What was lost...is found

If I lose it, usually I find it.

Sometimes it takes longer than I wanted, but most of the time, just when I least expect it - the item I have lost shows up.

And it doesn't just happen to me...it happens to my sweet mother.

Her latest visit to the Baptist South included me looking in her purse for her wallet and not finding it.

That wallet was "lost" for a month.  We feared it had been stolen, Had that happened the thief would have garnered one dollar and some change and medical cards, a Social Security card and an identification card - oh and the list of medicines she takes and maybe her emergency contacts.

The wallet showed up in a different purse.  She had forgotten that she changed purses the week before we took her to the hospital.

We were delighted - mostly that it hadn't been stolen.

That was a good find but a better one was when she lost her hearing aide remote control that helps her hear what she needs and tone out what she doesn't need - the noise in a crowd.

That one was an expensive loss.

But like others, it showed up just when we least expected it.

Yesterday I looked for some extra keys and found the extra garage door opener I had been missing for a few days.  I also found the keys.

AND today - weeks after I had lost it - I found the link to my blog.

So once more I can write.

And, dear reader, aren't you the lucky one?

And aren't I sarcastic?

Lots of changes have occurred in my life since I last posted on April 16.  Two puppies added to our family - and one dog is gone.  I have a new job where although the builder boys in my family think I'm exaggerating, I am learning to build a house.   And most of all, I am still loving and appreciating the life I have.

As I have often said I think this is my mantra.

Thanks for reading . . .and may your life be filled with enough sunshine to make you appreciate the shadows!

Pray, Paula, Pray

She was five and I was eight.

As was our normal way of living, she was outside playing and I was inside reading a book.

The front door opened with wails of "pray, Paula, pray -- I just know it's broken."

My little sister, Cindy, had fallen off her bike.

And so it was that the two of us began a lifetime of saying to each other "Pray...Pray...I just know it's 'whatever current calamity was in either of our lives.'

I thought of that as I waited for the doctor to return with the results of an X-Ray of my left foot.  The injury is a week old.  I should have gone to the doctor six days ago.  But you see I just had so much responsibility...

And if it were broken what then?  At first I felt frightened and then I realized what I really felt was discouragement.

And then I remembered this: 

 

My yard is a mess (and I am not exaggerating).  Every time I plan to work in it, I have something that seems more important and I think okay I'll do this...later.

 

But these lilies are a constant reminder of a verse I've been relying on since I was a child. "Consider the lilies of the field, how they toil and spin" from Luke 12.  That passage goes on to say that no one really tends to them, they just grow.  And that's sort of what's been happening to my lilies.

 

Even though I haven't taken time to work in what has been in years past a really pretty little garden, those lilies are a reminder to me to keep seeking God FIRST and trusting Him to put the pieces of my life in order.

 

If I've heard it once, I've heard it a thousand times...when are you going to slow down?

 

I really don't want to slow down.

 

But this weekend as I sit with my foot propped up, in a lovely black boot and know that an orthopedic visit looms...

 

I have to "consider the lilies"and know that I'm really not in control...nor do I want to be...honest.

 

Oh and by the way...even though I prayed as she asked...Cindy's arm was broken.

 

"...But God meant it for good"

"It kept me out of the National Honor Society".

I listened as my son, Tray, was remembering when he was in the 11th grade and a disagreement with a teacher about an assignment was the culprit that made his GPA just shy of the necessary requirements.

I started to lament the situation.  It was my  fault; I should have gone to bat for him; I should -- I should - I should.

This was not about me.

Hum.

I listened some more.

"It was probably a good thing, Mom". 

Tray went on to say that he is glad his life has had what seemed at the time to be bad things because if they hadn't happened, then he wouldn't be where he is today - especially with regard to his lovely wife, Kristen and their daughters.

For the past few days I have been reading excerpts from, Great Days with the Great Lives by Chuck Swindoll - with a focus on the Biblical account of the life of Joseph. 

As I reflected on our conversation I thought of the words that Joseph had for his brothers - those men who sold him into slavery and told their father, Jacob, his chosen son was dead.  Years had passed, Joseph had been promoted to a place of honor when his brothers needed grain.  Their reunion resulted in their lament...and Joseph told them "you meant it for evil, but God meant it for good" (Genesis 50:20).

So many times in my life I have been faced with some sort of tragedy - if not tragedy things that caused me to fear, worry, sorrow.

And yet I know that all those things happened for a reason - and if they hadn't happened then I  might have missed what happened instead - and more than that - my children might have missed what happened instead and I think they would agree...

"...But God meant it for good!"

Say you're sorry

Am I the only one?

It seems that more and more - my mouth is getting ahead of my brain and the words that come tumbling out are not so nice.

Well, maybe not horrible - but smart - well you get it.

And I keep having to go back to the hearer and apologize for my rude lack of good manners.

It's not that I don't know better.  I was taught those tests - "is it true, is it kind, is it necessary?" And hopefully I taught that principle to my children.

That - and to "say you're sorry".

But somehow the older I get, the more times I am being called out (from within my spirit) to say I'm sorry.  The old fashioned way to say this would be that I have been convicted - or to put some other words around it - become aware that I have done something that was wrong, as we say in the confession - " the things that I have done...".

And USUALLY it's because I SAID something unnecessary or unkind. 

In our Lenten series we are focusing on Justice and Mercy.

If those people that I've had to apologize to in recent days were being just they might not forgive me; however, in most cases I've been viewed mercifully and the person I've been rude or unkind to has been quick to accept my apology.

You will note that I said most cases.*

I actually think that if I would practice "thinking before I speak" I might not have to say I'm sorry quite as often.

*Note to self:  sometimes no matter what you do, what you say, how many times you reach out and ask for forgiveness, the person you have hurt just can't ...accept.  Take advice from the words of the English poet, Alexander Pope -

"To err is human; to forgive divine" which has been expanded by English scholars to mean that while anyone can make a mistake, we should do what God does...show mercy and forgive.

Or as my mother always taught us "It's not how others ACT, it's how we REACT".  I cannot control the heart of the person I hurt.  All I can say is that

I'm sorry!

His dream came true

Not history; nor mystery.

In other words - don't concentrate on either the past or the future so much that you cannot appreciate today. 

I not only appreciate that concept, I often share it as advice!

EXCEPT - some times those memories are so precious that I am not willing to let them go.

That's the case today - as the 58th Daytona 500 is underway.

July 1996

"You've heard of the Daytona 500, right?"

Of course I had heard of the Daytona 500.  I am a native Floridian.  I was in the sixth grade when the first Daytona was run and that was just one more of the sports my daddy followed.

"Well, yeah".

But the next question was -

"Would you like to go with me to the race?"

That was a new one.  No one had ever asked me that kind of question.

Sure....

Before that event, Rich Suhey took me to the Daytona 500 racetrack.  He told me how exciting it would be to hear the voice of the announcer say "Gentlemen, start your engines", and about how he had heard that the cars sounded like a train as they came in front of the stands.  He could hardly wait for Feburary 16th to arrive.

This was one of those things that Rich had dreamed about his whole life.

Me?  I never imagined even remotely that I would ever be sitting in a grandstand on a February Sunday - watching race cars.  I knew exactly where it was; but I certainly had never thought I would be a spectator.

Who knew?

I found this in my scrapbook as I was remembering.

I was there with Rich when one of his dreams came true. 

The next year he had fallen asleep and I was studying as the race was about to end. 

I realized that Dale Earnhart was about to win.  I have always been glad that I woke him up.

Those two Daytona 500's were the only ones we would share. And yet all these years later, that race has some significance for me.

Not so much that I would want to find myself in the stands...but just enough to make me sure I have my television on so that I can hear those famous words..."Drivers start your engines".

On second thought...Maybe I would like to go again.

He knew my name

My life was in a state of disarray.

The life that Rich Suhey and I had planned was not going to happen.  I was a 51 year old widow who had been married to the man who I believed to be the love of my life for just 8 months when he was suddenly snatched away.  It was a very difficult time.

When I reflect on those days, I know that I could not have survived without the love of my family and friends and my faith.

I also know that I needed to be a part of a Christian community of faith.  Worship and service had been a part of who I am since I was a child.

Rich had introduced me to liturgical worship and I often found myself at St. Paul's Episcopal Church in those early days. 

On the first Sunday of Lent in 1999 I completed the card in the pew and asked for a call from the Rector.

And so it was that on Tuesday, February 16, my phone rang an the voice on the other end was the Rev. Rick Westberry, St. Paul's Rector.

We chatted and I said I planned to attend the Lenten Simple Supper Series that would begin the next night.  The program would be videos by Tony Campalo and I always liked him.

I'll never forget that night.  I was seated at a table when Father Rick walked into the room - and said "Hello Paula".

How did he know my name?  Well, no doubt it was Rich's Vistakon jacket that gave him a clue -- and yet it meant so much to me. 

That "knowing my name" thing was very special.

As I thought of how special I did some research in Scripture and using the words "knew my name" I found some words from Isaiah 43 that resonated to my state of being in 1999 and even today.  This is from The Message

 ^1-4 But now, God’s Message,

    the God who made you in the first place, Jacob,

    the One who got you started, Israel:

“Don’t be afraid, I’ve redeemed you.

    I’ve called your name. You’re mine.

When you’re in over your head, I’ll be there with you.

    When you’re in rough waters, you will not go down.

When you’re between a rock and a hard place,

    it won’t be a dead end—

Because I am God, your personal God,

He knows my name.

Amen.

I'm giving up...

I confess that there have been times that I have thought "I should give up Valentine's Day for Lent".

But this morning I read a great post on Facebook: 

A special Happy Valentine's Blessing for all my "uncoupled" friends who are blessed by many friendships ... And by the God of love!

Now I should be honest - this year I do have a date for Valentine's.  But there have been many years that "no date" was the case.

By now, I've had several very special valentines - from my daddy to my high school sweetheart, my college sweetheart who became my husband and the father of my dearest valentines - Becca, Renee and Tray who gave me Amazing, Awesome, Glowing, Terrific, Effervescent, Caring and Radiant- each one my favorite grandchild who loves me back!

I have also learned that Valentine's is not just about having a significant other,  In fact one does not have to be in a couple to appreciate Valentine's Day.

Valentine's is about loving and giving. 

I don't know where I first saw this but I have read that "Jesus is our Valentine" and I've seen those acrostics on Facebook that use the letters from the word Valentine to work their way through John 3:16. 

My favorite definition of love is that it is "willing the best for the beloved".

Beloved - that's a word that came from Heaven when God was speaking of Jesus, His only Son - the one He gave to us - the world He loves.

There are those words again - gave and love.  

So I'm not giving up Valentine's Day for Lent...In fact I'm not giving up anything.