Meanwhile, in a Nearby Small Town...

Well, ok, it's not so nearby to most of my friends and family, but I have been busy in the town I moved to in August.

I have once again been too busy to write. In mid-September I found a duplex for rent and my contract started on Sept 15, the birthday of my firstborn child. I spent the last half of September moving in, and have been getting settled in my new place since then. I decided to rent for a while because the housing market is crazy right now. Everything is sky-high expensive. I will possibly look into buying in a year...or maybe I'll just continue to rent. It's kind of nice to not have to worry about the expenses that come with being a homeowner, and the rent is decent.

I've kind of fallen into the rabbit hole of YouTube videos; specifically those about minimalism, rental renos, and decorating. I pulled myself away to write because lately I've been feeling like I am supposed to. Actually, I've felt like I'm supposed to write a book, maybe more than one, for a while now. So I'm exercising the typing muscles and writing in my blog. 

All the YouTube videos have made me feel inadequate to some degree, but my gift is writing, not public speaking. I don't think I could ever feel comfortable doing a "vlog," as they call the video version of blogging. It's just not me.

But will anyone continue to read my blogs? In today's world, no one seems to have time to read; everyone wants to watch or listen. Several people I know listen to podcasts every day for their daily Bible reading and for devotionals.

Maybe that's why I need to pursue the book-writing. 

Call me old-fashioned; I still like the written word. I have read 21+ books (that's an estimate; I've actually lost count) in 2021; most of those since I retired in June. I have really enjoyed having time to read, but I don't read more than about an hour a day because I have so many other things I want to do.

That's really all I have for the moment. If you read this, consider commenting either on the blog post or Facebook or Twitter. Would you continue to read a blog, or have you become more accustomed to listening instead of reading?

I'd be interested to know if I still have any followers. 

This scripture has stuck with me for days now; it causes me to think about my sphere of influence, and how can fulfill the plans God has for me? He has put a fire into my heart to write. Maybe that's what I'm supposed to do, either with more regular blogging (MUCH more regular blogging), and eventually, books?

"Devote yourselves to prayer, keeping alert in it with an attitude of thanksgiving; praying at the same time for us as well, that God will open up to us a door for the word, so that we may proclaim the mystery of Christ..."  Colossians 4:2,3 NASB

New Chapter

It's been a while since I have written in this blog. There's been a LOT going on.

For starters, I'll sum up (too much to 'splain just yet):

June 18: On the day after my last official work day (I had vacation days to use up), I sold my house.

June 30: I officially retired from the school where I had worked since 1995.

August 3: I closed on the house I had bought in 2009 and that same day, drove 3 1/2 hours to where my daughter and her family lives.

Yep, a lot has happened in a short amount of time. Welcome to the new chapter of my life. Now, let me explain what's been going on.

Several years ago, when I first started thinking about retirement, I started entertaining the thought of moving to where my family lives. Those who know me know that I could have not been persuaded to leave my hometown, the only place I have lived for the 66.5 years of my life so far, unless God directed me to. I liked my little house and my little town. I had close friends at church and at work. I was content.

Until I wasn't. About 2 years ago, I really started to feel isolated from family and friends. Several good friends had retired or became involved in their own families to a greater extent so that I seldom saw them. Completely understandable, but those are the facts. Also, I only saw my kids about once a year, and 2-3 times a year I traveled to the town where I am now living to see my grandkids.

Then Covid came along, and all that came to an abrupt halt. There was no more seeing anyone, anytime. I was working from home, where I lived alone. I didn't see my friends, my co-workers, my church family, or my children and grandchildren. The only social interaction I had was on zoom and Facetime calls.

I don't have to tell you, though; you all lived it with me. Our society has changed drastically in the past year and a half.

My daughter had been suggesting that I moved to their town when I retired. I had been hesitant, but still open to the suggestion for SOMEDAY. Not right away, though. That is, until the 4 1/2 months of working from home and isolation I endured from mid-March through the first week of August in 2020.

I'm not outgoing; I'm actually quite the introvert, and I do fine by myself with some social interaction every so often. I didn't do so well with 4+ months of it, though.

I started to feel like I was on an island, and there were no boats venturing close to it. I went days without uttering a sound because there was no one anywhere near me.

My beloved 15-year-old cat, Izzy, had crossed the rainbow bridge in December 2020, so I didn't even have her to talk to.

The idea of moving started to sound plausible. 

About a year ago, I started considering putting my house up for sale in the spring of 2021. I prayed about it a lot, and somewhere along the way a number--a sale price for my house--came to me. I pushed it aside because I knew nothing about selling a house and what to ask for it.

But the number stayed there. I began to realize that it was God putting that number in my head. I felt He was telling me that this was the price I would get for it.

I consulted a friend at church who is a realtor, and she told me what I should ask for my house if I wanted to sell it on my own. This price was a little more than the number I had been thinking of, but it's what I decided to start with. The plan was to try and sell it for a few weeks, then list it with her if it didn't sell.

By the middle of June, the people who had been interested in my house all backed away. No one even countered my asking price. I decided that meant I was supposed to list it, so I made an appointment for June 18, my first day of vacation, to meet with my realtor and list my house.

Meanwhile...(this is where it gets good)...    

I needed to train my replacement at my job, but we had difficulty getting together. I finally got to work with her for 2 hours on my last day on the job, at the end of the day. I now know that this was exactly how God set it up.

The peace of God enveloped me when I met her; I knew she was who God wanted to have my job. He had given it to me years before in a strange turn of events and I had loved my job. It was the job I was meant to do. Now I knew He had done the same for her.

I had paperwork to turn in to the administration office, but they were closed by the time we were finished that day, so I went to turn in the paperwork the next morning, on the first day of my vacation, June 18. Because I had to go to the office to turn this in, I saw and talked to someone I didn't see often. As it turns out, this is who bought my house. 

I had been feeling a little irritated that the events of that week had not lined up like I had planned. But God...HE had a plan.

The price? There was an offer, and I countered. Then the buyer countered the number that had been in my head for almost a year. 

I started crying because I knew God was working to sell my house.

GOD sold my house. I had nothing to do with it. 

I still don't have a house of my own; housing is hard to find right now. But I have my daughter and son-in-law's basement apartment to live in until I find a place. My needs are met. God had it all worked out.

So begins my new chapter, in a new town. God is in control, He has shown me that repeatedly. 

By the way, this is the scripture that came to me when I woke up this morning:

For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Jeremiah 29:11 NIV

Remembering a Special Person

Today would have been my cousin Peggy's 84th birthday. She became a resident of Heaven on December 7, 2020; exactly 54 years to the day after our sweet grandma, "Mammy," passed away.

Our mothers were sisters, and she was my only first cousin. The family I grew up in was small. My mom's one sister had one child, and my parents only had two. My brother died many years ago, and now Peggy is gone. I'm the only one left from our generation. 

It seems odd that I am in the same generation as my brother, who was fifteen years older than me, and my cousin, who was eighteen years older than me. I was a late and unexpected addition to the family, no where near the ages of her and my brother, who grew up together. 

She was more like a second mother or a favorite aunt than my cousin. I loved spending time with her. I have fond memories of getting to go with her on errands when I was very young. 

Peggy took me to my first movie when I was 9 years old. Disney's Cinderella came out that year, 1964, and we went to the Malco on Garrison Avenue in Fort Smith to see it. Afterwards, we went to Pizza Hut for my first taste of pizza.

When I was seventeen, she and her family went to Six Flags and she asked my mom if I could go. Amazingly, my mom let me go! (I was very sheltered). Her son, who is four years younger than me, was thirteen and she turned us loose to go and ride anything we wanted to with instructions to meet at a certain place for lunch. 

Two teenage cousins loose in Six Flags. We had such fun! I think we rode every ride twice! And of course, she didn't have to ride stuff with him! Brilliant. She got sick on rides, and I never have. That was a great game; an all star memory that I still think of as the most fun I had ever had at that point in my life. 

Like I said, I was over-protected, and on that trip I got to be a teenager just having fun.

After I was grown and married with children of my own, we didn't hang out quite as much. After my mother passed away suddenly in 1996, though, we became close again. We went shopping a lot, one of her favorite pastimes. I have never been one to really enjoy shopping, but Peggy made it fun. 

Always, without fail, after a couple of hours she would announce that she needed some coffee, and off we'd go in search of somewhere to have a mid-afternoon snack. I think this is why I always have to stop and have coffee or a Coke and some kind of snack when I'm doing serious shopping, like at Christmas.

Once not long after my mother died, we drove to Little Rock to shop in a bigger and better mall. We had such fun on that trip! We each bought a new wallet, because we decided we needed to become more organized. We cleaned out our purses and put all our wallet contents in our new wallets. It may not sound fun, but it was to us. Looking back, I know she was grieving as much as I was for my mother. It was so like her to find a fun way to help us both mourn the loss we had just experienced. She was very close to my mom.

Maybe about a year before she had a stroke in 2012, we went on one last shopping trip. I didn't know it was the last, and it was for the best that I didn't. I had bought my house a couple of years earlier, but she hadn't bought me a housewarming gift she said. So she bought me a lamp for my living room. Of course, we had coffee and dessert, and I believe it was Denny's where we had our mid-shopping trip refreshments.

I still have that lamp, and several other mementos of a very special family member. While I treasure the items she bought for me --I know her love language had to be gift giving--most of all I treasure the memories of her shopping with me. My main love language is quality time, so it meant to me that she loved me, because she spent time with me.  

So, happy birthday in heaven, Peggy. You were not only family, you were a great friend to me. You had a gift for making a little shopping trip into a great adventure. We usually didn't buy a lot, but the memories I have are the treasure anyway.

<3

Halloween On a Saturday...Again...

Eleven years ago today, I moved into my very own house. It was quite an accomplishment for me to buy a house after being on my own for twelve years; not only financially and emotionally, but also spiritually as well. Halloween is my spiritual birthday; I gave my heart to Jesus on October 31, 1994. It is a very special day to me. I have never been the same.

I was going to just re-post the blog I wrote 10 years ago about my first night living in my own home, but I wanted to add a little explanation. After all we've been through during 2020, in this year of the pandemic, it's even more special to me that Halloween landed on a Saturday again, just like the first day I lived here. 

It's like, once again, God went out of His way to remind me that I am His and He is always with me.

God has taken care of me my whole life, but it's been especially evident since I went through a divorce and started to make my own way in life alone. He has never let me down, and He never will. 

Something I didn't mention in the original post is that I had owned the house for about 10 days, but my best friend and her husband and sons couldn't help me move until after the Heaven or Hell drama at our church. I know this was all in God's plan and timing. We had to delay until the drama was over and we had a weekend.

Which just happened to be Halloween.

So,without further ado, here is the blog I wrote in 2010 about that night.

Home Sweet Home

Did I ever mention that I bought a house? I did. I am a homeowner. After renting an apartment for twelve years, eleven of them in the same apartment, it was time.  It was quite a journey, from being newly divorced and working two jobs to make ends meet in 1997 to buying a house in October 2009.  God really did a work there.  Not only did He have to get me through some really rough stuff financially, especially in those early days, He had to convince me that I was capable of whatever He put in my heart to do--with His help of course. Anyone who knows me very well knows that I have not exactly exhibited an abundance of self-confidence.  That said, just know that my buying a house is a BIG DEAL.

God had been dealing with me for months before I even started house-hunting.  He urged me to start packing up Jeff's room; a good place to start since I obviously didn't use Jeff's stuff. Actually, Jeff didn't even use his stuff, since he moved to Virginia without the two six-foot bookshelves full of books (yes, he has that many books) and a closet full of clothes. That in itself is a story for another blog.  So, I began carting books to storage, even before I was officially looking for a house.

After months of searching, I found the right house and closed on the deal.  I became a homeowner.  Now if I could just stop shaking long enough to move.  Why was I shaking?  Oh, I forgot to mention:  I was terrified to move. I was so scared of living in a house.  My little second-floor apartment had been home to me for eleven years, and it was my comfort zone. I shifted into high gear: I started really packing and moving. A really good friend and her husband and sons helped me all day on a Saturday, and I was in. I had wall to wall boxes, but I was moved in.

That night after everyone was gone, I collapsed on the couch to rest and watch a little TV before bed.  I hadn't been afraid yet.  Hmm, that was strange.  It had been in the back of my mind all day, the fact that everyone would leave and I would be there all alone in a strange house.  As I sat there on the couch mulling this over, I heard the sounds of a group of children next door, having a lot of fun at their Halloween party. Ah, how nice.  It made it seem like a friendly, safe neighborhood. 

Wait a minute...Halloween?  Was the date really October 31?  At that precise moment, it hit me like a ton of bricks.  My first night to stay in my new house was October 31.  Unbelievable.  In case you haven't read some of my earlier blogs, this just happens to be my spiritual birthday.  I was radically saved on October 31, 1994, all alone in my living room.  It was a very dramatic "about face" for me.  I truly turned 180 degrees, from running away from God and all that He stood for to running into His loving arms and repenting.  I have never been the same.

As it began to sink in that God had purposely arranged for my first night in my house to be that particular day, peace enveloped me.  It occurred to me that I was not afraid. I was sitting on my couch, just in awe of Him and praising Him for doing that for me, when He clearly said to me that He gave me this house, and He wouldn't put me in harm's way.  If  He gave it to me, which He did, then He was already here and He made it a safe place for me to dwell.

I love it when the God of the universe goes to the trouble of doing something that will be very special to me.  He knew that it would give me peace to know He did that for me. It's home sweet home because He picked it out and was already here when I got here.  My Father is awesome!

Puzzling Times

The months since mid-March, when we were told we are in a pandemic, have been hard. 

At times I've felt isolated, like I was on a desert island with no boats in sight. It seemed at times like no one cared. None of my kids live near me, and it's so evident to me lately that I am alone.

I've had some anxiety, unsure of what lies ahead. I've basically become a hermit. For over 4 months, I only left the house for two reasons:  to do a grocery pick-up, not even getting out of the car, and go in to the office twice a week to do a few things for work that I can't do from home.

When school was about to start, I started going back daily, like normal. Only it's not normal. I stay in my office most of the day, and when I do leave I wear a mask.

The whole thing is stressful and so very "not normal." At times, it really starts to wear on me.

A couple of months ago, I was taking to my son and daughter-in-law, telling them how I was struggling emotionally. I really only feel safe when I am home, so that's where I stay most of the time. I don't unload often (at least I hope not) but that day, I guess it was showing that the stress was getting to me. I was battling depression, and I needed help. We talked a while, and I felt better after talking to them. 

About a week later, I came home to find a package on my front porch. My son and his wife had sent me a puzzle that they had worked recently, along with a sweet note. I was so touched at their gesture.

It's been on my kitchen table for the last couple of months, and at times I thought I would never get it together. But today, I put the last piece in. Finished!

While working on this puzzle, it occurred to me that the Christian walk has similarities to working a puzzle. 

We think we know what is right, until nothing seems to be going right. Eventually, we cry out to God for help, and He very patiently removes the piece we placed wrong and puts the correct piece in its place. 

This happened to me time and again while I was working on this puzzle. I would think I had it right; it seemed to fit, but later on it became evident that a specific piece just didn't go where I had put it. This particular brand of puzzle has a definite feel when you have it right. It just "schloops" right in, almost like it's magnetically drawn to the spot, and there is no more doubt that it's in the right place.

I know that may sound silly, but it seemed worth saying. Depression is a dark place that I have carefully avoided for many years, but have once again come dangerously close to. Working this puzzle was a reward to me for working all day. I could come home and work on the puzzle a little each day. It gave me something to look forward to.

I've written lots of times about getting free from depression, so it's probably surprising and perhaps disappointing to some of you to read that I'm struggling again. It's more complicated than "just going back there."

Depression is sneaky. It hangs around the edges and seizes any opportunity to drag its victims back into the darkness. This time, it felt like I was walking along in the fog and to one side there was a cliff.  On the other side, though, was my Savior, holding my hand and leading me back to a safer path.

During the last few weeks I have been doing much better. I know that Jesus never leaves me or forsakes me, and I am never alone. I've been walking with Him since October 1994 when I gave my life to Him. He has never once left my side, even though at times I have felt alone. 

He has been with me through it all, and He will never leave me. He will get me through this.

"The righteous cry out, and the Lord hears them; He delivers them from all their troubles.

The Lord is close to the brokenhearted, and saves those who are crushed in spirit.

The righteous person may have many troubles, but the Lord delivers him from them all." Psalm 34:17-19

Scaredy Cat

My cat Isabel is a "scaredy cat."  She has severe anxiety, which I think was brought on in part by living across the street from the football field when she was very little. The year I adopted her was also the year that our football team decided firing a cannon was a good thing to do when we scored a touchdown.

Izzy wasn't a fan.

She is still afraid of loud noises; things like thunder, large trucks driving down the street, and dogs barking will send her scrambling to get under the bed. A few mornings ago, she was sitting in my lap purring until the dog two houses down decided to start barking.

First, the purring stopped. Then, she started the characteristic fidgeting like she does when she's nervous about something. I knew the next step would be that she would get up and go to her hiding place under the bed.

I reminded her that the dog was outside and she was inside the house where he couldn't get to her. She of course did not listen to me and soon got up and left as I figured she would.

I shook my head and muttered something along the lines of "why won't you believe me that you're safe?" Then it hit me.

We do the same thing.

God tells us in His word to not fear, but we still do. I have battled with anxiety my entire life. I am so much better, but I have weak moments sometimes.

Some nights I lie down in bed, get comfortable and start to drift off to sleep, and then I hear something. Many times I have gotten up out of bed, checked every room, and of course all is ok.

This is when I get into the Word and read the places I where I have found peace. Places in His word like in Psalms calm my heart and help me remember to trust Him:

"I lay down and slept;

I awoke, for the Lord sustains me.

I will not be afraid of ten thousands of people

who have set themselves against me round about."  Psalm 3:5,6.

These days, the environment of society in a pandemic lends itself to being fearful.

Sometimes I have to shut off the news and just believe God is taking care of me. I'm doing all I can do; I'm mostly staying home and wearing a mask when I have to go out. I do grocery pick up for the most part but if I absolutely have to go into a store, I do it early in the morning before it's packed.

Then, I have to Just. Trust. God.

There's a reassuring passage in Isaiah:

"Do not fear, for I am with you;

Do not anxiously look about you, for I am your God.

I will strengthen you, surely I will help you,

Surely I will  uphold you with My righteous right hand."  Isaiah 41:10.

God is watching over me, I know He is. I have to be reminded of it from time to time, though; we all do if we're honest. I'm posting this because I DID need to be reminded, and chances are someone else did, too.

We are going to get through this by trusting in God, by taking Him at His word. There is a Bible full of promises of how He protects His children. We have to read and believe Him. He is our only hope. As the song says, "all my life You have been faithful, all my life You have been so so good..."

I choose to trust in the goodness of God.  Please join me in trusting Him.

Stay as safe as you can and leave this burden of fear in His hands. He is watching over His own. <3

Rescued Unharmed

Wow, May 5th. That was the last time I wrote. Time gets away these days. One day fades into another, and before you know it, it's been a month. Or two.

Here it is the third week of June, and The Virus still rages on. Working from home is the new norm for me. I'm so very thankful I have a job and I can work from home, but it just feels so....abnormal. Weird. Way out of the highly acclaimed comfort zone.

I still have not been back to church services, even though my church is meeting in two services to spread people out. For starters, to me it doesn't seem to be any better to be around people than it was at the start of this. Plus, I can't hug anyone. I can't sit with anyone (unless they want to take a chance on me not being infected, or I want to take a chance on them). I don't really see the point. I'm better off watching from home, which I do, faithfully.

I don't mean to sound cynical, but those are the facts as I see them. I'm certainly not suggesting that people shouldn't go church or do things out in society. I know some people really need to be with other people. We have the freedom to do as we see fit, and that's cool.

I've been staying busy, which is good I'm told. I work from home every weekday. I go into the office a couple of days a week for 3 or 4 hours at a time to print work I've done and saved, and to get documents signed to send to the administration office. I pick up more work that has accumulated to  home to work on.

Then I come back home.

When I'm not working, I read, or watch a movie, or binge-watch TV shows on Netflix, or sometimes go for a walk. I need to go for more walks, but the motivation has not been there lately.

I have cleaned out all the closets and have a huge collection of stuff to donate to charity.

Oh, and a very important new activity: I do a weekly grocery pick up. I order my groceries online and go to the grocery pick up area, where the store associates come out and put the groceries in my trunk. Where has this been all my life?

Simple pleasures. It's the little things, isn't it?

I'm not depressed, but as a person who was depressed most of my life until a few years ago, I know the signs very well. I could fall back into it if I don't fight it.

Today I'm fighting it. Some days I don't feel like fighting it, but I still do. Maybe not as hard as on good days, but I still fight. Because I remember sitting in the dark room staring at...nothing. I remember the complete hopelessness. I remember the loneliness. I remember feeling like no one cared about me at all. I remember feeling like I was in a deep pit and there was no ladder or stairs that I could find.

I'm fighting it because I know that this is all an illusion.

All is NOT lost; it is NOT hopeless, and there are people in my life who love me.

The most important person who loves me is JESUS. He died for me (and for you!) so that we could spend eternity with Him. He loves us with an everlasting love, and His mercies are new every morning.

That's great news! Sometimes in the fight I lose sight of the prize, as it says in Philippians 3:13-- "I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus."

So I go to Him every morning when I wake up and fall at His feet. I thank Him for keeping me alive yet another night and giving me another day to live. I tell Him all that is on my heart, and pray for a list of prayer requests that I bring to Him every day.

As long as He keeps waking me up every morning, I still have a mission on this earth. I still have a purpose, and I am still walking out His plan for my life. I may not be able to see into the future or know what He has planned for me from one day to the next, but HE knows, and that is all I need. HE has my name inscribed on the palm of His hand, as it says in Isaiah 49:16--

"Behold, I have inscribed you on the palms of My hands; Your walls are continually before Me."

He also says in Psalm 55: 17-18--

"Evening, morning and noon I cry out in distress, and He hears my voice.

He rescues me unharmed from the battle waged against me, even though many oppose me."

He rescues me unharmed. Yes, there is a real battle going on in the spirit realm. The enemy of my soul would like to pull me into depression again, and render me useless for the Kingdom of God. But GOD is on my side and He is not going to let me lose.

I think it might be time to start on that book I'm planning to write.

Be blessed my friends. Thanks for reading my rant!