True Blue Friends

    I know it has been a while since I have written. I have allowed life to interfere once again.  I apologize for that.
    I have lots of friends. Some from my childhood, some from college, some from church, and many from work.  My best friend married me.  But there is one group of my friends who hold a different place in my life.
 I decided to write about a group of ladies whom I call my true blue friends or also known as "My Breakfast Club". These three ladies and I have known each other for over twenty years now. It doesn't seem that long but it is.  All of these ladies have shown me how to be a better wife and mother. Let me explain further.
     DI is the go getter of the group. She organizes our get together a, encourages us, calls us, makes awesome cakes for any reason, and is constantly hosting our couples get togethers. She has a true heart for serving and it shows in all she does.  I know that there have been times when she is going through stuff in her own life but she will drop what she is doing to come and pray, talk, hold hands, etc with anyone of us. She makes me smile all the time and I love hearing her talk because she has such wisdom.
      JM is the quiet one in the group.  She has such a sweet spirit and is kind to everyone.  I can't even begin to see her saying unkind words to anyone or about anyone. When we are together, I know that she is praying without ceasing and it comes like a breathing to her. She chooses her words carefully and you can tell because they always lift you up and never tear anyone down. She is so down to earth and shows me how to live life without all the "stuff" I think I need.
     RS is our momma of the group. She worries about us all, will do what she can to take care of us, and keeps us in life about eating healthy and exercising.  She is also the one I can count on for information on anything.  She has such a heart for missions and that just pours out from her.  She has shown me that there is more to life than things and all.
     All of these ladies are my encouragers, prayer warriors, and women who I hope to be like someday. Somehow, I managed to become a part of the group.  I think I am the comic relief for all of them.  They make me laugh til I almost have an accident, they lift me up when I am at my lowest, they teach me more about God and His word and what he has in store for all of us.  These ladies have stood by me at my lowest, ugliest times. They have held my hands, they have hugged me, they know my deepest secrets and have kept them. They have cried with me, laughed with me, and comforted me.  They have given me words of wisdom.  They have also told me when I am wrong in a way that does not tear me down but oddly lifts me up and gives me the courage to fix what I have done.
    God has placed these ladies in my life for a reason and I am so blessed by each of them. I love each of them as a sister and I treasure them.  I hope you have some friends like this.  Everyone needs true blue friends.
   

Tree Bark

      I wrote my Sunday message this morning but I wasn't able to say everything I wanted to so here I am.
     Have you ever really looked at a tree? It is covered in a rough, gnarled, weathered bark. If you strip away the bark and sand it down, you discover the tue treasure inside.  Wood that is unique and beautiful.  This wood can be shaped into many things depending on the vision of the carpenter working with it. 
     Before God comes into our hearts, we have this rough, gnarled, weathered exterior. Once He comes in, all of that is stripped away, sanded down, and He shapes us into His image which is the true treasure that is able to shine through.  
      The Bible says in Ephesians 4:22-24---"You took off your former way of life, the old self that is corrupted be deceitful desires (the rough, gnarly, weathered bark); your are being renewed in the spirit of your minds; you put on the new self, the one created according to God's likeness in righteousness and purity of the truth." (The true treasure hidden inside).
     The process of the stripping and sanding is painful at times but we know that the end result is going to be amazing! How? Because the end result is that God is shaping us into His image and His likeness and that in itself is beyond comprehension. 
     Allow God to strip away the rough, gnarled, weathered bark in your life and let the true treasure shine through!!  Be blessed.  I am always praying.
    

My Blessedness

    I am so blessed right at this moment.  Yes, I have my frustrations which I spoke about last time but in the grand scheme of things I am blessed.
    My youngest graduated last night from high school but I was surrounded by all my kids and my husband.  There were other family members there but my family gathered around me and held me up when I broke down and started crying. They all knew it was coming and I think there were some side bets on when it would happen ( :) ). I felt more love then than I could imagine possible.
     Today, we have all been together for meals and now they are all playing games together.  The laughter and the happiness are the perfect place for me.  I love these times.  As my kids go their separate ways and grow into adults, I know that these times will be further apart but I am relishing them now.  I wish I could share this time with everyone.  
     This is family. Real family.  Not the "we have to be nice" kind of family.  This is love, hope, grace, and real all rolled into one.  It is not a perfect family but for me it is.  We have our ups and downs but that is normal.
     This blessing is by far better than money or anything.  Yes, money is nice, a job is nice, but family is the greatest thing ever!!!  I brag on my kids constantly because they are my world but they are the greatest thing in my life.
     I pray that you have a family that brings you the blessings and love like mine does.  If they don't then I pray that things change for you. Enjoy your time with your family and kids. It goes by fast and it is so precious. Be blessed.  I am praying for you always.

My Frustration

     I am stinking frustrated right now. It is a petty thing but it is something that is just building like a storm inside of me.  I love to travel and unfortunately, I married a man who would rather sit at home on the couch than travel.  His idea of traveling is to go try a cafe or something in a small town less than three hours from home.  
     I know my family reads this and I am probably offending someone but the fact that I am excited about a week long trip to Ruidoso, New Mexico in the middle of summer is sad. I love my family but they are not the reason I am excited about this trip. I am excited because I actually get to go somewhere that is not close to home, is going to be an actual vacation, and is not in Texas. Finally.
     There are people going on cruises, going to California, Colorado, Vermont, Canada, Cancun, etc. that's just my family.  I have taken up watching the Love Boat just so that I can imagine going some place.
      My husband keeps telling me when the kids a rout of college we will travel. Well, my one in college just announced the other day that he has three more years of college! All I could think was, "Well, crud." I have suggested trips to Oklahoma, to the coast, some place.  But all I get is "when the kids are out of college."
      Once in a while I would like to just get away. I got excited when we went to Fredricksburg recently to see the rocket launch because I got to go somewhere.  Grant you it was still in Texas, it was three and half hours away, and it was a place we go to often. But I got to stay in a hotel for the night (cheap and this side of scummy but a hotel.)
      I know this all sounds stupid but I just want the chance to go see some place other than what I see constantly. I would love to see the White House, the Washington monument, the smithsonian, the Grand Canyon, Yellowstone, and other places. 
      My husband thinks I am kidding when I told him this but I am not. I told him that I am going to start taking trips on my own so I can actually travel.  He doesn't realize just how serious I am.  I can save my pennies so he had better watch it.
      My frustration is showing and I apologize but sometimes, you just have to say words out loud.

Piano Lessons

     I admit it. I play the piano.  It is something not too many people know about me.  My husband and my boys have never heard me really play the piano. They have heard me plink around on it but they have no idea how I really play.  I am not as good as the girl who plays at our church but I can play. When you are learning music, you not only learn to play it but you memorize it, feel it, breathe it. 
     My earliest memories of playing piano were with my grandmother. She would sit down to practice for church (she was the church pianist) and I would sit beside her and plink away.  One day she pulled me over and began teaching me the basics.  After a while, my parents decided that I was ready for lessons from a real piano teacher.  
      Mrs. Bartles was my first and favorite teacher.  She had the patience of Job and she would let me spend much longer than the allotted 30 minutes for lessons. If there was a piece I was struggling with, she would work with me until I had it down. I developed my love for Beethoven with her.  She entered me in several contests and at one point, I placed third in a state competition (duet).  Sadly, Mrs. Bartles moved and I went my next teacher.
      If I remember right that would have been Mrs. Crosswhite.  She was a sweet older lady who admitted after about three lessons that I was beyond what she taught. She was beginning teacher not advanced so we moved on.
      Mrs. Bain was next.  She was hard.  What made it even more difficult for me was that her sons were in my class.  If Mrs. Crosswhite was for beginners, then You could say that Mrs Bain was for the highly advanced.  I wasn't near the caliber of what most of her students did.  I would practice 3-4 hours some days and it still wasn't enough.  So when I threatened to quit, my parents found me another teacher.
     My last piano teacher (Mrs. Mosher) was great! I think I liked her as much as I did Mrs. Bartles.  She pushed me to learn some of the most difficult pieces I had ever tackled. If I hadn't practiced enough, she would know it in a heartbeat, and the lesson was over. "Why waste our time?" She would say. I didn't want to disappoint her so I worked harder than ever. I spent hours practicing.  She introduced me to composers that challenged me. She wasn't harsh but when she would praise me, I knew I had achieved a new level of mastery and it made want to go further.
    Mrs. Mosher retired from teaching piano around my freshman year.  I never had another teacher while I lived at home. I would continue to practice but my heart just wasn't in it as much.
     In college, I decided to take a class in piano and see if I could once again work to become the pianist I dreamed of being. The professor there was kind but I was at such an amateurish level, that they didn't really seem to care if I made strides or not. 
     Performing was and is hard for me.  I still get a large case of nerves and my hands shake.  I finally gave up my dream of ever playing in front of anyone.  
     I have my grandmother's piano. It needs to be tuned and repaired. I miss, miss, miss practicing and playing the piano. I don't do it because I don't want to interrupt my family's life, I don't want to bore them, and the constant practicing would drive them nuts. My ultimate dream has always been to have a baby grand piano that I can sit down and play, practice, and perform on. Not the electronic stuff but an actual piano. 
      I am hoping that when all my kids are grown and gone, I can get the piano I have fixed and I can once again go to my world.  I love playing. I feel like I can breathe.  It is such a part of my life and I feel like I have had a missing limb for the past 27 years. I look forward to the day I get to do that again.

I wish I could....but I can't

     I am struggling right now.  I admit it.  I am fighting to stay positive and remember that God is in charge.  Satan is throwing everything he can at me and I am trying my hardest to stand against what he is doing.  I am going to share what is going on because I know there are those people out there that go through similar struggles and maybe this will encourage them and selfishly, myself.
     It seems like this time of year is when our finances get hit hard.  We are fine most of the year, pay our bills on time, and still have some money in the bank.  But for some reason, this time of year, our money disappears and things go crazy financially.  We are not poor, we have a budget but our finances take a direct hit.  I can't explain it.  I just have to stand on faith that God is there and that we will be okay.  It may take a while to recover but we will be okay.  My husband takes the brunt of the worrying about the budget.  Unfortunately, when he worries, he shuts down.  I know he has to process things and that he has to pray about what to do but as his wife, it is hard to sit back and wait for him to decide to share the plan with me.  God has taught me recently, to wait and not push him.  It can be stressful but eventually he does share the plan with me.  I just wish I could help him during this process but I can't.
     My youngest is struggling with classes, graduation, realizing that he is about to have to make some life decisions, and honestly, he is scared but won't admit it out loud.  He wants to be treated like an adult (he is 17) but in a lot of ways he is still a little boy at heart.  I wish I could help him and fix all his problems but I can't.
     My middle son is dealing with life issues and is finding out that being an adult is harder than he thought.  He is in college and so he is still learning but he is also my worrier. I wish I could stop him from worrying or fix the problems he encounters with classes but I can't.
     My oldest  is facing life in the grown-up world.  He has a full time job that keeps him running, he is managing to hang on to a wonderful girl even though they are having to do a long distance relationship thing, and he has taken responsibility for his finances.  I wish I could make the life lessons a little easier but I can't.
      Today, I seem to be apologizing for everything to everyone.  I keep trying to get things right but every time I turn around I have another mistake that I have to correct.  I found myself saying "I wish I could go back and do this over but I can't." more times than I cared to.  
      I wish I could do a lot of things right now but I can't.  It is all out of my control.  I am not in charge.  I have to rely upon God and keep praying.  I am a fixer at heart and I want to fix all the problems my family and kids encounter.  I have learned that when I try to do that, I end up making a bigger mess.  So all I have is relying upon God and for me that is enough because I know that He can fix it all.  It is in His timing, not ours.  That is a whole other lesson I need to learn.  So I pray a lot and I talk to God a lot and I know that my faith is in Him and He is in charge.  It makes things easier to deal with.  
     Be blessed.  I am always praying.

My Psoriasis

    I never thought that I would have to admit that I have a "disease" but in a way I do.  I have something called plaque psoriasis.  It is a skin condition.  I am fortunate because I have a mild case.  It is an ugly thing and for some people it is horrendous.  I have spent hours researching it. Here is my story.
    Four years ago, things were as bad as it can get with work (calling it a hostile work environment would have been a nice way to put it), Jeff's mom got sick and within six weeks was gone from us, and I was finding myself exhausted. That is when it suddenly struck.
    I had knicked my thumb on my right hand while trimming my nails one night.  It was a small cut and I had had this many times before so I didn't worry.  Over the next week, I noticed that a strange scabbing had started covering my thumb even though the cut was healed.  It itched and was ugly looking but nothing too bad.  Within two weeks, I saw that the scabbing had spread over the palm of my hand and was now showing up on my left hand as well.  I started trying to get rid of it thinking it was just a reaction to something.  After a month, both of my hands were covered in this strange scabbing and it was now showing up on my feet.  It caused my hands and feet to itch and crack and bleed.  It was painful and there didn't seem to be anything that would help it.  I went to renew my driver's license and they couldn't take a print because my hands were so covered in this stuff.  They made a note that I had a skin rash that made it impossible to take the print.
     I was given the name of a doctor in Mansfield that dealt with skin rashes.  I went to her and she did an allergy test only to show that I was allergic to pine trees (I already knew that) and some of the ingredients in carbonated drinks and processed foods.  She did a biopsy and said it wasn't cancer.  Then she told me to go to the dermatologist because she had done all she could do.
       I started researching it and I found it was something called psoriasis.  I finally tried to contact a dermatologist.  The one in Cleburne I wanted to use had a six month waiting period.  I wasn't that patient.  I was hurting and I wanted help now.  I found a dermatologist in Arlington and started going to them.  I asked them on the first visit if it could be stress related and if it was psoriasis.  I was given the eye roll ("great another self diagnosis from the internet") and then told that stress had nothing to do with it.  Over the course of 8 months, hundreds of dollars for visits, time off work to go to visits, and creams that did nothing, they finally decided that there was nothing they could do for me and I would "just have to live with it".
    I decided to go to my family doctor and get his opinion.  He was out and his fill in was a grumpy "old school" kind of doctor.  (I don't mind the old school part but grumpy I could do without.)  He took one look at my hands and feet, told me it was psoriasis, and then ordered blood work.  The end for him.  No recommendations, no medicine, nothing.  I was more than frustrated.  I contacted the dermatologist in Cleburne and got lucky.  They had an appointment in 2 weeks open up.  I took it.  
    When I got to the dermatologist, I had every stupid cream and thing the previous dermatologist had given me.  Now this dermatologist was "old school" and kind.  He looked at my hands and feet, he looked at all the medicines I had been given and shook his head.  He then asked me some questions.  He was the one person who looked me in the eye and told me that "yes, stress was a huge factor in all of this."; "yes, I did have psoriasis"; and "yes, it could occur in someone's life at any given time."  He then told me of an over the counter medicine that would help with the itchiness and some of the symptoms but unfortunately, I would have it the rest of my life.  
    I was so relieved.  I wasn't a crazy nut.  I wasn't hallucinating.  I was actually right.  He did tell me that I was lucky and that it was a mild case.  Most people have it on their heads (which means you lose all your hair) and worst cases have it all over their body. (I can't even begin to imagine the pain and suffering in that.)  He said that it might clear up some but he wasn't guaranteeing anything.
   I was so glad.  I started using the medicine he recommended and then I went on my way.  I realized about a month later that it had almost completely gone from my hands.  In fact, my left hand was completely clear and there were only splotches left on my right hand.  My feet were better also.  
    To this day, I struggle with psoriasis on my hand and feet.  On a good day, it just makes my feet look ugly and my hand look rough.  On bad days, I look for something to scratch with so that I can kill the intense itching that overcomes my whole being.  I will find anything to scratch with and I mean anything! When these days happen, I scratch until my feet are cracked and bleeding.  I know this is going to happen but the itch is so intense that I can't stop myself.  I still doctor the areas with the medicine the last dermatologist recommended. It helps but doesn't make it go away.  When I am stressed, excited, upset, and when I first wake up in the morning the itch is much worse. I used to try to hide my feet so that people couldn't see it but I have long given that up.  It is just something I deal with.
       I am hoping that someday this will go away in the same fashion that it came.  I keep praying. So, don't be grossed out when we shake hands.  It is not contagious.  It isn't cancer.  It is just a skin thing.  Be Blessed.  I am always praying.

Lessons in Life

      Not too long ago, I wrote about God hitting upside the head with His 2x4.  There is more to that than I previously wrote about.
      Let's go back a little ways.  I have held several jobs and in reality I have never had to really work to get them.  They have always "fell" into my lap.  My job as a caseworker lasted until I had my third child.  I quit to stay home with my kids.  I worked for 5 years at this job and it was always an endurance for me to get up and go.  I learned a lot from that job.  How to be OCD about files and paperwork, how to take "he said, she said" notes, and how to deal with crazy people.  All of this helped later in life.  
      My job as a teacher started when a dear friend of mine called out of the blue one day and told me that God had told her I was to come and teach.  I had no intention of teaching but at the time she called, God was also dealing with me and I felt that maybe I was ready to try.  I went in with no prior knowledge, no experience, and no idea what I was in for.  I knew I was a one year hire so I was okay with that.  What I didn't expect was that I would enjoy it so much and how easy it came for me.  This same friend worked her tail off to find me a program in which I could get certified within a year and become a full blown teacher.  I went into the program and loved it.        Those first few years, I went at my job with all the passion and love that I didn't know existed.  I would get up and go to work without really thinking that I was working.  It was fun.  I loved watching the kids get a concept or learn how to do something.  I worked with some great people that patiently helped me with some things I didn't know how to do.  It was great.
       Then I hit a rough patch and what I call my "seven years of wandering the desert" happened.  I realized that not everyone will like me and that not everyone is there to be a friend.  I learned that people can be vicious and that politics play more of a part of all of this than you realize.  I took a stand and I see now that that was when things started going weird.  I was assigned subjects that I have never taught and am not strong in.  I tried to tell myself that I was being stretched and it was going to be a good thing but then another twist was added and I realized that this was just a way to get me out of the way.  I tried to meet the challenge but failed.  I was reassigned.  I did the job I was given but teaching was no longer fun.  I had lost my passion.  I still worked hard for the kids but my heart wasn't in it anymore.
       When I was assigned a special unit, I knew that I was no longer being seen as a teacher but as someone they needed to hide away until they could figure out what to do with me.  They did.  They told me that due to budget problems, I was no longer needed.  After 13 years, I had to leave the place I was secure and had learned everything.  I was being thrown out with no other explanations.  I knew that I could throw a fit and scream and shout and cuss but it wouldn't make any difference.  So I held my tongue.  I was angry, hurt, scared, and terrified.  I had kids in college, bills to pay, a husband who depended on me having a job.  I let the fear consume me.
     That summer, I was like someone I had never seen.  I cried constantly, I called, emailed, texted school after school after school.  I went to interviews.  No one would even call me back.  Finally, mid-July I got the call to come and interview at my current school.  I went.  I interviewed.  I left thinking they hated me only to have them call me 2 hours later and offer me the job.  I was elated!  I thought that this was it!
      Once in this job, God started showing me some things.  I had become complacent in my teaching and my work.  I had become sloppy.  I was disorganized.  I was not doing my best and hadn't been for a while.  He shook my foundation heavily.  I also learned that not everyone likes me and that is okay.  The biggest lesson I had to learn was how to be silent.  I work with a person who dislikes me to the point of hating me.  I hate confrontation but on 2 occasions I had to involve my principal.  It was when nothing was done that I realized that I had to learn to be silent.  I am a talker and a fixer and to be silent for 2-3 hours at a time was hard to learn.  But I did learn it.
      I was then told I needed to leave.  Even after all the dust settled and I asked what the real reason for my leaving was, I was told I was always a one year hire.  I was only to be here for a year and nothing more.  I was shocked.  Then I realized that God needed me to be hired here so that He could show me some things.  He needed to bring me to a place that He could shape me into more of the person He wanted me to be.
     He started placing words in my heart.  He showed me the book He wanted me to write.  He stripped me down to the bare bones and showed me what I needed to do.  It wasn't all at once but in pieces.  As each piece was revealed and worked on, I saw myself changing.
     When I accepted my new job for next year, I was happy but then as time has gone on, I have begun to realize that my passion is returning and that I am excited about next year.  I am wanting to go, set up my room, meet my new assistants, and start working with my new kids.  I am ready to get going.  I haven't felt like this in many years.  I realized that that throughout this year that God has restored my passion for teaching.  My "wandering the desert" years are over for now and I am moving into a new place with my walk with God and in my profession.  It is such a blessing and such a relief.
     Be blessed.  I am always praying.
     

My Perception--Part Two

     I told you in the last blog that this was at least a two part blog.  Thanks for hanging in there with me as I share my thoughts with you.
     As I said, things changed when one of my best friends suddenly told me that he wanted to date me.  I was shocked, excited, and thrilled!  Someone actually liked me as a girl and not just as one of the boys.  We began to date and before long, he told me he loved me.  He would tell me daily how beautiful I was and how much he loved me (still does to this day over 25 years later).  I felt like a real, cute girl not a frumpy, fat elephant.
      We eventually decided to get married.  Things that could go wrong with this plan did for me.  I couldn't  find the dress I had dreamed of in my size or price range.  I ended up having my mom make my dress. That caused the old ugliness of being less than pretty, fat, etc back up.  This continued to reek havoc on me to the point that I eventually asked for a family only wedding because I was afraid of being the fat bride that everyone talked about.  Everyone agreed and we got married.  
      As time moved forward we found out I was pregnant with our first.  I loved being pregnant (after I got over the morning sickness).  Unfortunately, I had a horrendous case of post partum depression once my son came.  I felt fat all the time.  I would diet and lose a bit but everywhere I looked, everyone was skinny.  I felt like a whale once again.
       We had 2 more boys and by the time the 3rd came along, I had decided that I didn't care anymore.  But I did.  I knew in my heart that if I didn't do something that I would lose my husband to someone prettier, skinnier, etc.  That was far from the truth but it was my perception.  I tried diets and exercise, weight watchers, and it was almost obsessive with me.  My husband told me many times that he loved me the way I was and that I was beautiful.  I just couldn't get that through my head.  I thought that if I didn't lose 100 pounds I was doomed.  Diets, etc. started up and failed.
       One day, I woke up and decided enough was enough.  I wasn't ever going to be a size 6.  I was healthy.  I was happy and I had a family who loved me.  I was done trying to live up to the world's expectations.  I started living life.  It was a turning point for me.
       Lately, I have been thinking about how I look and I would like to lose some weight.  I am being realistic in how much I want to lose.  The thing is this, someone told me recently that the reason that a lot of people gain weight is that they get into a relationship, etc and become happy so they eat more.  I am pretty sure I took it wrong but it sounded like that if you are happy and are eating and exercising then you should be a skinny person.  Why?  Why do I have to be a size 6, 8, 10.  Why can't I be happy, eat what I like in moderation, exercise, and not be a skinny mini?  Another person told me that if I tried harder then I would actually lose weight.  I didn't even know this person.  Why are they judging me based on how I look?  Why can't I be seen for who I am?  Why is everything tied to looks, weight, etc?  I hate that society ties everything to weight and looks.
     When you see me, you will see that I am far from skinny.  I am happy.  I eat what I like in moderation.  I do exercise.  I live life fully.  I am not a glamour girl.  I don't wear a lot of makeup and I could care less if I have the latest style of clothes (I love my blue jeans!!).   This is a far cry from when I was younger but there comes a time when you wake up and realize you are 47 years old and there are so many other things that are important.
    My perception then was distorted and twisted.  Now, I think I have it right.  Time will tell.

My Perception--Part One

    I have missed writing this past week.  The State of Texas deemed last week as a testing week for students and as a result, there was no time for email much less blogging.  I am back again though and I have to say that I am glad. 
    This post is one that is really hard to write. It needs to be written but it is hard to write because it is so personal. It is going to be at least two parts if not three parts. 
     I have always had an image problem. I have always been a large person even when I was little. I know this. As a younger person, I was active as much as any other child. I was outside more than I was inside. I ran, biked, climbed, etc. but I was still a large person. I know that growing up my parents tried hard to keep me eating healthy and not a lot of sweets. They didn't let me drink a lot of sodas and sugary things. As I got older, I knew I was not skinny like the other girls in my school. I knew that I was what people deemed "fat". I tried dieting from time to time. I tried all kinds of crazy diets.
      I remember the summer between 8th and 9th grade. I decided that I was really fat so I managed to go several days without eating. I drank lots of water and juice so that no one would know and I almost pulled it off for 3 weeks but then at youth camp everyone got food poisoning except me and a couple of other kids. It was then that they discovered I wasn't eating and made me eat. Needless to say I contracted food poisoning as well because they made me eat the food everyone else had been eating. (In their defense, they didn't know until a couple of weeks later that it was food poisoning at the time.) 
      I hated high school (that's another blog) and having issues with how I looked just added to that. I was certain that I was the fattest person in school (I really wasn't but that was my perception).  I went on to college and was paired with a wonderful, sweet girl who was absolutely beautiful. I was devastated. I felt like a large elephant compared to her and the other girls. I took a lot of my anger out on her indirectly. (Eventually, I went and apologized to her and we talked and today we are friends like I had hoped we would be). As time went on, my perception of myself got worse. I spiraled down. (Again, this will be another blog). My weight went up and down and I felt horrible. The first two years were hard for me because I couldn't seem to get away from this image problem.
     My junior year things started changing a bit. I met two guys who became my best friends. We did everything together. They didn't seem to care that I wasn't a skinny person. They didn't care that I didn't wear the designer clothes. They liked me for who I was. I actually started thinking about things other than how I looked. I was actually enjoying college, life, and I felt like I was someone. I thought that I might actually be someone that guys would look at that think about dating and not as just a little sister.  By the time my senior year started, I realized that I was just one of the guys.  But things would change in a way I never imagined.
    

My Daddy

      Today, my daddy has been on my mind a lot.  He is an interesting man. He is not tall but he isn't short.  He has gray hair (probably a lot of it from me), ruddy skin, a contagious laugh, and a loving heart.  He had a hard life growing up and not once have I heard him use this as an excuse for not doing something or accomplishing something.  He was in one of the worst wars ever to be in and he came back from it scarred both physically and emotionally but he did not once take it out on us that I was ever aware of.  
       He shared his love of liverwurst and vienna sausages with me (not really a good thing but it happens).  He found activities, tv shows, etc. that we could share and made time to do that with both me and my brother.  He found time to be at piano recitals, choir concerts, etc.  He made sure to take time for Saturday rides, chinaberry wars in the backyard, trips to the beach, and shopping for stuff he could probably have cared less about. He made sure that we were in church as much as possible.  He also made sure that we had the things we needed and we never seemed to go without even when times were tough.  He also showed me how to be someone who helped others without complaint. 
     My daddy taught me to look for a man who wouldn't hesitate to love me and tell me constantly that he loved me no matter what.  My daddy taught me to look for a man who treated me like a princess.  My daddy taught me to look for the good in people even when there didn't appear to be any good.  My daddy taught me (although this lesson took a very long time) to know when to talk and when to be quiet.  My daddy taught me to be picky about who I wanted to spend my life with.  My daddy told me that if I was ever abused in any form then that person would have to deal with him first and last.
     My daddy is really a softie at heart.  He cuddled my boys when they were little, played in the floor with them, played silly games with them, and taught them how to cheat at UNO.  He taught them how to love hot dogs and bologna (again not really a good thing but it happens).  Even despite my own misgivings, he taught my boys how to shoot a BB gun.  When my nieces and nephew came into the picture, he had no problem wearing a princess crown, playing Wii with them, or getting on the trampoline or scooter with them.  He calls, texts, and emails us just to see if we are okay for no reason.
     My daddy did try to find humor in things to get our minds off of pain or hurts.  He was like that.  Although, the one time he tried humor while I was in labor, didn't quite work like he hoped.  I laugh about it now though so maybe it did work.  
    He cries over our heartaches.  He laughs over our adventures.  He gets angry over our injustices and wants to come defend us. Even now, he does all this.  Through it all he prays for us every day.  My daddy is one of the greatest heroes I have in my life.  
    

My Guys

       I think I have said it before but family is very important to me.  My world revolves around my husband and my boys. I know that people often think that I put too much into them but I love them so very much that I just can't picture my world without them.
      My husband is tall, quiet, and keeps to himself until he gets to know you.  Once he gets to know you then you find out that he is funny and smart.  With me he is very loving and caring. I love that he wants to snuggle on the couch when we watch television or movies or such.  He holds my hand all the time.  He is constantly hugging me and showing me his affection.  I know it sounds corny but he recently made me a mix of music for my ipod and he is continually adding to it.  It is all music that reminds him of me.  He even went so far as to listen to a country station one day for music.  If you really know him, then you know that he is a classic rock guy and listening to country was an endurance test.  He knows that I like country though so he made an effort.  He helps me cook supper from time to time and I love that time when we are side by side doing that.  He takes care of us, encourages us, manages our finances (which I am so glad), and is creative with adventures that take us to new places. We have been married for 25 years now and it still seems like we are still just coming off our honeymoon.  He is the hero of my heart.
      My oldest son is athletic, smart, and funny.  He is such a people person which is a good thing since he is in the marketing business.  He is a lot like his daddy.  He loves with every inch his soul and he has no problem showing his love.  He calls me regularly just to say hi and see if I am okay and let me know how he is doing.  He has a strong Christian foundation and is such a godly man. Just like his daddy.  He knows how to make me laugh and does it all the time.
       My middle son is so very smart, musical, quiet, and funny.  He knows that if he starts a certain quote then I will start laughing no matter what mood I am in.  He is a genius with computer systems.  He is also most like his daddy.  He cares deeply and he is sensitive although a lot of people don't see that.  He is kind, giving, helpful, and respectful to everyone.  He is going to be a great catch for some girl and she had better watch out because he will sweep her off her feet when he realizes she is the one for him.  (His daddy did that with me.)
      My youngest son is talented in so many ways as well. He is musically inclined, theatrical, and knowledgeable about so many aspects of history and such. He is determined, personable, funny, and kind hearted.  He treats people with respect but he also has an opinion for everything.
      My kids are smart like their daddy.  I am the cute one!  (HAHA!!!).  They are so different yet so alike in many ways.  They make me laugh.  They have no problem giving us hugs or showing affection.  They are talented beyond measure.  I am so stinking proud of all that they have done, are doing, and are going to do.
     I could go on and on about my family.  I love them more than words can say.  They are my world.  Be blessed.  
      

Pope Francis

      I saw a television interview recently on Pope Francis.  In case you don't know him, he is THE head of the Catholic church and lives is a little place called "The Vatican".  As I watched the interviews and the story unfold, I was more and more impressed with this man.
     He is not a run of the mill Catholic Pope.  He believes in service, being humble, living simply, and doing what God has called him to do.  He expects the same from his fellow priests, cardinals, etc.  He is having to clean up the mess that has transpired over the years in the Catholic church which is no small undertaking.  The press talked about how tired he looked.  They talked about him like he was under a microscope.  It was during all this scrutiny that I realized something.  People ask him to pray for them, heal them, bless them, forgive them, etc. He is responsible for leading these churches and the people under him.  I wondered if there was ever a time when he just shed the robes, put on a pair of slacks and a shirt and took a vacation.  From everything that was said in the interview, this is not likely.  So, him having time off is rare or non-existent.
     This then led me to think about something else.  We pray for our pastors and leaders in our churches.  The Bible instructs us to do so.  God instructs us to do so.  So, why can't I also pray for this man?  No, I am not Catholic.  I am very familiar with the Catholic church since I grew up with friends who were Catholic.  That doesn't mean that I can't pray for this man.  He carries a heavy "weight" with all that he has to do.  I know that he is of a different denomination.  Okay.  He doesn't believe like I do. Okay.  I am still going to pray for this man.  He is just as deserving of prayer as anyone else.
      I know that not everyone will agree with me on this and that is okay.  I believe in praying for people.  I believe that God has me pray for certain people for a reason.  So I will pray for Pope Francis daily.  If God places a specific person on your heart then I would suggest that you listen and that you pray for them.  There may be a reason that you are unaware of that they need your prayer.
     Know that I am always praying.  Be blessed.

God's 2x4

     I am so blessed beyond measure!  Recently, I was shown just how blessed I am.  
     I tell God constantly that He has to hit me on the head with a 2x4 so that I can hear Him.  I know that He gives us signs and words and people in our lives to give us His message but I am not good at reading these things so I ask Him to really let me know loudly, so to speak.
      This particular adventure all started with a message from a friend that there was an opening for an English teacher at a school close to my home.  The message came as I was leaving work.  I was so excited!  I started praying immediately.  I talked to God and I told Him that I seriously wanted the English job but if He wanted me to stay where I was then I would gladly stay there.  I told Him that it was going to be totally in His hands but He was going to have to "hit me with 2x4" so that I was clear about what I was to do.  I told Him I was going to go on faith and I knew that whatever He had for me then it was going to be amazing.
      The next night, I had a dream.  In this dream I could only see half of everything.  I knew I was chasing a trash truck.  All the sudden a police car came around me and over the loud speaker, the voice kept saying, "I have this.  You can stop now."  The voice said it 3 times.  On the third time, I hit something really hard and everything went white.  As the white cleared up, I could see through what appeared to be foggy glass.  I could see my current co-workers but they could not see or hear me.  I woke up feeling somewhat confused.  I shared this dream with my husband because sometimes a dream is just a dream.  He pondered on it for a bit and then told me that it was interesting and maybe we should just wait and see.  My antenna went up.  I started praying and asking God to show me the meaning of this dream.
      On the Friday of that week, I was called into a meeting.  I was given some news and told that I would have to make a choice.  Without hesitating, I made the choice.  I stressed over telling my family but finally, I did.  Their reaction took me by surprise.  They were so supportive and so comforting.  The stress fell away and peace came over me.
      I told God that I was in His hands completely on this journey and wherever He guided me to go then that would be it.  I knew that this was going to be a huge step for me because I stress and worry and freak out over just about everything.  This time, I wasn't doing that.  That is when it hit me.  The dream.  This was God saying to me, "I have this.  You can stop."  It was such a lightning bolt!  I was excited and I started just praising God for this.
      I started applying for jobs.  Job after job came open that I was more than qualified for.  I knew it was early in the year and that there would be lots of openings as the school year came to a close.  I prayed and thanked God daily for the opportunity to start fresh and to be closer to home.  About 2 weeks later, I got a call.  Could I come for an interview for Special Ed teacher?  I said yes and prepared to get ready for this interview.  (I hate interviewing because I feel so exposed).  
      Last Friday, I went to the interview.  I got there early (Mrs. Sebesta always told us, "To be early is to be on time and to be on time is to be late.").  They took me in immediately.  The principals and I met and talked for what seemed to be a short time but in reality it was 45 minutes.  (That is a good interview!)  Towards the end of the interview, I mentioned that I had resigned and was walking on faith for a new job closer to home. They told me that one way or another I would be notified of their decision.  I left feeling strange.  Not happy or sad.  I can't explain the feeling.
     On Monday morning, I told God, I wasn't sure how I felt about the interview but that I would know in my heart it was His hand guiding me no matter what.  At 9:30am, my phone rang.  It was the school I had interviewed with.  They offered me the job.  Without hesitation, I heard a loud "yes" in my heart and so I answered, "Yes!"  The principal gave me some information then she said, "You are right to let God guide your path like this.  I am excited to work with you!"  God had spoken through this lady to me.  I had listened and He had answered my prayers.  I started crying.  Tears of joy, relief, and praise!  I cried every time I spoke of this.  
     So you see, I am blessed beyond measure.  God honored my faithfulness and my heart's desire to continue in the teaching field. He also showed me another lesson.  I love English but I am really and truly a Special Ed teacher. I always go for the underdog and I have a burning desire to help those kids who struggle.  Another heart lesson that He wanted me to learn.
      I didn't let my fears, worries, freak outs rule me.  I trusted in God and put my faith, hopes, dreams, and desires into His hands.  That is the whole point here.  We have to step out and know that "He has this."
      Be blessed.  I am always praying.

My Mom-in-Law

    I had a great Mom-in-Law.  She was anything but the typical Mom-in-Law. She was not condescending, hateful, or anything like you hear about in the media. She welcomed me with open arms from the very first time I met her and was introduced as "just a friend". (Later she told me that when my hubby introduced me, she knew at that moment that I was going to be her daughter-in-law). She may have been short but she was a powerhouse when it came to loving her kids and her family. She supported me, guided me, helped me more times than I could ever count.  She would pray over me all the time.  She never spoke an unkind word about anyone or anything.  She was sweet and loving to everyone she came in contact with.  She was such a Godly woman.  She gave of herself willingly even when she didn't feel good.  She was talented in art and she made many things over the years for the family.  She was a great role model for me.  She could cook for large quantities of people and never got flustered about it.  She knew how to welcome people and make them feel special.  
     I try really hard to be like her. I want to be that kind of Mom-in-Law for my kids when the time comes.  I want to be that kind of mom to my kids. I want them to remember me as a kind, sweet, loving, gentle, person. Not a snarky, crazy, angry weirdo. Unfortunately, there are many times when I fall flat and the weirdo in me comes out. It is in these times, that I have to remember and think hard about the words I choose, my actions, and my thoughts. 
     Unfortunately, we lost her to a hateful disease.  It broke my heart.  I realized just how much a part of my life she was.  Even to this day, I can't think about her or talk about her without choking up and crying a bit.  I know it is strange but I visit her grave often to talk things over with her and I write letters to her.  I know that she is in heaven and I know that she won't answer me but just talking it out with her seems to help me. It helps me to put things in perspective.
       I know that someday I will see her. I look forward to that day. I hope that I am making her proud of me and the way I am caring for my family and raising my kids. I know that by using her as an example, I have a great start. Be blessed.  I am praying always.

Speaking Plainly

     I have this unique gift. I like to think of it as a gift. I love children.  I have always wanted to work with kids since I can remember. I teach so therefore, during the week, I work with kids but then on Sundays, I work in the church nursery.  I love to rock and cuddle the babies that come stay in there for a short while. They grow so fast that it seems like a short time.
      One Sunday, I walked into the nursery and there was a little girl screaming her head off. She wanted her momma and daddy and nothing was working to calm her down.  I looked at the little girl and stood there for a minute. Then I held out my arms. She stopped crying and held her arms up. Now, I knew that she thought I was going to take her to her momma but instead, I decided to talk plainly to her. (I should note here that when my own kids were growing up, we never baby talked to them. We treated them like they were little versions of ourselves. Maybe that's why they have sarcasm down to an art. (That is a joke!)) 
     I told this child (who is almost 2) that her momma and daddy were going to come back.  They always came back because they loved her so. I went on to tell her that they needed to go hear their Bible story and then once they finished that they would come and get her.  I then explained to her that we were going to go sit in the rocking chair and rock for a minute and calm down. I told her that she needed to settle in and just relax. I stood there for a just minute longer and then I went and sat down. This little girl looked up at me as we sat down and then she turned and snuggled up against me and went to sleep. Trust me when I say that method doesn't always work but every once in a while I get lucky and it works.
     I believe that God does the same thing with us.  We are having a tantrum, screaming and kicking to get our way.  God picks us up, tells us plainly in His words what is going to happen and why and then He holds us close to give us that reassurance that He loves us.   It is in this time that we can close our eyes and just breathe Him in. It is in this time that we can relax because we know that He is in charge and He has a plan. I love that.
     Be blessed.  I am always praying.
   

A Granddaddy Memory

    My family means everything to me so you will hear me talk about them all the time.  My maternal grandparents were a large influence in my life.  We lived next door to them for a bit, we lived with them for a bit, I stayed with them when I was sick as a child, and the list goes on. There are so many memories that I have of them.  
    My granddaddy was a principal, a superintendent, and an elder in the church.  He did the grocery shopping, he did the yard work (when I was younger), he helped his neighbors without second thoughts.  He loved to hunt and he liked piddle around in his "work space" in the garage.  He paid the bills at his desk and he loved to read and learn new things.
    Even with all these things, he always found time to read to me, show me how to plant things, how to have compassion for those less fortunate than us, how to be a help to others, and so on.  He always seemed to have time for me. 
     For 8 years, I was the only grandchild so in some ways, I was a bit spoiled by my grandparents but in other ways, I was not.  One memory that I have was earning a dollar from my granddaddy when I was about 5 years old.  I was so excited!  The next day we went to town and I had my dollar.  It was burning a hole in my pocket.  There was a man selling trinkets outside the store and I just had to have one.  Now, my granddaddy advised against it but I was adamant that I wanted that trinket.  So, he allowed me to purchase it.  We started home.  Upon arriving at home, I was so excited to show everyone my new trinket that I jumped out of the car and immediately it fell to the ground and shattered.  I was crushed.  I begged to go back and get another one.  My granddaddy (with a long face) told me sternly but lovingly that this was not possible.  He explained that this was the reason that he had been encouraging me to not purchase this item.  My heart was broken.  I just knew that he was being mean at that time.  I ran into the house crying.  I was expecting sympathy but instead, I found that everyone was saying the same thing.  I should have listened to my granddaddy.  He was wiser and knew what he was talking about.  
      After a little bit, I went and found my granddaddy.  I apologized to him for throwing a fit (let's be real, I really threw a temper tantrum over the trinket thing).  He gathered me in his arms, hugged me, and then said that this lesson was one of the hardest lessons that he had to watch me learn.  He told me that he loved me but he had to let me find out the hard way that he knew what he was talking about.  That left a definite impression on me.  I still remember that day like it just happened.
     God is like that with us.  He knows what is best and He has our best interest at heart.  He wants the best for us.  Not some trinket that will break within 5 minutes after we buy it.  If we allow Him, He will show us the best of the best and greatest of the greatest because we are His children and He loves us without conditions.  It is a hard thing for Him to watch us go off and do what we want instead of what He has shown us to do.  Stop and listen to His voice.  Wait. Pray. It will save you some heartache in the end.  His way is best.  Always has been and always will be.  Be blessed.  I am always praying.

Burdens

    Right now, I drive an hour one way to get to work.  So, during that time, I have conversations with God.  I try really hard to make sure not to gripe or complain about things.  Then it struck me.  My burdens which seem absolutely huge to me are actually a little bitty thing when you think about ALL the burdens that God has to deal with.  I almost stopped my car when I thought about that.  My burdens which tend to weigh me down and make me miserable are just a speck of what God deals with.  
    He has to deal with all of us sinning and doing what I call "being stupid".  Then there is the people who are trashing His name and twisting His words.  On top of all that there are the people who are not committing to Him or refusing to acknowledge Him.  That is just the tip of the iceberg.  God has to deal with burdens that are beyond my ability to comprehend.  It blew my mind trying to even fathom a small part of what He has to deal with.
    I feel blessed to know that I don't have to carry my burdens around with me although Satan would absolutely love it if I did.  Satan reminds me daily, and sometimes hourly of the stuff I have done, decisions I have made, and all the mistakes that he can find to bring up.  BUT (our pastor's favorite word) In Matthew 11:28 God says, "Come to Me, all of you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest."  He then goes on to say in Matthew 11:30 "For My yoke is easy and My burden is light."  I love this!  I see hope, comfort, peace, and light in these words.  It is such an encouragement to me and my soul to know that God's way is so much better than anything here on earth.
    Even though Satan tries his hardest to keep reminding me of my wrongdoings (trust me I am the farthest thing from perfect), I keep reminding myself that I am a child of God and that I have laid down my burdens and my sins at the foot of the Cross and they are no more.  God says so!!  It is such a glorious feeling to know that the weight of the burden does not have to stay on my shoulders but that God gave us a solution for that by having His son die on the cross for us.  We have to believe with all our heart and mind and soul that God is the one true way and that there is nothing else and no one else that can help us than God the Father.
   I have told you before that there are words that have to be said and I can't hold them in.  It may not be in any grammatically correct form or writing style but that isn't really the point is it?  The point is that you have a choice to make.  Continue to carry your burdens, sorrows, woes, sins, etc and try to do it all on your own or give it ALL to God and let Him give you rest.  Which will you choose?
    Be blessed and I am always praying.

Faith

     “Faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.”  Hebrews 11:1.  God is asking us to trust Him COMPLETELY.  Have faith.
     (This is the very first Sunday text that I sent out.  Like I said previously, I was trying to stay within the 140 characters then.) 
       My grandparents, parents, Sunday School teachers, pastors, etc. have taught me over the years that I should have the faith of a mustard seed. In Matthew 17:14-20 Jesus tells the disciples that  "...if you have the faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, 'Move from here to there' and it will move.  Nothing is impossible for you."  I have dreamed of having that much faith.  That would be so absolutely amazing!!!!  That would mean that I have complete and total faith.  Unfortunately, I haven't moved any mountains and I fall flat on my face more times than not when I try to walk in faith.  I am a human, fleshly, and totally imperfect.  That is why I am so, so, so glad that I have God with me, in my heart, and surrounding me at all times.
       I am learning more and more to step out on faith without asking God, "Are you sure?"  First of all, YES HE IS SURE!  He wouldn't have asked me to do something if He wasn't.  Secondly, we need to rely and trust in Him completely and totally and definitely without question.  It is a constant process for me to stand on faith.  Satan attacks my finances, my family, my life in general and I have to continue to remember that my faith is in God and not the things of this world. I have to have faith.  I wouldn't make it without faith.  I would be a basket case without faith.  Faith is one of those things that you have to do with your heart.
       Over and over again, there are examples of people who had faith in God and did what He asked.  Over and over we see the results of that faithfulness.  Abraham offering up his son, Moses following God's instruction and leading the people out of Egypt, the Israelites marching around the walls of Jericho, David, Samuel, Samson, Gideon, Ruth, Esther, and I could go on and on.  There is example after example of people who heard God tell them to do something and without thinking twice about doing what He asked.  
       I want that kind of faith.  I want to be like these examples.  I want to be a person who walks in faith without a second thought.  God asks this simple thing of us.  He has a plan for each and everyone of our lives and He knows what is going to happen, how it is going to happen, and when it is going to happen.  That is why He tells us over and over again--"Trust Me.  Have Faith in Me."  
      Do you have faith in God?  Do you trust Him?  Are you willing to walk with Him and allow Him to guide your every step?  It is what He asks.  Can you do it?  Will you do it?   Be blessed.
I am always praying.

Wrong Number

     I loved the day when Facebook integrated my phone with my friends.  I discovered that an old childhood friend was now on my list.  He and I had grown up together since grade school and then we ended up going to the same college.  I had lost track of him over the years but thanks to Facebook, we connected again.  He had been a chaplain in the military and was now serving as a pastor locally.  I immediately added his name and number to the Sunday texts.
     After about 3 weeks, I suddenly received a strange phone call one Sunday afternoon.  The lady on the other end was irate.  She informed me that I was to quit harassing her mother with my texting.  I was baffled.  I didn't know this lady nor did I remember texting her mother.  I asked her to give me the number and I would remove it.  She did.  I made a note to look for the number.  I couldn't find that number anywhere in my phone so I just went on with my life.  The next Sunday, I sent out my text.  That afternoon, I received another call.  I explained to the same lady that I didn't know her mom nor her.  She was adamant that I had texted her.  I hung up with her and immediately the phone rang.  It was the lady (I will call her Mrs. W.) who the daughter had been calling me about.  She was whispering.  She told me that I was to keep sending her the texts.  She loved them.  She gave me a new phone number and said no matter what I was to keep them coming.  They were blessing her and she would not allow her daughter to dictate who she got messages from.
     As I looked at the number, I realized that my friend who I thought I was sending Sunday texts to all along was actually Mrs. W.  All this time, she had been receiving my texts.  I started laughing.  I was amazed as well.  Here I thought I was just reaching out to people I knew and there was this lady, whom I had never met, didn't know anything about, and she was receiving what God had placed on my heart.
    Mrs. W. has been on my list for the last 2 years and every once in a while I hear from her with a prayer request.  Again, I have never met this lady and I am pretty sure I will never meet this lady until I get to heaven.  She makes me smile when she calls.  She has such a sweet spirit about her.  
    I never did find out my friend's correct number and I am not sure that I ever was suppose to.  I just know that through a wrong number, a lady is being blessed by God's messages I send out and I am being blessed by her and her willingness to keep hearing. 
    Be blessed and know I am always praying.

Let's Start At The Very Beginning

  I figured that this title was the best to go with.  I was all set to post my first blog and then I realized that many people will be seeing this for the first time and may not know my journey to this point.  Even some of you who have been connected with me may not know this.  Well, like the title says, "Let's start at the very beginning."
   About two and a half years ago, I woke up one Sunday morning with this urge to encourage everyone in my phone. I had been down in the dumps and I was feeling a little blue that day.  I knew that a common text at that time (before smart phones really got going good) was about 140 characters.  So after some editing and thinking and editing again, I posted a simple message and then sent it to everyone in my phone.  I mean--everyone.  Immediately, I got back some texts that said, "Take me off group messages."  "Don't send these again.", etc.  I wasn't offended or anything.  I just made a note and went on my way.  That week, I had a much better attitude and things began looking up.  The next Sunday rolled around and I woke up thinking "Hey, let's do it again!" So, I did.  Only this time, I made sure to include that I was praying for everyone and that I hope they had a blessed week.  It was still a short message.
    As the next couple of weeks went by, I decided to get bolder with my messages and make them slightly longer.  I was frustrated because I had so much more to say and trying to say it in 140 characters wasn't doing it for me.  I knew that there would be some people who would complain about the length but I figured if God went to the trouble to give me something to say then I needed to say it.  Surprisingly, only one person asked me to drop them due to the length of the text.  Now, at this point, I was texting co-workers, friends, family, and people I was acquainted with.  If you were a contact in my phone, you were fair game.  All in all, it amounted to about 150 people.
    I had been sending out my Sunday messages for about 6 weeks and I decided one Sunday that I just didn't have it in me to send anything out.  I didn't have a clear word from God and I was feeling yucky (physically and spiritually).  So, I didn't send out my text.  My phone just about blew up!  I normally send the text out when I wake up or just before I leave for church (around the 8:00-8:30am time).  At 10:00am, I started getting texts.  "Are you okay?" "Are you sick?", "I didn't get my text this morning."  "Where is my text?" and the list goes on.  I was dumbfounded.  Here I thought I was just sending out a little encouragement for a bit and then I would go on my way.  Not the deal!
    I started praying and I asked God, "What the heck is going on?"  He promptly replied as He does with me (a spiritual 2x4) and told me that He had given me words to say and I needed to say them.  I argued (yes, I know!  I shouldn't have argued with God but I did.) that I couldn't say it in 140 characters.  He responded with "Who said it had to stay within 140 characters?  I have stuff for you to share."  It shook my whole being.  I was going to be sharing God's message with these people.  That was huge!  He was right (as always!) I had words that were dying to come out of me and until I wrote them down and shared them, I felt like I was going to explode.
   Needless to say, I started back on my Sunday texts.  I have only missed a couple of Sundays in that time due to illness (I do make sure to let everyone know the reason why I am missing that Sunday regardless).  Every week, I pray for God to show me or give me a word to share.  Sometimes, a picture will trigger it, sometimes a conversation, a situation, a person, etc.  I am always listening because I know that God will tell me what He has for me to say.
   As for the 140 characters, well, that went out the window after that Sunday revelation.  I took the gloves off and the messages started getting more intense.  Sometimes, they are to the point and other times, just a shared memory that ties to what God is saying in my heart.  Every time I add someone to my phone contact list, they get added to the Sunday text list.  It happens.  Yes, I have people tell me not to send it to them.  Yes, I have people who have bashed me for being "holier than thou".  I pray for them anyway and move on.  God didn't give me these words for me to get a pat on the back but He gave me these words to share so that people would know that He is there.  He wants to be a part of their life.  He wants to be in their heart.  He wants them.  Period.
    My Sunday texts have expanded to over 200 people every Sunday morning.  I love that.  Then it happened.  God told me that since there were people that didn't get my Sunday texts, I needed to do a weekly message.  I didn't even blink.  I asked Him what I should say.  So I started up a Weekly Words of Wisdom message at work about 5 months ago.  Now, at work, I have to be careful about how I word things because they frown on mentioning God in the workplace but God gives me words to say so that His message is still clear.  This message goes out to about 50 more people.
   I know this blog is long but hang with me.  The beginning is almost over.  I knew in my heart that I wanted to write and I have tried on and off to start books and such but nothing ever solidified.  Then 3 weeks ago out of the blue, a co-worker emailed me and said, "You need to write a book of these messages that you send.  They bless me and they need to be seen by others."  (That was number one.)  Several days later, a lady in my local town, called me and said that she was so blessed by my weekly texts.  She told me that she shared them with her Sunday School class and it was a blessing to others.  Then she said, "You ought to write a devotional book and include these messages.  They would be such a blessing to others." (That was number two.)  A week later, (I bet you know what I am going to say!), I was on my way out with my family and a friend from high school who I hadn't heard from in forever texted me and said, "Your Sunday texts always bless me and come just when I need that word.  You ought to write a book." (Yes, it was number three).  I don't need a 2x4 for this one.  I knew immediately what I needed to write.
   I looked up at God and said okay, this is in your hands.  The flood gates opened and I have been blessed with words beyond words to write. Every day, I have to just about restrain myself at work to keep my mind on my job and not on just wanting to sit and write.  God is pouring messages into my soul and my spirit and I am so excited!
  So this is the beginning.  You now know how it started and I hope you will continue on my journey with me.  I will be blogging a lot and some of it may sound familiar but hang with me.  I am writing the book that God has placed on my heart.  I look forward to our times together and I look forward to sharing my heart and God's words with you.
   Be blessed and know I am always praying.