I've been reading the book of Luke.  Every now and then, I like to go back to the four Gospels and see what Jesus actually said.  The Old Testament of the Bible is all about what he is going to say--and the remaining New Testament is about what others had to say about Him.

The reason I am a believer is because of the testimony of the people who knew Him, wrote about Him, changed their lives as a result of what they saw and heard, and subsequently died to get the message out.

One person's account might be interesting.  Two people saying the same thing might perk your ears up.  Eleven people saying the same thing, dropping their day jobs forever and striking out on their own in different directions to tell people that Jesus died, was crucified, was buried and done with--but miraculously they had seen him alive a week later--that He was risen from the dead, well, that is convincing.  

I especially love a good doubter.  Give me the testimony of Thomas at the top of the list.  Ten disciples saw Jesus, told Thomas about it, and Thomas refused to believe them.  Jesus came to Thomas, held out his nail-scared hand and Thomas said, "My Lord, and my God."  And Jesus said, "You believe because you have seen me.  Blessed are those who believe without seeing me."  That's me.  That's you.  We are "Blessed..."

God is in control of weather.  We can't stop it.  We can't change it.  We can't avoid it.  Man just thinks he is in control of things in the world.  Roofs are damaged.  Cars smashed.  Ice storms, hurricanes, earthquakes, tornados--and fires on the West coast are raging.

My yard looks like a war zone.  Every house on my street looks the same way.  Every tree is split, torn apart or bent over to the ground.

The entire side of the street opposite my house is still without power.  I feel so sorry for them, but at the same time, I thank God my power came back on.  I have a happy-guilty feeling.  So sorry for my neighbors.  I've invited them to take advantage of my extra bedrooms.

The news this morning told us to hold back our garbage cans because there will be no service for days.  Every person on city crews is clearing trees and branches off the streets.  Chain saws are roaring.

Perhaps we need to be reminded from time to time that we are totally dependent on electricity. The adjustment to life without it is terrible.  I guess if you lived in the country, had chickens, cows, goats, and had canned everything in your garden after you picked it, you would survive.

We city folk wouldn't.  What havoc such a small thing as ice can inflict.

Just in case I might lose power...became reality.  No power by noon yesterday and my phone charge was 15%.  I went to the car to plug it into the charger in the car and of course couldn't find where to plug it.  Finally pulled out the change drawer and it was behind (!!!) the back and underneath it on the dash.  No way to see it if you didn't pull the drawer out and look under and behind it.  I guess the Lincoln Town Car people didn't want you to look like you were a smoker.  Ruins their image?

David came over and drove me to Becky's.  I haven't ever seen such devastation other than after a tornado.  Blocked roads.  Trees down through roofs.  Limbs everywhere.  My oak trees in front of the  house are in pieces all over the yard.  Ice everywhere.

I came home last night.  The power came on.  However...at 7 this morning it was off again.  When it finally came back on, I backed the car out of the garage and parked it in the driveway.  I wasn't able to lift the garage door without the automatic electric door opener.  I felt totally trapped.  If more limbs fall, they will get my car.  What a mess.

I called Craig and asked him to get me a generator that is automatic.  I don't ever want to go through anything like this again.  I have an automatic electric recliner.  This morn, when the power went off, I was totally reclined with my feet up.  All of you would have laughed watching me get out of the thing.  I didn't realize how wimpy I am.

 I went to get the mail for myself and a neighbor (who is in the hospital), and both of our mail boxes were sealed shut with ice.  I had to brave the slick driveway and sidewalk a second time to get a hammer to bang the mailboxes open.  

The trees still have green leaves, leaves that are now coated with ice.  This hasn't ever happened in my memory because it never freezes or ices up until the leaves have already fallen.  The ice that is coating the leaves is so heavy,  limbs are breaking all over town.  And breaking power lines.

All of the houses on the other side of my street have lost power.  When I went to get the mail there was a huge boom at the end of the street.  And then another, and another.  Sounded like a plane crash.  I bet it was a transformer.

I was watching TV--thankful that I had power--when it occurred to me that I probably ought to get candles and matches out.  Just in case.  And a flashlight. All my flashlights were dead but one.  Thank goodness for the one.  I'll rectify that and purchase batteries as soon as the ice melts. 

It is terrible when it is cold with ice coming down outside and the power goes out. But sleet is better than freezing rain.  Only an Okie would say that.  We understand weather. 

 I thought that surely--by now--things would be getting better, but yesterday was the highest count for Corona virus to date.  All I can say is, "Get your flu shot."  You don't want to fight both of them.  I got mine.

I put the ingredients together (double batch) in a huge pan for a breakfast casserole.  When I bake it, I put it in long sheet cake pans and when done, cut them into 48 portions, wrap in plastic wrap, and freeze them.  I can do it all except stirring it together.  My arm isn't strong enough. It lasts at least three months.  Solves the problem of what to eat for breakfast.  

Saturday, I knew Scott was coming by before he went back to Pryor, so I put everything together, and when he got here I asked him to please stir it all up for me.  He did. I can't do that part any more.  He was in Edmond for his grandson's birthday.  I didn't go.  I'm being extra careful.

Breakfast is always a problem for me because I don't like milk or eggs.  Today, I ate a meatloaf sandwich.  Whatever is left over in the fridge is what I end up eating for breakfast.  Makes no difference to me.  I'll eat about anything if it doesn't have a milk base.  No, I don't eat ice cream either.  Yogurt--no.  I'll eat cereal dry.

I know.  It's not normal.  But it's always been that way.  I don't like sweets either.  Occasionally, pie.  No chocolate.  Pound cake--yessss... 

 A couple of days ago, I was in the kitchen doing something or other and looked up to see a mouse running down the hall toward my bedroom.  I had mice in this house when I moved in and called Tony to find where they were coming in and get rid of them.  He did.

He found a hole in the heater closet in the ceiling--they were goin into the attic and coming down through the studs in the wall to the inside.  Tony fixed it.  Closed off the entry points, sealed up everything--no more mice.

Only thing I can think of is that I left the garage door to the house open for a minute when I went into the garage to get something from the freezer.  And a mouse took advantage of the opportunity. 

So, I set traps.  Nothing for two days.  Not even any evidence of mice anywhere.  And then, last night as I was getting ready for bed, I happened to glance into the bath tub and a very small little mouse was looking up at me.  He had probably fallen off the bath platform ledge--but how he got up to the ledge is a mystery. You could tell he was exhausted from trying to climb up the slick sides of the tub to get out.

It took a bit of time, every time I almost grabbed him he would jump up in the air.  But I finally got him and took him outside where he belonged.  He said, "Thank you.  You are a very kind lady."  I said, "Don't come back."

I absolutely detest it when some strange thing appears on my computer.  I have no idea what to do.  I usually call Becky and she fixes it.  But then, it sometimes leads to new problems.  And I always find out what they are after she leaves.

Today, I found out that the problem--the one that occurred after the first problem was fixed--was that I can't get into my Libby library account.  I can't use the search engine to find out what I want to read next.

Pat will help me tomorrow with that.  She will have to set that library account up again.

I can't back up and erase on my Word Program.  I'll have her fix my short-cut commands as well.

I have two brilliant daughters who take pity on me.

Craig met with me yesterday to consult with a lawyer.  I'm thinking about  how "checking into heaven" can be made easier for my children.  He has graciously consented to manage everything.  He is such a good person.  He also changes my refrigerator filter and my heater fan filters.  That's the kind of son-in-law everyone needs.  Not only smart, but handy as well.

 Today, I am getting my finances in order!  I admitted to my friends Carolyn and Jeanette that I hadn't balanced my checkbook in four years.  Jeanette threatened me.  Carolyn made me ashamed.  That's what good friends do.

This--from a mathematician!  It all just got away from me when I moved to Edmond.  I was renovating a house, in a strange place, overwhelmed with details.  One thing led to another, one month went by, then another, everything seemed okay.  (Bank wise, that is.)

But now.  I have an honest balance in my account.  To the penny.  It feels good.  I kept it that way for sixty years--I just fell of the wagon.  

Ken was always gone.  He expected me to keep up with all the bank things.  I wrote the checks, paid the bills, decided what we would buy and what we couldn't afford.

When he came home from Viet Nam and retired, I handed him the check book and said, "Here.  You figure it out.  I'm done."  He said, "How much do you need each month to run the house."  I told him.  He put it in my check book.  What I didn't say was that we had never had that much.  He came back later and asked, "How did you make this work?"  I told him that he asked me how much I needed--not how much I was getting by on.

 Hezekiah's father Ahaz didn't trust God.  He turned to the Egyptians because they had chariots and horses.  Sennacherib--the king of the Assyrians (A violent country, just as it--Iraq--is today) was stalled, on the northern border of Jerusalem as they were getting ready to invade.

An interesting thing about the account--given in several books of the Old Testament--is that it is also validated in archeological history.  Sennacherib wiped out 28 cities before he laid siege to Jerusalem. 

In the British Museum in London they have the actual carved walls that lined Sennacherib's palace in Assyria.  I've been to the British Museum, seen the carved panels (which are dozens upon dozens of feet long on both sides of the museum wall) and they are impressive.  Every time Sennacherib defeated a city, he had his artists carve a rendition of the events of the battles in the order they happened onto the palace halls.

Interesting to note that the accounts in the Bible are one-hundred percent validated by archeology. But then, we know the Bible always speaks truth.

By the time Sennacherib was sitting outside ready to invade, Ahaz was dead and Hezekiah was king.  Hezekiah turned to God instead of Egypt.  The Assyrians were wiped out as they waited to invade, "...one hundred and fourscore and five thousand died in the night."  God always wins.

 You remember the old saying--or was it a song..."Thank God for Unanswered Prayers." Well, Sunday, our lesson was from Isaiah.  About Hezekiah, the prophet, the leader of the remaining Israelites in Jerusalem. Hezekiah was very sick; he was dying, and he prayed for God to extend his life.  It was not God's plan for Hezekiah to live longer, but since Hezekiah had lived an obedient life, God listened.

God answered his prayer and gave him fifteen more years.  In Second Chronicles 33:1, we read that Hezekiah's son Manasseh begins to reign when he is twelve years old.  Which means he was born three years after Hezekiah got fifteen more year of life. (Math.)

Manasseh is described as evil.  He built alters in "high places" to idols.  He worshiped strange gods and abandoned the God of his father Hezekiah.  It would have been better for Israel if Manasseh had never been born.  But Hezekiah got what he prayed for--and later, had an evil son. Manasseh led Israel away from their God into idol worship--an abominable leader. 

I couldn't help but think that sometimes, we need to think about what we are asking God to give us.  Because sometimes, He does.  And sometimes it isn't good for us.  Or others.  But God says he will hear us.  He says, "Ask, and you shall receive."  Probably it's better to pray for His will. 

 I have always enjoyed reading the short list of instructions at the end of the first book of Thessalonians.  It clarifies the things I am supposed to be doing in my everyday life.  1 Thessalonians 5:14-22

1. Warn the unruly.   2. Comfort the feebleminded.   3. Support the weak.   4. Be patient with everyone  5. Don't render evil for evil.

6. Follow that which is good.  7. Rejoice evermore.  8. Pray without ceasing.  9. In everything give thanks--because this is God's will.

10. Don't quench the Spirit.  11. Don't hate prophesy.  (On this one--we must remember that there is no new prophesy.  The words of Christ ended with one unfulfilled prophesy--that he is coming again.  All prophesy is about His first appearance, or the second return of Christ.  If someone says they have a new prophesy--you need to run.  They are anti-Bible.)

11. Prove all things. (Fact check)  12. Hold fast that which is good.  And last....   13. Abstain from all appearance of evil.  (All of it.) 

Then comes the promise: "And the very God of peace sanctify you wholly...faithful is he that calls you who also will do it."  I try to live by these instructions.  Sometimes I'm successful.  Sometimes I'm not.  But they are always in my mind as God "grows" me day by day.

 

When I met Ken, he had a zillion reel to reel music tapes of classical music.  I have no idea how he taped them, but he was always listening to classical music.  I think he started the collection when he got back from Korea.  It was a sad day when technology advanced away from reels.

Me...a teen in the fifties...it was Elvis, Little Richard, Fats Domino, The Mcguires, Bee-bop-a-lulu.

After I married the guy, I converted to classical.  It wasn't a stretch, my piano teacher had me playing classical for nine years anyway.

I still have the radio station tuned to the station Ken left it on in the car he drove.  Classical.  The car is sitting in the garage.  Perfect condition.  I don't drive it very often, but when I turn the key, the music comes on.  Bach, Mozart, Beethoven...

I never figured out how he got hooked on Classical.  There were no musicians in his family.  It wasn't your typical Marine fighter pilot type of music.  But then, Ken wasn't your typical Marine.

The first thing he bought--when he finally made a little more money than we had to have--was a piano.  For me.  I dug out my sheet music and would play classical renditions.  For him.  He loved it. 

My daughter Pat texted me off and on yesterday to ask how I was doing.  It was Ken's birthday.  I'm not an emotional person, but days and events are things we do remember about people.  Pat has always been the sensitive one in the family.

Craig came over to help me with my finances.  Trying to get my ducks in line and clean up all the ifs, ands and buts.  He always has good advice.  I am blessed to have a son-in-law like him.

My lunches are now "Surprise A Meal."  I'm cleaning out the freezer from the one-portion things I have frozen in the past.  Today was delicious.  Chicken breast with basil-pasta.  Some days are not so good.

I have no idea what is going on with the book I wrote and Road-runner press bought from me.  My publisher has quit communicating with me.  I have no idea.  I sure have learned a lot about contracts.  She told me it would be out the Saturday after Thanksgiving in Edmond and the 5th of December in Pryor.  

So much for that happening.  Some people self-publish.  But they have to pay the publisher. (It's a racket.)  At least this company bought the book--but the company has control over when it comes out.  Right now, book stores aren't selling and publishers are holding new manuscripts back.

  

 Today is one of those days.  You know what I'm talking about.  It's 9:45 in the morning and I can't seem to find the "will" to go get dressed.  And to make it worse, I looked at Facebook--which is always a mistake.

I'm a fixer.  And Facebook needs fixing.  This morning's posts included every rude, cruel, and untrue piece of information that a person could possibly imagine.  Every word about a woman seemed to be a denigration of the way she looked.  Which meant she was a bad person.

Attacking people.  Making fun of people.  Telling lies about people.  Judging them by outdated, distorted, and mean comments.

This election has produced the worst in people.  I have yet to see anyone discuss an issue with any sense of knowledge on the subject.

People just rave and rant.

What has happened to us as a people?

I will be glad when this election is over and I can pray for our leaders--whoever they are.  We need to spend more time praying instead of yelling and pointing fingers.  God says to pray for our leaders of government whoever they are.  They certainly do--and will--need our prayers.

 I flipped on a religious station yesterday where I had never heard the speaker before.  I won't mention it, because it was one of those "Name it and claim it" kind of sermons.  But he said something interesting about the rich man who had such a big harvest that his solution was to build more, and bigger, barns. 

The rich man used the words "I," or "My" eleven times.  He considered himself a self made man and what he made he was going to keep.  All of it--even if it rotted in the barns.  Luke 12:17-19

"What shall I do, (with this abundant harvest) because I have no room where to bestow my fruits? And he said, This will I do; I will pull down my barns, and build greater; and there will I bestow all my fruits and my goods.  And I will say to my soul..Soul, you have much goods laid up for many years.  Take your ease, eat, drink, and be merry." 

What we have comes from God.  This man thought he was in charge and had created an abundant harvest all by himself.  

God said, "You fool."  Pretty well sums it up.  I couldn't help but think of the super rich who will never spend what they have made.  Or the guy who said, "I don't want all the land, I just want the land that is abutting up next to mine."

Every time my schedule gets messed up and things get out of order, I can count on a message from my friend in Texas, Rebecca Perkins, to politely ask, "You gonna post today?"

Fridays are the day Ann and I go to garage sales. She picks me up, drives and I usually get get us something to eat for breakfast with one of those two for one coupons.  It's fun.  But it changes my morning routine and I forget to post.

I bought clay pots.  The great big ones.  And roll around things to set them on.  I needed to get ready to bring the succulents inside for the winter.  Spent four dollars total. Big whoop.  I sit in the car most of the time and watch Ann shop.  It's entertainment.  About all the entertainment I get all week.  I don't need to be entertained anyway.  I'm at heart a hermit.  All I need is a book to read.

Every time I run out of something to do, I pray.  Seems like everyone in the world is sick right now.  There is a lot of sadness.  One of the sweet men in my Bible class on Wednesday night--a former pastor--left the church the other morning after a mens meeting and one of his friends accidentally ran over him.  He didn't survive.  

People who don't have God have no hope.  Believers do.  

Today I get my hair cut.  I can't stand it any longer.  I'm to the point that I'm about to take scissors to it myself.  All the TV people broadcasting from home need haircuts as well. They look scraggly.

One thing you don't "get" when you are young is why older people are bent over when they walk.  You have to get old to "get" what's going on.  Fact is, the bones in your spine have worn down and the nerves are getting pinched.  When you lean over, it "un-pinches."

There are lots of things that become clearer as you age.  Becky brought me one of those million dollar walkers, so I am back to walking around the block with Squig pulling on the leash.  Nothing wrong with my feet, knees, hips, or legs.  Just need something to lean on to take the pinch off the spine.  I hate to use a walker.  It looks like I'm old and helpless.  I'm not.

Squig is afraid of the walker.  He is the worst "Chicken Dog" I've ever known.  Anything new and different is an enemy.

Everyone I know who has had spine surgery seems to regret it.  They fuse the bones.  Then you can't bend at all.

I'm not old yet.  So I'll wait and see what's next?  I don't know exactly when a person gets old.  I think it's all in your mind when you do it.

 My garden is going down the tubes.  Okra has almost quit.  Tomatoes have quit blooming and setting new little tomatoes.  The only thing growing with enthusiasm is the crab grass--which has taken over.

Why do weeds always succeed?  If you leave your garden unattended, the weeds take over.  Unattended lives seem to succumb to sin in the same way.  It takes effort to get good results.  Bad results just happen.

When a child is born--and I have raised four of them--You don't spend any time at all teaching them to do bad things.  You spend all of your time trying to teach them to "Not" do bad things.  You have to work at it to teach them good things.  You are constantly correcting their behavior. 

Don't spit.  Don't bite anyone.  Don't hit anyone.  Don't throw food.  Etc., etc., etc....

And then teaching them the considerate things they should do...say please, thank you.  Take turns, share...

God knew the condition of the human soul.  We needed a savior from ourselves.  We are born as our own worst enemies.  We need parents who love God who will teach us His ways so that our lives will be rich and fulfilling. America is raising a crop of weeds for lack of Godly parents.

Today is going to be a good day because yesterday was a bummer.  I had my annual mammogram (You girls know what that entails!) and when they were through, they told me to wait for the radiologist.

Sitting in a "four by four booth" with a hard bench, in a gown waiting.  Waiting for two and a half hours.  They had some sort of emergency and got backed up.

It was like herding cattle into a chute.  I gave up, got dressed, and walked out into the hall and a nurse said, "Where are you going!"  I said, "Home." She said, "You are next."  I said, "I'm not putting that gown back on."  She said, "Okay, follow me--you have to have an ultrasound and see the radiologist." She knew I was DONE.  I was.  Everything turned out Okay.

Jeanette drove me there and we went to the Red Lobster afterwards.  Don't go if you think the menu is the same.  It isn't. No lunch menu.  They brought me the wrong meal.  The lettuce was so limp it hung off my fork.  I wonder if restaurants are going to survive this Pandemic.  They did their best, but it wasn't memorable.  I've been there a dozen times since moving here...none of the staff that was familiar was there.

Like I said...today is going to be a better day.  I may eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.  No more mammograms for a year.

My car had a warning light that said a tire was low.  That was an understatement.  It had a bolt in the tire.  I never go anywhere--so I am at a loss as to where I could have run over a bolt.  Never felt it.

The only thing I can think of that I ran over was a rail-road track.  Everywhere else I went was on clear concrete streets.  To Brahms or to the church.  I haven't driven a hundred and fifty miles since January.

I miss the good old days when I drove into a filling station and an attendant came out.  He filled the tank, washed the windshield, washed the side mirrors, checked the tires, the pressure, aired up all four tires and anything else that needed to be done.

That's gone forever.  My granddad had a station with a small grocery store in Wilburton, Oklahoma.  The pumps had glass top containers that gurgled when you pumped the gas.  I'm sure they were dangerous.

There was a big chest full of ice.  Packed with Coca-Cola.  Grape soda-Nehi.  Root-beer.  Glass jars at the checkout--full of jaw-breakers.  Cash register with keys that opened the drawer and rang up the sale.

And best of all, my granddad in a work apron covered with grease from checking under someone's car.  Then washing his hands, and slicing bologna and cheese for the customers.

 

 I watched a Nova program yesterday about the invention of alphabets.  It all began with pictures.  Hieroglyphics.  Then, the words for things--such as bear, bird, branch, started representing the "B" sound and things were spelled out using those images for that sound to make words that didn't have an image--such as "bought."

Then, paper--on which to write.  Then Parchment, (skin).  Inks... on and on.  Finally in 1455, Gutenburg made his printing press with movable type.  Before that, only very rich people could afford a book.  Reading was a luxury. People didn't read because they couldn't afford it. So why learn? 

I remember when newspapers used movable type.  They had wooden boxes to hold the letters they used.  It was slow, but it allowed multiple copies.  Then manual typewriters.  My Mac is like a miracle.  

The year I started first grade, every desk had an ink well.  I learned to write with a pen and ink.  The pen tips broke, and had to be replaced by putting a new metal tip in a wooden stick-thing.  Ink was spilled all the time.  And if you sat in front of a boy, he thought it was funny to dip the ends of your long hair in his ink well. (It wasn't funny.  You couldn't wash it out.)  Ball point pens were a thing of the far distant future.  We had pencils.  Huge diameter with big lead.  Which made all writing smushy and wide.  Ugly.  Yellow pencils with small tips came later.  I remember it all.

 After yesterday's blogging format foul up, I decided it was a sign for me to quit posting--after 2000 posts.

And today, ta-da!! It's okay again.  Or semi-okay.  The jury is still out.

Problem is....after 2000 posts, I've run out of words.  I've probably told you every story I know.

I find it difficult to imagine that it is October.  This is the fastest year I've ever lived.  You would think--with the fact I'm pretty much stuck in the house, the world outside has slowed down, I don't go out to eat as often, and I don't see people at church--that it would seem to have gone slow.

But that hasn't been the case for me.  I've written more every day on the book about my brother's China experience.  I've graduated to the stage 5 level of Sudoku--which stresses every brain cell in my head.  I've been finishing the Friday crossword most of the time--Friday's crossword is the one that has always been too hard for me.

You would think I would have watched more TV, but that hasn't been the case either.  This pandemic has been awful for most people.  Difficult.  I can only imagine what it is like for people who have children who can't go to school.  I don't know how they are managing.  God bless them.