New Mexico & Colorado 2016 summer vacation

Shawnee High School Oklahoma 45th class reunion 2016

REUNION SURPRISE

I have written journal entries in the past in which I have reflected on my high school class reunions, college homecomings, and sorority reunions. All have given me opportunities to look back on good times and some not-so-good times, friendships from long ago, and my own journey through life. Exercises like this are usually good for the soul and cause me to ponder my past and my future. What lessons have I learned, if any? What do I want to accomplish in the months and years ahead? Am I satisfied with the status quo or ready to make some changes?



This past weekend, I attended my 45^th high school class reunion. Even though I was on the planning committee and we worked really hard to put together a nice event, I didn’t really know how it would turn out. The saying comes to mind, "The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry." No matter how carefully a project is planned, something may still go wrong. Fortunately, it seems that most everyone had a good time so I can safely say our mission was accomplished.



What I didn’t plan for was my personal reaction to the reunion events. First, I was overwhelmed by the large attendance at the Friday night mixer. I was anticipating a low turnout but was shocked when I saw the parking lot was full and the rooms were so packed, we had trouble moving about. Even though we ran out of food at the buffet table, people lingered, posed for photographs, ordered drinks, and enjoyed the evening. I was thrilled beyond words. Much to the annoyance of many, I insisted on giving hugs and made it a point to make everyone feel welcomed and appreciated for making the effort to come.



On Saturday morning, a group met at the old high school for a tour. I must say, this was one of the highlights of my reunion experience. The doors were opened for us and we were free to roam throughout the old building. I saw my old locker on the first floor near the cafeteria (which looked very small, by the way). I noticed the old green tiles on the walls, the same door and window frames, the stairs, and the principal’s office (a place in which I was never invited to visit as a student!). It literally felt like I had stepped back in time. Suddenly, as everyone around me was chattering and laughing, my eyes filled with tears. The lump in my throat began to swell and I had to fight back the tears. No one else seemed to be affected so I turned away and hid my emotions so that I wouldn’t embarrass myself, as I had done so many times 45 years ago as an awkward teenage girl. Once I got myself together and joined up with the others, I had fun remembering the classrooms, the teachers, and so much more.



From there, we went to the old junior high building where even more memories were pulled from the deep recesses of my mind. Memories dating back 50 years weighed heavy on my heart and once again, tears filled my eyes.



I had lunch at the best hamburger joint in the world, Hamburger King, with James and Lorna, my friend since 4^th grade. Several other classmates from my elementary school were also having lunch at the same time and sat in booths around us. I felt so comfortable and it truly was like going home again.



The Saturday night event was a lot of fun, too. I enjoyed catching up with friends, dancing like a maniac, and especially enjoyed having a photograph made with my elementary school classmates. As I made the rounds and said my good-byes, I told everyone, "I’ll see you at the 50^th, if not before!" But even as I said those words, my mind was thinking about the memorial wall filled with photographs of friends who have passed on.



We left the reunion and I was, on the one hand, excited about the success of the past two days. But my heart was breaking as I thought that some of us will never be together again.



Some may wonder why I am involved in planning and hosting class reunions. I assure you it is not for drawing attention to myself. Maybe it is because of my personality type which thrives on honest and authentic relationships. I care about people’s feelings, I believe that life has meaning and I try to make a difference in the world. I am affectionate, I want to live in harmony and I hate conflict. I want to make people feel special and that they are important to me. This is who I am and how I express myself.

Even though I planned and organized and thought out every possibility for potential disaster, I was surprised and delighted when the reunion weekend happened without a hitch. Today, I am emotionally exhausted but so thankful I had the opportunity to spend time with people I truly care for. And yes, I’ll see you at the 50^th, if not before!

A NO-COST PRESCRIPTION

Everyone in my age bracket knows, sometimes through personal experience, that prescription drugs can be very expensive. But, no matter the cost, if you or a loved one is ill and the prescription is needed, there is nothing that will stop you from doing whatever it takes to get the medication. Your life, or theirs, could depend on it.



There is a prescription, however, that requires no written script, no co-pay, comes with no list of side-effects which are potentially worse than the ailment, and no reason to max out your charge card. It won’t necessarily be filled at Walgreen’s or your local pharmacy and it definitely does not require pre-approval from the insurance company. This prescription is free to all who are heartbroken, emotionally exhausted, suffering from loneliness, and truly in need of a miraculous cure.



You’ve probably guessed that I’m not referring to a little pill that is easily popped into the mouth or a serum injected into your arm. My recommended prescription for ailments of the heart and soul is just a small gesture that requires two open arms to embrace another and three little words – a hug and "I love you". Oh, you might think I’m being naive about the seriousness of depression, anxiety, or any life-threatening disease, or flippant in regard to the life-saving attributes of a miracle drug, but, I can personally attest to the healing power of a warm hug and words of love whispered over me.



I dare say ALL of us as parents have experienced disappointment, sadness, and utter despair when our adult children are faced with insurmountable problems – health, financial, relational, the list continues. When our kids were young, if there was a boo-boo or a problem, we fixed it. But, as our kids become adults, sometimes we just can’t fix it, and it hurts to the core to have to admit it. The problem can be too big, overwhelming, and difficult. It’s just beyond our control.



Recently, my daughters have both suffered devastating blows. It wasn’t because they did something wrong or made bad decisions, it was just life throwing them curve balls. I am proud to say that they have handled themselves as strong, Christian, young women in dealing with their situations. Our entire family has been involved throughout all of this and in all honesty, it has strengthened our familial bond.



As I was caught in a moment of weakness, I had one hell of a pity party. I cried, I moped, and I lashed out at God and asked why He hadn’t shown up to save the day. But in my ignorance, I wasn’t really looking for Him, as He was, most definitely, working in both of my girls’ lives. A friend came to me, not knowing the troubles in my life, and she shared words of wisdom, gave me a huge hug, and whispered words of love in my ear. It was the exact prescription I needed for my broken heart and, most importantly, helped me to see what my role as a mother should be.

　

And, perhaps the best medicine of all came from a text from one of my daughters. She said, "Just wanting to let you know....I love u mom!". There it was again! The prescription I needed to heal and restore my own emotional health and it came from my own child! I must say that I am absolutely amazed at the ways God tends to us when we find ourselves desperate for help. Even though I’m not sure how this is all going to be resolved for my daughters, my trust in God has been renewed.


I share this with you to encourage anyone who needs a miracle to first look to God who is the Great Physician. There you will find peace that heals all wounds. And lastly, if you know someone who is hurting and suffering and feels life crushing down, open your arms and give them a hug and, if you dare, whisper words of love in their ear. I promise you they will feel the healing power of a no-cost prescription that you can freely give to another.

Healdsburg, Sonoma County, CA, day trip to wine country 2016

Arkansas State Parks -- Mt Magazine & Petit Jean -- July 2016

Blue Skies Ahead

Having lived in Oklahoma my entire life, I’ve seen many storms. Sometimes, alerts are issued days in advance with cautions of inclement weather, however, as was the case just yesterday afternoon, the appearance of a rogue storm cloud surprises everyone, even the meteorologists and TV forecasters.

After the wind, rain, and hail have wreaked havoc on personal property, evaluation and clean up begin. Often times the damage is catastrophic but most storms are minor events with only a few broken tree limbs, toppled trash cans, and sloppy mud puddles. Generally, it is nothing too serious and within a few minutes of picking up debris, everything returns to normal. For most Oklahoma natives, these storms are typical of our physical world.



But, as most know, there are also "storms" of a personal nature. Recently, I experienced such a storm. In my little world, the skies were sunny and there were no menacing clouds in the distance. All was well. Then, a few "raindrops" plopped on my nose but I blissfully ignored the telltale signs of a storm brewing. Suddenly, thunder rumbled and lightning flashed and I found myself in the middle of torrential rains and angry winds. My emotions and self-confidence were tossed about like cheap patio furniture on the deck. As I have done many times in the past, I prayed to God and held on tight.

Finally, my "storm" passed, the winds calmed, and blue skies returned to my world. As I took a deep breath of relief, I noticed the air was clean and fresh and I thanked God for His presence and protection.



I confess, there have been more than a few times, in a personal crisis, I have been a mess. I have worried and fretted and my anxiety has taken control. I have become physically ill and even depressed. In this situation, when the first signs of trouble presented, I panicked for just a minute, but then, I immediately cried out for help. God heard me. I rode out the storm with self-assurance and remarkably, the outcome was not as devastating. I had a sense of knowing exactly what needed to be done, what needed to be said, and with confidence as I’ve never known before, I got down to business and dealt with the situation. Honestly, I was a little surprised that resolution came so quickly!



As I was working through the problem, a verse came to mind. It was spoken by one of my favorite Bible characters, Joseph, who was mistreated by his brothers and unfairly blamed for many terrible things he didn’t commit. Joseph said, "As for you, you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good in order to bring about this present result, to preserve many people alive." (Genesis 50:20) In effect, if harm and destruction come for me, my husband, or my family, I know that God can take the bad thing which was meant to be hurtful, and He can make it into something good. No one on earth can do that for me!



Just from living in Oklahoma, I have learned a lot about weather and storms. And, likewise, just from living these 60+ years, I have learned a lot about weathering personal storms. I was reminded through this last experience that I must be vigilant, I must be prepared, and most of all, I must call upon the One who will protect me. And when blue skies return and a rainbow stretches far across the heavens, I will thank God for taking what was meant for evil and making something good of it.

Garden Tour Summer 2016

NATURE PROVIDES THE PERFECT SANCTUARY

This is the time of year when I have a love/hate relationship with my garden. I hate the overwhelming task of pulling weeds, trimming bushes, and gathering dead leaves. It is back breaking and hard work. My hands cramp, I sweat, and it’s guaranteed that I will be sore and stiff for days to follow. But on the other hand, I love the end result. After many hours of toil and trouble, I can sit on the deck and enjoy the blooming plants, watch the bees and butterflies flitting from one blossom to the next, and listen to the sounds of wind chimes tinkling in the breeze. If I could sketch Heaven on earth, this would be the picture.


I am more myself in my garden that anyplace else on earth. I’m dressed for the occasion with a big, old tee shirt and shorts, no makeup, hair pulled back in a ponytail, and I smell as bad as I look. It would be a crying shame to stick in ear buds with music pulsing through my body so that is not an option. To do so would defile the tranquil environment I have created and anyways, my 60's music is reserved for listening in my car. So, it’s just me and the peace and quiet of my little garden.


It is on my knees with my hands digging in the dirt that I have contemplated the condition of the world or situations at work. I have spent many hours thinking about my family, a difficult situation a friend is dealing with, or a problem I’m trying to solve. And on many occasions, God and I have had some interesting conversations. There was a time many years ago, my heart was heavy with concern for one of my daughters. As I was digging in the dirt, the Lord spoke to me as clear as a bell about the situation. I responded out loud, "Lord, no. Can’t do it. No way." And again, deep in my soul, He repeated the words exactly as the first time. It was one of the most riveting experiences in my life and it happened in the garden.


Today, I count it a blessing to have the strength and desire to physically get on my hands and knees and tend to God’s creation. The rewards I receive are far greater than what I expend in time and energy. I thank God that He placed in me a passion for nature and spending time outdoors.
Song of Solomon 2:11-13, is beautiful poetry written by a man to his lover. I like to think of it as God’s poetry, written just for me.


"For behold, the winter is past,
The rain is over and gone.
The flowers have already appeared in the land;
the time has arrived for pruning the vines,
And the voice of the turtledove has been heard in our land.
The fig tree has ripened its figs,
And the vines in blossom have given forth their fragrance.
Arise, my darling, my beautiful one,
And come along!"

GET YOUR MIND OUT OF THE GUTTER

GET YOUR MIND OUT OF THE GUTTER

In the past seven days, we have received about 3 ½" of rain on the north side of Oklahoma City. It is a welcome sight. That is, if there’s not a low spot in your yard resulting in a lake suitable for a one-man kayak!



Water is standing about four inches deep next to our house and, for a couple of reasons, it won’t drain properly. It has been an issue since we bought the house but we never dealt with it because we’ve been in a drought and there’s been little rain. Foolish or not, our theory is, "If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it." Well, it’s broken so we are now forced to do something about it.



On Sunday, we received a deluge and water quickly pooled in the low spot. Rain was pouring out of the sides of the gutter and nothing was coming out of the down spout. That was the first indication that there was a problem. In hasty ignorance, we determined that a French drain probably needs to be installed and extensive landscaping done to remedy the problem.



Knowing that a French drain can be expensive, in the alternative, James first decided to clean out the gutters. It was long overdue. By hand, he pulled out huge clumps of wet leaves and small sticks. It was a disgusting and stinky mess. At one point, he pulled out what appeared to be an old rotting newspaper. Aha! Here was the culprit! The newspaper had created a dam, water backed up and spilled over the sides of the gutter, thus creating our private, manmade lake.



By the time James finished, he was almost as dirty as the gutter. I sprayed him with the hose and he went straightaway to the shower. As I washed the ladder and my tools and pulled off my muddy boots, I thought, as my mother always says, "There has to be a lesson here." Ah yes, there is definitely a metaphoric lesson to gain from this nasty dilemma.



We’ve all heard the saying, "Get your mind out of the gutter." I witnessed first hand to what depths a neglected gutter will take you. Can the same be true for the condition of a neglected mind? What I put into my mind can either be productive or destructive. Fill it with wet leaves, mud, and a rotting newspaper (hatred, prejudice, criticism, and negativity) and you’ll find yourself with a mind that ceases to function properly. If any thought evolves, followed by unfortunate words, it will smell and look pretty disgusting. A potential disaster could result in hurt feelings, anger, and even loss of a relationship. All because time and attention was not given to maintaining a valuable and healthy mind.



I don’t pretend for one second to be pure in thought and mind. To be honest, I’ve had plenty of moments that I’m glad no one could read my mind. However, our exercise of cleaning the gutters was a clear reminder to me to be more cautious the next time I feel the urge to entertain negativity in my mind, or worse yet, spew forth ugly and painful words. It’s not a pleasant task to remove the debris that clogs the mind. But it is a worthy and, quite honestly, a necessary endeavor.



In the clever words of Mark Twain, "Better to keep your mouth shut and appear stupid than to open it and remove all doubt." Take it from one who knows, the best way to handle that potential for disaster is to keep your gutters clean!

DECLUTTER

Declutter. Does that word send shivers of dread down your spine or bring on a thrill equal to that of finding a $20 bill in the Walmart parking lot? I suppose "decluttering" is associated with Spring cleaning and it’s no coincidence, Spring officially arrived just this past Sunday. This obviously explains why I’ve seen the word "declutter" used ad nauseam over the past several days. (Ironically, some dictionaries don’t recognize "declutter" as a word! Even spell check offers no suggestions!)


The good news is that through the power of suggestion, I have been bitten by the "declutter" bug and have tackled our home with a vengeance. I have made one haul to Goodwill and am working on a second. Next up are my closets which need some sweet attention. It’s time to cull out the items I no longer want or need and pass them along.

Declutter. Simplify. In my opinion, it’s a good thing. Less things to dust, less things for my kids to deal with sometime down the road, and less to move around to make room for more stuff. Less really is more.

As I considered all the things in my house to clear out, a thought flashed through my mind. What else do I need to declutter in my life? How about negative thoughts? Oh yes, I can definitely get rid of those. How about feelings of fear, low self-esteem, insecurity? They, too, are going right out the door. Figuratively speaking, I am arming myself with the utility broom, sweeping all that garbage into a pile, and tossing it into the trash. I feel better already!

Furthermore, I would be remiss in addressing the clutter in my spiritual house, as well. What things have overcrowded my heart? Is it apathy and a lack of compassion? Could it be neglecting to be grateful, praying for others, or nurturing my relationship with Jesus Christ? These are questions on which I will meditate and address with brutal honesty.

Decluttering a closet, a house, or a garage, can be a frightening task. It may seem so overwhelming and exhausting that defeat sets in before the first toss has been made. This could be the time to call in reinforcements – a friend, a family member, or in extreme circumstances, a professional.

The same is true for decluttering your thought life or your heart. Be brave and ask someone you trust to help you. Two heads are better than one (four hands are better than two) when it comes to a difficult chore. And, when the clutter has been dealt with, and all is tidy and rearranged, a gentle peace and calmness will move in.

One Irish forebear, Statesman Edmund Burke said, "Good order is the foundation of all good things." Good order, I agree, is a worthy aspiration.

However, the wisest advice comes from Isaiah 32:17-18, "And the work of righteousness will be peace, and the service of righteousness, quietness and confidence forever. Then my people will live in a peaceful habitation, and in secure dwellings and in undisturbed resting places." That, my friend, is the picture of a decluttered life.

 

FIFTEEN MINUTES TO SAY . . .

I suppose I have way too much time on my hands. Allow me to explain.



As most know, I am a daily journaler. I keep a simple diary filled with mundane events of the day, the weather, a funny comment, rants about the traffic on the parkway, or crazy thoughts and scatter-brained ideas. Since the beginning of the year, I have tracked my meals, weight, and exercise in an attempt to get healthier. My daily entry always ends with a note of thanks or a blessing from God.



This morning as I was working on a journal page, I had a strange thought. What if I had exactly fifteen minutes to write whatever I needed to before my soul was called to Heaven? Okay, I know it’s a morbid thought but honestly, the thought was so profound that I really began to think about it.



Some people might cringe at the thought of having to actually write something, by hand, in fifteen minutes time. And I do know of some, I’m not mentioning any names, whose penmanship is so messy that no one would be able to read it even if they did take the time. But writing, in cursive, is a pleasure for me and now considered to be a dying art, so just on a whim and in 15 minutes (actually, it took 20 minutes, I timed it), I wrote my thoughtful and "final" words.



Because my thoughts are so personal, I won’t share my writings for all to read. But, I will say that my carefully chosen words were addressed to the most important people in my life: my mother, my daughters, James, my grandson, and my sister. And, if your name didn’t make the list, please don’t be upset. I just ran out of time. That will be a project for another time.



Maybe, taking fifteen minutes to jot down a few words of love and thanks is just too daunting, too time-consuming, and too silly, for many people. But for me it was a good exercise. It has caused me to really think about the people I love and why. And I wonder, have I told them lately?



And what about you? When was the last time you told your loved ones what is in your heart? Do they know how much you really love and care about them? May I suggest taking 15 minutes (or more) and with an open heart and pen in hand, write them a love note. It might be the best gift they will ever receive.

2015 Scrapbook Flip Thru

A Beautiful Mess

 For the past year, I have written in a journal everyday. My first journal, or diary as I called it back then, was started in the 4^th grade. It was small with a lock and key so that I could write privately about my life without my mother or sister reading my secrets. I don’t have the little diary now but I wish that I did. I’m curious what I thought was important enough to write about as a ten-year-old girl.

 

These days, I have adopted a style of journaling that incorporates writing and also simple artwork, embellishments, stamps, washi tape, colored pencils, and markers. A verse that speaks to me on any given day will be added to my journal. I love quotes so if I find one that catches my interest, I will jot it down. As I read a magazine or newspaper and find a worthy article or picture, I will cut it out and paste it in my journal. Often times, one word will jump off the page and I will grab my scissors, cut it out, and place it in my journal.

 

Yesterday, while browsing through a magazine, I saw these words, "A Beautiful Mess". There was something so intriguing, mesmerizing, humorous, and curious about those words. I didn’t want to forget them so I immediately cut it out and pasted it in my journal. Prompted by those three little words, the following is my journal entry:

"A Beautiful Mess" – those words are the perfect definition of my life. Believe me, it’s true. There have been many times which can be described, without hesitation, as chaotic and difficult for a variety of reasons. To be brutally honest, most of my messiness comes from broken or failed relationships. An admission of guilt is not something that I enjoy, however, I do know that in most circumstances, the blame falls squarely on my shoulders. Ouch! A confession like that really hurts. But, I believe in just being honest about who I am and admitting that I have made mistakes and, no surprise, I have suffered the consequences.
 

So, knowing all this, one would have every reason to ask, "Can a messy and fractured life be beautiful?" The answer comes in God’s Word, Isaiah 43:4a, "Since you are precious in my sight, since you are honored . . . I love you." Yes, even though I have made bad choices, flawed and failed, God tells me I am precious. He forgives and says that He loves me. And the good news is that He can take my messy life and make something beautiful of it. God sees me as "a beautiful mess".



My perspective about relationships and life has matured. I am less self-centered and more thoughtfully focused on those who are important to. It’s taken me longer to get there than it should have but I do believe that God has been patient and has allowed me time to get my act together and clean up some of my messes.



Journaling has proven to be a valuable tool in my spiritual and emotional journey. Through my writing, I have honestly expressed my thoughts and feelings and have grown in the process. In retrospect, I admit to failure but place my trust in the One who knows me, forgives me, and loves me, even in my beautiful mess.