How I Overtook an Intruder With the Word of God

The mundane task of stripping my bed turned exciting this week. 
I pulled off the heavy bedspread onto the floor when I noticed him and let out a scream.  Tom ran to my side.  The lizard paused at the bedside, but ran faster than Tom’s grasp and fled under the bed.
“He’s a baby lizard and won’t hurt you or crawl on you,” Tom warned.  But I secretly prayed for some divine help to catch him.
Early the next morning I sat perched on my bed with my fuzzy throw blanket, cup of coffee on the side table and Bible on my lap. The lizard crawled up on the blanket and peered at me atop the pages of my Bible.  I remember I screamed and my hands flew in the air.  The Bible and the blanket fell to the floor.  Tom bolted into the room, this time faster and focused.
“Check under the Bible fanned open on the floor!”  Sure enough, the lizard ventured out to be easily captured this time from underneath the opened pages.  That’s how I overtook the intruder in my home with the Word of God.
God's Word is a …

The Tattoo Debate

My mother couldn’t believe it when I called her on the phone and told her about the pretty, small-stemmed red rose I chose for an imprint just off my shoulder in the famous tattoo studio close to where I stayed in San Francisco.  She muttered something negative about that sailor’s influence meaning Tom, of course.  This took place many years ago.

Maxine is right, in fact, that years later those once cute tattoos lose their appeal.  Last year, Tom introduced me to a tat artist in our small town who told me he could not remove what looked today like a glob of ink on my back but he promised a new design in that spot.  He drew a white daisy, my favorite flower, over it while Tom looked on.
Now it is my daughters who bring it up and not my mother.  While helping me get dressed after surgery, they both voiced their opinions when they noticed my daisy design.  I decided to take a tip from my mom and responded:  “Remember, girls, I married the fun guy!”
Let’s just say my sons-in-law are of the p…

Side By Side

A past memory surfaced this week of when I worked in sales, specifically when I sold a home to Katherine.  Of all the sales and all the homes, Katherine stands out and for a good reason.
I stood by her side that bright autumn afternoon when Katherine’s singlewide manufactured home, with a few upgrades, rolled on to her moderate patch of land on a cul-de-sac close to the major interstate.  Katherine could not contain her excitement when the truckers turned the corner on to her street.  You see, this home was her first.  She saved to get it and her pride of ownership spilled on to me.  I still remember her words like it happened yesterday.  She expressed her feeling as “blessed beyond her dreams.”  She couldn’t wait to move in and decorate her humble home and make it her own.  Katherine told me she wanted to do something for me.  She wanted to reward me for all the hard work to make her dream come true.
“It’s really not necessary, Katherine.  But if you’re in the neighborhood sometime, dr…

Guys in Pink Ties

How is it ever possible to be unified when people are so different?

A physical therapist at the hospital, whom I will call Ramon, entered my room for the second time that day.  He commented favorably about my pink t-shirt I changed into after the nurse removed my I.V.  He told me all about his pink tie!  Ramon placed a strap around my waist, rolled my walker in front of me and off we went for an afternoon stroll throughout the hospital.   Like old friends, we talked about everything.  We shared jokes, funny stories about our families and Ramon listened intently when I told him about the inspirational devotional I read that morning.  In turn, he responded with a story for me to chew on as well.  Time flew and my knee reminded me it was time to get back to my room.
Ramon scribbled notes on my patient chart and pulled his cell phone out of his back pocket.  He showed me a photo of him wearing a bright pink tie with a matching handkerchief in his suit jacket pocket.  Clearly wearing pink d…

How to Outshine

Every now and then someone comes into my life and mysteriously shines sweet kindness on my day.  The cashier at Walmart deserves a benevolence award. 
Amy, who has a big heart to please, asked me what she can bring to spruce up my post-op recovery days.  My throat, parched from anesthesia paraphernalia, longed for cold, sweet comfort.  My bedroom end-table collected water bottles and lozenges but I wanted something fun like a Popsicle or ice-cold fruit bar.  Good ole Amy grabbed two boxes of Outshine Fruit Bars in the freezer aisle at Walmart but when she went to pay for them, she realized she left her wallet in the purse she switched out that morning.  Embarrassed, she glanced at the cashier and offered to return them to the freezer aisle. 
The cashier insisted she keep them.  “I will pay for them,” she said.  “You can reimburse me the next time you’re in the store.”
Amy returned in record time with cash in hand.  She wasn’t about to take advantage of the dear lady plus she had to fet…

Post Op Update

Hello! This post comes to you from Mary's daughter, Carrie. My mom is recovering from her second knee surgery and I have come from San Diego to help mom cook and clean, and raise her spirits. My youngest daughter, Amy, has been a good distraction from PT and timers for pill taking. I overhear her playing on my mother's bed...she's clearly cheating at a game of Crazy 8's or Go Fish, but like it says in Proverbs 17, a cheerful heart is good medicine, and I can hear the cheer in my mother's voice. This time next year, I think those two will be dancing together by the Christmas tree! We love our family and being together, but we know the true healing is happening due to your prayers, and my mom thanks each one of you. She is getting better by the day, walking now and pain is being managed. We are grateful.

A few weeks ago we celebrated my dad's 70th birthday with family portraits outside of Sedona, AZ. Here are a few of our favorites! Thank you for prayers for our…

Surviving Limbo

If there was ever a place I never wanted to visit its Limbo.  No calm sea or happy dancing there in Limbo, just a boring pause desperate for a breakthrough.  Yet, I found myself there these last few weeks.
I’ve reached the limit for healing my left knee.  I can do no more until I have the right knee replaced.  My surgical knee compensates and I walk lopsided.  Plus it hurts.  My therapist, the standup comic, throws up his hands and says:  “You are in Limb-O!”
I set the date for another surgery.  That’s when the rigmarole began.   I flunked my chest X-ray.  I took it again and got the same result.  I felt like an outcast.
“You are inoperable,” they said.
I visited one doctor and then another.  I completed an echocardiogram. 
I wondered if my primary physician would release me for my very close surgery date.  Fear set in that something was wrong with me yet I felt great.  I didn’t fit the suggested diagnosis.  Why can’t life be smooth?
How to survive Limbo Control freaks hate Limbo.  They map…