Joy and Strength

Happy 2019! It’s funny how many of us start our New Year with a list of things we are going to do or not do. These things we hope will forever change our lives… and many of us discover a week later that we didn’t follow the new plan, continue at the gym, carbs are back with extra pounds and so are our old habbits.

The number of self help books continue to grow, along with a new fad diet or exercise program, and yet our resolve cannot get us to week two of our grand plan for life change.

What if you had an ultimate guide book. A guide that stood the ultimate test of time. Translated into many languages. You can even get it for free to read or listen to. Some think if it is “free” there is deminished value. And yet, the price was one that none could afford. It is gifted to us.

And yet we go through each NEW day, NEW week, NEW month even NEW YEAR with the same old habbits, stress and maybe some additional anxiety.

What if there was ONE THING… that would make everything else easier or unnecessary?

MY FRIEND – God can do that for YOU! HIS Word and YOUR Story can change lives. Where does your HOPE come from? What IF you could have strength trough the storm and JOY during troubles.

I know, it sounds to good to be true. But it isn’t… what if millions of lifes over the span of time could be tracked with proof that THIS could change your life.

One thing I am sure of…IF you put God first all other THINGS in life will fall into place and you will experience JOY and STRENGTH like never before.

So what are you waiting for? What do you have to loose? You know your made for more. So don’t be afraid to move. Your faith’s all it takes and you can walk on water too. Step out.

911 an emergency that changed our lives…(and death)

Most people remember where they were “that day” (9/11/2001).

I do. I also remember that week. I had lost someone I loved dearly. Someone who taught me what a best friend was. She showed me what peace looked like in the middle of a storm. Days prior my best friend, Melissa, lost her battle with cancer.

9/11 changed many lives…for Melissa, it changed her death.

See, many out of town relatives and friends could now not fly as flights were cancelled; airports shut down and many wanted to stay close to home truly not knowing what tomorrow held. Though she and others knew her days were numbered… we would all reflect on that feeling after 9/11.

I remember her attitude through surgery’s, chemo, side effects and oxygen tanks…she had peace that transcended understanding. She asked for nothing except ‘to be burried like her Lord’.

Melissa and I couldn’t have been more different. She quiet…me, not so much. There were times I think I even got angry for her – because she should have been.

Our Pastor told me it was like we were meshed together. She had a voice like angel, was blessed with the gift of music you heard when she played the guitar and yet she was reluctant to ever stand in the spot light.

Everyone was praying for healing…but what they didn’t see is God was healing…not her, the people around her.

I remember her service like it was yesterday. Amazed that someone who seemed so meek and so quiet touched so, so many lives.

The church was packed. I think it held 300+ and the back was standing room only. I stood in awe. Reflecting on the small things that touched so many. She was leaving behind three daughters, the youngest just entering Jr. High.

The music scheduled…picked by her, was stuck on the west coast visiting another church. So his recording would have to do.

The other song…well, she had recorded a song for my birthday ‘just for me’ and I shared it with others in her world. So once again she touched them with her beautiful gifts.

I remember being asked to read a eulogy that was written by a relative who also could not fly in. I thought how could I ever do that…read in front of all these people who she had profoundly touched and not loose it… how could I do this and convey the love it was written in without turning into a blubbering idiot. I prayed about it – and I remembered her peace.

I remembered the few words her mother shared in the hospital…”the 23rd Psalm is for the living not the dead”. Her mother sadly chose not to attend. This was the second child she was burying… and “a Mother should never have to bury her children.”

The chorus of the song she played…

Blessed are those who have not seen, and yet believe.

And blessed are the hands that keep giving yet never recieve.

Blessed is the heart that gets broken and keeps holding on… Holdin’ on…cause that what it means to live by faith.

….

The other song she loved… I will walk and follow Jesus.

And so 17 years after all the events of 911, I encourage you to keep believing, keep giving and walk by faith. Walk and follow Jesus.

My prayers are with those who lost their best friends and loved ones. The Mothers who had to bury their children. The First Responders who chose to run in – while others were running out.

Take to heart the feeling of knowing your days are numbered. Hug and love those closest to you remembering what is truly important.

9/11/2018

raised by GRACE

Happy Birthday!

Today is grandparent’s day. Today would have been my Grandma’s 104th birthday. Sunday, 9/9/18.

The best gift she gave me, was making sure we were in church. I was the kid that grew up in church (not Sunday school).

She was born a twin. One of nine siblings from Dixon, IL. Her claim to fame late in life, dating the “other” Reagan brother.

She didn’t talk a lot about her past. Just the highlights (I guess). Her parents from Germany, songs they sang like Johnny Schmoker and some Elvis song with German in it.

She could turn chili for two into chili for 20. She was there for me when I was very little. And I chose to be there when I got older (yet missed so much). She was my rescue from the storm(s).

The only thing she shared about life’s trials was her double mastectomy. I remember seeing the scars that went from top all the way down. Two scars on each side. But she didn’t complain about it. Hugging her as she got older was interesting – she replaced foam cups with plastic ones (before Madonna).

I remember she kept my grandfather’s underclothes… long after he passed. I remember the blush she wore. A plastic container that held three colors. She wasn’t one for a lot of makeup.

If I was interested in art…she was… and her stick figure animals will live forever in my memories. Hot chocolate pudding, Easter ham with brown sugar and pineapple… and boxes…

…Boxes, it seemed like my Grandma could never bare to unpack her memories. She wasn’t one for shopping sprees and she believed we should take care of what we had and make it last.

Special things should be kept for ‘special occasions’. She enjoyed broasted chicken and once in a blue moon beer and pretzels.

You would never know that she was ‘poor’. She was a giver and fixer.

Later in life I realized that my memories were that (my memories). We each have our own experiences.

If they only knew the time she spent in devotion. The time she would would pray for her family.

She, like all of us, wanted to be accepted and loved by her children and grandchildren.

I don’t recall her having any friends or social circles…It was all about her family. I don’t recall her having a hobby or “me time”.

One album she wore out… Jim Reeves… Sacred Hymms: Precious Lord, Whispering Hope, In the Garden, Teach me How to Pray.

So, today I am thankful as I realize this is part of my story for HIS GLORY. Happy Birthday Grandma!!!

I was indeed raised by Grace.