If My people, who are called by My name will humble themselves, and pray and seek My face, and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin and heal their land.  2 Chronicles 7:14

Did you ever wonder why your prayers seem to hit the ceiling and go no further.  Did you ever wonder why you feel distant from God.  Did you ever wonder why things didn't seen to be going very well in your life.  There's a reason, and conditions for changing the way you feel about things.  Not that feelings are what we base our salvation on--but you know what I'm talking about.  Things just aren't right in your life and you know it and wonder what to do.  Well, the scripture I gave at the beginning is packed with information.

1.  It is written to a specific group--God's people.  Us. He calls us "My people."
2.  You openly confess to the world that you are called by His name.  Christian.  Publicize it.
3.  You must humble yourself and fess up to the truth.  Whatever it is, you did it.  Repent openly.
4.  Say so to God.  That's what prayer is.  Conversing with God.  Pray.
5.  Seek His truth, His face.  Ask Him what he wants.  Ask Him to forgive you.  For "whatever."
6.  Stop doing what you are doing.  Sin is a word for anything in your life that you know you
     shouldn't be doing.  Disobedience.  He either directs your paths, or he doesn't.  Turn.  Repent.

Those are the conditions.  Then God gives the results of those conditions.

1.  He will hear you.
2.  He lives in a high and holy place far above and beyond us.  Heaven.
3.  He will forgive your sin.
4.  He will heal our land--our country, our nation, our homes, our lives.

There you have it.  How to get back to where you started from.  Back to the place where you began your Christian journey:  Humbled, publicly seeking God and accepting His terms in Christ, praying for forgiveness, seeking God's will, turning from sin.  It's a journey.  Paul calls it "Working out your own salvation with fear and trembling." We serve an awesome God.  He wants to hear us.

Went back to Lowes.  All shrubs were one half price so what's a girl to do.  Six more, and I am still not done--buying shrubs.  As soon as I rest up, I'll go get more.  God's blessing was:  My lawn crew came to mow and planted almost everything and moved 48 blocks to the back yard for me.  I said I wasn't going to do anything in the back yard, but it is like a blank canvas--irresistible.  I'm going to paint a beautiful picture just outside my back window.  And now I have a row of planter's blocks lined up three feet from the back of the house.  I need roundup to kill the grass and then I dig.

I can't help myself.

Everyone has been texting: "Where is today's post."  Well, I got up late, went to Dean's Bible study on Isaiah, went to get a new windshield in the 1999 Town Car--which I seldom drive, but it was leaking and I want it dry--of courts.  Dean followed me, and just as he took me back to the house, Pat was sitting in my driveway with a trailer and horse.  She wanted lunch.  Lunch was by Lowes, and when I got back home, I started planting.  It was one of those "One thing leads to another" kinda days.  So it's two in the afternoon, and some of you will have given up on me.  Sorry.  I'll do better from now on.  I'll set my alarm for six in the morning so that I don't come up short on time again.

I knew that Isaiah  was the most important book in the Old Testament.  But It's hard to read so I usually go back to the New Testament.  However, I have a number of verses in green that I have memorized from Isaiah.  Problem is you have to wade through so much to get to them.  We are in the 5th chapter where there are 6 "Woes" and it's pretty depressing.  I think that it was the 4th "Woe" that said that the people had made good look bad, and bad look good.

I couldn't help but think of America today where the buzz word is "Tolerance."  Everything that I was raised in the 40's and 50's to believe was wrong, the media now says that I am now supposed to "tolerate." But I don't, which means I get branded as Intolerant.  Which seems to be the worst thing a person can possibly be.  Intolerant.  I'm guilty.  And I am going to be Intolerant until I kick the bucket.  America is in exactly the same mode of thinking Israel was when God brought 6 "Woes" on them.  I hope I'm not here to see it.  It won't be pretty.

Well, I just reread what I wrote yesterday.  Heavy.  Confusing.  But what I "got" was that God put the Spirit into Adam--but Jesus put the Spirit into us.  I'll try not to mess with Scriptural fine points today.

I went to Lowes this morning to return something, and while I was there, the garden manager marked  all of the plants and shrubs half off.  What was I to do???  After planting nine shrubs this morning, and fertilizing, and mulching, I can honestly say, "What was I thinking?"  I hurt all over.  But the front yard is looking spectacular.  One plant at a time, it is coming into shape.  One more day of digging and planting and I'm done till spring.

Becky Bacon brought one of those nerve-stimulator thingamajigs to try on me, and hooked my spine up.  Eureka!  No pain for hours.  So we ordered me one.  I think the thing is Voo-doo and Black Magic, but mine came Sunday and as soon as I can figure out which electrode goes where, I'm going to use it.  From now on.  It feels like acupuncture.  Lots of little needles but not really painful.  And it works.  (My Brother has one permanently in his spine.  He can't be repaired with surgery.  He has lived in pain for years from when the doors of the underground train closed on his leg and pulled him down the platform.  He grabbed a pole, and tore his leg ligaments and tendons loose.)

Does that mean I don't have to have back surgery.  No.  But it could be months before the Spine guy can even see me, much less agree to the surgery.  (So I'm using the Voodoo and Black Magic nerve stimulator in the meanwhile. )  The surgeon wants to see my medical records--and with all the weird things that I've had done, he may refuse my case for fear of killing me?  I hope he takes me on.  I think he is mostly worried that I don't have any heartbeats (at all) and am on my third pacemaker.  No problem.  Hook me up to a backup battery.  I'll do my part and follow directions.

My brother started asking questions about a zillion surgeries I have had and where the records were.  I have no idea.  I've outlived my doctors.  And shredded my copies of my records.  I don't keep stuff like that.  It's depressing.  It is what it is.  I am what I am--flesh and metal.   But I am anxious about getting the Spine guy to fix my back.

I don't expect to be twenty five again, I just want to be able to bend over and putter in my garden.

We are studying Galatians on Sunday morning.  Something new comes to me every time I read the Bible.  This time it was about the "Breath."  I have always said that the Breath was breathed into us by God.  But, that's not exactly what the Bible says.  God breathed his breath into Adam.  The new testament says that now, the Breath comes into us by Jesus.

Rome had conquered Israel, and Rome was in the business of building roads to the countries that came under her rule.  One reason the gospel was spread was because travel was now possible.   And that enabled Paul to travel to dozens of towns spreading the Gospel to the Gentiles.  Without roads it would have been almost impossible.  We have Paul to thank for getting the message to Italy, Greece, and other countries, from which it spread over Europe, and finally to us.  We can thank the Romans for building the roads enabling "...when the fullness of time was come..."

 The Scripture we read (where I learned a new idea) was Galatians 4:4-6  "But when the fullness of time was come, God sent forth his Son, made of a woman, made under the law, to redeem them that were under the law, that we might receive the adoption of sons.  And because we are God's sons, he has sent forth the Spirit of his Son into your hearts, crying, Abba, Father."  Paul was explaining to the Gentiles that they were included by adoption.  Children who are adopted can't lose their heritage.  They are forever in the family that adopted them.  You can't un-adopt.

And there it is:  "...the Spirit of his Son into your hearts..."  I have always thought of God being the Holy Spirit.  But this scripture says it is Jesus.  Yes I know.  Jesus is God is the Holy Spirit, but I had always thought that God breathed the Holy Spirit into us.  This is all convoluted.  But you become an heir when Jesus breaths, gives, his Spirit to you.  I have always known that the Spirit lives in you, but I thought it was God breathing the Spirit into us just like he did into Adam.  But no, when Adam sinned, he lost the Breath.  Then in the "fullness of time"God put His breath back into man through Jesus.  Jesus is our Breath.  It's okay if you don't understand anything I have written.  Maybe this  fine point was just for me anyway and you got it years ago.  One way or another, the Holy Spirit that God breathed into Adam, is now returned to us through faith in Jesus Christ. "Christ in you, the hope of glory."  God planned all along to put his breath back into us.   God planned it; Jesus did it.  Jesus died and rose from the dead putting the Spirit into those who by faith believe.

It is interesting how things work in God's kingdom.  If you are a faithful person to attend church, you make friends that become like family.  We call the classes at our church "Connection Groups."  And encourage every visitor to join one.  The class I teach has "jelled" into a support group--which is the point.  We are to love and support each other.  Bear each other's burdens.  If you don't have a church home, find one.  You are going to need that kind of support some day.  And of course, you need Christ in your life.

It is a beautiful thing to watch this happen within a group of women.  First one, then another, finds someone within the group with whom they have something in common.  They become friends.  Going to lunch, helping with a project.  Then, they expand to include someone else, and eventually the entire group is on board.

Our parties are wonderful.  Saturday we packed boxes for "Samaritan's Purse." (And ate pot luck which was fabulous.)  Each box was stuffed with fun things for some child in a third world country.  Children who have nothing.  The boxes were for a specific age group.  I chose boys--six years old to nine.  I understand that age.

Everyone bought, and brought, things to put in the boxes and they all dumped what they had onto the middle of a table (at Jeanette's house).  There were pencils, pencil sharpeners, jump ropes, hot wheels, Kleenex, toothbrushes, hair brushes, barrettes, Crayons, coloring books, Star Wars fold up bags, etc, etc, etc.  For a child who has nothing, these were treasures beyond their imagination.  And included was the story of Jesus.  Everything given as a love gift in His name.  When we finished, we prayed over the boxes for the children who would someday receive them.  We prayed that our gifts would serve their intended purpose--to lead a child to know the love of God.

I had done Samaritan's Purse before, and it was difficult for me.  But this time, the way one of our members--Norma--had organized how we did it was wonderful.  I think what I liked the best was that everyone combined what they brought into the middle of the table, and we shared it all.  Everyone picking what fit their child's age to pack.  And when we prayed for the children, I was touched that something we had done might change a life.  That some child might come to know Jesus.

Becky Bacon is here.  We went garage sailing with my cousin Ann and had a blast.  We--my connection group at church--are packing those shoe boxes (Samaritan's purse) to send overseas tomorrow and found lots of things that were small and new at the sales that will be wonderful to include.  Becky is going to stay another night so that she can go help.   And eat.  Of course we will eat.  That's the highlight of all our parties.


I was so excited about Becky Bacon being here that I forgot to post this morning.  Jeanette sent me a text to remind me.

Becky and I and Jeaninne from across the street moved the three oak bookcases into line with each other.  They were so heavy that we had to sit on the floor and push the bottom of the cases with our feet.  But it is done.  Which means that next week I can unpack the books.  That's the only major thing I have yet to unpack.

I'll write something on Monday.  Today and tomorrow I'm going to play.

I worked the store yesterday.  Nobody came in to buy anything so I just read magazines.  The store owner, next to the antique store where I was working, said he had no customers either--and that everyone had gone to the fair.  He said that it happens every year during the State Fair.

I went to the fair a couple of times when I was a kid.  It didn't take.  I'm not much of a fun person the way everyone else describes fun.  I'm way to serious.  I don't seem to be interested in things that everyone else is interested in.  My daughter-in-law Stacy says I am a "sociable loner."  I love to be around people, groups, for a little while, then I want to go home.  (I can be fun in short doses?)

We took our kids to Six Flags once.  I didn't ride anything but the boats.  I got wet--which I didn't think was fun, but everyone else did.  They took me up on the Texas Tower, which had an open platform on top.  Bad decision.  Ken had to hold on to me to get me back down.  I thought it was going to suck me over the edge.  I did the same thing at the Grand Canyon.

But the worst "Suck me over the edge" moment I ever had was when I climbed the Leaning Tower of Pisa.  There is a winding staircase going up which is very narrow. Once up, you have to go all the way around to the other side of the platform to get to the stairs that go down.  And of course, the platform is open to the air and leans (drastically)  to one side. Becky and everyone else went ahead of me and when I got to the top, they were all at the rail, having "fun."  I had no idea it would be an open platform on top or I would never have climbed up there.  It started sucking me over the edge.

When I got to the top of the stairwell and realized that I couldn't "back up" and go down the way I got up there, I climbed out on my knees and crawled around to the other side where the staircase went down--with everyone up there staring at me. I didn't care.  Terrifying.  Every inch I crawled, I was praying not to fall over the edge.  If you are one of those--who like me--is unable to walk a straight line when you are on a high platform--and are drawn, sucked, toward the edge, you understand what I am saying.  Others won't.  Don't climb to the top of the Leaning Tower of Pisa.  It leans.  It really leans.  I've had people tell me that a fear of heights is all in my head, and that I should get over it.  I want to smack them in the nose.   I guess thinking that is a sin--so I might as well go ahead and punch them and take my licks.  Than probably isn't he way God intended interpretation of that Scripture???

I took my car in to be serviced.  Pat and I are driving to New Orleans next month to see a friend I haven't seen since 1963.  We are going to eat every crab, shrimp, and oyster we see.  I have reached my goal weight just in time to eat all fried things I come in contact with.  We will be gone five days, and if I gain a pound a day, I can repent when I get back home and take it off.  I can do it.

They washed my car.  Vacuumed it.  Replaced a light in the rear.  The total bill was $6.50!!  Six dollars and fifty cents.  They said the inspection was free and there was absolutely nothing wrong with the car.  Amazing.  I'll be taking my other car in soon.  They've got my business for life.

My brother Bill, (physician) has fixed me up with a neurologist, or neurosurgeon,  or some such neuro-something to decide what to do about my back.  One way or another they are going to do surgery.  I think it's a bummer.  But my choices have run out.  Surgery or pain meds--which aren't an option for me.  Once you take that route, you have to take more and more higher dosages to kill pain.    I'm not going there.  So: I'll probably grit my teeth and do surgery when I get back from the trip to New Orleans.  We have to (are forced into a corner) do some things that we don't want to do.

My yard man came yesterday--finally.  He cleaned out one of the flowerbeds that was overgrown with tree seedlings--the five foot high kind--that had been allowed to grow unrestrained.  It sure looks different.  He mulched it.  I'll see that no trees or weeds get a foothold in the future.  I'm going to have to get me one of those sit on, roll around kind of garden stools.  It would be nice if I could find a motorized one--if such a thing exists.

He was supposed to come Monday, but never made it.  He is going to cut down a tree today.  It's small, so it shouldn't take him long.

I'm working at the antique store today.  I will not, will not, will not bring anything home with me.  I can't get another doodaddie, kinda thingy in my house.  The only things that aren't going out the door of my house to Goodwill, are things that have a memory.  

Austyn is over the hump--as Ken used to say.  He is up, regaining his strength, and on the mend.  Praise God.  The family thanks all of you for your prayers.

Becky Bacon is surely going to come this week.  Surely.  I am hanging pictures like crazy.  She can help me decide where the leftover pictures go.  I can see light at the end of the tunnel.

Friday, I killed another black widow spider.  That's four in one week.  She was hanging on the pull tab on my mail box.  It's a good thing I looked before I pulled the latch.  She had been living in the blocks around the bottom of the mail box, and when I moved the blocks, she started climbing up the bricks, looking for a new home.   She found one.  In spider heaven--wherever that is.

I never kill spiders in general.  Just black-widow ones who invade my territory.  You seldom see a fiddle-back, they hide really well.  Leave all the others alone.  They eat bugs.  That's their job.

The fellow who mows my lawn is coming to cut down a tree.  The tree is dying  and needs a little help getting there.  My next door neighbor wants the wood.  I never use wood in a fireplace.  It's too messy.  It puts ash-dust all over the house no matter how tight the fireplace doors are.  I had a wood burning fireplace put into a house I built back in 1973.  Never again.

My family room is finished.  Pictures, doo-dads, TV, furniture and lamps are all in place.  It is wonderful to sit in my chair, look around the room, and not be able to find anything that needs to be done.  (Unless I look down on the floor beside my chair where I have piled paper to go through.   I am drowning in paper from the last two months. )

 I failed to record a single check I wrote.  However, I learned years ago that I needed a carbon copy check book.  All I have to do is balance it.  Which I absolutely hate to do.  I am a mathematician, not an accountant.   I don't even trust myself to add.  Addition and subtraction are the reason God made calculators.

Pray for the families in the Carolinas.  My cousin is an EMT there and it is devastating.

I went to a meeting Sunday evening concerning "going to visit" those who have come to our church sometime in the past. We listened to the "How To" instructions, then three of the people at our table left to go visit and Jeanette and I prayed for them, and for the people they were going to visit.  I don't ever seem to "get" someone else's method of doing this.  "How To" might work for them, but their "how to" isn't my "how to. " If it isn't conversational, it is forced and doesn't work very well for me.

I generally just ask someone if they are "A Christian Person."  By adding the word "Person," it makes the question softer, so they don't feel threatened--like when those people come to your door and start in on you with their "How To" method.  It seems forced, and you feel obligated to listen to them.

Last week a service person came to my house, and after a bit, I asked him if he was a "Christian kind of person."  He said he used to be, but he didn't go to church any more so he guessed he wasn't a Christian any more.  I told him that I didn't believe you had to go to church to be a Christian.  But as a father (He had seven children) he would be held responsible for training them about the Bible--and that the church was a wonderful place for them to learn.  I shared that my church friends encouraged me.  That church was a place to find Christian friends.  Then I asked him why he quit going.

He said that he had not been included at the church he attended, and because he was Mexican, he was treated with hypocrisy.  We discussed that for awhile.  About hypocrites.  Both in and out of the church.  They are everywhere.  Hypocrites, bigots, and racists.

I have no idea what all I said, but he sat on my couch for an hour and discussed Jesus, God, the Bible, the church, and a million other things.  It was a natural thing for me to do, because that is what God has told us to do.  You can't memorize a "How to" method for doing this, because after you ask your first question--whatever it is--the conversation evolves, or doesn't, from there.  We are simply to care enough about people to ask.  And to share what God has done in our life.  And what He can do in their life.  The man thanked me, left, and a few minutes later he texted me and said, "Thank you for talking to me.  I'm going to take my family to church next Sunday."  God puts people in your path.  Be bold in the Lord.  Ask!!  What do you have to lose?  But Oh, what a wonderful thing they have to gain--friends at church, or even Christ himself.

Austyn is sitting up eating pizza.  All smiles.  Miraculous.

Jeanette came over this afternoon and helped me hang a wall shelf.  Now that it is up I can get nine or ten doo-dads off the dining room table and load the shelf up.  I'm moving in the right direction.  I tell my friends that if they come see me, I'm going to put them to work.  When it is all over, I'm going to cook roast, mashed potatoes and carrots for the neighborhood.  They've earned it.

Joe Mike sold his airplane.  I hope he is done with flying.  He is over 75.  I doubt he will listen to any of us.  He and Becky flew the plane down to Sherman, Texas today--probably for a last hurrah before it is gone.  After 30 years of flying with him, I bet Becky could get her pilot's license on the back stroke with her eyes closed.

Sam and Tiffany are going to have another little girl by this time next week.  The 19th.  Yesterday was Sam's birthday.

My next door neighbor just brought me lunch and peanut butter cookies.  Just because.

I started attending a Bible study Thursday morning on Isaiah.  The preacher across the street was teaching it.  I learned things that I didn't even know I didn't know.  My Bible looks like an Oklahoma road map--because I've written all over it.  Margins, between the lines, top and bottom.  I added a dozen or so new notes.  My head was hurting by the time the hour was over.  It's always wonderful to hear someone talk about a subject they have researched and are totally familiar with--and can speak about with confidence.

Some of you have never used a road map.  You depend on Seri.  (So do I.  But I miss the old maps.  I always had a dozen or so in the car pocket--for when I took off across country.)

As you can tell, I didn't have much of anything to say today.  But it sure didn't keep me from trying.

Austyn's temperature is gone.  He spent today praying for every medical helicopter that landed at the hospital he is in.  He knows what they are going through.  Sounds like he is improving.  He is concerned with the condition of others!!  They are still having trouble standing him up.  He's still in a lot of pain.  His parents said to thank all of you so much for praying for him.  They said that it means more than all of you can possibly imagine.

I moved 27 decorative concrete blocks yesterday.  Done.  I had to level all the bottom ones with dirt before I could place another one on top. I only smashed one finger.  It is purple, but not cut.

The guys next door and across the street just couldn't stand watching me work--so they came over and dug up roots, cut up limbs and generally helped me get finished with what I was doing.  My neighbors are awesome.  One of their wives told me that she heard two of them talking.  They called me a hard-working go-getter.  I've been called worse.

Tomorrow I am going to plant the spider lily bulbs that I brought over in pots.  There are thirty of them, but they are very small bulbs.  I can do it with a spoon.  Two of them are up and blooming.  There aren't many things that bloom in September.  They are gorgeous.

I saw my General Physician today.  She explains things better than the specialists.  Basically, what she said was that I need back surgery.  I've exhausted all my other options.  I knew that already--and I'm not ready to go there.  Ken always said, "Pain is just weakness leaving the body."  I watched my brother suffer with his back for years and years--and he's a doctor.  I'm at least as tough as he is.  And pain won't kill you.  I've always been fairly pain tolerant.  It is a matter of mind over matter.

I'll probably do it eventually, however.  It will become inevitable if I want to walk.  I just have to think about it for awhile.  I'm tired of people cutting on me.  I set off every alarm in the airport when I go through security.

I am amazed that God has let me live as long as I have.  I bless His holy name.  As long as I can take care of myself and keep digging in the dirt, I'm blessed.  So far, I've been able to do that.

Pray for Austyn.  He is so weak and has started to run a temp.  The family is asking everyone to pray.

Yesterday, I said all I needed was a chain and a pickup.  Today, a neighbor saw me digging and planting stuff and came to watch.  He asked what I was going to do with the five oversized eight foot hollies.   I explained my plan to remove them as soon as I found someone with a chain and a pickup, and he said, "I'll go get my pickup and chains.  Within 30 minutes, all of the shrubs were pulled up.  Another neighbor who came to watch said, "Leave them on the street and I'll get my chain saw tomorrow morning and cut them up into small pieces and we can get them in the our trash bins."

God is so good.  Every time I have a problem, He sends angels.  Who would think that someone I didn't know would come along with a chain and a pickup!  I'll get a rake tomorrow and level everything out.  I got a dolly and moved 36 landscaping blocks that were around the mailbox.  They were in terrible disarray.  I'm half way through.  I'll finish them tomorrow.

I was careful, because black widow spiders love the gaps between the blocks where it is damp.  They weave their spasmodic shapeless webs.  I killed three, and smashed their egg sacs.  That means fewer of them next year.  They thought they were hidden between the blocks, but I dispatched them.   I have always been interested in bugs, spiders, snakes, etc.  People think I am weird that way. But I am fascinated by them.  Someone has to do it!!!  I don't like to kill snakes or spiders that are the good guys.  Some people think all such animals are evil.  But that's not true.  I have a frog on the north side of the house.  He seems to be happy there--eating bugs.

As a matter of fact, the job God gave us in the beginning was: "And God said, Let us make man in our image, after our likeness.  And let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth." Genesis 1:26.  Fish, fowl, cattle, and creeping things.

I'm just doing what God told us to do.  Protecting the good critters and dispatching the bad ones.
And we are also responsible for the sea, the air, animals, and soil.  Read it again.  We aren't doing very well with those things.  We've polluted almost everything.  Sad.

Me, myself and I, planted 43 plants yesterday.  The front flowerbeds are starting to look like there might be some possibilities underneath the weeds and tree seedlings.  It is not a blank slate, there are shrubs--but they are so overgrown that they will have to be removed.  It's going to take a chain and a pickup to pull them up.  The only thing I will have to do is find someone with a chain and a pickup.

The aftermath of planting 43 plants yesterday, is that I am very, very sore.  But it was worth it.  I feel rejuvenated after all the inside stuff I have been doing.  And I am a long, long way from being finished inside.  But getting my hands in the dirt was wonderful.  I am inspired.  I am formulating a plan for how it is going to look when I am finished.  It will be beautiful.

One nice thing.  Since I only moved across the street, I can look out my window and see the beautiful flowers and plants that I put in over there.  It is a lovely view, so I didn't lose everything.  I still get to look at everything I did for the last three years.

I am headed to the nursery this morning to see what plants they have that will survive if I plant them this late in the year.

God did a good job inventing so many different flowers, shrubs and trees.  When I go the the nursery, it is like opening a box of crayons.  Which color shall I use?

The spider lily bulbs that I put into pots before I moved are popping up and blooming.  Yea.

For all of you non-gardeners out there, it's okay.  You don't have to understand my obsession with plants.  I am sure you have obsessions of your own.

Aren't you glad that God made all of us like a box of crayons.  Each one different.  Each one special.  Each one with talents and capabilities that benefit the whole.

We are God's flower garden.  Blooming where he planted us.

Tony came by last night to report on Austyn.  He is improving, but will have to stay in the hospital in New Mexico for awhile.  Tony brought Tyler back so he could go back to school.  Austyn has no brain trauma, no severed spinal nerves, and should mend with time.  The scars will always be there, but he has his life.  It could have been so much worse.  He is coherent and remembers everything.  He said his grandfather wrapped his arms around him when they went over the cliff and said, "I love you."  An amazing man.  He lost his life, but most probably saved his grandson.

This entire family has suffered a series of tragedies through all of this.  They still need our prayers, and will for some time to come.

There are two kinds of death that loved ones live through.  Expected, inevitable sickness that leads up to a moment when a loved one or friend can't go on.  Or, an unexpected, sudden loss of life with no warning.  Both leave us grieving, but when you have no preparation, no time to say goodby, no knowledge that such a death is imminent, the shock of it is horrible to endure.

Needless to say, we all will face one kind of death, or the other.  Be sure that you know where you are going every day of your life--however long, or short, it will be.  The most important decision a person will ever make is accepting Christ to come and dwell in their life.  The Apostle Paul calls it the mystery of "Christ in you, the hope of glory."

God breathed His Spirit into man when he created Adam.  He breathed into him the Breath of Life and Adam became a living soul--but Adam disobeyed.  When God removed Adam from the Garden of Eden, all persons born after that did not have the Breath of God within--you can't inherit it, and God won't abide sin.  That's the way things were until Christ died for our sin, declared us clean, and sent His Spirit to once again live within us.  That was God's plan from the beginning--to live in us.

But to receive that Spirit, you have to give him your life.  Paul said it this way, "I am crucified with Christ, nevertheless, I live.  Yet not I...Christ lives in me..." Galations 2:20  We die to the old way, and become new in His way.  No more law, just love.  We obey Him not because of fear, but because we love Him.  Our desire is to do His will.  "Holy Spirit, breath on me," is a line from an old hymn.

Annie, Becky's dog came to stay with me today while Becky was doing an estate sale and Craig went to Dallas.  I had thrown bubble wrap on the floor and left it there as I was opening and unwrapping boxes.  (No, I haven't finished unpacking.)  The door bell rang, and Annie ran to see who it was and crossed over the bubble wrap.  It began to pop.  She would look at her foot and take another step.  It was hilarious.  When she finally got across it all, she turned around and looked down on it with a superior face.  Indignant with the bubble wrap for making popping sounds when she stepped on it.

Annie is fearless.  Or stupid.  None of us can decide which.  We all agree that she is very, very funny. Squig on the other hand, is a chicken.  While Annie was exploring the house during the storm--very oblivious of the rain, Squig was cowering behind the sofa shaking.  No thunder, no lightening.  Just rain.  He is terrified of the rain.  If I leave the room, he will come out from his hiding place and follow me and hide in the room I have gone to.  I guess he thinks I will offer some protection for him, but he refuses to let me hold him.  He just runs from hidey-hole to hide-hole.  I guess he thinks that it is safer somehow if he goes to the room that I am in.

He is very attached to me.  I am very attached to him.  I wish I could comfort him when he is afraid, but nothing I do seems to help.

I thought dogs were dogs--until I got Squig.  I lived a long time not knowing that they had personalities.  I thought that they just had traits.  German Shepherds were smart, Border Collies loved to round up sheep or cattle, terriers liked to hunt moles and dig them out, etc.  But Becky's dogs, Pat's dogs, Ann's dogs, Lisa's dogs and my dog are so different.  They are individuals with personalities.

I have learned some things about dogs.  Squig won't fetch.  He will go get the toy if you throw it, but he won't bring it to you.  He found it, it's his--you can't have it.  But if I put my hand under the sheet and move my fingers he, goes nuts trying to find the mouse, or whatever it is.  He pounces, nibbles and tries to get at the thing that is under the covers.  He is a schnauzer.  They are terriers.  Fetching is beneath them.  One thing I now know--God made dogs specifically for the human race.  They complete us.  They are absolutely wonderful companions.  I would be very lonesome if I didn't have Squig.  Even if he won't protect me from the rain.  Even though he is a big chicken.  He loves me.  That's enough.

I hung three pictures today.  Jeanette helped me.  I just need somebody to hold them for me so I can see how low, or high, to put the nail.  Every time I  finish one job, my mind travels to the next one.  It's obsessive.  I just want to be done so I can get back to reading.

I had called the library before all this excitement started--with moving--and told the librarian, Kim, to hold up on the books for three or four weeks.  Which has turned into three or four months.  I was reading three to five books a week and she was sending me new ones every Monday.  I have always been at my happiest when I am reading.

I remember lying in my bed, when I was a young girl, with my head propped on a pillow in an open window, reading one Nancy Drew after another.  It all started with the Bobbsey Twins.  When I finished those, it was Nancy Drew.  As my horizon broadened, I began to read James Mitchner's books, Jane and Emily Bronte and a million other books.  Dickens, Twain, Dostoevsky, etc.

My aunt Ruby was an English major, as well as my aunt Doris, and they saw to it that I was reading classic literature.  My mom added to the mix by making a rule that if I was reading, I didn't have to help with the housework.  The three sisters.  They shaped me in so many ways.  I miss them.

If you live to a ripe old age as I have, you end up missing everyone that meant something in your life.  You are left with wonderful memories, but you would rather "they" were still with you.  Yes, you have children, grandchildren, great grandchildren--but they are not of your generation.  They don't know the times, the seasons of your life.  There is a loneliness in old age that can't be filled.  It is a part of living many, many years.  You are the last leaf on the tree.  The matriarch of your family.

Not complaining, mind you.  Just feeling lonesome for those who have already gone on.  But was cheered up when Jeanette came over.  Friends are the most wonderful thing.  Good friends are God's gift.  They fill the empty places that come from growing old.  And family.  Sam, my grandson, called me today to tell me he loves me.  He always starts by saying, "Hey, beautiful..."  I am no longer beautiful, but I walk a little straighter after he calls.  And when I look in the mirror, I say, "Hey beautiful," and smile to myself.

 As you know, Tony works for me--and I adore his two twin boys.  The boys just turned thirteen.  The two boys finished painting my guest room a couple of weeks ago, and did a professional job.  I love them all.  They have become a part of my life.

This holiday weekend, they went camping with their dad and grandfather in the mountains out west, taking two cars in a convoy with all their gear.  Austyn was in the car with his grandfather, and Tyler was with Tony.  They were driving at the top of a high crag when the grandfather had a heart attack and he and Austin went over the cliff, down 150 feet.  Austyn was ejected, and his grandfather died.

Tony rigged winches and chains and frantically rappelled down the cliff to get to Austyn, who was in horrible shape, bleeding internally with gashes on his head and a number of broken ribs.  When they got him to the hospital, doctors removed his spleen, braced his neck and back and started draining blood and fluid from his lungs.  To say the least, everyone who knows the family were praying for God to intervene and help him.  And prayed that there was no brain damage.  Everyone was very frightened for Austyn, and the last three days have been emotionally draining for all of us who loved him.  Such a bright, lively, sweet boy.  The thought of losing him was horrible.

Today the news is better than good, it is miraculous.  They removed the tubes, and tomorrow, they are doing a MRI to check his neck and back, and a MRA to check for internal bleeding.  They plan on standing him up.  Austyn is alert, awake and remembers everything that happened, including going over the cliff.

God is good.  Sometimes we despair, fall into fear, and need His love to be visible.  This has been one of those times.  Austyn will have physical scars, but he has his life.  And I for one am thankful beyond belief.  I can hardly wait to hear the outcome of his tests tomorrow--I expect them to be excellent.

I expect to put both him and his brother to work painting my other bedroom over fall break--that's how optimistic I am.  Loving someone can cause you pain from time to time.  But love is what life is all about.  Loving others.

My friend Jeanette called me the other day to see if I was okay.  I had failed to post and it worried her because it was out of character for me.  What a great thing to have someone care enough to check on you when you don't follow your normal pattern.  Truth was, I had gotten so wrapped up in moving that I had forgotten to post.  I had written it, but forgotten to hit "Send."  Jeanette is one of two close friends I have made in Edmond.  Friends are one of life's greatest blessings.

David and Steven and Craig brought some of the stuff I hadn't yet moved over to my new house for me.  Flower pots, tools, etc.  There is a shed in my new back yard that I hadn't even had a moment to check out, or go into.  So when they started putting stuff in it, lo and behold, there were hanging nests of fierce black wasps inside.  Which they dispatched with Raid.  It will be nice to have a place for the wheel barrow and the roto-tiller.  As well as shovels, rakes, chain saw and such.  The tools of the gardening trade.  I can't wait to use them.  Minus the wasps.

When I left Beaufort Carolina in 1966, we were moving, and I had dug up a ton of red spider lilies to take to Oklahoma with me.  But I forgot and left them on the front porch in a paper bag when we left--because we were in such a rush to get on the road.  Last year Pat bought me a bunch of them.  And this year, she divided hers and gave me half.  So I am anxious to get them in the ground.  It's the perfect time to plant them. They were in pots the boys brought over--I stuck them in pots to hold them while until moved.  I hope they survived.

Lester Holt said something the other night that I thought was meaningful about McCain.  "John McCain has reminded us that we need heroes to believe in.  Men who are respected and admired by us all, who make us proud to be Americans."  True.  Not Democrats.  Not Republicans. But Americans.  Honorable men.

Ken was one of those.  I miss him.

I am starting a new week.  The worst of all of the move is behind me.  I am going to slow down and think about writing again.  Writing is what I love.  Moving isn't.

I didn't sleep very well Friday night.  At 1:00 AM I gave up, got up, and wandered around.  I finally went back to bed, and eventually I went to sleep sometime later--and was awakened early by someone pounding on my door before the sun came up.  Steven.  He calls me from Dallas a couple of times a week--sometimes by 5, 5:30 because he knows I'm up by then.  He had come to Edmond to watch the OU game with his brother--who now lives in my old house--and when he woke up, nobody else was awake and he knew I would be.  Wrong.

But it was so good to see him, sleep was secondary at that point.  We talked about everything for an hour, and he promised to bring Madison--his new wife--over to visit later.  I adore Madison.  She is so smart, and interesting.  And down to earth.  We hit it off the first time I met her and it has gotten better and better as time goes on.  She is intense--like I am.  David's wife Jennifer, is also sweet, thoughtful and kind.  I love her as well.  It is wonderful to know these boys married good women.  Jennifer brings my mail to me every day, and shares my okra with me.  She calls it "Your okra," but I remind her that it is hers now. When I was moving, she must have carried 50 boxes across the street for me.

What a wonderful thing grandchildren are.  I certainly love all of mine.  These boys are 29, and 30 now,  and I still think of them as boys--which they aren't any more.  When Steven was 18 months old, Becky was 8 months pregnant with David.  She called and said, "Go get your passport, I have your ticket.  You have to come to Paris and hold Steven so I can fly back to America.  My stomach is so huge that I can't hold him and if I don't leave this week, the airline isn't going to let me fly.  Craig can't leave for another month, and I don't want to have this baby in Paris."  So I went to Paris for the first time.  I tried and failed to hold Steven when we came back on the plane.  He was a wild child.

It began a 25 year adventure going abroad with Becky, taking one of the boys, and playing while Becky worked.  The picture I dropped on my head last Friday was a photo of York Cathedral.  Stephen and I went there 3, maybe four times, hopping trains in England.  And this morning, he reminded me of us getting stuck on a concrete platform in a snow storm.  He remembered a number of things I had forgotten.   One was that the train that picked us up was just one car.  All I remember was, "What in the world was I going to do if a train didn't come, stop, and pick us up."