Today I go to see the doctor and see if he will let me out of prison.  I really want to get back to planting and watering, etc.  And yes, I am still grouchy.

I wish I could see God.  I wish he (Jesus) was here where I could look at him.  I have no doubt that he is here in spiritual form because I feel his presence.  But it sure would be easier if I could touch him.
If I could hear his physical voice.

The apostles didn't know how good they had it.  Just think, three years--day in and day out--of living, traveling, helping and listening to Jesus.  What a blessing.  And they were ignorant of the fact.

John 1:18 "No man has seen God at any time; the only begotten Son...he has declared him."

John 14:9 "Jesus said to him, Have I been so long time with you and yet you have not known me, Phillip?  He that has seen me has seen the Father; and how do you then say, Show us the Father?"

1 Peter 1:8 "Whom (Jesus) having not seen, you love; in whom, though now you see him not, yet believing, you rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory:"

Joy unspeakable.  Full of glory.  That's what I feel when I try and understand it all.  I know he lived. I know he was God.  I know he was murdered.  I know he was resurrected.  And I know he lives.

They say that a person who knows what they know is blessed.

One other thing I know is that he conquered death and sits at the right hand of God to make intercession for me.  And that he has promised me eternal life.  And yes, I know he is coming again and every now and then I check the eastern sky.  Surely it will be soon.

One way or another, in the next fifteen or twenty years, I am going to see him.  There is no way I can live on earth to be a hundred.

I have a number of friends who are "prayer warriors."  When they pray, you are lifted up and comforted.  I would put Sally Casey at the top of the list.  I, on the other hand am so flitter-brained that if I talk to God for ten minutes, I've said everything I ever knew.  Ten minutes for me is a very long prayer.

I'm sure he knows I am sincere.  I always try to start by thanking him for all the wonderful things he has done for me.  And for mine.  I am so thankful for my friends.  And this week, I have been overwhelmed with thanks for all the people who are helping me.  Craig brought breakfast.  Ann is bringing supper.  And I got to take a real shower.  Hallelujah.  As long as I had an open wound on my arm, I couldn't.  That opening on my arm that was dripping water was probably where everything went South.  God has seen me through this--again.

I got a call from the nurse (RN) who came to my house at 6:00AM, 2:00PM and 10:00PM every day for a couple of weeks the last time I was down with my arm--to give me shots.  She didn't have to do that, but knew how I hated the hospital, so she volunteered her time and expertise.  Sometimes she brought breakfast and coffee.  Becky Bacon.  God sent her.  She reads my blog and called to say how much it meant to her and her hubby, Mike--and how was my arm?

I'm sure God heard my prayer of thankfulness for that!!  Who but a friend would get up at 5:30, drive five miles, and give you shots at six in the morning???

Mike is the pilot that flew my Bible to Fall's Creek the year I forgot to pack it.  He is a character.  He plays the part of Wiley Post at the Claremore "something-or-other" every year and dresses the part when he flies in with "Will Rogers." Wiley's eyepatch and all.  Mike was Garth Brooks and Tricia's pilot for awhile.  He has almost as many flying stories as Ken did.

Proverbs 17:17 "A friend loveth at all times, and a brother (family member) is born for (when you have) adversity."  Thank you Jesus for friends and family.  (That's a prayer, not much, but a prayer nonetheless.)

I must be better, because I am very irritated and grouchy.  I want up and around, but when I get up, I can only make it to the nearest chair.  It is so humiliating, frustrating, dehumanizing.  See, I told you I must be getting better.  People say, "It must be depressing to have this happen over and over."  But no, it just makes me mad.  I feel like my body is betraying me.  I take good care of myself, so why would my body turn on me this way.   I do thank God that my mind is not what is the problem.  My mom died with Alzheimer's.  That's the disease that kills the family.  It's pretty horrible.

A friend called to agree with me about the John Wayne and Billings airports.  Nice to know I'm not just a scaredy cat.

Jon came over yesterday to help.  He changed the linens on my bed.  I can't get the fitted sheet over the corners anymore on a good day, but when I am down it is hopeless to try.  It was nice to go to bed on clean sheets.  He brought my three year old grandson, Brady.  He is at such a cute age.  Brady marched in and said, "I need to feed the fish."  And he did.  One pellet at a time.  Kept him busy.  Jon brings him to Becky's to swim in the pool and I pick him up to come over and stay with me when he dries off.  He has become an expert "fish-feeder."

I write this blog for you.  But right now I don't have much depth to spare.

I think of what Paul said: Romans 1:11-12 "For I long to see you, that I may impart unto you some spiritual gift, to the end that you may be established; That is, that I may be comforted together with you by the mutual faith of both you and me."

That is true.



 

 

I am better.  Not able to get outside to the garden, but better.

I have taken off and landed in dozens and dozens of airports--both here and overseas.  But the two that send chills up my spine are John Wayne in Orange County, and Billings, Montana.

John Wayne lost the fight--to keep normal take off and landing procedures--to a retirement community at the end of the runway that objected to the noise.  (The airport was there first--years before.)  As a result, when you land, you literally drop out of the sky onto the runway.  Your tummy feels horrible.  And when you take off, it is straight up.  Like a navy jet.  Gravity pulls you back into the seat with great force.  The noise on the ground is less, but the discomfort in the plane is great.

Billings Montana lies in a valley that was carved by a glacier (I was told) and the airport is on a mountain--actually a flat-top-looking-mountain-mesa kind of thing--that lies to the East of the valley.  It is short.  It is narrow. You land on the South edge of the runway and come to a stop at the end of the runway on the North end.  Just enough feet to make it if you have good brakes.  If you over shoot, you are going to drop into the valley at the end of the runway.  Straight down.

I've been into both of them many, many times and I will never get used to it.  They are high on my fear list.  But my daughter lived in Billings for a few years, and one of my best friends lived in Santa Ana.  So I turned the fear over to God, held my breath, and got on the plane knowing what was in store.  What are you going to do?   You can't stop living because of fear or you will miss what's at the other end.

Proverbs 29:25 The fear of man brings a snare; but whosoever, puts his trust in the Lord shall be safe."  The snare is that fear keeps you from doing the things you want, or need, to do.

I am finally home after four days.  My strength is gone.  Dissipated.  But I can now stand up without looking like a wet noodle and falling.  You would think that an infection in your arm would be no big deal, but it goes septic and spreads through your entire body.  Enough about that.

My cousin Ann and my sister Lisa have been taking care of me.  Thank God for family.  Now all I have to do is take it one step at a time.  I am much better today.

Adversity.  I asked Ann this question, "Why do you think these things happen to us?"  She said, "Without adversity, how can you relate to those who are suffering and be believable?"  Which is true. If life was always full of roses for you, no one would find your empathy to be sincere.  You could not truly relate to the suffering of others.

Jesus suffered.  His life was lived on a road that lead to an early death--but only after he had suffered.  A friend of mine related to me the story in Genesis where Adam was cursed with having to fight the thorns to reap a harvest.  He then said that the curse was fulfilled when Christ wore those thorns as a crown.

Whatever your lot in life, God is in it with you.  Don't be bitter.  Don't be angry.  Try--as best as is in you--to endure.  I have no idea why we suffer.  I have no idea why we have pain, sickness, trials, and misery.  We just do.  But we are never forsaken by God--because Jesus took that on himself for us.  He cried, "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me."  When he died for us, he bore not only our sins, but also being forsaken--so that we will never have to be forsaken by God.  Jesus paid it all.

He is our strength.  He is our salvation.  He is our God.

There are two ways to deal with adversity.  You can blame God.  Or you can accept the fact that the Bible says that it rains on the just and the unjust--and just deal with it.  I subscribe to the second way of thinking.  God is not against me.  He is my Father and is on my side.  I just happened to be born into an evil world that wars against me for my body and my soul.

My doctor is very concerned that this keeps coming back over such short time spans.  But.  That is my lot.  The secret to never getting this is to never have breast cancer.  If they strip your lymph nodes, and if the cancer has spread to those, they strip the next set of lymph nodes.  My cancer was in both sets.  Aggressive and had spread.  Now, the upside.  I lived.  It's been six years.

Praise God.   I am seventy-seven and still trucking.  The doctor told me I was courageous in the way I fight.   Which was nice to hear.  Why give up.  I plan to have many more years.

If you want to pray for me, pray that my strength returns.  I am very weak.  And laying in a hospital bed for three days doesn't help that.  I am so glad that I got moved to Edmond.  There are a lot of people here to help me.

Psalms 27:14 Wait on the Lord:  Be of good courage, and he shall strengthen your heart:  wait, I say, on the Lord"

Ezra 10:4  "Arise; for this matter belongs to you (that's me). We (that's you) will also be with you.  Be of good courage, and do it."  I can, and I will.

Psalms 31:24 "Be of good courage, and he shall strengthen your heart, all of you that hope in the Lord."  He is my hope.

 It says He will strengthen your heart.  That is where courage comes from to endure what befalls you.  The only part of those verses that is really hard for me is the waiting.  I'm no good at waiting.

I am back in the hospital with my arm.  It looks like I have third degree burns over the entire arm.  And it itches like crazy.  The reason I moved to Edmond is so I have help when this happens.  It is very frustrating.  But I have a good doctor.  Craig, (Becky's husband) has the dog.

There isn't anything I can do about it.  Just lie here and let the antibiotics do their thing.  It usually takes three days for it to start to heal.  Bummer.  I hallucinate on the drugs they give me.  Pat says I called her at 1:00 AM this morning, and rambled on and on for thirty minutes.  I don't remember that.

I don't have my Bible which is  absolutely necessary.  I could use the online Bible, but I use the concordance to look up the verse that I want to share.  My Bible is a Thomason's Chain.  It is really helpful.  I bought it in the early sixties and it needs to be rebound.  Every margin is full of notes that I have jotted down when someone was teaching that chapter.

There is a huge cross erected outside my window.  I like that.  It towers over the skyline.

Jesus said that there were two commandments.  To love the Lord your God with all your heart, and to love your neighbor as you love yourself.

People gloss over the fact that we are to love God.  He is worthy of our love.

When a fella is looking for a wife, let's face it, he is looking for a "good-looking-gal."  I doubt men give much thought to her brains.  I could be mistaken--I apologize to you men if I am.  But think back when you were inclined to find someone to spend your life with.  What was your criteria?  Did you even have criteria?

When Ken (at age 26) decided that he was ready to settle down, he had a mental list of the requirements he was looking for in a woman.  He later admitted that "Pretty" was high on the list.  Christian, same faith and denomination--he was old enough to realize that there would be no conflict over religion if we were both from the same faith. "So, I met all your requirements," I bragged.  "No, you didn't.  Only eight out of ten.  You were too young, and you had never had to take care of yourself--you had never been out on your own.  I knew that would present problems."  That took the air out of my balloon.

One of the things that makes Boaz especially endearing to me is that his list was so different than you would think it would be.  I am sure that Ruth must have been attractive because Boaz noticed her and picked her out from all the other women as she was gleaning.  But.  Having said that, "...then Boaz said to his servant that was set over the reapers, Whose damsel is this?" Ruth 2:5

So Boaz approached Ruth and said to her, (vs.11-12) "...It has been showed to me all that you have done unto your mother-in-law since the death of your husband:  and how you have left your father and mother, and left your native land, and are come unto a people which you didn't know before.  The Lord recompense your work, and a full reward be given to you of the Lord God of Israel, under whose wings you have come to trust."  

Boaz was very wealthy.  He had his pick of women.  He chose Ruth because he highly regarded her character.   There is a lot more to a woman than the outside package.  Ruth was a woman of high character.  And Boaz was a very smart man.

Keith Miller wrote a book called "The Second Touch."  I bought it in the sixties, but loaned it out and of course, it's gone.  It's worth reading.  It covers the verses I wrote about yesterday.

I started a study of the book of Ruth last night at church, and was reminded of something I had forgotten concerning Boaz.  Ruth was a Moabite.  The Jews hated them because they were the descendants of an incestuous relationship between Lot and his two daughters.  (Remember that Lot was the nephew of Abraham.  And Abraham is the father of the Jews.)  The descendants of Abraham considered themselves to be "Purebloods."

When Naomi's husband and both her sons died, her daughter-in-law Ruth chose to follow Naomi back to Bethlehem.  Being a Moabite, she probably was not accepted by the people there.  But Ruth cared for Naomi.  Ruth went to glean to see that the two of them had grain. The field she chose belonged to a man named Boaz.  Ruth later married Boaz.

Remember when Joshua sent two spies into Jericho and they were hidden by the harlot Rahab?  Well, she was spared when they took the land, and was rescued by the Jews.  She lived her life with the Jews and had a son.  Boaz.  That is what I had forgotten.

It makes it more understandable that Boaz wouldn't have looked down on Ruth--because his own mother was a Gentile.  And an unclean one at that. (In the eyes of the Jews.)

But Boaz's mother Rahab had chosen to cast her lot with the Jews and with their God.  Ruth did the same.  She told Naomi, "...Intreat me not to leave you, or to return from following after you; for wherever you go, I will go; and where you lodge, I will lodge: your people shall be my people, and your God my God."  God is not a respecter of persons.  We shouldn't be either.

Did Jesus ever fail to heal someone?  I guess it is how you look at the situation.  In Mark 8:22-25, Jesus was on his way to Bethsaida when some people brought a blind man to him and begged Jesus to touch him.

For some reason, Jesus took the blind man by the hand and led him out of the town.  "And He came to Bethsaida; and they brought a blind man unto him and besought him to touch him.  And he took the blind man by the hand, and led him our of the town; and when he had spit on his eyes, and put his hands upon him, he asked him if he saw ought.  And he (the man) looked up, and said, I see men as trees, walking.  After that, He (Jesus) put his hands again upon his eyes, and made him look up: and he was restored, and saw every man clearly."

A second touch restored him.  Why not the first touch???  I think this passage describes how some of us are brought to the Lord.  The passage gives me comfort.

When I was a child, I felt the tug of the Holy Spirit to give my life to Jesus--so I did.  How much sin does a child have?  How much do they understand about salvation?  But with limited understanding our salvation begins.  Paul said in 1 Corinthians 13:11-12 "When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child...through a glass, darkly..."  Like the man who saw men as blurred trees walking around.  We don't understand it all.

Later in my life, I realized that there was more to salvation than I had known as a child.  I reaffirmed my commitment to Jesus.  I gave him an adult life.  And since then I see his plan of salvation clearly.

A second touch.

I love Jason Crabb.  When he sings "He'll take you through the fire again,"  I get chill bumps.  And when he sings, "I'd rather have Jesus than anything..."  I am lifted up.  I don't know how to describe his voice.  It's raspy.  I love it.

Music is a strenge phenomenon  that humans enjoy.  We understand sounds.  God could have given us one note.  But no, He gave us an octave of notes that we can mix and match and combine to bring joy to our hearts.

Every Friday, my cousin Ann picks me up and we go garage sale hopping.  It's fun.  I never buy anything--I don't need anything.  The thing I love about it is meeting people.  Ann was a music teacher in the Edmond system for twenty-five years and knows everyone.  Now, she teaches piano to twenty or more students.  She is a wonderful musician.  Someday her students will know how God blessed them by letting them have such a wonderful teacher.

Our mothers were sisters, and both of them were determined that Ann and I would be totally and completely competent in everything.  They drove us--to play musical instruments, to speak in public, to have all the social graces, etc.  Which I am glad for now, but then we both hated it.  We lived on the same street so it was a combined effort.  What one of them didn't push us to do, the other one did.

It's fun to talk about old times.  The thing both of us remember is how much our fathers loved us both.  They were such kind men.  But of course, they didn't have to make us do anything--our mothers took care of all that.  I couldn't tell the difference (nor could she) in the way the four parents treated us and loved us.  It was a wonderful extended family.  I am so thrilled to once again live close to her.  She is the sister I didn't have.  (Until 21 years later when Lisa came along--but she was like one of my children, not a sister.)

Proverbs 16: 44-46 "...As is the mother, so is her daughter.  You are you mother's daughter..."

Looking back, I am so thankful for my parents.  God could have plopped my soul in deep dark Africa in the mud.  But no, he blessed me with Christian home.  And....in America.  None of us deserve the great blessings he has bestowed on us.  No, we find ourselves complaining about what's wrong rather than getting on our knees and praising him for his loving kindness in what he has given us.

Get some knee-pads.

I called my brother (doctor) and asked him if he had ever heard of a person dripping tear drops out of their arm.  "What!?" he said.  "I don't think that is possible.  I've never heard of such a thing."

He has been a doctor for forty-five years.  "That is just crazy," he said.  "But if anyone is going to have some weird thing happen to them, it would be you."

I think God uses me as a test case for things.  Probably because I am tolerant.  It's been four days.  I don't see how it can heal since there is no blood to clot.  Just water.  Weird.

I finished pulling up the elm trees in the front flower bed yesterday and planted three hundred or so mondo-grass seedlings.  They will grow so tight and thick that the elm seeds won't be able to reach dirt next year.  That's my plan.  I hope it works.

The front yard is starting to look fantastic.  It is so late in the season for planting that I didn't know if anything would make it.  Everything is alive so far.  Makes me really happy.

There are some verses in the Psalms that I really like.  I memorized them long ago.  Psalm 1: 1-3  "Blessed is the man (person) (whose)....delight is in the law of the Lord;....he shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that brings forth his fruit in his season;  his leaf also shall not wither; and whatsoever he does shall prosper."

If you plant yourself by God's word, the living water will nourish you with life.  God's word is a lamp unto our feet and a light unto our path.

Plant something in the right place with the right soil and water it,  and it will grow.

We have earthquakes here in Edmond.  For the most part, they are centered north toward Guthrie.  They don't really amount to anything.  When you have lived in California with its constant quakes, you are used to it.  California quakes shake the entire house.  You get your first clue when the chandelier  begins to sway back and forth.  You move under a door frame or go outside if it gets bad.  And then you wait to see what is going to happen.  If it isn't a quake, it's a fire.  We lived in Santa Ana a couple of times, and the fires and winds and the quakes there were always a concern.

After a few quakes, you get complacent.  We lived in California three different times.  Once was on the San Francisco fault across the bay at Hayward.  Edmond quakes don't count compared to that.  There was a whole lot of shaking going on.

Danger has a way of numbing you when it occurs on a regular basis.  You learn to live with it, then you learn to forget about it.  I've gotten that way about tornadoes.  I used to be so very frightened.  Now, I get up and look out the window or go out on the porch if the siren blows.  

Ken said that when you get shot at every day, you finally realize you are a dead man.  Then you just keep on keeping on.  Danger becomes commonplace.  You do what you have to do because you figure you are as good as dead anyway.  Commonplace danger loses its impact.

James put it this way:  James 4: 13-15 "...you that say today or tomorrow we will go into such a city and continue there a year...whereas you don't know what shall be on the morrow.  For what is your life?  It is even a vapor that appears for a little time, and then vanishes away.  For you ought to say, If the Lord will, we shall live, and do this, or that."

We are definitely not in control.  Constant fear keeps you from doing what you need to do.  Put it all in the hands of God.  Hebrews 13: 5  "...be content...(with what you have)...for he has said, I will never leave you, nor forsake you."

Sunday, I sat down in a class room and noticed water on the table.  I asked the lady next to me if her cup was leaking.  No.  I checked my cup--not leaking.  I wiped it up and five minutes later, the table was wet again.  We checked the ceiling to see if it was leaking.  No.  So strange.  I kept wiping up the water for the next thirty minutes until we went to another room.  Same thing.  Water was dripping on my skirt.  All of us were very confused, but they said, "Move to another seat.  We checked the ceiling.  No water.  I moved and water kept dripping on me.  I was starting to get paranoid.

I decided God was trying to baptize me.  Or maybe it was like Samuel when he kept going to Eli saying, "Are you calling me?"  Well, I went to church and the same thing happened.  By then I was very agitated.  This went on all day until Becky saw water on my hand and agreed that something was going on.  Up till then I am sure she thought I was nuts.

"Well then, it has to be coming from your right arm where you have lymphodema.   "It's not my arm," I told her.  "I've checked my arm.  There's nothing there.  But she wanted to check so we did, and sure enough, underneath, in a teeny-tiny hole, water was leaking out drop by drop.  It was in a place that I couldn't see, but she could.

I went to the internist the next day,  and he said, "I've been practicing thirty-seven years and have never seen anything like that," he said.  "I don't want the arm to get infected from an open wound," I told him.  I was hospitalized last year five times with this arm and don't want a repeat."

He assured me it would heal up.  It's been twenty-four more hours and this tiny pin hole under my wrist is still dripping water like a faucet.   This is the strangest thing.  I can't help but think about the scripture that says: 1 John 5:6 "This is he that came by water and blood, even Jesus Christ; not by water only, but by water and blood.  And it is the Spirit but bears witness, because the Spirit is truth." It has absolutely no connection, but it keeps coming to my mind.   This is a strange way to lose weight.

I finally have a TV.  The guy who installed it broke my cable, said he would be back--and left forever.  Two technicians later it is finally running.  Not that there is anything to watch.  Except Blue Bloods.

I am hooked on Blue Bloods.  But I think I have watched all the episodes.  I like the fact that at the end of the day, everybody sits down at the family dining table to eat--and share the events of the day.  That is how Ken and I lived our lives.  It it comforting to know that somewhere, some family is still eating at the same table instead of out of a fast-food bag.

So.  I work outside in this awful heat for about twenty minutes.  Then I come in and cool off for an hour.  Little by little, step by step, the yard is coming under control.  I just have to keep at it and not give up.   I haven't worked this hard in years and years.  I have pulled or dug out hundreds of elm seedlings that are at least three years old.  Their roots go down a foot.  I am at one hundred and counting.

Everyone that passes by asks me why I don't hire this done.  I wouldn't think of it.  Only when I find something I am not strong enough to do.  Then I call in the big guns.

While I was in Pryor, I went to the church and got my marimba.  I wonder if I will ever play it again. You have to be asked, and no one here knows that I play.  They might not like it anyway.

Psalms 98:4-6 "Make a joyful noise unto the Lord, all the earth: make a loud noise, and rejoice, and sing praise.  Sing unto the Lord with the harp; with the harp, (and the marimba) and the voice of a psalm.  With trumpets and sound of cornet make a joyful noise before the Lord, the King."

It doesn't say you have to be any good.  Just sing.  Play.  Participate.  Rejoice.  The church that I joined has an unusual music leader.  Miss America from three or four years ago.  Beautiful voice.

Becky and I went to Claremore to visit a ninety three yr. old woman that worked for us for over fifty five years.  She is in a nursing home there--and doing well.  I probably won't see her again.  She was a second mother to my children all the years I was incapacitated with my heart thing.  She was part of our family.  Like I said yesterday, you can't go back.

While we were there, we went to Dot's for a hamburger.  It has been in business since 1955--I think.  Maybe 1956.  It is a hole in the wall on main street and if you haven't eaten there, you've missed a real treat.  They peel and cut their own french fries.  They make their own hamburger patties by hand.  It takes me back to the fifties every time I go there.  I graduated high school in 1956.

The walls are covered with dozens and dozens of quips.  I wrote some down.

Today's menu:  Take it, or leave it.

Unattended children will be given a can of Red Bull and a free puppy.

In God we Trust.  All others pay cash.

We extend credit to anyone 80 or older accompanied by a parent.

I pretend to work here.  They pretend to pay me.

We charge an extra ten dollars if we have to put up with you when you're grouchy.

The list went on and on.  You couldn't help but chuckle.  The book of Proverbs is like that.  I've always called it the book of "buts".  One example:  Pro. 12: 4 "A virtuous woman is a crown to her husband: but she that makes him ashamed is as rottenness in his bones."  Pretty descriptive.

Well, I don't think we will be having huckleberry pie.

My mom was the pie maker.  I never learned how to make flakey crust.  But Becky perfected the art and every Thanksgiving since my mom died, she makes the pies.

When she read my blog about the $90.00 gallon of huckleberries, she put her foot down.  "No.  I won't take a chance on making a crust for that expensive a pie.  I'm not going to make a ninety dollar huckleberry pie and take a chance on messing up the crust.  So you can forget it.  What were you and Pat thinking!!"

I guess that is that.  No huckleberry pie.

Becky drove me to Pryor yesterday.   I went by the house there and could have just wept.  All my beautiful gardening efforts have gone to weeds.

Weeds are like sin.  You have to get a hold on it early and uproot them or they take over your life.  I will have to hire someone to go clean up the flower beds.

One interesting thing, and that is:  You can't go back.  Life is a river.  Always flowing in one direction.  Once done, that part of your life is done.  I won't be moving back to Pryor.  I live in Edmond now.  And it's good.  I am really happy here.  It comes as a shock.  I thought it would be harder than this to readjust.  But no.  It's been really easy.  Praise God.  He has been so good to me.

1 John 3:1-2  "Behold, what manner of love the Father has bestowed upon us, that we should be called the sons of God...Beloved, now we are the sons of  God, and it does not yet appear what we shall be: but we know that, when he shall appear, we shall be like him; for we shall see him as he is."

Genesis 1:26 "And God said, Let us make man in our image, after our likeness..."  I have no idea what the image of God looks like.  But John said we shall be like him.  God himself even said we will be like him.  From God's mouth to your ear.

Genesis 1:27 "So God created man in his own image, in the image of God created he him; male and female created he them."

What in the world is that going to look like?   What are we going to look like.  He says that we will have new bodies.  I am sure we are going to know each other.

Pat just called to tell me that she has found a company in Montana that will ship you a gallon of huckleberries for $90.00.  She is seriously contemplating ordering a gallon.  They only grow in certain elevations.  They take 13 years to start to bear.  And they have to be picked by hand.  The only other thing I can think of that we would ever consider eating that would be that pricey would be morel mushrooms--which only pop up for a week each year.  Huckleberries are better than mushrooms.  And we can get morels on Pat's back acreage.

The question is, are we crazy enough to buy a gallon of huckleberries for $90.00?  We talked about it and decided that if we did it, we wouldn't be able to bring ourselves to share the pie with anyone.  So that leaves us both feeling guilty.

I'm going to think about this.  Ninety dollars is a lot of money.  I could be a good Christian and give it to the poor.  But.  But.  Surely there is another way to be a good Christian, and eat the berries myself?

In the tiny epistle of 1 John, he talks about love in the fourth chapter.  John always referred to himself as the disciple that Jesus loved.  You can tell by the way he writes about his relationship with Jesus just how much it meant to him that Jesus loved him.  (I know how it makes me feel, don't you?)

1 John 4:7-8, 10 "Beloved, let us love one another: for love is of God; and every one that loves is born of God, and knows God.  He that doesn't love others does not know God; for God is love.   Herein is love, not that we loved God, but that he loved us, and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins."  He loved us first.

The discussion on Sunday came from these verses.  The teacher commented that there are three types of love discussed in the Bible.  He said that in the old testament, God's love was nearly always reserved for the Israelites.  But in the new testament, God's love was expressed to the entire world through the death of his Son.

1.  Eros:  Physical love

2. Philo:   Love for our fellow man:    John 15:12  "By this shall all men know that you are my disciples, if you have love one to another.  John 15: 12  "This is my commandment, that you love one another, as I have loved you."

3. Agapino--I couldn't find the correct spelling of this word: It means loving as God loves.  Jeremiah 31:3  "The Lord has appeared of old unto me, saying, Yea, I have loved you with an everlasting love: Therefore with lovingkindness have I drawn you."   His Holy Spirit tugs at our hearts.

I doubt I will ever be able to love as God loves.  The best I seem to be able to do is to express love by my actions.  There is always someone in need of food, a visit, or a listening ear.

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Pat and I spent seven hours in the car on Thursday when she took me to the hospital.  We got busy talking about the last week of Ken's life, and I was reminded of a story that I hadn't ever told her.

A couple of months after we were married, we went to the Marine Corps ball.  There was an officer there that Ken particularly disliked. (Ken liked everyone so that tells you what a jerk this man was.) Well, I love to dance and asked Ken to dance with me.  We had never danced with each other before.

I like the feel of beat with rhythm.  I love those exercise videos set to music.  However, being the good little Baptist preacher's son--which he wasn't--he had never really got into dance as being fun when he was growing up.  "I don't dance very well," he said.  "That's okay, I do," I told him.  It was our first and last dance ever--because this man that Ken detested cut in.

"I'll never be put in that position again," Ken told me.  "I'm not dancing any more and taking a chance that I will have to give you up to some jerk." And he never did dance with me again.

Fast forward fifty-seven years.  Ken had deteriorated to the point that he had to be lifted to make it to a walker.  He was too heavy for me, but Pat found a way to get him from his chair to the walker.  She would put her hands under his arms and say, "Let's dance, Daddy.  Just let me put my arms around you and lift you up and we will dance in a circle and back you up to your walker.  All you have to do is shuffle."  And he did.  He danced.  And he smiled.

I wish it had been with me.  But better for him to dance with Pat than not at all.

Ecclesiastes 3:1,4 "To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven...A time to weep and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance..."  The time was finally right for Ken to dance.  And he did.

Yesterday I went on an adventure to the last place at the end of nowhere.  Euchie, Oklahoma.  When Pat and I left the hospital, she really wanted to go to Jay, Okla. to the huckleberry festival and get a gallon or two for Thanksgiving cobbler.  She was thinking way ahead.  If you have never tasted huckleberries, you have missed a treat.  But they are very hard to come by.  I wasn't in any pain, so off we went.  She drove.  I rode.

I remember one time Ken and my dad drove to Jay to try and round some up.  "How many shall we get?" my dad asked.  "As many as you can," my mom replied.  Two gallons were the most we had ever found to buy, but that year the bushes exploded with berries and they brought back 16 gallons.  Mom and I were in shock.  "What in the world are we going to do with so many huckleberries," she asked.  Problem solved.  We made huckleberry jam and froze the rest, after we made a cobbler.

Huckleberry pie is my favorite.

Well, there were no berries in Jay this year.  Not a pint. Too much rain.  So they sent us to Euchie.  The backside of nowhere.  Five houses and a tent.  They didn't have any either.

But we had the satisfaction of knowing we had given it our best shot.  Maybe next year.

Matthew 7:7 "Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and you shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you."

John 16:23 "...Verily, verily, I say unto you, Whatsoever you shall ask the Father in my name, he will give it to you."

Next year we will pray first.

I have an extremely high threshold of pain.  I can take a lot.  When I went to the military hospital at Pendleton for my first of my five deliveries,  (I was barely 19) the nurse gave me a call button and said to press it when I couldn't stand the pain and she would give me something.  I never did press it because I didn't know when I couldn't take anymore.  She just  happened to check me after a few hours, ran for the door, yelled for the doctor and it was all over in five minutes.  No anesthetic.

In a military ward at that time, there were a number of women in labor--all in one room.  Groaning, yelling, crying, etc.  I for sure wasn't going to be one of that crowd.  I'm pretty tough.

I say all that to say this.  Old people talk about their ailments because they have so many that they are overwhelmed.  Everything is broken, or it hurts.  I have put up with hip pain for years--as it got worse.  But with all the bending and stooping and falling, etc. trying to work in this yard,  the pain had  passed my pain threshold.  So I went to the hospital and had them injected today.  Amazing.  Should have done it years ago.  But I never know when I have reached the point that I can't stand it--until it is too late.  I don't know why I think that I have to wait until I can't stand it.  That part is a puzzle.   I have passed that trait to both my daughters and they both have had horrible emergencies that almost killed them because they didn't know how much pain was enough before you did something about it.  When they hurt themselves as children I would say, "It's just blood.  Get a bandaid."  Ken would say, "It's far from your heart.  You aren't going to die."

In Revelations there is a promise: 21:2-4 "...I, John saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down from God out of heaven...and I heard a great voice...saying, behold the tabernacle of God is with men, and he will dwell with them and they shall be his people, and God himself shall be with them and (he will) be their God.  And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.  Sounds great to me.  Not a bad place to end up.  (Look for me in the garden.)

Today, my cousin Ann came over and said she had had a spiritual epiphany.  When she went to church on Sunday, there was a discussion about what the class could do that would be a help to the members of the church.  They asked if they knew anyone that needed help.  A really old woman said, "I need someone to help me with my garden.  Maybe someone here would like to help me."

Ann thought, "I can do garden work.  I like to do garden work."   And then she told me that the thought occurred to her that she had an older person in her own family that needed help in the garden.  Me.  So today she came over and worked.  She planted shrubs.  Flowers.  Moved rocks.  She did everything that I had planned to do this week in just a few hours.

I have been amazed at how wonderful my family have been.  Everyone has jumped in to help.  I am getting there.  All the big things are in place.  Lisa and Tom and Becky hung pictures and mirrors. Pat brought boxes in and opened them.  Craig hung the chandeliers.  Lisa put the dust ruffles under the mattresses and made the beds.  Now the only thing left to do is stuff I don't want to do.  Sorting through a million pieces of my life.

They are going to get a blessing.  Paul wrote a blessing to the Thessalonians in 2:16-17 "Now our Lord Jesus Christ himself, and God, even our Father, which has loved us and has given us everlasting consolation and good hope through grace, comfort your hearts and establish you in every good word and work."

My people have been good workers.  God bless them.

It was inevitable that I would fall.  You can't climb over huge rock formations and pull out weeds that have been rooted between them for years without taking a tumble.  I had hold of some vines that wouldn't give, and I was yanking and yanking without success, when they suddenly gave way and I went tumbling backwards.  My daughters don't want me doing any of this for fear that I will break something, but it is such a joy to me.  If I break, well, I break.  I'm not going to quit living and doing the one thing that brings me such pleasure.

Psalms 37:24-25 "Though he falls, he shall not be utterly cast down: for the Lord upholds him with his hand.  I have been young, and now I am old;  Yet I have not seen the righteous forsaken, nor his offspring begging for bread."

Someone had spent a fortune on the landscaping in this backyard, and then let it go for years without attention.  It is a jungle.  But little by little it is giving way into my will.  The area that I have been working on was so covered with Vinca Major that you couldn't even see the stone formations behind it all.  I do not like Vinca.  It grows rampant and takes over if you don't keep it in check.   So I have almost conquered it.  The shrubs behind all of that were so overgrown that critters were living in the brush.  I have trimmed them all,  and it looks good.

I have washed all the stones.  They look great.  The Koi pond has been cleaned and has a new filter and motor casing.  The four fish seem to be agreeable.  I don't particularly like fish, but figure if I give them names, that they will be more agreeable to me.  I named a small solid white one "Angel."  And a bright orange one Flipper--because every time I feed them he races to the surface and flips all the pellets around with his tail.  He makes such a mess that the others can't get to the pellets.

I'm happy here.