67 Trips

 

So, what have I learned on this journey?

There are several things that have never changed during my lifetime.

First of all, I’m still me. When I was a skinny, scraggly-haired kid, I could find excitement, joy and humor everywhere I looked. I’m no longer skinny, my hair stays put; but I still am filled with enthusiasm, and there is nothing I love more than a good story or a chance to laugh!

Something else has never changed during this journey is the knowledge of these three truths:

1. Jesus loves me this I know, for the Bible tells me so. This is the bedrock of my life. Even when I feel less than lovable, I cling to this assurance.

2. But if we confess our sins to him, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all wickedness. (1 John 1:9 NLT) This is the cure for the times I feel less than lovable; when I have messed up, but I know what to do.

3. And we know that God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose. (Romans 8:28 NASB) So far, everything that has ever happened to me has worked out in the end. I believe it will continue.

I joyfully take the knowledge of these facts as I face the remainder of my time here on earth. I have much I still want to see and do; but I know my Good Shepherd is in control and will see I make it Home.

Until then, does anybody know any good stories?

~~

I'm sharing at Let's Have Coffee and Grace & Truth

 

 

 

31 Days of Life Stories, # 31

I've enjoyed our time together, but it is time to put the series, 31 Days of Life Stories, to rest. I'm ending with the most important story of my life.

I've told it more than once on the blog, but you can read it here.

 The Day I Died 

Whatever life stories you may have, it doesn't mean anything unless your story includes Christ!

Thank you so much for visiting my little spot in cyberspace. Come back anytime as I will be resuming my regular blogging schedule and sharing more about finding Him each step of the Journey.

This post is #31 in my series, 31 Days of Life Stories. Hundreds of writers are linking up at the 31 Day Writing Challenge hosted by Crystal Stine. There is a wealth of information on many topics. Go visit and see! I'll be posting under the category "Inspiration and Faith."

31 Days of Life Stories #30

My time of sharing life stories is drawing to a close. Only 2 days left! Tomorrow I'll be sharing what I consider my greatest life story of all.

Today, I thought I'd do a little recap about each of my children because without them my life story would not be complete.

Our oldest, Elissa, was a shy quiet child. She learned to read at age 3. The first time we knew she could read was when she and Jim were waiting for me in the parking lot of the Dell Farms grocery store.

"Daddy, what does 'Open 2-4 Hours' mean?"

We've got a genius on our hands!

Although timid, she was not afraid to speak her mind when she had enough, though. I had a friend who used to come over and do aerobics with me. Naturally, Elissa would join in with us trying to do all the moves. After the tape was over, we'd collapse at the table and drink sweet tea and talk. One day, Elissa felt Sue had been at our house long enough. She interrupted our conversation to demand, "When's Sue going home?"

Elissa always said she wanted to be a teacher. She spent a lot of time teaching her stuffed animals in her room. She also went with me to Ladies Bible Study and often after the lesson was over, she'd drag a chair to the front of the room, stand on it, and proceed to teach the lesson all over again. She did, in fact, achieve her goal and spends her days discussing the mysteries of Math with high school students.

She was the big sister, the translator (when we could not figure out what her sisters were talking about, she always knew), our tech adviser, and the one who kept our family going. We'd have been lost without her!

For more stories about Elissa, see "In Which I Share What I Learned from Our Daughter," "They Call Me the Fireman," and my personal favorite, "Help from an 8 Year Old."

Janae was our fearless and sociable child.  I say fearless because she loved to climb. She also fell a lot, busting her two top teeth twice. I was terrified she would have problems with her permanent teeth, but all turned out to be well.

She was friendly as a child. One of our fave stories about her was at the doctor's office waiting room, she'd go up to kids who were strangers and say, "Hi, I'm Janae. Wanna play?"

Somehow she grew up to be an introvert!

As I may have mentioned a couple of hundred times, she grew up to be the mother of our twin grandbabies. She is made to be the mom of twins because she is calm in seemingly all situations.

For more about Janae, see "Happy Birthday, Nae Nae" and "Icy Chickens"

Malia, our youngest, was our little lovebug. She liked to spend a good part of her toddlerhood with her little arms wrapped around my neck. She was an adorable chubby blond baby who somehow grew up to be a thin brunette.

As the youngest, she often had the problem of being overwhelmed by the chatter of her older sisters. I remember so often hearing her go, "Mom, mom, I talka to you." She would keep saying that until I heard her. I'd say, "What Malia?" and she'd hesitate ... because by this time she forgot what she wanted to say. "I love you, Mom," would be her answer because wasn't that always a safe way to respond?

For more about Malia, see "Sweet Seventeen," and "I Can't Believe She Did That" (about both she and Janae.)

I talk all the time about my Dad but I have a great mom, too. Here is a tribute I wrote for her once, "I'm Thankful for Mom."

I've been so blessed to have been surrounded with wonderful loving family members my whole life. If there are any I've not mentioned that much, don't worry! I've either mentioned them at some point in my seven years of blogging, or their time is coming! Because, I'm not stopping writing about my crazy blessed life anytime soon.

(By the way, if you read yesterday's story and felt a little sorry for my hubby that I told the inter-webs about his mishap, no worries. He loves that story and tells it on himself all the time.)

This post is #30 in my series, 31 Days of Life Stories. Hundreds of writers are linking up at the 31 Day Writing Challenge hosted by Crystal Stine. There is a wealth of information on many topics. Go visit and see! I'll be posting under the category "Inspiration and Faith."

31 Days of Life Stories #29

I feel like I'm on a roll for embarrassing stories, so here's another one, this time a tale about my hubby when we were first married:

My mother-n-law was a whiz with a needle and could patch anything where it almost looked like new. Keeping that in mind, my husband felt anything could be fixed. 

He loved high top Converse tennis shoes in black canvas. He had a pair that was really worn out. He decided to get a new pair. His thrifty soul was horrified at the cost. (I can't remember what the cost was, but I know it was nothing like the cost of high tops today.)

Now, that he had a nice new pair, he was going to save them for "dress" and wear the old ones doing things around the house or at the shop.

Except, one day he got in a hurry and mistakenly put on the new pair to go dirt biking.  At the end of the day, he came home with a gash in his brand new tennis shoe.

Mournfully he set them in the closet and resigned himself to saving up for a new pair.

Except, one day an idea flashed in his mind. Why not patch the tennis shoe? Mom could patch anything. However, he did not want to wait to go to Mom's.

He wanted it fixed right now.

He knew not to ask me ... I had no needle skills. Besides, that day I was sick as a dog and laying in bed nursing what felt like the flu.

He would just do it himself, by cracky!

His plan was to cut a patch out of the old set of tennis shoes. It would be a little faded but it would be the same kind of material as his new tennis shoe. Once he sewed the patch in, he felt it wouldn't be too noticeable. He laid all his paraphernalia (including all 4 of his tennis shoes) out on the bed, the one I was lying in, because why not let me share in his activities?

I was not enthusiastic about his plan and turned on my side and closed my eyes. Why must he make the bed shake so much with his cutting and sewing? I tried to not think about my stomach rolling.

All of a sudden, I heard the sound of disgust, "Well shoot!" as a tennis shoe hit the wall.

He had accidentally cut up the OTHER good tennis shoe. Now his new tennis shoes both looked worse than the old ones.

I forgot all about my sickness as I laughed hysterically ... All. Day. Long. 

This post is #29 in my series, 31 Days of Life Stories. Hundreds of writers are linking up at the 31 Day Writing Challenge hosted by Crystal Stine. There is a wealth of information on many topics. Go visit and see! I'll be posting under the category "Inspiration and Faith."

31 Days of Life Stories #28 (Carrie's Story)

Today, I thought I'd share a life story that proves that just because something looks the same, it might not be!

The players in this little tale is one of my best friends, Glenda, and her daughter Carrie. Carrie was about 9 years old at the time.

Glenda and her family were out running errands one day. Her husband, Wayne, dropped Glenda and Carrie off at the mall for a quick transaction at Gospeland. He told her he would just stay parked at the curb since she was only going to be inside for a few minutes.

I guess those few minutes turned out to be longer than they thought and Wayne saw his favorite parking spot open up and moved the car there. (Wayne loves to park on the end as far away from other cars as possible).

In the meantime, another brown Monte Carlo, exactly like Wayne and Glenda's, pulled up to the curb in the same spot where Wayne had dropped Glenda off. Wayne turned to Travis (their son sitting in the back seat) and said "Watch, I bet mom and Carrie get in that car."

Sure enough, Glenda and Carrie come out of the mall.  They are talking back and forth and go right to the brown Monte Carlo parked at the curb and get in. There are two people in the back seat, and Carrie talking excitedly CLIMBS over one and sits between them. Glenda slides in the front seat and was talking to Wayne (or so she thought.)

All of a sudden, Carrie says, "Dad how did you change the light on the dashboard clock from green to red?" Glenda turns to Wayne and sees he is not Wayne at all. He is a very young guy!

"Come on, Carrie!" They both climb out of the car and scan the parking lot and see the Monte Carlo that is really their car.

Glenda said later that the people in the Monte Carlo parked at the curb never said one word when Glenda and Carrie got in their car - not even when Carrie climbed over their legs! They were probably in shock. They probably tell their version of this story all the time - "Remember when those two crazies got in our car by mistake?"

It cracks me up to think of Carrie climbing over a stranger's legs to get in the back seat and not even noticing that it was not her brother sitting there. Yet, she was observant enough to notice the color change of a dashboard clock ...

I tease Carrie about this little life story all the time because she is quite the talker even today. I'm pretty sure, though, that she is more observant about the vehicles she gets into now.

Just because something looks the same, it might not be!

This post is #28 in my series, 31 Days of Life Stories. Hundreds of writers are linking up at the 31 Day Writing Challenge hosted by Crystal Stine. There is a wealth of information on many topics. Go visit and see! I'll be posting under the category "Inspiration and Faith."

31 Days of Life Stories - #27

Drive Thru Mishaps - we all have them. Some miscalculate the height of their vehicle and the awning over the drive thru window. When my daughter worked at Hardee's, a truck driver did that once.

Or sometimes there is a misunderstanding at the speaker that has to be worked out. Those are always fun.

Once I had a vehicle where the electric window quit working, so at the drive thru I had to pull the car up far enough to open the door and receive my food. Loved doing that!

But my ultimate fear when approaching a drive thru might be something that few experience. See, I don't know what it is about me, but I have attacks of uncontrollable giggles. It happens at the weirdest times but usually during weddings, funerals or drive thru runs.

It only happens at a drive thru if I have someone in the car with me. If I'm driving by myself I usually am not talking so I can control myself. But if I pull up to a drive thru speaker mid conversation and  somehow I get tongue-tangled and say something incorrectly. Once I hear my own mis-pronounciation it will strike me as funny and then it is all over. The person at the other end will only hear chortling, snickers and wheezing. They will ask me to repeat my order and I will be incapable. Tears will be streaming from my eyes. At this point, the other person in the car will have to lean over me and shout our order into the speaker.

I always pray the line in front is slow so I will have time to compose myself before I have to drive up to the window to receive my order. I try my best to not look the drive thru person in the eye because if I do, the giggles could start up again. 

Most of these struggles happen at Dairy Queen. I don't know why ...

Once I drove up to a Long John Silver's drive thru with my mom and my aunt in the car with me. We always are silly when we get together anyway so I was terrified of the possibilities to humiliate myself. I made it through ordering okay, pulled up to the window and paid. Then breathing a sigh of relief, I jumped back into the conversation as I pulled away from the window ... without the food! It was discovered before I left the parking lot, thank God. Instead of getting back in line like any normal person would, I backed up the car to the drive thru window and laughing like a hyena managed to ask if my food was ready.

Sometimes, I'm afraid to take me anywhere.

This post is #27 in my series, 31 Days of Life Stories. Hundreds of writers are linking up at the 31 Day Writing Challenge hosted by Crystal Stine. There is a wealth of information on many topics. Go visit and see! I'll be posting under the category "Inspiration and Faith."

31 Days of Life Stories #26

Thanks to everyone for the kind words regarding yesterday's life story. It was very tough for me to relive the story of dad's death and write it for you; but, if it would help anyone to take a needed action so they would not have to live with regrets, I would be so glad!

So, today, I feel it's time for a lighter, happier subject. I'm going to tell you about my first car. I've already shared how I scratched Dad's Renault, but as time went on I did become a better driver. My parents decided to trust me with a car since I now had my job at the courthouse and needed wheels to get there.

Dad knew a place near Chicago where he could buy dependable used cars for a good price. He liked to buy them and then bring them down to Florida because he felt he could make money on them. When it came time for me to have a car, his first thought was to head back to Chicago. My opinion on a car was not asked, nor was I invited to go pick it out. I don't know now how much it cost but I would say it would have been about $500 - $1,000. Remember, this was in the seventies!

Anyway, he flew to Chicago, picked out a car, and drove it back. He got in way late that night, so late I was already asleep dreaming of what he had bought. Surely he'd found an old Mustang or even a Beetle! The next morning, I woke up and immediately headed out to see what my new ride looked like.

I ran out to see a Dodge ... Coronet. If you don't know what a Coronet looked like, just think Grandma car. It was clean as a whistle and it had a very important accessory - air conditioning! (A lot of those cars from Chicago didn't have that.) 

I got over my disappointment fast - the main thing was I had wheels AND it was paid for. So many kids nowadays have brand new vehicles and big insurance bills and car payments before they've even graduated high school. I realize sometimes the parents pay for everything, or sometimes they make the child help with payments but what I've noticed those cars seem to always get wrecked. Sometimes old cars get wrecked too ...

The car ran like a top and it wasn't long before I got pretty attached to it. After all, no car payments meant more of my money could go for important things, like new clothes.

One day, I got up early and jumped in the car to head to work. It was a foggy day and the windows where covered with dew. We never had to scrape frost off windows in Florida but you did need to clean the dew off where you could see. But I just ran the wipers on the windshield but left the side windows alone.

I pulled out in front of a pickup going ninety-to-nothing on the highway because I didn't see her out my side window. Bang! The sound of that crash still reverberates in my head when I think about that day. I'm pretty sure I didn't have a seat belt on - this was before it was the law.  I didn't have a cut or a bruise at all, but I did have a heavy heart when I got out and saw my little Coronet. She not only did not look queenly but not even grandmotherly anymore. Her front end was smushed good.

This happened in the days before cell phones, so the lady driving the pick-up walked to a neighbor to call the police and I walked home to face the music. The tears started to roll as I trudged down that famous lane to our house, the one I had walked to catch the bus so many times. I guessed I'd be riding that bus again from now on ... by the time I got to the house I was sobbing. Mom was at work so I had to go wake Dad up and tell him what I had done. I figured he would be mad.

He jerked awake when he heard the sound of my crying. He was not mad at all but just thankful I didn't get hurt. Isn't it always better to come clean right away with what you've done?

He went back with me to the scene of the accident. By that time, the police was there and I had to fill out the accident report. I was charged with failure to yield and had to pay a ticket. 

Dad towed my car home. I requested he turn it around so I wouldn't have to see her mournful face looking at me every day.

In time, Dad got the car fixed (the engine thankfully was in good shape still) and repainted and I was able to drive her again. I was so thankful to have her back! I learned looks were not everything. The little Coronet might not have been beautiful but she was built like a tank!

This post is #26 in my series, 31 Days of Life Stories. Hundreds of writers are linking up at the 31 Day Writing Challenge hosted by Crystal Stine. There is a wealth of information on many topics. Go visit and see! I'll be posting under the category "Inspiration and Faith."

31 Days of Life Stories # 25

Most of the life stories I've been sharing in this series hopefully made you smile or even inspired.  Sometimes, though, life stories are not fun or pleasant but they are part of what shapes us and make us who we are.

One of the defining moments in my life was the day my daddy was diagnosed with cancer.  If you're one of my regular readers, I guess it is no secret how much I adored my dad. I couldn't imagine life without him, so when a diagnosis of cancer was made, I refused to believe it.

I found out that denial is part of the grieving process, as well as anger, and at first I felt he was misdiagnosed. See, he was already better, having spent some time in the hospital! He will be okay. 

Dad needed some prescriptions filled. Since he and mom were so upset and needed to rest, I volunteered to drive to town and get them filled. When the pharmacist saw the script I handed to him, he looked up at me and said, "I'm so sorry. I see your dad is a really really sick man to need these kind of heavy-duty medications."

I didn't know what to say because I still didn't believe he had the C word.

Dad said he was not going to go through chemo. He wouldn't put his family through it. He'd seen "his people" go through that before and it never helped them, and just, No. He said he had about three months to live. (We thought the doctor had told him three months but it was actually his own prediction.) 

It feels like time should stop when tragedy comes, but unfortunately, life goes on in the midst of pain. Vacations end, jobs are waiting, bills need to be paid. And so I hugged my daddy one last time and crying buckets of tears crawled into our car and headed back to Illinois.

Never one to talk on the phone, I began calling him every night just to see how he was. Most of the time he sounded good. And so, I continued to believe it was all a hoax and he would get over it. It was probably pleurisy like he'd had before - not lung cancer.

I mean he was only 55!  He was just too young to die, so much life was ahead.

He went to a healing service and was prayed for to receive healing. Mom asked him if he felt healed. "Well, I hope so," is all he would say.

I knew I needed to go back home and see him, but that would be admitting that it would be for the last time. Somehow I had the crazy idea if I didn't go, he'd still live.

My brother called me and told me I needed to come. "Dad looks really bad, Jerr, I don't think he's going to make it."

I remember that day well because that is the day my dream of Dad not really having cancer died. Tim was one of the most honest people I knew. If he said death was coming, it was inevitable.

In the meantime, I'd been in a bad car wreck. I had a broken arm, stitches in my head, bruises up and down my left side - and choppy hair. (You can read about it here.) I didn't want to go home like that so I scheduled my visit home for a week away.

You can guess what happened, right? He died the day before my flight home.

Here's the part where the anger came in. I was angry at myself for living in a dream world and putting off what I knew I needed to do. I was angry at God because He could have spoken one word of healing and I would still have my daddy.

If someone out there is reading this, and has something they need to do and keep putting it off, I beg you to do it now. Just because YOU think there will be time doesn't mean there will be. Your situation might not involve a terminal illness, but really, none of us know what our last day might be.

I want to tell you this last part:  After that terrible phone call informing me Dad was gone, I went ahead and flew to Florida. We had a visitation for him there and then brought him home to Illinois to be buried. That first night, I slept in the bedroom with mom so she wouldn't be alone. Sometime during the night, I heard Dad's voice in my mind - "I'm not in pain anymore." He spoke in a breathy voice sort of like a sigh. Hearing that, my anger dissipated because really, wasn't that what I prayed for? I had asked for healing and for him to quit coughing and not be in pain. I had just wanted his healing to be on this side of the Journey and not the other side.

I shared this life story with you because I don't want you to live with regrets. I so regret not being there for those final days. Dad knew I loved him and things were okay with us, so at least I don't have that sorrow, but just missing those precious final days eats me up sometimes, even now after 25 years have passed.

Is there something you have put off? Someone you need to see? Something that needs to be made right? Or even, is there something you know you were born to do? Let your life story be one where you did the hard thing and took that first step. No regrets.

This post is #25 in my series, 31 Days of Life Stories. Hundreds of writers are linking up at the 31 Day Writing Challenge hosted by Crystal Stine. There is a wealth of information on many topics. Go visit and see! I'll be posting under the category "Inspiration and Faith."

31 Days of Life Stories #24

Embarrassing stories ... the kind of story so memorable that a good portion of Life Stories include them. It's never funny at the time but it's always fun to go look back at an embarrassing event and realize, it didn't kill you!

For example, I remember so plainly my trip to Tallahassee, FL, with the Future Business Leaders of America club. I was so excited to go! We had a number of students competing in different competitions with other students from across Florida. I ended up winning #2 in the clerical competition. You can read all about it in my post, Second, written for last year's 31 Day Challenge.

Today I'm thinking of a couple incidents on that trip to Tallahassee.  I had purchased an oatmeal colored linen pants and jacket outfit with a red patterned shirt to wear during my time at the conference. Being young and inexperienced, I just threw all my things in my suitcase. When I got to the hotel I was horrified to learn that my bottle of Cover Girl liquid foundation had leaked in my suitcase all over my nice new oatmeal linen jacket. What to do?

Someone suggested I take it to the dry cleaners. I was amazed to learn you could take it to the cleaners one day and it would be ready the very next day! How cool is that? (We didn't buy very many 'dry clean only' garments at my house.) So before the evening session, my girlfriend and I walked a couple blocks to the cleaners and left my precious jacket. I prayed the makeup stains would come out because otherwise I'd have to wear the same outfit both days. Now, of course, I realize that is not such a terrible thing but to my young mind it would have been. Plus I had spent a lot of my hard-earned cash for that jacket. 

The next day, I was there bright and early to pick up my jacket which looked fantastic. I had to pay $10 to get it out, which back in the 70s seemed like a fortune to me, but it was well worth it.

I learned a good lesson - always pack anything liquid in a plastic bag. Also, always take an extra outfit... just in case.

Although inconvenient, that wasn't the embarrassing thing that happened at that trip. 

FBLA provided a nice banquet for the students. Very la-di-da with round tables set up in a circle, linen tablecloths, and servers dressed in matching uniforms. However, they made the mistake of serving us fried chicken. The servers handed us full plates with two pieces of chicken on every plate. Mine had a chicken breast and a wing on it. Not wanting to look low-class, I decided to cut my chicken up with a knife and fork. It was tough to do because my plate was crowded. I kept at it though, cutting chicken with a vengeance, and wouldn't you know it? My knife slipped knocking the wing off my plate. In fact, I had hit the wing with such force that it SAILED out into the middle of the room and landed on the floor.

Conversation ceased as all looked around to see who the crass person was that would throw chicken in the middle of the floor. Now, a sophisticated person would have looked at everyone else, too, and pretended to not know how that chicken got there.

Instead, with flaming cheeks, I got up and went to where the chicken was reposing in all it's flaky greasy glory and picked it up. I brought it back to the table and laid it on a napkin, hoping a server would come and relieve me from my shame.

Not cool. Not cool at all.

What about you? Have you ever embarrassed yourself ... in front of your whole STATE? I'd love to hear about it and find out I'm not alone!

This post is #24 in my series, 31 Days of Life Stories. Hundreds of writers are linking up at the 31 Day Writing Challenge hosted by Crystal Stine. There is a wealth of information on many topics. Go visit and see! I'll be posting under the category "Inspiration and Faith."

31 Days of Life Stories #23

Yesterday, I shared how one person saw a need our family had and got two churches to work together to meet the need.

Actually, there have been many people who have helped us and encouraged us when Jim became ill.  I hesitate to list them because I'd be sure to leave someone out. Many many people gave, sometimes money, sometimes an act of service and often by lending a listening ear.

I remember one time a lady at our church gave me a gift certificate to get my hair done.

I remember a neighbor came by, took out his wallet, and said, "The Lord told me to give my offering to you. How much do you need?" as he was peeling $100 bills off a roll of money.

Another time, a lady came over and said for two months in a row, the bank showed $50 more in her account than she did, so she felt God wanted her to give us the $50.

An anonymous donor left some boxes filled with groceries at the church for us.

Both the church we attended and the church where I worked took special offerings for us.

Family sent checks.

Jim's brother is a pastor and his church paid a utility bill for us - from three states away! 

Even some of our sister-in-law's family sent money and her brother's family even sent Christmas gifts. 

As I look back now, I see how God used His people to supply our need when we were waiting on Jim's first disability check. We were so blessed he was approved the first time he applied; but, it still takes about 6 months to actually receive any money. Since I wasn't working quite full time hours yet, I didn't know how we were going to pay our bills and feed three growing girls but God orchestrated a chorus of giving that really put a song in our lives!

If I were going to put words to that song, it would have phrases that mean "God cared so He sent you," and "He understands my needs," and "I'm not alone." 

I want to end this little Life Story by pointing out that with all the people God directed working TOGETHER we got through a rough patch. Maybe He is speaking to your heart to do a little "something, something" for someone and you think it's not big enough or important enough to be really of help. Go ahead and do it. He will send others to help, too. And the encouragement received by the person you are helping might even be more valuable to them than the gift.

This post is #23 in my series, 31 Days of Life Stories. Hundreds of writers are linking up at the 31 Day Writing Challenge hosted by Crystal Stine. There is a wealth of information on many topics. Go visit and see! I'll be posting under the category "Inspiration and Faith."

31 Days of Life Stories #22

Today, I'm remembering that time when our church men's group fixed our roof.

Back in 1981, Jim and I bought an old 1960's rancher and we were going to fix it up. We did some stuff to the inside but didn't get very far. We didn't touch the outside at all.  The outside had old-fashioned asbestos siding. The roof was okay but by 1999 it looked rough and began leaking.

1999 was also when my husband was hospitalized and then became disabled.

Living on disability can be bleak. There was money enough to survive, THANK GOD, but little extra to take care of things like leaky roofs.

Our house is on one of the main highways in our county and a guy from our home church passed by us all the time. He noticed the roof.

He decided to do something about it.

He went to the men's group at the church he was attending (which happened to be the church where I was employed as their secretary) and shared the need. He also went to the pastor of our home church and explained his idea:  why couldn't the men of both churches work together and put on a new roof for us?

And that is just what happened. Men from both churches gathered at our house on what turned out to be the hottest week of the year and worked together. They scraped off the old roof. They nailed down new shingles. They put in vents on the roof where there had been none. One of the teenage boys volunteered to go up in our attic (which was filled with spray-in insulation) and cut the holes for the vents. 

It was a beautiful thing.

I wish I'd had a digital camera in those days and had taken a picture of those guys. Some were young, some middle aged, one was near 70 at the time, and all were working in that heat. Our pastor only wore white long-sleeved shirts and dark dress pants and there he was, up on our roof, dressed like everyday, scraping shingles.

Our girls wanted to show appreciation so they made each guy a certificate saying thank you and we appreciate you.

Thank you, men of Cornerstone Church and Trinity Assembly of God. Thank you, our friend, for seeing a need and making a solution happen. I told them then I'll never forget what they did for us. I do think of it often; and now, I've told you!

This post is #22 in my series, 31 Days of Life Stories. Hundreds of writers are linking up at the 31 Day Writing Challenge hosted by Crystal Stine. There is a wealth of information on many topics. Go visit and see! I'll be posting under the category "Inspiration and Faith."

31 Days of Life Stories #21

Yesterday, I shared about my first job as a housekeeper / babysitter. I thought I'd share about my subsequent job adventures.

The high school I went to back in the 70s was called a comprehensive school in that it meant vocational as well as academic subjects were taught. Basically the classes were split into two courses of study, one if you were planning on going to college, the other if you were interested in going to work as soon as you graduated.

The area I chose was business. It seems funny now that studying business was not considered on track for college! The school had a program called Cooperative Business Education. In the mornings, you went to school and studied business-related courses and then in the afternoons you were dismissed to go to work. The school helped us find business-related jobs.

My first business job was typing tax returns at May's Tax Service. One of my close friends got a job there, too. We started during tax season and rode the bus after school to the little town where May's was located. I did not like it very much. For one thing, I had learned to type on a new IBM Selectric typewriter. At May's, we had vintage old black manual typewriters. (What I wouldn't give for one now!) My typewriter at school had correct-type. At May's we had typewriter erasers and carbon paper. Needless to say, when tax season ended, I breathed a sigh of relief.

May's was kind of a get-your-feet wet experience. Then the school helped us set up interviews at area businesses for entry-level positions. I chose to apply at the County Clerk's office at the courthouse and I got the job! I loved it there and stayed even after I finished high school. In fact, I have no doubt that had I remained in Florida, I'd be working there until this day.

When I moved to Illinois and got married, my experience at the Clerk's office in Florida helped me to get hired at the County Clerk's office in the county where I now lived.

At both Clerk's offices I did payroll and accounts payable, but in the office in Illinois, marriage licenses were issued. I personally did not do them much, but on occasion, I did issue them.

Life went a different direction for me and I did not stay at the Clerk's office. I subsequently worked for a dentist, a lawyer, and a banker before settling in as a ministry assistant at the church.

Now almost 35 years later, I watched with great interest as a Kentucky Clerk decided to stand on her principles and defy the courts by refusing to issue marriage licenses to same-sex couples. I know people have a lot of opinions on whether or not she should have done as she did. I personally feel proud of her that she chose to stand by her convictions. In today's world, standing up for what you believe is right can be a rare occurrence. 

I do hope I would stand up against popular opinion if my job ever required me to do something against what I believed was the will of God. There are worse things than going to jail!

What about you? Do you think your job would ever require you to do something against your principles? Would you stand up or just quit?

This post is #21 in my series, 31 Days of Life Stories. Hundreds of writers are linking up at the 31 Day Writing Challenge hosted by Crystal Stine. There is a wealth of information on many topics. Go visit and see! I'll be posting under the category "Inspiration and Faith."

31 Days of Life Stories #20

The very first thing I ever did to make money was cleaning house and babysitting an 8 year old for my pastor's wife. I worked really hard at cleaning their house. She had two teenage boys that I wanted to impress with my home-keeping abilities. (My skills at that time were very limited.)

I did very well with cleaning and laundry. However, I don't think I impressed anyone after the kitchen fiasco.

One day, I was going to surprise Sister Hart with cooking something for their dinner. I can't remember after all these years what it was, but it was probably a banana chiffon cake which was about the only thing I knew how to make at the time. I turned on the oven to pre-heat and went outside to check on the laundry. (In Florida, a lot of homes had a laundry room attached to the carport.) I left Kathy, my babysitting charge, watching TV. I was gone awhile, probably hanging up some clothes on the line as well, when Kathy came running outside yelling the house was on fire!

I ran back into the house and saw tons of smoke coming out of the oven. Unbeknownst to me, someone had broiled some meat in the broiler pan the night before and had left the pan sitting in the oven - with a bunch of grease in it. When I opened the oven door, flames were coming out of the pan. I stood there flapping my hands and screaming, "Oh no, what do I do?" Kathy calmly filled a glass with water and pitched it into the oven! 

The flames went out and I was left with a smoky messy kitchen. I totally forgot about making a cake. I closed the oven door and got to work cleaning everything up. I wiped everything down with Lysol. This was back in the day before Lysol had all those fancy fragrances. I figured the smell of Lysol would take away from any smoky smells remaining.

When I left that evening, the kitchen was in apple pie order and I felt good that I had it all cleaned up. However, I didn't mention what happened to Sister Hart. Why bother her when it all worked out?

I had forgotten all about the inside of the oven and the greasy pan ... so later when Sister Hart went to make dinner, she opened that oven door to that mess.

"Kathy, what happened here today?"

"Oh, the house got on fire; but I put it out."

Yeah, I didn't really impress anyone with my home-keeping abilities ... 

This post is #19 in my series, 31 Days of Life Stories. Hundreds of writers are linking up at the 31 Day Writing Challenge hosted by Crystal Stine. There is a wealth of information on many topics. Go visit and see! I'll be posting under the category "Inspiration and Faith."

31 Days of Life Stories #19

My husband and I have never really been lovers of pets. Oh, I love a good dog and cat video on Facebook as well as anyone else. I never would want a pet to be abused; but as far as owning a pet ourselves, no, thank you. I feel I did well to feed my kids and take them to the doctor, let alone have extra money for vet bills or pet food. 

Our daughters thought they should have a pet and constantly begged for one. One day, our youngest brought the subject back up and was asking for a cat. She even went so far as to ask for three cats, one for her and each of her sisters. Finally, I said, "Well, Malia, you need to pray about it. If God wants you to have a cat, He will make a way."

She stopped right then and prayed for pets. How cute!

I went outside to hang up some clothes on the line. I know you are not going to believe this, but Malia cried, "Look Mommy!" as she pointed to our driveway.

Three kittens trotted down our driveway just like they had been dropped out of the sky. Malia ran and gathered them up in her arms, crooning words of love to them.

They had no tags or collars on them - of course - and the girls were sure that God had sent them. They each claimed one.

I think two of those cats lived for a week or two but invariably both got killed on the highway in front of our house.

The third one stayed for quite a while and grew to be a fluffy white cat. But unfortunately, she met her demise as well. She and my car collided one evening as I pulled onto the carport. She ran around the back of the house and I thought maybe I hadn't really hit her after all. But no, she ran around to the back of the house to die.

I felt so bad! It just reinforced my original thoughts. Our family is not meant to have pets.

Did your children ever pray for a pet? Am I the only parent who accidentally ran over a pet? Please tell me I'm not alone!

This post is #19 in my series, 31 Days of Life Stories. Hundreds of writers are linking up at the 31 Day Writing Challenge hosted by Crystal Stine. There is a wealth of information on many topics. Go visit and see! I'll be posting under the category "Inspiration and Faith."

31 Days of Life Stories #18

As my thoughts turn toward Sunday, I think about how faith has played such an important part in our family life. I also think about how it was the women who kept the faith in the beginning.

It's sad but true that a lot of our men in their early years didn't have time for God. BUT they had praying mamas, wives and grandmas so they really didn't stand a chance. It was just a matter of time before they would get right with God.

In my dad's case, his mama prayed for him for a lot of years - along with my mom, of course. He was 34 years old when his mom passed away after a bout of throat cancer followed by lung cancer. (And, she never even smoked!) 

On the last visit they had together, Grandma told Dad she would gladly go through the pain of suffering with cancer again if it meant that all her four of her boys would get right with God.

Grandma's 4 Boys - Dad is the one on the left.

He couldn't forget her words. Talk about conviction! He knew her desire was for him to have a genuine conversion. It was nothing you could go into half-heartedly.

Finally tired of wrestling with the whole thing, on the way to work one day, he surrendered. He turned over his life to God and asked for help. He had to pull the truck over onto the shoulder of the interstate and cry it out.

When it was over, he was a new man. He acted differently. He had new behaviors. Was he perfect from then on? No, he still had to work on his temper. He still struggled with giving up nicotine. Still, it wasn't long before the guys he worked with could tell a change had come over him. Sure they made fun of him when he wouldn't go have a beer with them anymore; but soon they began telling him their troubles and asking him to pray for them.

I was 17 years old when Dad gave his heart to the Lord. I'd have 17 more years with him before God called him home. Dad was determined to live more for God than he ever did for worldly things. I know God can really make a new creation when a person surrenders their will to His, because I saw the evidence firsthand.

I'm thankful for answers to prayers.

This post is #18 in my series, 31 Days of Life Stories. Hundreds of writers are linking up at the 31 Day Writing Challenge hosted by Crystal Stine. There is a wealth of information on many topics. Go visit and see! I'll be posting under the category "Inspiration and Faith."

31 Days of Life Stories #17

Today, I'd thought I'd share about when my sister was born.

The first inkling I had that we might be getting a new family member was an overheard conversation between mother and dad.

I always liked to sit on the side of the bathtub when dad was shaving and talk. He was gone so much that when he was home, I felt this was one way to get some of his attention. I heard the clink of his razor against the sink one day and headed that way to talk to him when I realized mom had gotten there before me. As I was coming up the hall, I heard them.

Mom was saying how embarrassed she felt sitting in the waiting room with all the younger mothers. Dad said something to the effect, "We can't do anything about that now. I'm sure there are older mothers having babies, too."

What??? I stopped in my tracks and considered what those words might mean. I spun on my heel and headed outside. I headed just like a homing pigeon for my Grandma Sybil. Now that we lived in Florida, I only had to walk two blocks to her house.

I told Grandma what I'd heard, so she got to be the one to break the news to me: our family was having a baby.

I'd be 12 and my brother would be 9 when the baby was born. I was ecstatic and immediately wanted a girl. I considered a new baby to be a gift to me. I envisioned all the fun I'd have feeding her, dressing her and playing with her. Tim, of course, wanted a boy. Since Dad was gone so much, he felt left out being the only guy. He hoped a little brother would even things out.

Dad really wanted another baby because he felt he could appreciate being a father much more in his thirties than he could in his twenties. He always said he planned to have Lora.  I guess Tim and I were accidents. :) I think mom was in shock her whole pregnancy.

And so we waited the birth with great anticipation. She would be called Lora Jean, or else he would be Marc Anthony. Dad, however, called the baby Engelbert Humperdinck until the birth.

Oh such excitement the night Lora was born! I was sooo happy but Tim cried because he didn't get a little brother. He cried, "Jerr always gets her way!"  

Later he realized that finally he got to be a big brother and I think he felt better about things.

Lora had big blue eyes so Dad promptly gave her the nickname of Buttons. He always liked nicknames so Tim and I already had one. I was Beady (short for Beetle - why would you call a little girl a beetle?) and Tim was Timmy-Tot.

Those were happy times for sure. Do you remember when your siblings were born (if you had any)? Did your parents give you nick-names?

This post is #17 in my series, 31 Days of Life Stories. Hundreds of writers are linking up at the 31 Day Writing Challenge hosted by Crystal Stine. There is a wealth of information on many topics. Go visit and see! I'll be posting under the category "Inspiration and Faith."

31 Days of Life Stories #16

Recently, the topic at a place I hangout, The Loft, was on mentoring. I've been blessed to have many mentors in my life and definitely one was my Granny Violet.

I've written about her before in different posts including a piece called Wonder Granny, but she was larger than life to me and so I have more stories about her.

Before I was married, I lived with her for about 3 months.  Her little house was really open-concept. There were no bedroom doors anywhere! I often heard her praying through out the night. Some of my cherished memories are listening to her call on Jesus for family and friends. She taught me to call on the name of Jesus.

Granny had the gift of hospitality. Her greatest joy was cooking a big meal and having people over. She always had at least two main dishes, a bunch of sides, and a lot of times, there would be two desserts as well. She would often be worn out after all that cooking and have to lay down awhile before her guests arrived. I'd say, "Granny why do you make so much food? You wouldn't be so tired if you cut down on the number of dishes you are making." She'd always say, "I like to cook one time and then eat on the 'leave overs' the rest of the week." (I followed in her foot steps and make too much food to this day.)

But I think the truth was, if she had left over food, first she could give some away, and then also, there would be plenty to have on other nights and invite somebody up to eat and "Scrabble."

Oh yes, she loved to play Scrabble. Aunt Norma was her favorite scrabble partner but she always wanted me to come, too.  Also, if any of her Du Quoin relatives would come down and play, it was a red-letter day in her life. Aunt Norma often won the games which would aggravate granny's competitive spirit, but she still wanted to play all the time, win or lose. It was nothing to her to stay up until midnight playing.

Granny also loved talking on the telephone, She had certain ladies she called everyday. She called me everyday as well, and had the knack for timing her calls for just when I had dipped a toe in the bathwater! I don't know how she knew, but she always did.

She was also the kind of person that hated to miss a phone call. If she heard the phone ringing and she couldn't answer it in time, she'd spend the rest of the day calling people and saying, "This is Violet, I couldn't get to the phone in time, did you call me?"  If she called me and asked that question, if I said no, then she'd say, "Well, why didn't you call me? I always have to do all the calling." I'm ashamed to admit she was right! I didn't inherit her love of talking on the phone.

I've often wondered how she would have adjusted to cell phones. I think she would have loved them to talk on but she probably would never have texted anyone.

The thing is, she was interested in people's lives and they always responded to that interest. She knew what they were going through and who all their relatives were. If we took granny with us on a trip, inevitably she would run into someone, strike up a conversation and find out that she either knew their relatives or knew someone who did.

In fact, I think up in glory, she is having a wonderful time because now she has unlimited time to get to know each person she sees. I'm sure there is a lot of storytelling and sharing going on! And should there be any heavenly Scrabble games? Why she will be right in the middle of them!

This post is #16 in my series, 31 Days of Life Stories. Hundreds of writers are linking up at the 31 Day Writing Challenge hosted by Crystal Stine. There is a wealth of information on many topics. Go visit and see! I'll be posting under the category "Inspiration and Faith."