Patriotism and praise punctuates 4th of July Weekend event

A resounding prelude of brass, woodwinds and strings, soon joined by some 150 voices in a choir and then a few thousand throughout the sanctuary singing "America the Beautiful," launched a 4th of July Weekend celebration of praise and patriotism at Crossings Community Church in Oklahoma City.

While soul-stirring music bookended the two-hour presentation Sunday, the emotional highlight was when the orchestra played songs of the various branches of the armed forces, and an estimated 450 men and women who are serving or have served flooded the aisles in a stream of red, white and blue to come forward and each receive special a Medal of Gratitude. A prolonged, thunderous ovation accompanied them.

Medal of Honor recipient Sammy L. Davis's brief but powerful remarks regarding his service in Vietnam, helped punctuate the bravery and sacrifices of those who have served in the U.S. military to safeguard the nation's freedom and values. He ended with a harmonica solo of "Shenandoah" that conveyed a heartfelt message beyond words.

The hosts were musicians and worship leaders from Crossings Community Church in Oklahoma City, led by Larry Harrison, who came on board as pastor of worship ministries last August. The connectedness of Crossings' leaders to the community, music and ministry far and wide was on display all evening.

Award-winning Christian recording artist Sandi Patty is now the artist-in-residence at Crossings, where her husband, Don Peslis, is pastor of chapel worship and they have been members more than eight years. Patty sang several selections from her enduring career that fit the occasion, including the soaring rendition of "The Star-Spangled Banner" that catapulted her from gospel recording star to national sensation after she performed it July 4, 1986, in New York City at the 100th anniversary of the Statue of Liberty.

Also featured was the Alabama-based male vocal quintet Veritas, with stunningly beautiful performances of "Amazing Grace," "Bring Him Home" and "The Lord's Prayer."

A video message from U.S. Senator James Lankford, R-Oklahoma City, highlighted the theme "God Bless America -- America Bless God." The theme also was articulated in a song co-written and performed by Harrison.

For the finale, Patty and the orchestra began with the less-familiar first verse of "God Bless America," with the choir, all the guest singers and everyone in the sanctuary joining in for the tradition lyrics, in an aural explosion of patriotism and praise. 

Below are the lyrics to "America Bless God," which I found online in the linked post from 2004. It said it could be shared freely.

http://www.freerepublic.com/focus/f-news/1165518/posts 

America Bless God

by Larry Harrison & Joel Mott 


From the mountains of majesty

to the amber waves of grain

I see the blessing of your hand

and recall a familiar refrain

We sing God bless America

won't you come and bless us once again

But your heart longs to hear

a nation fall on its knees and say

America Bless God

all across the fruited plains

America Bless God

lift your voice and praise his holy name

For he's been good, he's been faithful

by his hand our nation stands

So won't you sing all across this land

America bless God

America bless God

Cautionary

(Hits & Misses: A Cautionary Tale)

Sunday, I had the opportunity to use a ticket someone had bought but couldn't use to attend a local production of "Beauty and The Beast." It wasn't on my long to-do list for the day, but when I thought of what was on the list, I saw no reason not to go. I thoroughly enjoyed the show, especially the beautiful voice and personality of the actress playing Belle. I felt grateful and blessed to be able to go. 

It wasn't until nighttime that I realized that while I was at "Beauty and the Beast" I was missing the memorial service for a longtime church member. Although I had not seen the man and his family in many years, I had planned to attend to offer support. But I completely forgot. By Monday morning, I was mortified: What is wrong with my mind and heart that I would do that? 

And despite the Scriptures of the morning's Jesus Calling, I couldn't see how I was where God would have had me be. I want to use this time of unemployment to show compassion and support and also to rekindle some friendships. And it seemed as if I missed a good opportunity.  So how could I not wonder: What is wrong with me? And what do I do now?? Is there something I need to let God fix? Or is this really right where God wants me to be??

The scriptures from Jesus Calling:

We are assured and know that [God being a partner in their labor] all things work together and are [fitting into a plan] for good to and for those who love God and are called according to [His] design and purpose. —Romans 8:28 amp

Then Job replied to the Lord: “I know that you can do all things; no plan of yours can be thwarted. You asked, ‘Who is this that obscures my counsel without knowledge?’ Surely I spoke of things I did not understand, things too wonderful for me to know.”  —Job 42:1–3

Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you. —1 Peter 5:7

We live by faith, not by sight. —2 Corinthians 5:7

I found myself wondering: Is this my payback for years of good intentions and inept follow-through? A heart-wrenching lesson for me and others?

And what now?? Monday morning, I faced another choice: an OA meeting or prayer time at church (for which I would be late because of a doctor appointment). I chose the meeting, but I made the decision intentionally, taking time to check my calendar and to-do list and make sure I hadn't overlooked anything. As the day played out, it seemed to be a good decision. 

Sometimes my choices, whether planned or spontaneous, seem to hit the mark of God's calling. But often they look to me as if they miss the mark. Sometimes it's not clear until after the fact that a seemingly wayward choice had merit. And in Sunday's case, I can see why being at the musical was good, even as I doubt it was the greater good. Unless I go back to Scripture and trust God's bigger picture. 

So that's what I'm continuing to do. Pray, trust and try to obey. Live and learn. And give God the glory. 

Wrapping up Christmas

Christmas with family was blessed, fun, peaceful, heartwarming and humbling. 

I had dreaded the logistics of working into the evening on Christmas Eve, going to an 11 p.m. worship service then getting up fairly early Christmas Day to head to McKinney for an overnight visit  with my husband's family. After the Friday return to Norman was a Saturday trip to Stillwater, and, likely, a swing by Greenwood, Ark., before returning home again to Norman on Sunday. (I really didn't even give much thought to what looked like a small chance of snow.)

If it were up to me to make all that take place smoothly, I'm pretty sure it would not happen. But by the grace of God and with amazing support from my husband, the moments unfolded calmly and gracefully. 

Gifts of presence included talking and listening; patience; smiles and laughter; and advice only when asked. 

My new iPhone with a better camera and extra memory let me take pictures with abandon -- and many of them captured fun moments with siblings, in-laws, nieces, nephews and "grands." 

Gift-giving and receiving often stress me out, and the preparation certainly did this year as well. But the new and appreciated conclusion this year was satisfaction with gifts given, instead of the usual

second-guessing. 

Meanwhile, I was humbled to receive way too much. All I could do was say thank you. (I also made a mental pledge to start getting rid of some of my accumulated possessions, and I have made early efforts toward that.)

One of my gifts was the trip to Greenwood. It was as if God put it on my heart to carry some of the Stillwater festivities to those unable to attend. 

A thought that comes to mind is that a person cannot outgive a God. I was trying to be less selfish, but it seems even my smallest efforts toward others returned blessings to me. That was not my intent. But how can I not be grateful?

Throughout the Christmas festivities, starting with the choir cantata on Dec. 14 and continuing with the Christmas Eve worship service and several of my daily devotionals, a prominent Scripture was John 3:16: "For God so loved the world that He gave His only Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life."  It's not a traditional Scripture associated with Christmas, but it really gets to the heart of the reason for the season. 

How does one respond to such a gift? Share it. But how? I continue to pray to know how and to do it. 

Defining moments: Miracle in Barcelona

For all the glorious sights and experiences of my nine-day European cruise, the defining moments unfolded in an unplanned window of time as I found myself alone in the crowd of humanity at Barcelona's Park Guell, without identification, money, credit card or a phone.

Heading out about 8:45 a.m. Tuesday with a tour group for A Closer Look at Gaudi, I was thinking again that I was out of my element. Here I was on the final day of an expenses-paid cruise from Dover, England, to Barcelona, Spain, that I had done nothing to deserve and seemed unqualified to appreciate to its fullest. From the moment the travel opportunity came up, I had prayed to know whether to say yes, and also for understanding of God's will whether I accepted the trip or stayed home. The answers were still unclear. But the uncertainty did not keep me from enjoying the overall trip or this tour, which was taking the group past numerous notable buildings, including at least two designed by renowned Spanish artist and architect Gaudi.

Then we arrived at his Park Guell, a beautiful and fascinating creation with terraces, steps, houses, columns, colorful mosaics and designs. It wasn't crowded when we got there, but became more and more so. I was taking pictures as usual with my little Canon and my iPhone. All was going pretty well until the Canon quit working. I couldn't get it to come back on after it closed when not in use. I tried swapping out the batteries, and it still wouldn't work, and then I swapped memory cards. Still nothing. So I took the batteries out again and blew on them. And it came back on. What a relief!

By now, the group was heading back to the tour bus. Unfortunately, when I got there, I couldn't find the memory card. The original one. Which meant I had no pictures except those on the iPhone. I looked through all my stuff, and it wasn't there. What am I going to do? I mentioned it to the people around me and the tour guide, and she said there was no time to wait for me to go and look for it, which I knew. But she and several people seemed to be encouraging me to go back to look, and then to take a cab to the next stop: Gaudi's La Sagrada Familia. I finally decided to do that, after making sure I had money for the cab ride to the landmark cathedral.

Stepping out

As I stepped off the bus and walked unaccompanied back into the gardens, I started praying. I expressed praise and gratitude and trust in God. I acknowledged I was unworthy of a miracle, but humbly asked for one. I also affirmed to God my trust that, whatever happened, it would be OK, even though, by this time, I felt more "out of my element" than ever. I was aware that, without a guide to lead the way in the park crossed with many paths and levels, I was unsure even which way we had come while I was trying to get the camera to work.

At some point, I was thirsty and started trying to fish a water bottle out of my bag. I got my drink and kept going. Along the way I also saw a cat and had to take a picture, even as I became aware I probably wouldn't find my little camera case and the memory card within it. I knew I didn't have all day to look, because I was to rejoin the tour at the La Sagrada Familia. I decided to call my husband and just tell him I had lost the memory card with all my pictures, but that I knew there could be much worse things to lose, so I would just go on.

And then I began to experience what could only be classified at the moment as "much worse." I could not find my phone. And as I kept looking, I realized I could not find my wallet, either. Usually the phone was in a zippered pocket on the outside of my nylon backpack, and the wallet was in a smaller bag inside the nylon one. But in my rush to make sure I had money and phone before getting off the tour bus, they ended up together in the smaller bag.

I didn't know whether one of the pickpockets I had been warned about had gotten it, or if it had fallen out when I got the water. All I knew was that I now was in a busy city park in Barcelona without identification, money, credit card or a phone.

No longer was I praying for a little miracle. I knew I needed a big one.

Here, the idea that I don't deserve a miracle -- nor did I deserve the trip -- returned. Still, I prayed. In faith. With confidence. Not knowing what to expect.

Instead of writing notes about sites in Barcelona, I began filling my journal with what was in my mind, trying to stay focused and calm, writing out prayers: "Lord, I trust You. I thank You for Your presence." Lessons: "Don't go alone! Never go alone! And even so, trust God. Trust God. Don't cry. Pray for calm. Seek help." "Be gracious." "I trust You, God. It will be OK."

Having no idea where this would lead or how long it would last, my first stop was the bathroom, then I checked with the gift shop in the area where I had looked for the camera card. The young clerk spoke English and said items that are found sometimes are brought there, but my bag had not come. He told me where I might find police to help me. I looked some more for the bag containing my phone, money and ID, praying and hoping against hope, but didn't find it.

Meanwhile, by about 11:30 a.m., a police van had come to the gift shop area. Fortunately, one of the Barcelona Guardia Urban's finest spoke some English, and eventually he was able to reach the cruise line by telephone. An official there suggested the policeman get me a taxi and assure the driver the fare would be paid when I arrived at the terminal. (It never occurred to me or the police to call my cellphone! Duh! That's another lesson to learn from this.)

Overwhelmed

It was in the taxi that emotions started to overwhelm me as I thought of the lost pictures and the lost opportunity -- and how helpless I felt. I also felt embarrassed, stupid, humbled, grateful -- but fortunately never really scared or alone.

Still, tears formed. All my pictures. Gone. Credit card, gone. Driver's license, gone. Euros and U.S. currency, gone. (At least I knew my passport, the identification needed to fly home, was on the ship.) "If possible, Lord, if it be Your will, please help me not cry. If it's better for me not to cry, please help me not cry. And if it's OK -- then let the tears flow. Or, perhaps, if the tears flow, please help it be OK." (The tears trickled, and it was OK.)

When the taxi arrived at the ship terminal, I was greeted by people from the cruise, who even before paying the fare informed me my bag had been found and would be back at the ship at 2:30. (This was about 1 p.m.) I wasn't totally convinced, but felt hopeful. I got a new room key, then went up, praying and again trying to be positive but hesitant to get my hope up. Shortly, I had a phone message. It was Olivia, a member of my cruise group who also was on the Gaudi tour. She was excited to tell me she had found my bag. I could come and get it in the room next door. But when I got there, it was the camera bag and not the one with the phone, etc. What had been the object of my original search now seemed so insignificant. I felt crushed again. But I thanked her and expressed hope that, possibly, the information about the bag coming back at 2:30 might also be true. Dare I hope? How could I not?

Again, I kept praying, even as I was afraid to get my hopes up. I also considered whether to call Gene yet or wait until I knew whether the bag was found. (I knew that if it wasn't found, I would need my husband's help in canceling credit cards and making other arrangements to get me home. And if it was found, did he even need to know about all this before I got home?) But right around 2:30, the desk called and said my bag with phone and wallet was there. I felt such relief. Oh my. Thank you, God!

It wasn't clear to me where the bag had been or who brought it to the ship, but I was just glad to have it back.

As soon as I had my iPhone, I used it to get online and check email. And I saw Gene had emailed me just after 11 a.m. (4 a.m. Oklahoma time). "Call ASAP. Lost handbag?" As soon as I saw it (about 2:45 in Barcelona and 8:45 in OK), I texted: "Handbag is found. You can call me when you get this or have a chance." He replied that he couldn't call out, so I called him. Little did I know ...

Meanwhile, in the U.S. ...

Gene told me he had been awakened at 4:03 a.m. by a call from my cell phone number. "And it's a guy, speaking English. Good English. Not even an accent." The man said a bag with this phone had been found. And this was the last number called. Gene said it must belong to me, his wife, and that I was on a Crystal cruise. The man said he would make sure the bag and phone get back to the ship. Of course, Gene is wondering what happened to me. "I'm literally thinking you are in the hospital or dead." He knows I often take my purse and phone with me even when I go to the bathroom at home, so for me to be separated from them seemed serious. Had I been kidnapped?

After a couple hours of wondering and worrying, at about 6:30 (7:04?), Gene called my number back, trying to get more information about what was going on. The man said the bag was being taken back to the ship (but he apparently had no idea where I was). Gene said he had not been able to contact me, so the man gave him a phone number for the ship. Gene called and talked to someone on the ship, but that didn't really provide any clarity as to my whereabouts.

So, while I had no idea Gene was aware that my bag had been lost and found, he had no clue about where I was or whether anything had happened to me until I called after 2:30 p.m. Barcelona time (8:48 OK time). (As best I can tell, that was at least four hours without him knowing; some of the times and numbers don't quite add up, based on what Gene and I remember and what time stamps on emails and texts reflect.)

Everything in its place

That night, I met my cruise group for a small party, but decided not to go back into Barcelona with them. I wanted to try to track down the rest of the story of who found my bag and how it got back to the ship and thank whomever was involved.

And, amazingly, I did! The woman at the ship's front desk said the person who brought it back was one of Crystal's ambassador hosts, and he was in the Stardust Club dancing. So I headed that way, and when I was about there, a woman going the other way looked at me and exclaimed, Are you the woman with the lost bag? I said, um, yes. I asked what she knew about that, and she said she and the woman with her were among the people who found my bag and brought it back. So I met her and her sister-in-law -- and the host who was the excursion's escort.

They were with a different tour going through Park Guell. They gathered in an area with benches, and some sat down. When they got up to go on, someone noticed the bag. They thought it belonged to someone from their group, but no one claimed it. As they tried to decide what to do with it, they saw the iPhone. Only one knew how to use it and decided to call last number. That's the call that awakened Gene, who was in Arkansas for a conference.

They could tell by the iPhone pictures that I was on their ship. Plus, one of the women said she recognized me (from my driver's license picture?) as someone on the ship. Of course, like Gene, they had no idea where I was or what had happened to me, so they were quite concerned and were praying, too.

They had been as interested in finding me as I was in finding them. They had checked with the desk later to find out if I had returned to the ship and were relieved to know I did. But we all were glad to get the chance to meet, take pictures, express gratitude to each other -- and thank God!

I've always had faith and an awareness that God loves me, never leaves me and works all things for good as I seek Him and trust Him. And if you asked, I would say I believe in miracles. I believe that, on Tuesday, Sept. 10, 2013, I experienced a miracle in Barcelona. I see no way except for God's perfect, divine intervention that all my lost or misplaced things could have made their way back to me. I just don't think that could all happen by chance.

While I missed my coveted visit to the architecturally and spiritually significant La Sagrada Familia (known, among other things, as a work in progress more than 100 years after it was started), God visited me -- His own work in progress -- in an intimate, powerful and transformative way. I stand in awe of His amazing grace and pray to respond to His glory.

Reflections on February (Courtesy of Leap Day)

The quadrenniel bonus day was good, and it gives me a chance to reflect on February before March arrives.

The email I get each weekday from the Denison Forum included this insight today that fits where I am: Why did Moses want the people to enter Canaan without first exploring the land? Could it be that God's best tomorrow is one we could never understand today? Warren Buffett noted that in business, the rearview mirror is always clearer than the windshield. It is the same with the life of faith--if you look back at all the ways God has provided for you, and you believe that his character does not change, you'll be encouraged to trust him for all you need today. I have a lot of room to grow but am experiencing this in my life.

I see more blessings looking back at February than I was aware of while living it. But I did know of some along the way. Among the highlights:

-- My great-niece Madison Jean's baptism/christening brought together a lot of generations of families and also a lot of shared heritage at the church where my parents brought up me and my siblings, and where now some of the nieces and nephews and their kids also are members. The church will celebrate its 125th anniversary this fall, and I just feel grateful and blessed to still have such strong ties to the church as well as to my family. Not all people have that as they move on in their lives.

-- My closest associate at work gave her two-weeks' notice Feb. 3, and among the staffing changes after her departure is that I am no longer in a rotation where I work days every third month. Now my shift is until midnight except Wednesdays. It seems like that should actually make it easier for me to get a steady routine going, but I've felt a tiredness this month that I didn't notice when I had the hope of the day shift in a couple of months. Or maybe the tiredness comes from adjusting to other changes. (Or maybe it's still some winter blues.) Change is always challenging for me. But by keeping a daily discipline that starts with prayer and meditation, I have thus far come through better than I could have imagined. And to top it off, after going almost the whole month without writing a catchy headline, I came up with one last Friday that won a prize among my peers: Pennies on roadway are not heaven-cent. (It was on a series of photos about the mess from an armored car losing thousands of pennies on a Tulsa highway.)

-- I see signs of progress in relationships. So far, I'm keeping in touch with my friend who left work. I also managed to connect with other old friends from work and the Oklahoma City Gridiron Club when I attended their annual political satire/spoof last weekend. I miss being in that show, but I had a great time being entertained, visiting and also helping the club out by being an usher. Building and maintaining friendships continues to be difficult for me. I'm grateful for any signs of progress.

-- And then there was the cat. I came home late after a Thursday (Feb. 17) at work and noticed Bridget had started to do her squat-and-pee-on-the-carpet routine, which I knew meant she probably had a urinary tract infection. And that means a trip to the vet, and then having to give the cat pills. None of that ever goes well, and I was filled with dread. I just wanted to cry, and I'm pretty sure I did. But I also prayed, and finally called the vet Friday morning. They said to bring her in, so I did. She stayed overnight and the UTI was confirmed. But there was also concern about elevated glucose in her urine and the possibility she might have diabetes. So they kept her over the weekend for more tests. There is some confirmed diabetes in her farm cat heritage, so of course I spent the weekend preparing myself for the worst even as I hoped and prayed for the best. I dreaded hearing the news. But it turned out good: No diabetes. Whew. We just had to give her the pill for her infection for eight more days after I brought her home. The first three days, Gene was able to do it, but then he went on a trip, and I was on my own. I have never been able to give my sweet kitty a pill, and sometimes Gene and I have failed as a team. But somehow, he succeeded on his three days, and I did on mine. A very good decision I made at the vet clinic, without realizing its significance at the time, was to have them trim Bridget's nails while she was there. I think that may have given us the edge in the pill pursuit. I know I also prayed a lot along the way. God knows my heart when it comes to my little girl. I love her. I see her as a gift from God. And I know she is a cat. I'm just grateful she seems healthy again, back to eating, pooping, peeing and wanting to play (but also still enjoying laptime, naptime and prayertime -- and she never stopped purring!).

-- I had several projects I wanted to get done while Gene was gone. He'll be back tomorrow -- and I didn't finish any of it. All of my Scriptures and devotionals this month have encouraged me to not worry about that stuff and just focus on how much God loves me. But as I said at my 12-step meeting today, the husband doesn't seem to be as understanding as the Higher Power on such matters. I guess I have a few more hours to see how this plays out. (I will continue to pray -- and work.) I also pray he returns refreshed, rested and healthy, but is that ever the case after traveling on business?

-- I learned that a popular teacher who taught me and all my siblings in high school had a heart attack Friday and died as he was being prepared for surgery. He was 69. That seems too young to be gone. But Davy Jones of the Monkees also died of a heart attack today, and he was 66. These are reminders to be live each day to the fullest.

-- Valentine's Day and Ash Wednesday were in there, too. And there was some snowfall overnight Feb. 12. Suffice it to say, I survived!

I'm grateful for another month that, even though it often seemed tiring and difficult as I was living it, was clearly a gift from God. Each day is. I want to continue to live in the light of His presence and grow into His likeness.

Faith vs. Works -- And a Time To Be Still

Maybe it's starting to make sense. Since the start of the year, I've been more deliberate about spending quiet time in communion with God. But even as Scriptures reminded me again and again of the importance of spending this time quietly with God, I couldn't shake the thought that God also wants action. After all, doesn't Scripture also say faith without works is dead.

Sunday's sermon text may provide a key. 1 Corinthians 9:25-27. "I therefore so run, not as uncertainly; so fight I, not as one that beateth the air; but I keep under my body, and bring it into subjection ..."

The sermon's focus was the importance of not only running the race, but running with purpose. What is God's purpose for me? What is the prize or goal He wants me to achieve?

Maybe the reason I spend so much time procrastinating or in mindless activity is that I don't have a true sense of purpose. For all my faith and good intentions, I struggle. ... (I am aware of some of the reasons, from childhood on ... Dreams, choices, consequences and realities.) ... And the place to get that settled is in constant communion with God.

But the sermon reminded me that I do need to act. I must discern God's purpose and act. Maybe not today. It seems like it should be soon.

After the sermon, I had a wonderful conversation with a dear friend at church who is about 78 who was talking about why she continues to push herself to be active. She knows the purpose for each action -- to keep her healthy and whole -- and also God's greater purpose for her.

Even as I feel impatient to get to work on the stuff that I think needs to be done, today's readings and Scriptures reminded me again that God is still wanting me to be still, focusing on quietness and trust. "Be still before the Lord ..." (Zechariah 2:13). "In repentance and rest is your salvation, in quietness and trust is your strength ..." (Isaiah 30:15). "My grace is enough for you; for My strength and power are made perfect and show themselves most effective in your weakness" (2 Corinthians 12:9).

This seemed clearer Monday, when I started it, than it does today. I guess that helps explain why I'm not finished with the quiet communion with God, and probably never will be. Maybe God's preparing me for a journey rather than a race. Or maybe I'm on the journey that is preparing me for the race. I think God may be laughing with me right now, as we see how very far I still have to go! I'm grateful to Him for not only leading me, but walking with me, patiently and lovingly. In fact, as slow as it seems we are going, I think He is still telling me to slow down even more. I trust You, Lord Jesus. Lead me, Lord.

Finding peace in the present amid thoughts of past, future

All of my spiritual devotionals point me to Scriptures that remind me of the importance of living in this moment and not getting caught up in the past or the future. And I have learned the value from experience. But it's still hard to do.

In the past week, two things in particular have tempted my mind to wander back or ahead. The first was to learn that the person who has become my best friend and most trusted colleague at work has given her two-weeks' notice. Her last day will be Friday. In the past year especially, but also for quite a while before that, she has been a rock in helping me learn and grow at work as well as in life. She's helped me not give up trying to achieve high standards when they don't seem to matter any more, and we've shared many a conversation about our families, interests, dreams, goals and cats. I am so happy for her and excited about the step she is taking. Many things of where I am personally and at work tell me that this will be a good a time for me to make some changes even as I stay at the job.

So, I am trying to stay focused on the positive things in the future for my friend and for me. But I find myself having to fight off distracting thoughts, such as:
-- where I am after what will be 30 years at my job if I make it to September (I've been a reporter, assistant department editor and religion editor, among other things, but sometimes now I think of myself as "just a copy editor," although I strive to be the best I can and do think the job is very important);
-- how inadequate I seem at developing and maintaining lasting friendships, at work or anywhere else (I have lots of people whom I care about and they care about me, but none that I ever just hang out with for a meal, shopping or a movie);
-- whenever someone as good at her job as my friend leaves, it's harder than some people admit to fill that void. So, at least for the short term, things will be more hectic than ever. And because of the roles she filled, it's possible there will be changes ahead in how things are done, and that's always stressful for me.

So, again, I've been working hard to keep those stressful thoughts at bay and to focus on my trust in God to show me the way in whatever is ahead. By faith, I can be open to change and confident that God will not only equip me for the work but also give me His peace and presence. And with that, I pray, will come a positive, cheerful, grateful attitude.

The second bit of information in the past week that has teased my mind to wander is learning that Whaley Memorial United Methodist Church, the church I grew up in and have maintained ties to, is having its 125th anniversary this year. The timing is interesting as I've become constantly more aware in recent years of how much that church means to me. I blogged about it just last weekend. For some reason, the big anniversary year gives me a sense of urgency to not miss the chance to be a part. One of the things I realized is that I don't even remember being aware of the church's centennial, even though I was married at the church five years earlier and have always attended at least a few times each year when my husband and I visited our parents. (I would have been 28 at the time of that anniversary.) It also brings a few troubling thoughts about why I don't feel more at home at the church where I am a member now. Maybe it's because the reason I feel so much a part of Whaley is my family, and I don't have that as much where I am a member now; it's just me and occasionally my husband -- no connection to grandparents, parents, siblings, nieces, nephews or children of my own there. As with work, I have many people there whom I care love and care about, and they love and care about me. But that same character weakness or whatever that keeps me from really having friendships elsewhere is very present in my church relationships.

Anyway, both of these exciting things have piqued my interest this week. That't not bad in itself. Much of the thinking has been productive and positive. But I have to be vigilant not to get lost in the thoughts of the past or future, especially if those thoughts bring anxiety or regret. Only in the present -- God's presence -- do I find peace and the wisdom to know and the power to do His will.

"I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go; I will guide you with My eye." Psalm 32:8

"The Lord gives strength to His people; the Lord blesses His people with peace." Psalm 29:11

"God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea." Psalm 46:1-2

My Super Sunday

The big event of my Super Bowl Sunday was a large gathering of family and friends for the baptism of my great-niece Madison Jean at early worship at Whaley United Methodist Church in Gainesville, Texas.

Baptisms in which young ones are initiated into the Christian family are always special and cherished and blessed events, but so many aspects of this day made it even richer for me. Part of that may have even come from the realization of having missed these moments with soon-to-be 7-year-old Ami and soon-to-be 3 Heidi at the same church.

But I think the biggest part for me was just such a strong thankfulness to God for the legacy of my churchgoing family. My siblings and I have strong roots at Whaley, where Mom and Dad became members when I was just a young thing. Daddy's parents went there, and it's where we celebrated their lives and his when they passed on. My husband, Gene, and his parents also were longtime members there, although I didn't really know them until after Gene and I met in college. Before Gene's parents died and as my parents aged, I became more and more grateful to God for the church and the love of its people.

And one of the neatest things that has happened is that my oldest sister, Becky, still goes there, and so does her oldest daughter and husband and their two girls. And most recently Becky's daughter-in-law, Brandi, began attending. And it's Brandi's daughter who was baptized. Becky's husband, Tom, and Madison's dad, Danny, are both Catholics, but all attended with many extended family members and friends of various faiths. It was Communion Sunday at Whaley, which in the Methodist church is an open table for all seeking God's grace. And most of those attending did partake.

Then the group gathered for one of the meals that is becoming a family tradition for celebrations at the favorite Smokehouse barbecue restaurant. I have so many pleasant memories of that back room being noisy with conversation, and how it quickly quietens as the food is served, only to pick back up as plates are cleared. Many hugs and smiles and much love are shared along the way.

The only negative for me today was a lot of missed photo opportunities. We let one chance go at church (I wanted a picture of all of Mom's family with Whaley ties), and the next one never really happened. But it's hard to interrupt all that talking and visiting to line up for pictures. So we'll just have to treasure the pictures in our minds. Among mine:
-- Brandi and Danny presenting their precious Madison to be baptized. Brandi also officially transferred her membership to Whaley.
-- My beautiful mom, looking radiant in red, accompanied by her six children: Becky, Barbie, Mike, Pat, Kathy and Amy. And certainly I'm not the only one who strongly felt Daddy's presence with us. (I feel it especially at Communion at Whaley, knowing he made a point of partaking on the final Sunday he was able to attend.)
-- Even with that crowd, Mom took her brother, John, to Sunday school, and Amy and I went, too. I feel so at home and loved among those Christian Thinkers!
-- It's always such a delight to see the other great-nieces and their parents, Emily and Brian, who go to Whaley. Ami and Heidi are full of energy, and you never know what they will say or do.

I've written all these words, and they do not begin to capture what all I am trying to express. But maybe the words will help stir the memories in our hearts as we look back -- and as we go forward.

I thank God for every moment and pray that the family will always treasure this rich heritage and that we will live, love and serve to His glory.

Perils & payoffs of passion (Looking back at January 2012)

This first month of 2012 has been quite a process. In some ways, I feel as if I've made a lot of progress in some important areas. But progress seems to take so much effort, and doubts creep in as to whether I'm on the right track and whether it's worth it.

Perils of passion:
Early this month, someone brought to my attention a mistake in the newspaper
where I work, and asked, How could that happen? I wondered the same thing and, even though it was Saturday, decided to send an email that ultimately suggested a correction be made. Unfortunately, mixed in with my suggestion for a correction were a tone and some words in which I took the side of someone outside the paper instead of one who works there. (The mistake was that the Singing ChurchWomen of Oklahoma were called the Singing Church Ladies of Oklahoma. I wondered how someone couldn't question that, since it made me think of a "Saturday Night Live" skit, which could be considered offensive.) I will say I was reminded when I returned to work many of the reasons someone might not question that. And the most important thing I was reminded of was that this still is an area in which I struggle. I try so hard not to make mistakes, to the point of it making me slow at my work. And I do still make mistakes. But it's hard for me to imagine that I would not have questioned that. I question things constantly at work. I consider it my job. Even so, I need to watch my tone when I respond to the mistakes of others. It brought back to mind the time a superviser described me in an employee evaluation as "offputting." I laugh now, but that was such a shock and insult to me at the time to think someone could describe me like that. But even then, the bottom line seemed to be that I expected too much of people at work and wasn't diplomatic enough in working with others. The funny thing about that is when I think of what I might have been like had I not TRIED so hard to be diplomatic. I really did and do try, even in the deal this month!

Payoff of passion:
One of my dear sweet Facebook friends posted about a relationship change, and it caused me some fear that she might react with some unhealthy choices. I wanted to respond, but I was hesitant to do so. I don't want to meddle, etc. But I did send a positive, encouraging and honest message. And I prayed and prayed. It's another extremely fine line of knowing whether to express anything or how much; what I hear a lot of people say is that they hold back because they don't want to interfere. But my heart sometimes says I just must. And eventually, and so far, there has been a good response. I continue to lift this dear one up in prayer and am trusting she will find her best path.

Perils of persistence?
As I continue to try to make a habit of chewing less gum (that sounds funny was I read it); not be obsessed with certain tv shows; type on my iPhone with my thumbs instead of my left index finger; spend quiet time daily in prayer and meditation (rather than praying as I go, whether while lying in bed, pedaling on my exercise bike, walking down the hall or showering), I can't help but wonder whether it's just a new way of self-obsessing. Yesterday's reading in Jesus Calling said: "Whatever occupies your mind the most becomes your god." Immediately I was convicted. What do I think of most? Me! How embarrassing. I'd already done some prayerful soul searching about this and continue to do so. Right now, I still think God is leading me on the path of developing these more positive disciplines so that I will be freed from some of the bad habits and have more time and energy to love and serve God and others. But today's reading makes me take another look at that, as it suggested: "Instead of assessing your energy level and wondering about what's on the road ahead, concentrate on staying in touch with Me (Jesus)." The focus this month has been on trusting Jesus. On Jan. 4, the suggestion was to learn a new habit. "Try saying, 'I trust You, Jesus,' in response to whatever happens to you." And I've turned to that often.

Power of prayer:
And I turn to it now. Toward the end of the month, I've felt discouraged that some of these positive changes still don't come naturally. They take more time and effort than I think they should. Have they become idols? But again I am reinforced by Scriptures that God gives me as I spend quiet time with Him each morning (and the purring cat He places on my lap). They remind me God gives me all the strength and energy and direction and grace and guidance and love and more than I could ever even think I need or would ask for. He does it through the love of family and friends and the kindness of strangers. And His concept of time is not mine.

Today, I asked Him: Are you directing me to try to fix some things with me (discipline of gum, soap operas, blog, prayer time, etc.) or is this my will and another crutch? I believe You are leading me, Lord. I trust You to correct me if I am going astray. My hope is You. My prize is You. I pray to know and do Your will, Lord, one moment at a time, in all things, to Your glory.

Inspiration at the start of 2012

Psalmcat 52:1.1.12

On New Year's Eve, I wrote down three thoughts for 2012: Keep it simple. Keep it spiritual. Let God lead.

So, today the year began, and it didn't seem much like a holiday. Gene spent most of the day in bed with a cold or more, and Bridget still can't keep much food down. (I think it's hairballs.) I thought we would have Communion to start the new year at church; instead, we had a guest speaker so the preacher could travel with his family. (The guest did a superb job.) And the person who was supposed to do special music could not sing today.

I really struggled not to overeat and overchew. Gene being sick in bed didn't help. I did cook us a meal of ham, black-eyed peas, salad and crescent rolls. I knew he didn't have much appetite or taste, but eating black-eyed peas is a tradition for us. Here's to a healthy and prosperous 2012.

More vital to the success of the year, however, will be what I finally started tonight. I bought my own copy of Jesus Calling, a daily devotional book Mom received after Daddy died. "Come to me with a teachable spirit, eager to be changed." That's how it started today, with reference to one of my favorite Scriptures, Jeremiah 29:11. The devotionals are designed to help the reader be open to and experience God's presence.

I also started a daily devotional prayer journal I received for Christmas. The two books are not related, but if the first day is an indication, they will complement and enhance each other. The Scripture reference there was The Message version of "Create in me a clean heart, oh God, and renew a right spirit within me." And it also led me to re-examine Psalm 139:23-24 -- "Search me, oh God, and know my heart ... and lead me in the way everlasting."

I also want to share this, from Debbie Hazen Bennett, a cousin of my friend Susan. I was just going to pass along excerpts, but it is so real and resonant as written that I will not change anything. So, with this, just thank You, God, for another day to live and learn to serve You in grace and love.

12 things that I wish I had known at 25 ~ Or more accurately, 12 things that, had I put them into action, would have made my life a lot easier. Some are bits of advice that wisdom figures have told me and took years to sink in. Others are the result of some hard knocks. A few are insights from the great spiritual masters that I've adapted for my own life. Maybe a few will help someone you know who's 25. Maybe one or two will help you.
1. First up: Stop worrying so much! It's useless. (I.e. Jesus was right.)
2. Being a saint means being yourself. Stop trying to be someone else and just be your best self. Saves you heartache.
3. There's no right way to pray, any more than there's a right way to be a friend. What's "best" is what works best for you.
4. Remember three things and save yourself lots of unneeded heartache: You're not God. This ain't heaven. Don't act like a jerk.
5. Your deepest, most heartfelt desires are God's desires for you. And vice versa. Listen. And follow them.
6. Within you is the idea of your best self. Act as if you were that person and you will become that person, with God's grace.
7. Don't worry too much about the worst that can happen. Even if it happens, God is with you, and you can handle it. Really.
8. You can't force people to approve of you, agree with you, be impressed with you, love you or even like you. Stop trying.
9. When we compare, we are usually imagining someone else's life falsely. So our real-life loses out. I.e. Compare and despair.
10. Even when you finally realized the right thing, or the Christian thing, to do, it can still be hard to do. Do it anyway.
11. Seven things to say frequently: I love you. Thank you. Thank you, God. Forgive me. I'm so happy for you! Why not? Yes.
12. Peace and joy come after asking God to free you -- from anything that keeps you from being loving and compassionate.

Sweet Music of Life, 2011

As I turn the page past another December, 
I'm grateful to take time to remember
Rich blessings of family, friendship  and spirit
Sweet music of life: To hear it! To share it!

I'm not going to take time to rehash the year's precious memories. Most if not all were  addressed along the way. But I felt the need to write a few words before I do some last-minute work to wrap up a few 2011 details that will help give the new year a fresher start. 

One of the things I had jotted down but not yet shared is a year-end accomplishment that gives me hope for the future. After wanting to do so for several months if not years, on Dec. 21, I committed to cut my gum consumption  by half -- which is probably still more than anyone else in the world  chews. And surprisingly, I've chewed less than my allotted maximum several days. And there have been some very positive health aspects. For anyone who has never had a habit get out of hand, this probably seems like no big deal. But I was hooked. It was on a prayer list of things I wanted to change, most of which still seem impossible. The thing that pushed me to action on this was noticing again just how much I was spending on gum. Why all of a sudden I was able to make the change, I do not know. But I credit God. I began by trying to get through just one day, then one work day,  and then one shopping day. Each new situation seemed impossible. But I just kept praying and recommitting and focusing on the positive results. I don't know that it's getting easier, but my awareness of the benefits stays strong. 

Also strong is my sense of hope that if I can finally, with God's help, do this seemingly minor thing but impossible thing,  maybe the next goal for self-improvement will be possible. 

I feel this change is part of the slow but sure growth of my faith. Much of the growth this year came through experiences related to the health and eventual death of my Dad. I got to find out whether my faith is real and rooted; I found that it is, but I know I must continue to nurture it by reading the Bible, studying, and spending time in worship, service and fellowship with others seeking to follow Christ. (I just realized I want to buy my own copy of a devotional book my Mom received; I like the thought of reading the same Scriptures and meditations she sees each day.)

That parenthetical realization made me think of one other thing I want to include, but it may be too personal involving other people.  How can I summarize it? An email exchange among loved ones after Christmas warmed my heart and just made me want to praise God. Why does it  take what seems like adversity for people to realize how blessed they are?  Some never do, so my heart rejoices whenever people I love make the grateful choice to see beyond material things.  

That's all of my words to share here for now. I need to tackle those tasks, accompanied by sweet music and memories of life. 

Christmas in transition

I'm back in Norman after a very nice Christmas weekend with family in Texas. Thanks to all who joined along in singing (and playing) songs of the season! And oh the food and smiles and hugs and love. Sweet music of life -- to hear it, to share it and to praise God for it. It was our first Christmas without Daddy physically among us on Earth. There still weren't any public tears that I was aware of, and not much discussion of our thoughts since Daddy's passing. To me, it seems people would rather not talk about it. I was aware we didn't do a family picture. No one mentioned it that I heard. I thought of it but didn't want to be the one to bring it up. I do have a sense that late August was our Christmas, and we took lots of pictures then. As I prepared for the weekend, one of the things I tried to recall was what our mindset as a family was last year. It was after Daddy's lung surgery. As far as we knew, the surgery was a success and he was cancer-free. I think the sense was overwhelming gratitude that he had come through everything so well and that we were together for another Christmas as a family. All of the children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren were there. I don't recall any thoughts that it might be our last Christmas together, other than just as part of our fresher reality that we won't all be here forever. And then when the 3-6 months prognosis after an inoperable liver cancer diagnosis came in last August, it still seemed hard to fathom Daddy wouldn't be here this Christmas. That was still the case for me the first week of October. But by the last week of October, it was clear that God's, and Daddy's, gift to the family would be for Daddy's suffering to end and our new reality to begin. And for me, some of what Christmas is all about was stronger in my heart, knowing that God's gift of His son is why we don't have to fear death -- our own or those of our loved ones who put their faith in Him. Daddy was certainly in good company for his first Christmas in heaven. Anyway, I'm still trying to find my way on when and where it is appropriate to really talk much about Daddy and honor his memory. Among ways today: Memorial donations and words on a blog. Meanwhile, life goes on. I was grateful to attend the Christmas Eve communion and candlelight service at Whaley in Gainesville with Gene, Mom and Amy. Then Gene and I went to McKinney to spend the night and Christmas Day with Gene's sister, Mae, and her son, Michael, joined later by his significant other, her son and their hyper chihuahuas. And somehow there was still time for a Christmas night visit to see Mom and those staying at her house. And of course Monday with Mom and my siblings and their families and extended family and friends is always time to treasure that ends too soon. Grateful for memories -- and pictures! I caroled every chance I got, including on Facebook. I enjoyed that we did sing Christmas songs -- spiritual and seasonal -- before opening presents Monday. I don't know what I expected for this Christmas. I know it turned out good. God's presence seems more real to me than ever. I pray to live in a way that I never lose that. Happy birthday, Jesus. Thank you, God. I pray to reflect Your love and live to Your glory.

A gift from the Father to a daughter of the Psalmist's son

Faith. Hope. Love. And the greatest of these is love. (1 Corinthians 13:13)

Faith is very, very important, though. In recent days, I have been increasingly grateful that God and Daddy (Charles Davidson, whose surname makes me think of him as the Psalmist's son, and me as a daughter of the Psalmist's son) gave me a gift of greater faith.

Pray. Believe. Have faith. Trust. Obey.

I am having to rely heavily on faith as I face Christmas. I fear I will cry at any time. I often feel I am on the verge of tears. A few come, such as when I called to talk to Mom this morning. But not many have flowed. (Yet.) I am reminded I can have faith that's OK if and when the tears flow. And what if I don't cry? That's OK, too.

Monday I was starting to feel resentful about how some things are going at work and in relationships, especially with regard to Christmas expectations. I finally had to step back and just pray some more. God gently reminded me that I still am very much in the process of grieving. Holidays have been a complex mix of eager spiritual anticipation and earthly stress for me for many years, and of course they are more so this year, so soon after Daddy's Oct. 30 death. God was able to help me trust again that He is in charge, guiding me and loving me and strengthening me and comforting me.

Part of this is related to thoughts I've been journaling about for awhile: Yes, but ... What if?

How many times will God have to show me before I really believe? First came Daddy's summer 2010 diagnosis, fall 2010 surgery, new diagnosis in August 2011 and eventual amazingly sudden and smooth passing; and seeing so many ways in which God sustained Daddy and Mom and the family. In the weeks since Daddy's death, Mom has had some health issues, and again we see over and over how God has taken care of her and continues to do so.

But as Mom has had her health scares and things keep working out smoothly, my thoughts have touched at least briefly on situations where that isn't the obvious result. What about the death of 5-month-old nephew Ryan all those years ago, uncle Joe's desperation, Josh's dad, 9/11 and other unexplainables .... people who died too soon, unexpectedly and/or alone.

For today, the message God seems to be giving me is that it's not what happens but how we react that matters most. Daddy reacted in simple faith. Mom reacts in simple and strong faith. I am grateful to be surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses (Hebrews 12:1), on earth and in Heaven -- people who have chosen faith in God. And I can choose faith, too. What a gift!

Seeking to sleep in heavenly peace on Earth

OK, what is up with this? Some time ago, the preacher acknowledged being an insomniac, and now the choir director is experiencing episodes of sleepless nights.

I am not an insomniac. I do sometimes have trouble sleeping. And I can remember times when it was much worse.

Somewhere along the way, I found that, for me, I'm usually better off staying in bed and resting rather than deciding I might as well get up and do something, or maybe deciding that reading, watching TV, getting on the computer or Facebook or listening to music will help me doze off. Those may work for some people, but they just seem to stimulate me and make it harder to calm my mind and go to sleep. (However, it does seem something different would be at play if I used the time when I can't sleep to clean house, write letters or some other productive rather than mindless pursuit. But few people choose those routes when they can't sleep. Very seldom have I.)

I'm not sure where I learned this. It may have been along the 12-step path of recovery. I just know I've come to believe that, most times, God provides the rest I need if I stay in bed; pray and keep as positive thoughts as possible (counting my blessings helps); try not to worry -- especially about not being able to sleep; and keep my body as relaxed and comfortable as possible.

Part of my prayer is for faith to believe this is true: I pray for faith to believe that God will provide the rest and strength and energy I need -- or He will provide other options regarding what I thought had to be done that I can't do for lack of sleep.

This also has helped me stay calmer when I'm unable to sleep because of sickness or pain.

This is one of those insights that I'm hesitant to share, for fear it will quit working, and then I'll not only be unable to rest, but I'll feel foolish for having thought I had an answer and written about it. But that's the old fear. Faith says I can feel free to share it -- and trust that it will continue to work for me or that God will show me a new way.

I trust God to give me the rest, peace and strength I need.

"Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on Thee." Isaiah 26:3
("You will keep in perfect peace him whose mind is steadfast, because he trusts in You.")

Lest I forget: Remembering Daddy, God's blessings

Charles Baker Davidson
March 20, 1926 - October 30, 2011
Son, Brother, Husband, Father, Grandfather, Great-Grandfather

Nov. 2: The celebration of Daddy's life was just right. The church was filled with probably more than 200 people. A lot of those people were family, but there were also many, many friends.
The pastor has only been at Mom and Dad's longtime church (and the church I remember growing up in) since January, but he did a wonderful job of expressing Daddy's spirit and his legacy of family, faith, friends, farm and hard work. Chuck had really listened to Daddy in recent weeks and also to the family, and was able to celebrate his life fully and also share the message of Christ.
Emily read the family recollections of Charles, who he was and some of what he liked. Then I sang "Blessed Assurance." I didn't even remember until that night at Mom's that I changed the words to the final chorus, singing: "This is Dad's story, this is his song, praising our Savior all the day long." I actually looked at Daddy's picture some as I sang and when I finished. I am so grateful to have been able to do that. I didn't fall apart until the service was over, then collected myself in about five minutes or so.

There were so many people at the reception. I didn't even see some of them. Due to many requests, the pastor got the group to quiet down and I did sing the song Daddy in late August had said he wanted written and sung at the gathering after his service. Amy and I wrote it: "Charlie D's Farm." "Ol' Charlie D he had a farm, EIEIO ..." It was fun and very well-received, too. Amy's friends and Sally were among the insistent ones.

My prayer at the end of that day, or along the way: Lord, please help me remember and savor and acknowledge all of your love and grace to our family through these dear ones. I know you are raising us up. Please help me stay focused on You and to live to Your glory.

I have to keep reminding myself that the blog is a Web log, a place where I can record things, and if the first two years is an indication, easily return to them.

So, what is written above is pretty much the note I wrote myself that day. What follows are some of the other notes or reflections I made leading up to that day. Some of it is very personal, so don't feel obligated to keep reading. Again, I don't trust my memory, and writing helps me remember. Possibly it will help others, also, either remember or to make their own kind of notes of those special moments they want to be sure not to forget. (I'm a bit envious of those who don't have to write everything down. I have to remind myself that God created me exactly the way I am, and just tresure the blessing of that.)

Nov 1: I don't even know where to start. From a friend: In very clear ways, a testimony to his life. Psalm 128:3.

Oct. 30: Daddy's gone to heaven. 10/30/11

Mom, Becky and I found out while we were in church. Mom's sister Sally and grandson Brian were with Daddy.
On that long (20-minutes?) drive home from church, the Christian radio station played great songs. The one that really caught my attention and made me prismy (smiles through tears) was an enthusiatic arrangement of "When the Saints Go Marching In." I guess he made it! I had no doubt.

Daddy wanted Mom to go to church. I have to believe that. He told me that the week before. He knew that's where we were going.

Mom had forgotton her phone, and I had called on the way to church to give Brian my number in case they needed to reach us, even though we didn't think they would. I turned the ringer off. So neither I nor Emily (Brian's wife, sitting on the pew next to us) nor Becky (my sister, Emily's mom, driving in for Sunday School) heard our phones to get the calls or messages. Brian had to call sister-in-law Brandi and Emily's dad, Tom, for help, and Tom called the church and they got Becky and told her she needed to call Tom. Becky, Mom and I all had been visiting with people and having good fellowship at church. And then ... In an instant it all changed. I just hope and pray that Mom and Brian and Sally and I never lose faith that God was totally in control of the timing and situation.

Mom insisted on driving home. I was with her, which made it OK, I guess. The music on the radio was comforting. "You Raise Me Up" brought tears as we drove on the gravel and up the lane.

Daddy was so ready. I don't understand why it didn't work out for Mom to be there. I have to believe -- and I do -- that it was all in God's plan for Mom and Daddy and all of us. He is in heaven now. And he has no more pain. And he is reunited with the dear ones who have gone before, including Granny and Grandpa (his Mom and Dad), grandson Ryan, sister Ella Frances and in-laws including Joe and Bobby. But it's still so hard to let him go. Thank you, Lord, for your mercy, love, grace and compassion. We trust you to provide everything we need, now and in the days to come.

Other thoughts/notes about that day:
--Mitsi was on the bed on Daddy's legs as he breathed his last breath, and she got back up there before we got home. Mom didn't even notice her, but I did. That may have been just for me. Before we left, I had said to Daddy how I remembered him saying Mitsi wasn't his cat anymore since he couldn't take care of her. But I assured him he was definitely still her guy.

--It was Becky's birthday. I had just sang happy birthday to her at the church when we got the call. Mom said she hated that it happened on Becky's birthday. But Becky said she realized about two weeks ago it might happen, and when it did, she accepted it as a gift.

--The preacher came by while Becky and Emily and I went to the Dress Barn looking for something for me to wear and for me to buy her a present. So I missed that spiritual bit. But before the funeral home took Daddy's body after Mike got there around 4 pm, all of us who were there at the time, including many who were not when the preacher was there, gathered together, and I prayed. I'm very grateful to have been able to do that.

--It was important to Mike that Daddy's body still be there because when he left to return to Arkansas the day before, he or Daddy had said something about whether Daddy would be there when he came back. Daddy said he would be. Mike also sees why it was important for him to be with his family the night and the next morning to share the news.

--More such moments that I can write. I need to just turn off the light, recite the 23rd Psalm and trust God to hold me and these dear precious ones in the palm of his hand.

Oct. 23-29: Loving my Daddy
Sunday, Oct. 23: Sitting and talking quietly with him. Not avoiding the reality. Him feeling safe to say he knows his life on Earth is over for all practical purposes, and he hates how hard this time is for Mom and that he doesn't want her to wear herself out. He said he would rather not go to a nursing home, but he accepts that at some point that may be what needs to happen for Mom, and he wouldn't want to fight it. That's when he looked at me and said he knows his life is over. And he's OK with that. We talked about the ones who have gone before, and about how blessed and grateful our family is. He said he can't really think of anything he'd do differently in his life, but he doesn't think about that too much because you can't change the past anyway. I said that's right -- we can just live this moment and forward.
And I did what I'd been praying to be able to do: I sang "How Great Thou Art." And then without really planning to, I prayed with him. I prayed for God to just lift up Mom and Dad and our family and to guide and support us and help us live each moment to his glory and I don't even know what else, but it was from the heart.
I said I realize that it's possible the end will come and I won't be there with him at that time, and I think I'm OK with that. I know he won't be alone, and that I am with him in spirit.
Very grateful and blessed.
I love my Daddy so much.

More notes on that: I told him I hope and pray he doesn't have to go to a nursing home, but I'm glad he's realistic about the possibilities. Very good, intimate talk. That's when he said Mom needs to go to church when I or someone is there to stay with him.

God provided and blessed the moment. Grateful.

Sent to Mike very late on Saturday, Oct. 29, catching up since he headed back to Arkansas before I got there: I'm glad you were able to be there when you were. Things seem to be changing pretty fast. Who knows what's next. I'm very grateful for last Sunday morning when I had a good talk with Daddy, and he said a few things to me, too. Then I sang How Great Thou Art and prayed aloud, holding his hand. From what I see tonight, it's hard to realize that was just a week ago. Praying to know what to do to be most helpful to him and mom. Feeling pretty helpless, though.

For today, Nov. 14: Different people work through things different ways, and as I pray to know how to feel and process and move, God often seems to guide me to write (or sing) and just trust Him with the results. And so I share words, even if they are really just for me and God. I truly thought writing all of this would bring a flood of tears. It still brings a flood of feelings, but the tears are staying behind the surface, just misting the eyes. For now, I just keep rejoicing and praising God for the blessings and love He bestowed upon Daddy and our family.

Happy Endings, Part 2

When I wrote Happy Endings, Part 1 last week with the Rangers and Aggies most in mind, I was aware that at any time my dad could die of complications from liver cancer, although I didn't really think that moment was imminent. His last breath on Earth came Sunday morning, and of course the concept of happy endings grew in meaningful complexity.

I will write much more about my Daddy later. I've made a lot of notes but want to take time to reflect before sharing.

For now, I'm aware that there often are no endings; there are just transitions. Winning a World Series or NBA championship or Super Bowl may seem like a happy ending. But in very little time, teams, fans and commentators only care about the next win, not what happened in the past. I was hoping for a happy ending in terms of me maybe watching the Aggies play the University of Oklahoma in Norman on Saturday for the last time before A&M heads to the SEC. But it seems clear to me that if I didn't have to be there when Daddy took his last breath, I don't have to be at that game Saturday. There are many lessons for me in this and elsewhere if I will pay attention. Many potential areas of self-improvement have been revealed to me since my Dad's death. (But a dear friend also reminds me not to be hard on myself.)

Tonight I went to a premiere of a documentary about the life of Wayman Tisdale, a standout OU and NBA basketball player whose first love (outside faith and family) was music, and who had become a successful songwriter and musician on the bass guitar and an engaging concert performer before he died of complications from cancer in May 2009. I learned of the opportunity to attend this on Thursday while I was still in Texas with my family and surprised myself by saying I would go. Although I knew it would touch on some of the kinds of grief and loss my family is dealing with, I knew the sadness would be far surpassed by the inspiration and joy of Wayman's life, legacy and music. And so it was. My dad wasn't famous, but as they showed interviews of Wayman and others talking about Wayman's situation and how he faced it and had lived his life, it made me think of my dad in his much smaller realm of influence and the outpouring of love and friendship with which people responded to his life.

On the way home, I read that a faithful member of my church had also now died after a grueling battle with cancer. I immediately recalled having noticed his wife was one of the prayer team members who had prayed and signed a sympathy card for my family on Monday. There is another lesson and example I must take to heart and seek to learn from.

So, this starts as Happy Endings, Part 2. But it evolves into life goes on, day by day. It reminds me to live each day (and moment) as if it is the first -- and the last. Seek God's guidance; love, worship and serve Him -- part of which comes in loving and caring for people; and give Him the glory, thanks and praise.

No "Passages," but another good weekend

Recently some of my best times have been on weekends, especially involving moments with my parents and family in Texas. But this past weekend in Norman was surprisingly good.

--Some long-needed quality time with my husband.
--12-step meeting: I had to persevere through a 45-minute traffic delay due to road construction, and since I was already running late, I just got there for about 10 minutes of the one-hour meeting. But many people stayed afterward to talk and catch up. I miss these meetings when I'm on the road so many weekends. It was uplifting and strengthening to be there.
--Some needed clothes shopping!
--Aggies win over Baylor (a higher-ranked team; that doesn't happen often anymore, it seems).
--Beautiful weather for a walk around the neigbhorhood pond on Saturday and Sunday. I tried to get Gene to join me, but our ideas of the best conditions for a walk just don't coordinate.
--A nice supper from the grill and microwave with Gene.
--Watching the Rangers win the American League Championship Series and earn their spot in the World Series for the second year in a row.
--Attending my home church and singing in the choir. As I've written before, I have two churches that I love attending and hate to miss either one -- Goodrich, where I'm a member in Norman, and Whaley in Gainesville, where I grew up and my parents are still members. An extra-special and inspiring thing at worship was to see my good friend Paul, who had a stroke late last year, and his wife make it to church together for the first time since then.

Part of what that reminds me is how, had things gone as I'd planned, I would have been in Texas this past weekend and in Norman the weekend before, and I would have missed seeing Paul's delightful smile. My plan was to avoid OU/Texas football traffic Oct. 8, and to use time during the weekend to go see the "Passages" exhibit of ancient Bibles and other pieces at the Oklahoma City Museum of Art before it ended Oct. 16. But after the Rangers made it to the championship series and I knew they'd be playing that Saturday night, I decided I wanted to go watch the game on TV with my Dad. I just don't know how many more opportunities I'll have for that -- between my Dad's health and not knowing for sure the Rangers would make it to the World Series. Even though rain delayed the game in Arlington, and Daddy and I only watched an hour together, it was nice to be there and keep him updated as the storms came to the Davidson hill. The Rangers pulled out the win right around midnight, right after Mom disconnected the TV because of lightning. The next morning, the parched farm was still enjoying a refreshing rain, so I stayed with Daddy while Mom when to church and to buy groceries. A few hours later, I entered the slow-moving mass of cars on Interstate 35 headed back to Norman/OKC after their big football game. Traffic was every bit the headache I feared -- and it was so worth it to have spent the time in Texas.

During this past week, I realized that "Passages," as wonderful an exhibit as it seemed to be from all I had read and heard, just wouldn't fit into my plans and priorities at this time, especially since I didn't have anyone to go with. I realized that doing things that connect me with friends and family is what I need right now. Looking back, I saw that, perhaps, my decision to attend a friend's sparsely attended book signing Oct. 8 was an example of that. And since I'd decided not to try to carve out time this past Saturday (Oct. 15) for "Passages," I had time to spend with Gene that morning. I can't do everything I want to, and sometimes it's hard to decide what to do, but it's amazing how, for now, things do seem to be unfolding in a divine way.

There are still some troublesome areas. Even with the stresses of work and my Dad's illness, about the only thing that has brought me to tears over the past few weeks is my beloved kitty who keeps peeing on the carpet. I think she's acting out over us being gone more and maybe just picking up on my stress. How do you reason with a cat? I love her so much, but nothing is seeming to work to solve this problem. Does God have answers even for this in my life? As I wrote on Facebook: I'm trusting Him for answers in the issue I just can't figure out. Grateful and blessed. The good far outweighs the seeming less-than, thanks to continued prayer to know and do God's will, including to feel the joy.

"Certain thoughts are prayers. There are moments when, whatever be the attitude of the body, the soul is on its knees." Victor Hugo (as quoted in OA For Today). Part of the commentary: Often in the course of a day, I may think or act with a certain spontaneity, accepting virtually everything about life. That, to me, is a form of prayer ... Prayer allows me to like and enjoy life and to live without suffocating in guilt over past mistakes.

"My brethren, count it all joy when you fall into various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces patience. But let patience have its perfect work, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking nothing. If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask of God, Who gives to all liberally and without reproach, and it will be given to him." James 1:2-6

"And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." Philippians 4:7

Another sneaky deadline

Deadline snuck up on me again. With my current work shift, I miss my morning walks around the neighborhood pond/lake, which had become a good time to let thoughts shape into insights, perspectives, inspiration, etc.

I am still struggling a bit not to feel and exhibit frustration, exhaustion, overwhelmedness (I don't think that's really a word), lethargy, depression or any number of other forms of negativity.

I've been meditating on Wednesday's passage from my John MacArthur "Truth for Today: A Daily Touch of God's Grace" devotional, and I have faith that it will help me get to where I need to be.

Here are some excerpts.

No chastening seems to be joyful for the present, but painful; nevertheless, afterward it yields the peaceable fruit of righteousness in those who have been trained by it. (Hebrews 12:11)

Evaluating a trial as a joyful occurrence is something a Christian must discipline himself to do because joy is not the natural human response to troubles. He must make a conscious commitment to face each trial with a joyous attitude. ... When you see a trial coming, take on an attitude of joy that comes from anticipating the perfecting work the Lord will do through it. ... It is the joy of one who counts it a privilege to have his faith tested because he knows the testing will draw him closer to the Savior. ...

Among my present "trials" are work, my dad's health, my cat's behavior and many of my troublesome habits that I just haven't been able to change or get rid of. It seems like I'd been trying to face them with joy even before I read this, but I don't know that I've made much progress. But I have faith and hope that it will occur. That is my prayer and what I will continue to focus on and make a conscious commitment to.

Blessings from expressing faith through love

This is one of those times when I have to ask myself: Is there really any value in honoring the self-imposed deadline to post something on my blog at least once every seven days? I have nothing compelling to express, and the only reason I am sitting here typing is because of the commitment I made to myself. I've made plenty of commitments to myself that I haven't kept, so why do I bother trying to keep this one, when I could be in bed instead? But here I am, trying to find something to write.

I thought something might develop around some of the things I've posted or read on Facebook or in devotionals this past week. And maybe it has ....

When it was time to return home after another very good weekend trip to see my parents and other family members, I found myself in new territory. I didn't want to leave. That's not the first time that's happened, but I really had trouble dealing with it. I just wanted to stay and be. And the thought of leaving made me want to cry. So I just sat there and stared out the window. And finally I did cry. But I was quickly reminded or given reason to wonder whether there was any value in crying. I tend to think there is value in letting the tears flow. But if everyone cried, nothing would get done, I suppose.

The dilemma I faced then and also after I returned home was trying to express positive thoughts and say positive things when I was really feeling very sad, tired, overwhelmed and confused. My husband has even more trouble dealing with my emotional outbursts than my mom does. After several attempts, I came up with this for my social and supportive network of Facebook: Let go and let God is so much easier for me to say than do! I've been trying to keep it positive -- about ready to give up. But what good would giving in to negativity do? None at all. It would do no good at all. And I think the response to expressing even that little bit of negativity -- but striving to find the hope -- helped. I slept better than I would have expected, and awoke much more hopeful than I expected.

One of my realizations was that for a person like me who has depressive tendencies, I must find ways to express the sadness, fear and other feelings that seem negative. It doesn't seem to work for me to just acknowledge them to myself and God and then put on a happy face. I'm a talker; I need someone to hear me, the happy as well as the sad. I need to identify and stay in close touch with those unconditional, supportive listeners. Not people who will let me sink into self-pity, but who will listen and offer bits of encouragement, affirmation or guidance that help so much.

One of today's Scripture references from my Upper Room devotional sums up where I want to be as I go forward: "The only thing that counts is faith expressing itself through love." (Galatians 5:6, NIV)

What would you do if you knew? Part 3

What would I do if I knew ... ?

--Surrender. Not to the disease or the fear or the grief or despair but to the care of a loving and gracious God. This sometimes is a moment by moment process. I surrender then I take it back. I surrender, then I try to start fighting it again. Let go and let God. Let God fight it for me.

--Acceptance. The Serenity Prayer. "God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference." I want to know everything -- the doctors, the medical details, the nurses, the Hospice team; how daddy and mom are experiencing everything. I want to be there. I want to help. I need to accept reality. Add to the Serenity Prayer an attitude of gratitude: gratefulness that Mom and Dad have family, extended family, church, friends and resources including medical care and hospice.

--I thought I would cry. There haven't been many tears yet. What seems to be happening is that I'm shutting that down. I think that may explain why some days I feel as if I'm in a fog. It seems I can't shut down the negative or sad feelings without affecting the full range of emotions.

I thought maybe when the Aggies lost to OSU yesterday in Aggieland that would trigger tears. No, not yet. It will be something more random, I guess. All that game did was mess with my mind. A win would have made me feel a simple kind of happiness. With a loss, my silly mind keeps going over what-ifs. What a waste of mental energy, but that's what happens. So I expend more mental/spiritual energy to tear my thoughts from that unchangeable and truly insignificant thing to subjects of substance. I rationalize and try to see what God is trying to teach me from my reaction to a game. And I still wish they had won. (See, I still haven't let go.)

--Smiles and gratitude. Still, so far, there are more smiles and more gratitude for blessings and less sadness and fewer tears than I would have expected. But there is growing tiredness, and with that comes greater vulnerability to unhealthy choices -- and also to the breakthrough of pent-up emotions. So, I'm back to where I started: praying to let go and let God, to trust Him to protect me from negativity, despair, fear or even too much tiredness, and to hold me in His loving arms and care.