The Cross in my yard

Every Christmas we decorate our home with lights.  Should I say that I decorate our home with lights. Tim has helped me the last couple of years and the girls attempt to help.  I am really over the entire light thing, but the girls ask me every year to put them up. Just face it, lights are simply pretty to look at.  So I wanted to do something a little bit different last year.  I decided to put up cross in the yard so everyone that passed would know that in our home we knew the "reason for the season." I thought it was a wonderful idea.  until my daughter told me that was totally cheesy.  Despite what my eldest child thought I put the cross up anyway. I decorated it with white lights.  It was so pretty.  I placed it where everyone could see it.  After the season the cross stayed in the yard but has been moved to mow the grass  or to spray round up.  Now it sits behind some bushes on the other side of the yard.  I noticed the other day that it had rags hanging on it from a washed car, "REALLY" , who would do that.  To me  the cross which is only a symbol represents our faith.  Which represents Who and what I believe in. Though it is only a symbol it should be treated with respect just as we should treat our savior.  I realized I was just as guilty for doing the same by moving it around the yard and hiding it behind the bushes because I didn't want it in the yard anymore. So all of this made me think.  I am guilty of bringing Christ out for the special occasions such as Christmas and Easter.  I use him  when I need something, like a drying rack for a dirty old rag.  He deserves much better than that because of what he did for us.

All Cracked Up

 I went to the store to buy groceries for the week.  A typical thing that everyone does at least once.  Yes even the man of the house.  I think my husband has been in the store at least once. While I was in the store I rounded the corner to find myself by the milk and eggs, both which I needed.   I picked a  carton of eggs and did what?  You know what I did.  I opened it to see if any were cracked,  all of us do that.then  I placed them in the basket them made one more stop at the meat counter to buy some roastbeef.  Then I headed to the cash register to check out.  I place all the items on the belt.  Then here come my eggs.  The cashier opened the carton and said " you have two cracked eggs."  I replied "thats ok." and you would have thought I told her she had three eyes.  She replied " what?, you dont want a new carton?"  "No, I just take those."  She even told the other cashier I was ok with having cracked eggs.    I headed home and took the two eggs out and used them like I would use any of them.  They still worked the same believe it or not.  Well of course all of this started the wheels turning in my head.  Dont we treat people the same.  We dispose of them because they are not like the ones we are use too.  They have some flaws or their immediate appearance it is not what we are use too.  So we basically dispose of them in our own ways.    We avoid them or we gossip about them. 
Gods desire is that we love all people no matter how differnet they are from us.  I have to admit it is not the easiest thing to do in the world but that is Gods desire.  He wants all of us to be with him in heaven one day.   I know that I am not perfect.  I have so many holes and cracks that if I were a glass I could not hold water.  God loves many anyway.  I could only hope that I can love people like God loves me.

What a Week

It is very hard to believe  I had a week like I just had.  One week ago today I lost my father suddenly. I was sitting in church when my phone rang.  Not to interrupt the service  I quickly turned it off.  I did not recognize the number so I did not return the call.  On my way home my brother  called and gave me the bad news.  That was the moment when my world was turned upside down but in the midst of being turned around I found that I was stronger than I ever thought I could be.  I cried really hard the first day then my strong willed self took over and told the cry baby to get out of the way. Something my daddy taught me. He taught me to be tough.  I can remember the day he told to punch a girl in middle school because she was picking on me.  I did and I was so proud to call him to tell him I won. I couldn't let things get in my way and now I wanted him to be proud of his girl taking care of business.. I had to start making decisions that I never made before and had to talk to more people than I every thought I would.. I walked to the casket and make sure he was perfect.  I tucked his smokes in his pocket and gave him his  waffle house coffee cup that he would need. Each guest at the wake was greeted by a hug and somewhat of a smile.  I didn't shed a tear until they folded the flag that draped across the casket,  I felt so guilty for not crying when everyone around was sobbing.  I came home and collapsed on the couch.  Exhausted but unable to sleep. After seeing my sister off and my brother and sit in the silence of my home my heart let go finally.  The cry baby pushed the strong willed out of the way and said have at it.  So the tears came.   I am grateful for all the good times we had.

I see more of him in me the older I get.  He taught me how to mow grass.  I love to mow grass just like him. He taught me how to throw a softball.  He would say " No girl of mine is going to throw like a girl".  Ask my girls how I throw.,  He taught me to punch.  Don't mess with me or you might just get hurt.. ha ha.  He always made me feel safe when he was around because he was tough.  He taught  me how to laugh,  Always acting like a kid.   There are so many things I cant list them all.  But I do know that I didn't tell him I love him enough,  I wished I could tell him one more time but I cant.  So I have learned to not wait til tomorrow because tomorrow might never come,

xoxoxo Daddy

Bengi

I went to bed and woke up three hours later tonight with a horrible stomach ache.  So I got up and drank some milk and just started piddling around the house until the medicine kicked in. Then I heard the familar footsteps coming down the hall towards the kitchen. No, it wasnt a human companion it was my furry little buddy  Bengi.  Let me describe him too you.  He weighs about 12 pounds, big round brown eyes that make your heart melt and he can be a big fuzz ball when his poodle type fur grows out.  We got him when Karlie was in the first grade.  I was looking for a companion for my yorke Max.  My friend told me that someone found a yorkie type dog and was looking for a home for him.  I called the man and he said I could have him if I wanted.  When I got there, much to my surprise he looked nothing like a yorkie.  He was groomed and Mr Larry said he was trained.  So I brought him home.  He attached to me like we were glued at the hips.  We do have our little routine.  When I get up he gets up.  If I take a nap he takes a nap.  Where ever I go he goes.  I think that is a song.  Tim told me when I go on a trip Bengi refuses to lay in the bed.  He stares out the window waiting for me to get home.   He is so excited when I do walk through the door he is always is the first to greet me after a longs day work.  He runs up to me and jump all over until I greet him. If I dont he will follow me around waiting patiently for a hello from mom.  He loves me more than I can imagine.
Dont let someone touch "hit me" or he will be all over them.  One day Tim was playing around and I yelled.  Bengi jumped on the couch and started barking and biting at Tim.  I think if he could he would do anything for me. Why because I loved him first or because I gave him a home.  I think he knows he has a home too when I put his collar on him.  After his bath he will hold still while I put his collar back on.  It is almost like he know he is home when that is on him.  Believe me it is not all love on my part some days.  There are days when he gets in the garbage, or has an accident on the floor or  rolls in something totally digusting.  Like the time he rolled around in rotten duck eggs.  That day there was not a good day for love.  This reminds me of my relationship with God.  He loved me first so I should love him and be devoted to him because he gave it all to me.  A place I will call home one day and he saved me from life in hell.  He sent his ONLY son to die for me.  So I owe him my life.  Just like I saved Bengi from being on the streets.  He knows who saved him, so shouldnt we realize who saved us.

ALL Together

Lately I have been in a funk.  I have not been able to write anything.  I start to and I go completely blank.  So I have started to run again and get going and maybe my brain will start working again. Today when I could have slept in I was determined to get up a tad early and get going.  I put on my running shoes and headed out the door.  Really? was it 90 plus degrees already at 8 am?  I began to sweat before I even started.  This is going to be a fun one.  So I set off .  I didn't get to far before something caught my eye.  You see I am a little ADHD.  I looked down at what looked like a big hug spider crossing the road.  A mountain in the eyes of the spider.  At closer look it was a bunch of ants carrying a dead cricket to their nest. You see  one little aunt could not do the job all by his self.  He or she had to have the assistance of others to do the job.  I watched my church come together this past two weeks to accomplish a task.  VBS took place.  First all of us had to work together to decorate the church and then it all of us the teach the children about God.  It was such a good feeling to see everyone working together.  Too many times we caught up in our own little world and we leave someone else to do the job.  I was so proud of the ones who stepped up to the plate and get VBS going when we thought there would not be  a VBS.  I commend all the teachers who came in from work every night and loved on little children and taught them about the most important thing in the world.  If we worked together like this all the time there would be no telling what height our Church could reach.  Just like the ants carrying the cricket across the road. 

Man in the Mirror

Ever you watched or heard a song and said "really like that song"  I LOVE music.  As long as I remember I have enjoyed listening to music.  I like all types.  There are days that I am in a country music mood but there are days that I even enjoy listening to rap. When I really need to wind down for the day I turn on classical.  Drivers really hate me when I listen to that because I tend to drive a lot slower.  Police officers love it when I listen to something that grabs my soul because I drive much faster.  That is when I really need to set my cruise control.  One of my favorite memories of growing up was Saturday cleaning day.  My mom would crank up some great music on the record player and  we clean as we listened.  My love of country came from listening to the Oak Ridge Boys on 8-track.  Now I am telling my age.  I the age of eight I got to go see the KING OF ROCK AND ROLL. How cool was that. Over the years I have been blessed to sing in choirs and even play in a symphony.  I am now blessed to be singing at my church.  A gift that God has truly blessed me with.  I am lucky to be singing with some amazing musicians.  I thank the Lord for that group everyday.  So, I really need to get back to the point.  I get side-tracked to easy.  Since I listen to various music.  Lately I have been listening more to the words instead of just the beat.   So a song that is really speaking to me lately is by Michael Jackson " Man in the Mirror".   The lyrics are so powerful.  We all need to take a look  at ourselves and reach out to those in need.  We don't have to go far to find a need.    Just look next door,  down the street or across town. I am guilty of pretending I don't see the needs. I am going to start with the Man in the Mirror because I want to make a change for once in my life. 

Oh by the way I wish I could sing that song in my church, but it would really freak my church out.  Especially if it was sang with soul it needs to be sung with