions, but the Dog Whisperer says they are just dogs. I still say she is totally devoted to me and would lay down her life for me. I love her.

When I think about the devotion Precious has for me, I begin to think of the love Jesus has for me. There's no comparison. Jesus loved me before the foundation of the world. My name (yours too) was written on the palm of God's hand before the world was formed. What kind of love is this? It's not the passion that Rob and I feel for one another . . . not even close. I think the Lord put passion in our marriages to give us a tiny hint of the passion He has for us. Precious' devotion doesn't come close either. God saw my sin before it ever happened and sent Jesus to die once for all of our sins. Willingly, Jesus died. Willingly, God let him. Willingly, I have accepted His love.

It's not easy all the time to live in the love of Jesus. In Col 3:1-11, Paul writes that we should put away all of our sin and put on the "new man" in Christ. Easy enough. I don't want to murder or maim or live in sexual sin. But it gets harder. I also need to put away the smaller stuff (what I thought was smaller) like anger, rage, gossip, swearing and lying. That makes me cry. How often have I been angry, gossiped, lied or swore. I don't gossip, but find myself listening. For me to be the new person in Christ, I need to keep from doing these things. I'm not perfect. I'm doing my best and do not live in shame. I ask forgiveness and work harder at being more like Him.

The next part of the chapter is the encouragement to me. Verses 12-17 tell me I am the elect of God (chosen!) holy and beloved. And they tell me how to act. It's a guide book in a few short words. I do give thanks to God for my life, my husband, family, friends and even for my Precious.

Times are tough in this country right now. Worse than in many years. We'd like to blame one person or another, but it didn't take a day to create the mess. One leader after another, from small offices to the president, blames the leader before him or her. I'm not a politico, but I don't see things getting better anytime soon, if at all. I pray daily for our country, our leaders and the world. I know the outcome for myself and my Christian brothers and sisters. We have a promise that will be kept: eternal life with Jesus.

I also pray for all of you daily. Many of you know who you are. Many of you think it couldn't be you. Think again. I even pray for people I disagree with. As always, if you have a special prayer need, click on my e-mail link here.

Can a Prayer Save America

2009-02-25T13:54:00.000-08:00

Hi folks, I've been on "sabbatical" for a bit. I got this in e-mail today and rather than send it on, I'm posting it here. More later from me. You are all in my prayers. Blessings and love, Penny

Can a Prayer Save America?

During the Civil War, a friend of Abraham Lincoln was a visitor at the White House. "One night I was restless and could not sleep...From the private room where the President slept, I heard low tones. Instinctively I wandered in, and there I saw a sight which I have never forgotten. It was the President, kneeling before and open Bible. His back was toward me. I shall never forget his prayer: 'Oh, Thou God that heard Solomon in the night when he prayed and cried for wisdom, hear me...I cannot guide the affairs of this nation without Thy help. Hear me and save this nation."

When the leaders of our country assembled to write the Constitution, Benjamin Franklin proposed that each session be open with prayer. Franklin said, "I have lived a long time, and the longer I live the more convincing proof I see of this truth--- that God governs the affairs of men."

Our nation is great because it was founded upon God's Word and prayer. But today prayer has been replaced by political intrigue, materialism and a mistaken notion that our private and national affairs can be run without God.

Be here and there throughout America voices are heard, as individuals and groups begin to call on God in prayer. But this whole nation must be moved to prayer. So great are the dangers, so grave the perils, so tremendous the problems, that it is imperative that we lay hold upon the Lord God in prayer for His will.

Prayer can save America. There is only one way out, and that is up! If we do not turn to God, we will be overcome by the godless. It is either revival or ruin! It is now or never! The answer will not be found by the UN or NATO. The answer will be found only when we call upon the Lord God. Spiritual values must be restored. We must return to the faith of our fathers and to family prayer and the Bible.

Christ's death and resurrection make it possible for you to have victory over sin and a vital relationship with God. Only then can He hear and answer your prayers...both for America and your own personal needs. Receive Him today. "For as many as received Him, to them gave He power to become the sons of God, even to them that believe on His name."

Then you can claim God's promise: "If My people, which are called by My Name, shall humble themselves, and pray, and seek My face, and turn from their wicked ways; then will I hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin, and will heal the land."

THE AMERICAN'S CREED

I believe in the United States of America, as a government of the people, by the people, for the people; whose just powers are derived from the consent of the governed; a democracy in a republic; a sovereign nation of many sovereign states; a perfect union, one and inseparable; established on those principles of freedom, equality, justice and humanity for which American patriots sacrificed their lives and fortunes. I therefore believe it is my duty to my country to love it, to support its constitution, to obey its laws, to respect its flag, and to defend it against all enemies (and to pray for its leaders).

Flu and them some

2009-02-08T07:57:00.000-08:00

I can't believe I got the flu! What in the world are flu shots for? Last Sunday, I was insisting it was allergies. I never get the flu. By Monday night, I was overwhelmed. Goodness gracious - or as Mom used to say - goodness gracious godness agnes! Did you get the flu this year? I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy.

After writing my last post, I searched a bit more for my step-family. Thanks for all the suggestions. I still hit dead-ends. I got discouraged and gave up. I figured I could at least find ONE of his 4 children or his ex-wife. Their names showed up . . . nothing current. Then a few days ago, my grandson Doug calls.

"Grandma? Chris passed away."

Chris was my late husband's firstborn. He had a lot of problems. He gave the world 3 wonderful children. He died from a blood clot to the lung. He'd been treated for clots in his leg, but couldn't afford the blood thinning medication to save his life. He died alone and unknown. By a fluke the coroner managed to find Chris's oldest son Andrew. I had looked for him, too.

I hadn't spoken to Andrew for many years. He came to visit on the year anniversary of his grandfather's death. I was ill and not much help to a young man looking for answers. We kept in touch for a little while then he seemed to disappear. He called. He's married now and in the military. He and his wife have a 7 month old son. Can you say great-grandma? The joy of reconnecting with him is a bit tainted by his father's death. Andrew has taken the responsibility for the arrangements. He wants to find his other grandmother and his aunt and uncles. He believes as I do that the family would want to know.

I wonder why people disappear like that? I would never have found Chris or Andrew. Andrew changed his last name. I try to keep myself out there just in case. Say my dear friend from high school wants to find me. I'm out there with my maiden name and current name. I guess it's hard for me to understand. Are some of you out there being anonymous and unfound? Can you explain to me? I really want to know. Then perhaps I will be more clear.

I wanted to put a picture of my new great grandson here, but I forgot to get permission from them. Their myspace page is set to private and I don't want to violate their trust. Maybe next time.

It's been raining here. Finally. I doubt that this 2 - 3 days of rain will make a difference in the California drought, but it's a start. I really like the rain. Everything seems new and clean when the sun comes out. Little birdies in the nearby trees sing incessantly. Sunshine makes everything sparkle. Just beautiful. I see God's hand everywhere in creation. And some people think it was all a big bang. I wonder what sound was made when God created the heavens and the earth? BANG!!!??? I wonder if it suddenly rained stars and suns and planets as we see drops of rain today?

Rob is making me Sunday brunch. I love this man! His first thought after Jesus is me. I've been cooking more lately, but it makes me feel so very special when he caters to me. I know he is commanded in the Bible to love me ("Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ also loved the church and gave Himself for her . . ." Eph 5:25), but that doesn't always happen. I know ~ I've been married a few times. I am so grateful to have had this kind of love not once but twice. Cool, huh?

Even though I don't post as often lately, I still think of you often. I read blogs and sometimes comment, but find myself "lurking" more often than not. I pray for each of you and for all of you. Blessings to all in Christ,

Saddened

2009-01-26T11:31:00.000-08:00

I've been searching on the Internet for my late husband's children. I never had a chance to see or speak to his youngest son after he died. I heard through the grapevine that Peter was looking for his dad about a year after Roger's death. He went into an Alano Club and some jerk yelled out that Roger was dead. He turned and hurried away. For years, I have searched and found nothing. Today I found his name, his brother and sister's names and their mom's name. Apparently all living, but the phone numbers are all bad. I passed the information on to my daughter and she will continue.

While talking with Heather, she tells me that there is a big problem. A boy that Andrea rides the bus with and likes committed suicide over the weekend. Actually 2 boys from the same school shot themselves. Heather hasn't seen Andrea as she spent the weekend with a friend to go to the winter formal dance. The school called to advise parents this morning. My poor baby daughter! After all the changes in her life over the last couple of years, this seems just too much. I'm thinking about the boys' parents as well. How will they cope? Why? Please, friends pray for the families, friends, schoolmates - my Andrea - of these two boys. This is too much trauma for a small high school in a mountain town.

I had a post ready a few days ago, but everything kept messing up. I decided to let the whole thing go. So I'm back for another opportunity. I've been reading some of your posts, trying to catch up. There are so many people struggling physically, emotionally and financially. I'm one of those people who would like to run out to fix it. Fortunately I've learned that my answer is often not yours. So I pray. I pray for your health, your relationships, your finances. Then I pray for you to be surrounded by the love of Jesus Christ. I have your names written down - my memory's not that good! - so that I will remember your needs. I feel full of joy after I have prayed.

On my other blog, I will be posting about relationships ~ probably sometime today.

Tina came by on Thursday. She called early to ask if she could do laundry. When you live on the streets in a motorhome, there just isn't any way to get it done. I couldn't give her any work that day. It's the end of the month for us. So we spent most of the day together. I encouraged her to sign up to work for the pre-census. It's part-time and good pay. Then when the census actually starts, she will have a leg up. I hope she's in there taking the test today. We went out for a little bit to take pictures from a hill looking at the ocean. It was gray and overcast, but beautiful. I've added a small slide show for you.

It's dull and cloudy outside today and quite cool. In the area I lived when I was younger, about 50 east of here, hail stuck to the ground and housetops this morning. Brrrrrr! I left the heater on for the first time in a long while last night. We're hoping to get rain over the next couple of days. Strange to be at the ocean still having desert weather . . .

I hope your day is truly blessed. I keep you in my prayers.

need prayer? firestormkids04@aol.com

If you are complaining . . .

2009-01-18T13:04:00.000-08:00

I have been having some thoughts . . .

First of all, on the way to church Rob and I were discussing the upcoming inauguration of President-Elect Obama. Lots of discussion. I'll tell in a minute. It boiled down to the fact that we will be praying for this new president to be a good one.

After the praise and worship, the pastor came to the front. The topic of his message was posted in the bulletin. We were ready. When he started to speak, he was talking about the new president coming in and how everyone lies in wait for a president or leader to make a mistake so they can go in for the killing words. He said we are a world of complainers and we get used to it. Then he said something remarkable (quoted from another pastor):
"If you are complaining more for the president than praying for him, you are in sin"

Wow. Confirmation. This has been the point of most our discussions lately when it comes to the presidency. Who ever this man turns out to be in history and whether or not we voted for him, the office is now his and the authority must be respected.

I have been dismayed at the lack of respect shown for President Bush. Whichever good decisions he made, whatever mistakes he made, he was duly elected by the people and he deserved respect given by the people. Still does. It's a tough job.

It seems that we forget that our leaders are simply people. We hang our hopes on them. We forget that as we do, they put their pants on one leg at a time. Have you ever made a promise you couldn't keep? I have. They do. Human. Not God.

I wonder if all the hoopla for this inauguration is and will be leading people straight into disillusionment. It seems the press (don't even get me started) has made it even bigger by touting it for months. How many grade school kids across the country are going to perform? How many bands? How monumental does this have to be? What happens when Mr. Obama sits in the chair and can't fulfill his promise? Will those same millions of people and the press dump on him as they have done for the man who is leaving office? You betcha.

It won't matter then if he is black, white, yellow or brown. It will matter that people put expectations on him that they won't even pray to God about. There is no person on this earth who can solve it. We gotta do something. In 1Tim 2 there are instructions for Christians. Pray. If you are not Christian, what does your faith if you have such tell you to do? I only know that this new president needs our prayers and our support.

Every leader inherits some kind of mess. When you get that promotion to supervisor or manager or president/CEO, what happens? You have to pick up where someone else left off. You can't keep blaming stuff on your predecessor. You have to step up to the plate. It's your mess now. Do you then lay your head on your hands and say, "Oh, God!"? Wouldn't it be nice if those you left behind you would respect your new position, support you fully and pray for you to succeed? Yep. It doesn't happen often, does it?

There's been a lot more stuff running around in my brain about this. If I wrote it all here, it would be too much. My pastor hit the nail on the head for me this morning not only with that quote, but with his message from Col 1:15-23. I need to recognize who is the Leader of my life and put my faith in Him, not in man.

May the Lord richly bless your lives today,

If you would like prayer . . . firestormkids04@aol.com

I'm 60!!

2009-01-17T19:10:00.000-08:00

Can you believe this? I'm 60 years old today!!

I have wondered for some time what this birthday would bring. There have been times I wasn't sure I'd live this long. These last couple of years have been rough for me . . . for us. We seem to have hit every crisis possible for a family. I got through and I'm stronger. Praise God!

I want to thank my mom for giving a childhood to remember. She's gone now 11 years, but she was the best mom a kid could have (I was spoiled rotten). Thanks to my kids for growing me up and my grandkids for breathing new life into me.

I joined a group of people who have tournaments on Pogo. The held a birthday tour/party for me last night and a couple of dozen people showed up to wish me well. I want to thank those Gamers. I have played a lot of games on Pogo, especially while in bed. It's nice to have met a group that plays and chats together without bad language or criticism.

I love having the friends I have made here on the Internet. Many of you I wouldn't know if you walked up in front of me, but I feel as I know you well. If you are new to my journal, welcome. I love to meet people and hear your comments.

Rob got me a new digital SLR camera for my birthday. Yesterday we went out to take the first big group of pictures. I feel almost guilty posting this slide show because I hear of the terrible cold in so many places. We have had a few days of Santa Ana winds and the weather has been wonderful. I have not walked on the beach in over 2 years. What a glorious day it was for me. I felt like I got full deep breaths for the first time since we cracked my rib (love those hugs). These pictures are a glimpse of the wonders of living on the California coast. We drove just under 3 miles to reach the shore. Please enjoy.

Something is happening to me that I consider miraculous. I live in constant pain. For the last couple of weeks the pain has been the same, but infinitely more bearable. I've spent more time in bed than out of it over the last year and I have been up and about more lately than even I can believe. We walked on the beach for some time yesterday as I snapped pictures. I felt joy like a bubbling spring inside me. I've been afraid to go because walking on sand is so difficult for me. I can only thank God for this change. My prayer life has changed. I quit asking for myself and started thanking Him instead. I pray for all of you every day. I don't think I can express in words the gratitude I feel. Just praise the Lord. "If ye ask anything in My name, I will do it." JOHN 14:14 KJV

Remember: I'm praying for you anyway. If you have a need, I'm here. Let me know. firestormkids04@aol.com

Love and many blessings,

Happy New Year

2009-01-11T13:46:00.000-08:00

Here it is the 10th of January and I haven't even posted yet. I actually haven't done much of anything for the last 3 weeks except to wallow in self-pity. A few days before Christmas, I got a rousing hug from Rob and cracked a rib. Pain aside, I had such problems getting a deep breath that I sent myself further into the dumps. Well, phooey!!

I had a talk with God a couple of days ago. He listened, I prayed. He actually hears me when I talk to Him. I told him I was fed up with being in the pity-pot, had made myself so stressed that my whole being; body, mind and soul were out of sorts. I told him I had managed to get lost yet one more time. I asked for help. Whew! Just that admission gave me a small burst of energy. Isn't that the best?

Now when you pray ~ expect results! The Lord doesn't fool around. I got my help. I am breathing better, don't have to look up to see snails and believe it or not, the pain is bearable. I have some experience with prayer. I do it every day. I expect action. Sometimes I don't get to see the action, but I know it happens.

In early 1988, my late husband and I were finishing up a Marriage Encounter weekend. We were both sober a long time, brought up as Christians, but kind of lackluster in our faith. In the last 90 minutes of the weekend, we were writing letters to each other and suddenly he burst into tears saying, "I just love the Lord so much!" I cried as well, because I did too. Right then and there, we dropped to our knees and asked the Lord for forgiveness and offered our lives to him in whatever capacity He desired. By the end of the year, we were living part-time in Mexico as "retirees" and in less than a year more, we were serving God full time in that country. I was there for 15 years.

Maybe it's not all that dramatic for everyone or ever dramatic, but I know this: Jesus said that whatever the faithful ask in His name will be done. I don't know how much clearer that can be. When I tell you that I pray for you all every day ~ I do. Always it's for you as a whole, sometimes for individuals or situations. I don't know how you believe or what God is doing in your life, but know this. I pray.

So for this day in 2009, I'm asking you to tell me when you have a need. Ask me every day~I don't have to know all the details if you'd prefer not. I will pray. If you aren't already Christian be aware that I will also pray for you to become one. That's my word to Christ. My word to you is that I will pray. You can send me an e-mail if you don't want to leave a personal request in the comments, but I urge you to use me. (firestormkids04@aol.com)

Please try not to leave negative comments. Take me as I am.
For now lots of love and prayers,

Joy, Joy, Joy

2008-12-22T17:18:00.000-08:00

You are looking at my Christmas present. I have a brand new smile! Three years ago I received the gift of new bridges for my teeth. I lost so many teeth while I was in Mexico. I was thrilled to get the bridges. I did have the smile I wanted. Then a little over a month ago, one of my teeth broke and had to be pulled. Since I had no more anchors for the bridge, we decided to have the few remaining pulled and get an upper for me. I've been walking around for abut 6 weeks with only my two front teeth showing. Saturday morning that all changed. The last 5 teeth came out and in went my smile. I am deliriously happy. I actually cried when I saw myself. Praise the Lord that my gums haven't been painful. The best thing . . . the doctor (oral surgeon) who took care of me on Saturday was wonderful! I told him it was a miracle that he got my teeth out so fast and he said, "Not my work, not a miracle, all credit goes to the Lord". Is that cool or what?
This week is also the week of Hanukkah. This celebration of the Festival of Lights is important to all Jews. A couple of years ago, I told the history of Hanukkah as I found on the internet. It wasn't just one day out of many, but a time when the Temple was returned to the Jews after a long time of suffering and oppression. They had only enough oil to light one of the eight lights on the Menorah. However after the first night, they found they had enough to light the second and so on until the eighth day. This was a miracle wrought by God to His chosen people. I want to say Happy Hanukkah to all of you who celebrate the Festival of Lights.

I can't believe that Thursday will be Christmas already. We have invited another guest, made her stocking and purchased small gifts for her. Rob's sister may be joining us as well. She's been super depressed. Christmastime depression is all too common. We talked with her and prayed with her on Saturday. Later, a very good friend of our offered to pay for the train ticket to get her here for a week or two. Perhaps time with family will be good for her. I called with the news, but she hasn't given us her decision yet. If y'all would pray for her and for our Christmas guests, I would really appreciate it. Their names are Timothy, Dora, Tina, Shawn & Denise. It will be our great pleasure to share the Christmas Story from the gospel of Luke with them all.

Tomorrow I will be making/baking the pumpkin roll. I hope I can still find the recipe. The roll is so decadently delicious that Christmas cannot pass without me fattening up on it. Besides, it's a hit with everyone. Ham is ham and pies just pies, but that dear pumpkin roll lights up their eyes!

As always you are all in my thoughts and prayers. If I am not able to post before then, Merry Christmas to you all. I posted to my other blog Blessings by Day today as well. Drop on by . . . it's a divine appointment.
Blessings and love,

DO AS YOU WILL . . .

2008-12-16T13:37:00.000-08:00

This is a story I posted in December 2005. I think it deserves repeating.

This is more of a woman’s story than a man’s, but I hope men will read it as well. When I was 15 years old and thought I knew everything, I slipped into the back seat of a butter yellow Chevy Super Sport Impala. The rest is history. With that one little action, I changed the course of my life forever. The chance to be a little girl again was gone. A life grew inside me.

How many teenage girls can say with a certainty that getting pregnant is their first option? And those that actually do . . . how many are prepared for the awesome responsibility that goes along with being a mother? I know I wasn’t prepared. No way. I was immature and irresponsible, spoiled and a few other adjectives that come to mind. Mother material isn’t one of them.

Immediately after my experience in the back seat, I was ashamed. My mother had taught me better than that. I didn’t listen. A few days later, I knew with a certainty that I was pregnant. I had to get the word to Mom and disappoint her. It was a very tearful time.

There was life inside me. Swimming around in there was a child. Wow! From the moment my flat little belly began to swell, I loved him. Unless you are a parent it’s hard to understand that kind of love. I loved my precious child enough to give him up for adoption.

But this isn’t my story. It’s her story. I can’t adequately tell it, but I’m going to try. It was a different era altogether. There weren’t any cars and people mostly walked to get where they were going. Most teenage girls were betrothed (engaged) very early. There were rituals to betrothal and young couples were never unsupervised. It was a time of innocence, I believe.

Come back with me to the road in a little town. A young girl is walking there. Possibly she is picking wild flowers or kicking stones, thinking about her betrothed. He’s a handsome man and already has a trade, so will be a good provider. She’s got her head down and she’s in sort of a dream world. Suddenly, out of nowhere, an angel appears! He’s huge and glowing and she is very frightened. Her eyes widen and she trembles. One can only imagine the thoughts racing through her young mind.

“Greetings to you, woman of favor. The Lord is with you,” he says to her. Favor? What have I done? I’m just a simple girl, she thinks. Then the angel tells her the most unbelievable thing. She’s going to be pregnant! Even back then girls knew you had to be intimate with a man to get pregnant and she certainly hadn’t been. What’s up here?

“Me? I’m still young and a virgin! I am just betrothed. I cannot have a child!” Mary exclaims. (You knew this was about her didn’t you?) The angel explains that the Holy Spirit will overcome her and she will have the child of God. He told her not to be afraid.

Not to be afraid? They stone women who get pregnant out of wedlock! What will she say to her family . . . to Joseph? How will she do all of this by herself? I’m not sure these were her thoughts, but can you imagine trying to explain this to people? Oh, my God!

Yes, we are talking about God here aren’t we? And it’s known that Mary was faithful. How much faith? You know her response. “Do as you will unto me.”

There is no place in my mind where I can fathom this response. I probably would have run the other way. But not this girl. What did she do? Shortly thereafter, she probably walked the approximately 90 miles to see her pregnant elderly cousin. Now that’s obedience for you. It doesn’t say when she told everyone about her condition. She had great courage to do so. It turned out well. Joseph saw an angel in a dream who told him that it was okay and to marry her anyway.

I wonder how it must have felt to Mary to place her hands on her belly and know that God was growing inside of her? I know what it feels like to have life inside me, to feel the first fluttery movements, to be kicked, hiccupped and somersaulted. I know the pain of childbirth and the joy of holding my still-wet child in my arms. How much more must Mary have felt? I wonder if she worried as I did about the future of her child? Did she consider whether she was ready for this responsibility? Did she think she’d lost her girlhood? I guess we’ll never know. I kind of doubt it, though. I think if God gave her the willingness to bear the Christ child, He must have filled her with the confidence (faith) she needed to face any struggle.

As we celebrate the birth of Jesus, let us take time to remember what a miracle life is! Let’s not shortchange His life or God by saying “Happy Holidays” instead of “Merry Christmas” We got the best gift of all when a teenage girl said:

“Do as you will unto me.”

2008-12-15T09:49:00.000-08:00

Last night, Andrea called. I love when she calls. I answer and hear a very cheery "Hi, Mommy!" She's going to be 15 in March, yet she holds on to that little girl in so many of her ways. She lives with her older sister and family on top of a mountain called Dun Moodie (sp). The first thing Andrea said was . . ."it's snowing~we have about 8 inches" We talked then about school, it's finals week, and her friends. I worry about them this year because Heather and Jason have decided to build a home on his property there. So far, they have a nice warm school bus for the kids, a 5th wheel (too crazily cold) and the use of a small cabin. the foundation will probably be laid in the spring. UGH!

Heather just called. She sent this picture of Andrea and Zach. It snowed all night ~ last measurement was 17" but they are going out to measure again. That's Jason's truck next to Andrea. Don't people usually take such pictures when they go visit the snow? And they wanted me up on that mountain with them. No way. However they will now have a white Christmas. Lovely to look at, God's beauty unfolds, Oh! How they love it, For me it's too cold.

For those of you who live with snow year after year . . . I get it. It's home for you. I grew up in Southern California. The snow we see here for the most part is in higher elevations and only during ski season. It is wonderful to see the peaks shimmering with white. I don't go there anymore. Snow hurts my body.

I had another thing to post today . . . maybe later. Until then, I love you all and keep you in my prayers,

The Needle Threader

2008-12-13T17:08:00.000-08:00

I love the Christmas season! With great joy we celebrate the birth of our Lord Jesus Christ. Right between our two small trees we have a manger scene. The other holiday stuff ~ Santa, elves, nutcrackers, etc., are among our decorations. Having an empty nest is tough for us and I usually get depressed near Christmas. This year we decorated the inside of the house to the nines. All the lights we would have put outside are in the living room. We decided to keep the cheer inside with us this time. Most of our Christmas e-cards have been scheduled and the few snail mail cards are ready to be sent.

Yesterday, I decided to get the stockings ready to hang by the chimney. We have invited our guests from Thanksgiving to join us again on Christmas. We have been having fun looking for trinkets for the stockings and a couple of practical gifts for each of them. I pulled out my box of sequins and embroidery threads and set to work. I had one needle already threaded with red. I looked at all the colors and got so excited! I haven't decorated a stocking in years. Then I looked for my needle threader. It was no where to be found and I can't see the hole in the needle. Frustrated, I waited until today to go get one. Since I was going to the store anyway, I stopped at the back where they keep scissors, needles, etc. I expected to find a packet with 2 or 3 threaders. Nope. Gotta buy thread and needles to get a threader. I bought the smallest package they had . . .$2.39 for 12 rolls of crummy thread, 3 needles and 1 threader. That's a lot to pay for a little piece of aluminum with a wire attached.

Home at last, my first project was to make ribbon loops to hang a curtain over our window. I threaded my needle with the right thread at which time the needle threader broke! I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. I couldn't cut the ribbon ~ it was a silvery shimmery one . . . with wire on both sides. I pulled the wire . . . perfect!!! It's just the right size to fit through the eye of most needles :-) I think I'm set for life. I just need to get to thse stockings . . .

Blessings to you all . . .

Remember . . .

2008-12-07T11:54:00.000-08:00

I was actually going to whine today (thinking I deserved it), saw the date and changed my mind. There are so many of us who remember Pearl Harbor only through the memories of others, through photos and stories. I cannot re-tell those stories. I was thinking about the service those young men and women offered. . .

They enlisted or were drafted and they pledged to protect the U.S. and its constitution with their lives. I wonder how many of them actually thought their lives would be required? How many generations will honor them? Is it almost over because more of these veterans die every year? I certainly hope not !It's been over 60 years for Pearl Harbor Vets, but there are those of us who have heard the stories and there are veterans from each of the successive wars, popular or not, who are willing to carry Pearl Harbor's history and their own histories as long as they live.
This is a picture of the USS Arizona as it burned and sank.

And this is a photo of Hickam Field. I stood on the USS Arizona Memorial and watched as long-ago oil still bubbled from the sunken ship. The bones of the men on the ship are there in a watery grave. I was young then, but it touched my heart in a deep way ~ I was freshly married then to a Navy man and had many friends who were heading into VietNam. The Arizona's history was not lost on me.

Today, as you go about your business please take a moment to honor the heroes who gave their lives for our freedom on December 7, 1941. If you have already done so, thank you and bless you.

Thanks to you all . ..

2008-11-26T10:30:00.000-08:00

First, I want to apologize to all of you. I promised to share my gratitude with you every day . . . and my Internet went out. I've been fighting with the cable company for days. Finally I can say I'm grateful to be back online.

It's so close to Thanksgiving that I need to get caught up quickly. It's easy to be thankful for the big stuff that happens in our lives. We look at our new car, home, appliances and such ~ easy gratitude. The small stuff is what has held me through my life . . .

. . . in the midst of my fear, anxiety, depression and sadness somewhere a voice comes to me with these words. Truth is ~ it does pass. For those who've said it to anyone . . . Thank you.

So many times words aren't enough, but a small graphic~smiley. I'm so grateful for those little nothings. You care enough when I am alone and careless.

Several times a day, Rob comes in to rub my feet for me. He has even washed them for me. There is a kindness in his touch that I can't explain.

**I must apologize again, as my Internet was just restored again. I have tried to be kind to the repair guys and all the telephone operators I've dealt with. It has been their Thanksgiving week as well. Does it count if I cry from frustration? I am at least trying to be thankful.

A homeless gal that we knew from church has been here several days in the last month. She has been by to help us with some cleaning and actually scrubbed the walls and baseboards in the hallway. Her son is also homeless, living in the local river bottom. On Monday, Rob asked them to join us for Thanksgiving. It was a wonderful meal. Turkey, all the fixing's and pumpkin pie. Tina helped with the things I am unable to do. The boys each took a shower as did their mom. Rob set up cloth bags for each of them with t-shirts, pants, towels, food and a can opener. He added candy and chips, water and soda and paper towel/bath tissue. Our landlord gave each an envelope with 10 $1 bills and Rob gave some cigarettes.

Funny . .. I am filled with deep gratitude for their presence in our home yesterday. I heard laughter and shouts about football. "taste the yams, boys . . .I made them!" Shawn, whose mother hung up on him when he called to wish her happy Thanksgiving, gave me the honor of being his grandma for the day.

I am thankful I have people who love me and who will not walk away or slam the door on me when I am at my worst. I am grateful to know in the deepest part of my heart that the Lord will never leave me nor forsake me.

Giving Thanks

2008-11-18T15:41:00.000-08:00

First, I want to thank Chris for this graphic. Oftentimes I totally forget to give credit where credit is due. Without your help I would still be struggling to get my other graphics and photos into my blogs. Thanks, my friend.

I have a best friend who takes care of me. He loves me when I am unlovable, helps me when I am helpless and shows tenderness at every turn. Yes, of course Jesus is the answer. However the friend I described above is one I can see and touch. He's my husband Rob. Certainly your spouse is supposed to be your best friend, but that doesn't always happen. I am grateful to God for my best friend. Below is a picture of another friend . . . her name is Precious.

We got Precious a couple of years ago. I've had two black Pomeranians before. The first was Sparkle, and escapee from the Fairfield County dog shelter. The next was Teddy. Teddy lived 12 hard years in Mexico. He passed away in 2001. We had other pommies, but I just fell in love with the black ones. Precious was my chance to fall in love again. I am so thankful to have her. One of the cutest things she does is pray. Praying is serious business to her. Rob and I start our day with prayer. If Precious is outside, she will raise a huge fuss if we start without her. We can't fool her, not even if we pray in the farthest room away from her. She jumps on the couch while we sing or begin prayer and calms almost immediately. I think she is thankful as well.

I am thankful for my sister Sharon. For years our relationship was pretty terrible. I took her place as the baby of the family. She teased me a lot (I am still sensitive to teasing). I went wild in my teens/early 20's. She took care of my kids for a while. We had an uneasy peace. About 25 years ago, I promised to take my mom to see her. On that visit we realized we had a lot more stuff in common than we thought. In an instant our relationship was healed. All our dislikes disappeared like water flows over rocks downhill. I believe God intervened and gave us back to each other. Sisters are good, yes they are!

Today I am grateful for God in my life, my husband, my Precious, my sister and for you . . .

THANKFUL

2008-11-17T13:34:00.000-08:00

Seems like decades ago . . . when I first had a journal/blog on that other place . . . can't say the name right now or I will lose my thankfulness . . . I asked others to post on their blog or in my comments the things they were thankful for. I actually asked them to do it every day. Of course I had to make an entry every day for the month of November leading up to Thanksgiving. I loved the posts and comments. So . . . for the next 10 days, I want to talk about my thankfulness. If you'd like to join me, put a comment here or post something in your blog and leave me a link.
I have so many reasons to be thankful, but if I tell them all today, I won't have any left for my next entries. I will start with a few things.

I am grateful for my mom. She's been gone 11 years now, but a couple of nights ago I saw her in my dream. I usually don't see her face in my dreams, but I saw it this time. Mom had undying love for her 4 daughters and many grandchildren. She had faith in me when everyone else had given up. Of course I was/am the baby ~ 8 years younger than my next-oldest sister, and she spoiled me. She encouraged my creativity and my love of learning. One of my most treasured memories is when she came to my college graduation (I was 41 years old). As I crossed the stage to receive my diploma, I saw her at the back of the room crying tears of joy. I am so thankful that the Lord let me be her daughter.

I am thankful for each of my 5 husbands. Each one came into my life and loved me in their own way. I learned about myself with them. Well, I'm still learning with Rob. I grew emotionally, learned my weaknesses, gained wisdom and a strong(er) will with each marriage. I am very grateful now to have stopped marrying. (Whew!)

I'm grateful that the sun rose today and I with it. Sometimes I wonder if we know how very precious each day is. My last husband died in the space of a day. All the tomorrows we had lined up were not to be. When I waken every day, I remember that my "wild" days alone could have taken me off this earth. Really. One day 43 years ago, I gave my son up for adoption. Another day 16 1/2 years later, he found me. I have had so many days that were not all that great. There have been at least 100 times more good days than bad. I look forward to tomorrow. Because after all, if I wake up I will have at least one more day to be thankful.

I'm not sure how to put this . . . I've been watching my state burn once again. I have cried over the losses. Just north of me in Montecito over 200 multi-million dollar homes were lost. I'm grateful I don't live there. I am so very grateful that so far, no one has died as a direct result of the fires. I am also thankful that as awful as the fires were to watch and read about, I am still human. One of God's kids, as it were. It hurts, but I am happy that I still care enough.

I'm grateful for you . . .

Remember Television?

2008-11-08T16:33:00.000-08:00

When I was four, my grandparents bought us a television. We were the first in our neighborhood to have one. It was a big brown (mahogany?) cabinet with both a TV and radio. That box was so fascinating to me. Most of the time, it seemed it had only a screen with an Indian head in the middle. I'm not sure what my first program was ~ it may have been Howdy Doody. The set was a little girl's delight. My mom and my 3 sisters would sit down to watch together. Because my sisters were all in school, I got to watch in the daytime. The people and others in there were my friends. I thought they lived in there. At nap time, my mother would turn off the television and close the doors. I would rest, waiting to rush back to my friends. I thought that when the set was turned off they were all in there waiting for it to be turned back on. I was quickly disappointed when they weren't there to greet me. I held on to the delusion for a while.

The place where we lived was huge to me. In our front yard were two huge palm trees. They were equidistant to the center of the house. Our entrance was a set of french doors. As we went inside, the dining room was to the right, living room to the left. Behind the dining room was the kitchen. Our bedrooms were behind the living room. A central hall led us to the bedrooms and the other kitchen door. I slept in the room with my mother, my sisters Sylvia and Sharon shared a room and Charlotte slept in a sort of sun porch way at the rear of the house. I loved Charlotte as if she were a second mother to me. I even placed my pet snails on her pillow one early morning to show my love for her. When she stopped screaming, mama had a little talk talk with me about snails in the house.

Our back yard was a veritable treasure for a little tomboy. We had fruit trees to climb, a really fun set of clotheslines for me to ruin from time to time and lots of dirt and grass to keep me wretchedly dirty. My mom kept me in overalls instead of dresses. We had a brown dog whose name I can't remember. He was my protector. He protected so much that one day he pulled me from an apricot tree in the neighbor's yard and I was hurt. I cried because mom gave the dog to the dog catcher.

Just after that, my mom found that a skunk was living under the house. I had never seen one and didn't know why she and my sisters were making such a fuss. I thought it was the cutest kitty I had ever seen . . . it was in what I now know was a trap. I thought the kitty was thirsty, so I poured some water in his cage. He sprayed me all over! Mom burned the clothes and I spent some time in a bath of tomato juice. I actually loved all the attention. I just didn't quite know what all the noise was about.

There is a lot of water that has passed under the bridge since then. I no longer believe people live inside the television. I still love the classical music that my mom played all the time. I love dogs . . . we have 4 little ones now. My sisters grew up and married by the time I was eight years old. I lived the life as a spoiled "only" child. I'm still spoiled. I haven't played with any skunks lately, although I still think they are beautiful. It's been a long time since I played in the mud or climbed a tree. I wish I could climb a tree now . . . there's always a spectacular view from the top.

As always, I think about you all and pray for you. Please say a special prayer tonight for Donna of D's Designs as she recovers from a heart attack and bypass surgery. Many blessings,

2008-10-13T12:10:00.000-07:00

In most of Southern California, we don't get to see fall colors as they are seen in other parts of the country. Today it is dry and sunny and the Santa Ana winds are blowing. This is a dangerous time for many of us. Where there are dry grasses, weeds and old trees, the fire probability is very high.

This morning I have been tuned to a local Los Angeles station. All regular programming has been suspended as they report on fires in the San Fernando Valley, Porter Ranch, Santa Paula and one that has started somewhere in the San Bernardino area. None of these are very close to us, thank God. The closest is a little more than 17 miles away. Right now they are reporting that 10 people are stranded in their homes and ranches as they try to get their horses out. The road is closed now. Horse trailers are waiting at the entrance to the canyon to help move the 60 horses.

It makes you think. Knowing that this happens nearly every October/November, why are the grasses not cleared? Mobile homes and businesses have been destroyed, hundreds of homes are threatened and 1 man and his dog have died. Other than Mexico, I have never lived anywhere but Southern California. I was evacuated from my home because of a mountain fire. I wasn't afraid because I was so young and we didn't lose our house. My mom was frantic to protect me. I cannot possibly imagine what these families are going through. More than 1,200 have been evacuated and more have just been ordered out. It's dismal, yet I continue to have my eyes fixed on the television.

Blogger is harder for me to negotiate than my AOL blog. I haven't learned how to do things as easy as placing my signature graphic at the end of my post. I need to learn all over again. And you know . . . as some of us get older new technology is really a stumper. Before, we could add a picture or graphic anywhere we wanted to. Some of my J-Land friends have already figured this out. I really hope one of them will post some instructions for those of us who are technologically challenged.

For my friends who are following or finding this blog; I love you all and you are daily in my prayers.

Blessings, Penny

2008-10-05T13:19:00.000-07:00

Good Afternoon from sunny California! Rob and I had to go out to buy a new battery for the Explorer. He wouldn't believe me the other day when I told him we needed a new one. He said we just needed new connector ends for the cables. He charged the battery for a day, added water to the cells, took it out this morning for a spin. All good except when he parked it and tried to start it again. I hate always being right ;)

Yesterday it drizzled, rained, drizzled all day. Kind of unusual for this early in the year. The sun is shining again today as I write this. Oh! How I love the California coast. I tried the mountains for about 3 months earlier this year as AOL journalers will remember. It was cold and miserable for two months, almost tolerable for the next month and I left before it got hotter than hades. My daughters and family suffered up to 117 degree heat for most of the summer. Now it is cooling down again and has been raining for three days up there. UGH! I am so happy to be home.

During the the drizzle and rain yesterday, we let mom and puppies come in. They love the outside, but they are all so small that cold weather and rain could make them sick. Of course the puppies were too ignorant to get out of the rain, even when their mama barked at them to get in the dog house. Precious (mama) won't go out in the rain, drizzle or what have you until she absolutely has to go potty. The old lady (14) refuses to come inside at all, but is wise enough to stay in the dog house. I enjoyed playing with Precious and her pups. Precious always comes in for prayer. If we start without her, she cries. She sits very quietly next to me and seems to understand that this is a special time for us. We call her our "praying pup".

A couple of people have asked me about my son John Scalzi, who was our journal "guru" for some time on AOL. His latest book "Zoe's Tale" came out around the first of August. He and his wife and daughter are doing just fine. You can find him at: http://www.whatever.scalzi.com/ His adventures are there, however he may be setting up a second blog for personal entries. If so, you can find it at Whatever.

I hope to be blogging more regularly than I was at AOL. I get lazy sometimes, but since so many of us are going to be here now, I hope to suit up and show up, as it were, to this new journal. I hope that any of you that find me here will post a comment so I may find out your new home as well.

Blessings, Penny

It's hard to teach an old dog new tricks

2008-10-02T14:03:00.000-07:00

This is my first post over here at Blogger. It may take me a while to get adjusted to the new lifestyle. Right now I feel betrayed by AOL. I started journalling there in our J-Land. I pray that my old J-Land friends and I can keep up the community spirit. Many thanks to Sugar for this graphic.

I've decided to name it Growin' Old Gracelessly because that's just what I am doing. My ascent up the ladder of life (or is it down?) has been rugged. Currently my back is fractured, my hip may fracture from osteoporosis, I have polyneuropathy, fibromyalgia, osteoarthritis, degenerative spine disorder and chronic depression/bipolar. I'm also more than 50 lbs overweight. Get the picture? I probably won't mention it again.

My Husband Rob and I live on the central coast of California where the weather is darn near perfect. We are retired missionaries. I/we have 4 children, 15 grandchildren and 1 great-grandchild. Little by little I may post pictures of all but our youngest daughter who is 14 and lives with her 41 year-old sister. We have 4 dogs, 3 Pomeranians (mother and 2 babies), an aging Shitzu and 2 Cockatiels.

There's so much more I want to write about, but the words are not coming. Oh! I am writing a book about my experiences as a missionary in Mexico. It's started and I have a few chapters done. Heaven knows when I will finish it.

Be blessed in the Lord today, Penny