I'm not lost

......I just don't know where I am.

Some of my friends don't like to go on adventures with me because when I am not sure where I am or how I am going to get to where we are going, I don't get upset.

At least that's the way it was until the last couple of days.

I was spending the day with my Naples family, relaxing some and taking care of a few errands.  One special task was to find a mail center and send four boxes of Letters for Luv canvases that my granddaughter Allie, had created.

Easy...except...I had a very difficult time finding a UPS store and I missed more than one turn.  Now I had thought this through.  I had done the research.  I knew where I was going.  Right.  Everything looked the same. And finally, though I didn't want to - I had to call my guru, my son in law, Wally.  He's a city planner.  He knows everything about highways.

By and by I found the place and although it was more expensive than we hoped, the packages are on their way.

You would think I learned my lesson.

My friend Deborah will not travel without an Atlas.  Did I need one?  Of course not.

The time for my return trip arrived.

I left Naples, made the first appropriate turn and then made a wrong one.  I needed gas, so I drove on. I wondered if there are gas stations in that part of the world. Once that was done, I thought I must be close to the Interstate, so I kept going.  The car's compass read north.  I just assumed I would run into Interstate 75,

An hour and 10 minutes later, I finally reached I75 in Ft Myers.  This part of my journey should have taken about 30 minutes.

Yes, I have directions on my phone.  I even have the ability to verbally ask for help and get a nice response.  But of course, as I finally realized I was asking for I95,  GRRRR,

And yes, I did stop for directions - and at all three places I was met by language barriers.

You have no idea how happy I was when I saw a sign that said I75 North.

With great relief, I made my way onto the highway and then I started thinking about what I had done.

I wondered did I learn anything?

I'll get an Atlas before I take another trip.  I'll also print a map of the area I am going to visit.

And do I find any spiritual truth in what happened?

John Newton said it best "I once was lost, but now I'm found, was blind but now I see."  I'm pretty sure (and very grateful) that it was God's "grace that brought me safe thus far. . ." and that same grace led me home.

I've known about that grace my whole life and it's been real to me since I was a first grader and realized that although I was a good little girl (at least in my mind I was), I still needed to have a personal relationship with the reason we celebrate Christmas (and more than that Easter).  He is "the way, the truth and the life" and so I'm never really lost.

May your life be filled with enough sunshine

to make you appreciate the shadow

Thanks for the Memories

It is Thanksgiving Eve, 2016.

Tomorrow the most common question one might hear is "what are you thankful for?"

We are just supposed to be thankful on Thanksgiving Day?  Of course not.  But it is a good time to take a moment to reflect.

My friend, Wendy, was very complimentary as she spoke to another friend about me.

"She has an incredible memory."

Yeah, I do have quite the memory.

And on this morning I am rememboring so many Thanksgivings . . .

When I was a little girl, my grandma Pauline Mercer Nesmith and her sisters often celebrated Thanksgiving together.  She had four sisters who lived in the area, and their children were my parents' friends as well as cousins. Their children and I went to the same church and school.  We shared in the joy and sadness.  I guess you might say that one of the things I am still thankful for is that incredibly large family of Mercer cousins.

College and marriage prevented me from being in Jacksonville for many years. That didn't prevent me from celebrating Thanksgiving with my family.  They came to me.

One special time they came was in 1979.  For the first time since 1965, the plan was for my little family to be in Jacksonville for Thanksgiving. However, an unfortunate accident prevented that.  I was heartsick as I called to say that Tray had been burned and we would be in the hospital for the next few days.  Not to worry - my family just packed up Thanksgiving and came to us.

The first Thanksgiving that Ray Parker and I had separated, our family traveled to Florence, South Carolina and enjoyed Thanksgiving with the Capps.  That's a sad memory, one I choose not to dwell on.  Except my dear North Carolina friends. Ronald and Julia Queen came to see us, and I'll always remember a sweet time of fellowship and Ronald's precious prayer for me.

In 1986, Ray's mother, Margaret, was near death.  So the children and I (with my parents) traveled to Winston-Salem, North Carolina to say goodbye.  We took a small turkey breast and some of the trimmings and had a Thanksgiving picnic in a Georgia State Park and we all remember that as a fun time.  We even have a video of us singing "Come, ye thankful people come".

18 years later, I had married Rich Suhey that spring, and he was already gone.  A massive coronary took him just eight months into our marriage.  It was a devastating time - especially since we had planned to be in San Francisco to celebrate Thanksgiving, so no one had made plans for me to be a part of Thanksgiving.  In a very dear gesture, Renee, Wally, and Tray suggested we go out for Thanksgiving.  We had done that once when my children were teenagers.  We could do that again.

And so we did - only this time we went to Cracker Barrel.  We had gone to the Hilltop many years before.

This year, Thanksgiving is a little different once more.  Thankfully, no one has died, no marriages are in dire straights.  Things are really quite good.

And I am going to make a new memory with Iva Lou.  We are going to share Thanksgiving with some of the people who are her new table mates at Brookdale Mandarin.  If she were writing this she would surely say that is what she is thankful for - and so do I.

It is our mother who taught us one of her favorite scriptures - one she lives by.

We don't have to wait until Thanksgiving Day to say thanks!

But I prayed . . .

Election Day

The first time I voted was in 1968.  That was back in the dark ages when one needed to be 21 to vote.

I remember that it was the middle of the day on Wednesday, November 9 before we knew that Richard Nixon had been elected.  That had been such a turbulent time. Martin Luther King and Bobby Kennedy had been assassinated.  George Wallace had been crippled in an attempt on his life Viet Nam was a huge issue and both Ray Parker and I had lost friends in the that conflict

48 years and 12 elections later we hopefully will go to bed on Tuesday night knowing the results. We surely will know when we awaken the next morning.

About half of my friend will be distraught - while the other half are elated.

And what I keep thinking about is that many of them are fervently praying that their candidate will win or in some cases simply that the other candidate will lose.

Either way,  I think I'll hear "But I prayed. . .".-

Which brings me to a memory of my daddy.

My granddaughter, Allie has a life-altering illness, an immune disorder that prevents her blood from making the proper number of platelets. She was three years into the diagnosis in 2009 when my daddy was nearing the end of his life.  He spent most of his time in the bed or a recliner.  He prayed a lot.

One day he wanted to talk with me about something important.

He asked about Allie.  And when I said that the tests were still showing that she didn't have enough platelets, he puddled up.

"But I've prayed that God would make her well," he said through his tears.

Well, daddy, we can pray, and we can believe - but what we pray for doesn't always happen.  In fact, Allie is now 13 and a half and low platelets is still an issue.  She has been poked and prodded, medicated and even had surgery to remove her spleen (the residing place of the virus that is believed to be the culprit of this disease).

So do we stop praying?

Not in my book.

OR Alfred Lord Tennyson's.  He said, "More things are wrought by prayer than this world dreams of."

And the Apostle Paul tells us to "Pray without ceasing."

So if your candidate doesn't win, please don't think God did not answer your prayer.

Just pray more - for our country and those who lead us.  Democrat, Independent, Republican.

May your life be filled with enough sunshine

to make you appreciate the shadow

Untangling the mess

 I have lots of good Halloween memories...

....from my childhood, I especially remember the year I was too old to go trick or treat.  Donned in one of my mother's  black dresses and a witch's hat, I served witches brew (lemonade) from an old black cauldron to the many children of Sans Souci.

...from my memory bank of my children's Halloween experiences, I especially remember Tray when he was a senior in high school. He was late coming home from his job at Ace Hardware and knocked on the door with the words "trick or treat."  He was, of course, a helpful hardware man.

And each year I look forward to a visit from some precious trick or treaters who call me grandma.

My favorite Halloween, however, has nothing to do with trick or treat.

Or does it?

Rich Suhey had always wanted a boat.  His mother passed away in the summer of 1997. There was some extra money from the sale of her house.

And so it was that on a Friday afternoon which also happened to be Halloween, we drove to the Julington Creek Marina and picked up the Manatee.  Rich was like a little boy in a candy shop.  It took us about four hours to make it back to where the boat would be moored at Colonial Point but that was okay.  We were having so much fun!

What a treat!

We were enjoying our first experience on the water when the engine began to spurt and sputter and make a grinding noise.  And then we realized we were stuck.

Now, Rich Suhey knew all things about cars and engines. So I assumed he knew all things about boats.  Besides, we both had certificates from the Coast Guard's safe boating course.

Was this a trick???

Fortunately, a seasoned fisherman came by.

"You are caught in a crab trap."

Not to worry, he could help us.  And he did.

It's been 19 years since that experience. Sometimes I feel like the boat's propeller's looked that day as the mechanic freed it from the mangled wire of a crab trap.  Life can make me feel bogged down, stuck, a MESS.

But fortunately, I have a Mechanic who can make the mess a message.  I just have to put my faith and trust in Him.

May your life be filled with enough sunshine

to make you appreciate the shadows

Bless this Mess

They're everywhere.

Piles of leaves and branches.  Separated from the source of life, they have lost their color.  No longer pretty and in a word - messy.

Maybe you've read this little idiom - God can make a testimony out of a test  and a message out of a mess.  Or look at the first four letters in the name Messiah - same concept.

You're looking for a Pollyanna approach - right?  You want me to tell you how beautiful this is, don't you?,

Sorry, I haven't come to see that as yet.  Maybe sometimes...but not as long as there is this mess in my back yard.

You see the way I figure it; my mess can wait. The people in my life who can relieve me of the mess are busy with their "customers."  And that's the way they are feeding their families.

So what am I to do?

If I had a chainsaw...

But I don't.

It falls my lot to wait.  My words are negative.

I'm really looking for positive.

Surely it's there - somewhere.

It's a mess; there is no doubt about that.  And for days I thought - no harm, no foul.  Just ugly.

Until. . .

In September I started the process of refinancing my house.  One of the goals is to remove  and replace the worn and weathered siding in my 17-year-old dwelling.

All was going well.   Six weeks ago it got an A+ when the appraiser looked at it.

And then Matthew paid a visit.

So the bank sent a second appraiser who - according to a licensed builder contractor who knows my house well - saw something that has been an issue for 10 years.

There is absolutely no damage.  Except in the appraiser's eyes.

And now I wait - you know that's not my favorite thing to do.

See, I told you - it's a mess.So what's my point?  I have learned that some things are a cause for pause in my life.   If I know it's going to make me sad, disgusted or could be the breeding ground to get me into trouble, I try to avoid it.

Or in this case, I don't have to open the back door!

I'll let you know when I find the message in the mess!  It's just around the bend!

May your life be filled with enough sunshine

to make you appreciate the shadows

O Ye of Little Faith

These are my neighbors.  I don't know any of their names.

Thursday, October 6 - The media and elected officials told us to prepare. Matthew was coming.

Brookdale Mandarin, the Assisted Living Facility that is home to our mother, ensured us of a generator, water, and any medical help required,  With our mother's agreement, my family and I determined that Brookdale was the best place for her.

In fact, my children thought I should go and stay with her rather than in my home.

Friday, October 7 -  We watched and waited.  Newscasters told us of winds, rain, bridges. The mayor and the governor warned us. And by and by, the wind and the rain were here.

I heard a crash around 3:30 and looked out my back door to see that a couple of trees had landed on my deck.  I was not the least bit concerned.

Nightfall came, the wind and rain continued.  I never lost power. Two filing projects that  had plagued me for weeks were completed. I also finished reading one book and started another.

You might say I was quite confident at daybreak and remained that way as the sun began to fill the sky. Assessing the damage, I noted that no elves had come to remove the trees or repair the rail. Still shattered - with branches, leaves, and vines adorning the well-weathered wood   And that's in the back of my house.

The front was not that different.  Leaves, branches, and trees were on the ground.  And across Paddle Boat Lane.  There would be no leaving anytime soon.

My cell phone rang.

A nurse at Brookdale Mandarin told me that my mother had fallen during the night but that she was okay.  There was an issue at Brookdale, however.  They had no power.

Panic.

Both my brother and I telephoned and talked with mother's suite mat, Sally. They are an interesting pair. My mother's issue is hearing, and hers is sight.  Sally told us that mother was fine.

My children were not content with that information.  I learned that my son was on his way over there.

And then I heard it.

Chain saws.

And I saw it.  Smiling neighbors with rakes and garbage bags.

It was what we used to call a Kodak moment.

I wasted no time taking my leave.  I later told them why I left without helping.

So do you get why I am feeling a bit chastised this morning?

I'm  not sure my children believed that either me or my mother were going to be okay during the storm and I KNOW that I never dreamed that my exit out of my development would be passable that quickly.

And how many times have I asked myself if she would have fallen if I had been there?  Never mind the fact that the fall was very minor and that she is not hurt!

And how about the guilt I feel that I didn't help when my neighbors were clearing the way.

Hum - me - the writer who touts herself as a person of FAITH.

Did I learn my lesson?

May your life be filled with enough sunshine

to make you appreciate the shadows

"'Til the Storm passes by"

I love it when  something reminds me of a song.  It you know me very well at all, you know that happens all the time.

Like most Northeastern Floridians I am spending today watching the sky.  From my kitchen window, I see branches, leaves and moss swaying in the breeze.  Every now and then rain splashes on the walkway.  It's a dreary, but gentle sight.

Don't get me wrong.  I'm not just daydreaming.  I've done my due diligence in preparation for the storm that is on the way.  I have gas in my car, cash in my pocketbook, a thermos for coffee and my bathtub is filled with water.

Unless the Gulf stream waters push Matthew further out to sea our area will be the object of that hurricane's power.

Which brings me to the song.

It has been more than 40 years since I first heard:

"In the dark of the midnight, have I oft hid my face
 While the storm howls above me and there's no hiding place.
'Mid the crash of the thunder, Precious Lord, hear my cry
"Keep me safe til the storm passes by".

The chorus goes on

"Til the storm passes over, til the thunder sounds no more, Till the clouds roll forever from the sky; Hold me fast last me stand in the hollow of they hand...Keep me safe till the storm passes by."
("Till the storm passes by" - Mosie Lister)

HUM - did I mention that today is so dreary? Or that there's a tall oak tree in the next yard that night not withstand the winds, or am I far enough from the river so that no flood waters will effect me and how long will we be without power ?

This morning I read a devotion called "God is in the clouds".  It was written by Tracie Mills and it's a part of the Real Life Devotional Bible for Women which is published by  Proverbs 31 ministry.

Her words were related to the cloud that positioned itself over the tabernacle where the Israelites worshiped as they were wandering 40 years in the wilderness.  Talk about feeling bleak and unsure about their future. ( For more about this you can read the book of Exodus).

To paraphrase Ms Mills - Sometimes there are clouds all around us (this day the whole sky seems to be a cloud) so we think there is no sunshine but there really is....we just can't see it.

So what am I to do?

Believe God is present and He will guide me ... no matter how dark the skies are today!  That's finding sunshine (I know that sun is there some place) in spite of shadows,