The mail carrier has delivered two surprises within the last few days. Such welcome surprises! Saturday we received a copy of the new FOPC cookbook, reminding me of the people who contriubted the recipes and tastes of things served at Presbytiree Potlucks and Mariner meetings. Such great memories! Early in the week we received the autobiography of a precious lady in the FOPC congregation. I've only had time to scan it, but it's obvious from the beginning what a testimony it is to our faithful God. It, too, reminds me of the special years we spent as "on site" members of the FOPC family.

Congestion, cough, low grade fever and a stabbing pain in my abdomen sent me to the doctor Monday. The first three were symptoms of the pneumonia that hospitalized me two years ago, so I wasn't about to ignore them--as is my habit. I always think that if you wait long enough symptoms will go away. If I hadn't had both the flu and pneumonia shots a month ago I would have thought the flu had me in its grip. Medicine has helped. The pain is a different matter--cause still unknown, but we are in the process of eliminating causes. Tom, as usual, gets worse when I feel bad and this week has been no exception. Observing what is happening to him makes me know that there are worse things than cancer. Tomorrow is treatment day and hopefully a good report.

We celebrated Elisa's first birthday on Sunday. It's hard to believe she's already a year old. Her siblings were more interested in her presents than she was, but she did love the bright pink cupcake!

I have finished the Advent devotional booklet I was writing for the church. This is the first time I've tackled such a project and found it to be really rewarding. The church secretary is busy with the format, assembly and printing. Beginning November 30, the first day of Advent, I will post a devotional for each day of the season, ending with Christmas Day--if you're interested.

Many of you prayed before the elections. Please continue.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

Costumes Galore!



Most children love Halloween. Forget about ghosts and goblins and think costumes and candy! Our church had its annual "trunk or treat" event at Wednesday night church this week and the grandchildren filled their pumpkins with all kinds of treats. Last night they dressed in their costumes and went to a "church member filled" neighborhood where the minister and his family live to go from door to door. Unfortunately, by the time they piled in the car and came back to our house, they were all tired and the little ones were tired of costumes. You'll have to admit this butterfly and pink poodle are precious. Marty, Kevin and Christopher were invited to a costume party and following the tradition of the women who have come before her, Marty made costumes for them to wear. Christopher is the cutest pirate I've ever seen.

A word of caution! Cellular phones are not waterproof or baby proof. Tommy came out one day this week to see Elisa either really getting into his messages or giving his cell phone the taste test. After that he could not be heard when he spoke into his phone. Apparently Elisa's sweet slobber shorted out something--which, of course, could not be fixed and he had to get a new phone. I've noticed how conveniently parts and/or batteries for your current phone never seem to be available when you need them.

Tom had a visit with his neurologist Wednesday and his words indicated that the recent imbalance and weakness in Tom's legs was a result of medications not mixing with the antibiotic. When this first started three weeks ago, a pharmacist suggested this could be the problem and it seems she was right. He's been off the antibiotic almost a week and his balance has improved. I wish his cognitive function was as easy to fix. We are now trying something new for his confusion and memory loss. It's too soon to tell if it's helping or if there are any adverse side effects.

Don't forget to vote Tuesday! Regardless of your choice, please vote and please vote that God will be in the midst of the elections. At the time of every presidential election people are heard to say, "This is a crucial time in the history of our nation." True enough. The person elected faces many critical issues that affect both the young and the old and those issues are not unlike many our leaders have previously confronted. Every area of the country has issues that are peculiar to them. It's not too late--nor will it ever be--to pray for God's wisdom and God's guidance. Whether the person or persons for whom we vote wins, God is still in control. I direct your attention to Psalm 33:12-22:

Blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord,

the people he chose for his inheritance.

From heaven the Lord looks down and sees all mankind;

from his dwelling place he watches all who live on earth--

he who forms the hearts of all,

who considers everything they do.

No king is saved by the size of his army;

no warrior escapes by his great strength.

A horse is a vain hope for deliverance;

despite all its great strength it cannot save.

But the eyes of the Lord are on those

who fear him,

on those whose hope is in his unfailing love,

to deliver them from death

and keep them alive in famine.

We wait in hope for the Lord;

he is our help and our shield.

In him our hearts rejoice,

for we trust in his holy name.

May your unfailing love rest upon us,

O Lord,

even as we put our hope in you.

Blessings,

Pastor Margaret

The air this morning is crisp and cool. I'm glad the newspaper wasn't any further away from the front door than it was. Yesterday I noted when I went out to get lunch that lots of trees in the neighborhood have turned red. That means another trip downtown to see if the ghinkos are yellow yet. We've never traveled up East to see the fall leaves, nor to other places famous for their color, but have been content to enjoy the beauty around us. Sometimes when Mom and Dad would return from some place where "the leaves were absolutely beautiful," Tom would reply, "Mississippi has beautiful leaves." Then, he might go on to comment on the ghinko in our front yard, the pear trees in the mall parking lot or the varieties of trees on the Natchez Trace. I guess we have always been content with the beauty that surrounds us wherever we are.

I haven't given a "grandchildren update" lately, so here's the latest. Nine month old Christopher looked up at Marty one day this past week and said "Mama." All you mothers out there know how special that is! Mallory has been helping Marty with sewing projects. That was fun for both of them. I don't remember Marty being particularly interested in sewing at that age. Jacob is still loving band. I told him over the weekend I was going to put a book on his head, he's growing so tall and might I say "good looking?" Drew has been learning to ride a bike without training wheels. He came to our house a week ago Saturday to practice on our driveway. (Ours is longer and has a large parking area behind the house--perfect for bikes, scooters, etc.) Getting on and getting going is the hard part. I don't know how many times he got on, tried, fell, got up and tried again. Then I noticed the front tire was low and that kept him from steering straight. His determination reminded me of when I learned many years ago and I knew in a instant where he got at least some of that determination. Meredith has always been very verbal, but now we can actually understand much of what she says. She is so cute, bouncing through the house, curls bobbing on her head. Elisa will be a year old next Sunday. Where did the year go? She has only to smile and the day is brighter! Sarah, who in family order comes between Jacob and Drew, has been adding to her cooking accomplishments. Friday Tommy planned a special dinner with homemade ravioli stuffed with crab to go along with veal, red pepper cream sauce and asparagus. Sarah made the pasta and cut it into shapes ready for me to stuff. Saturday she and her dad made pizza and created one with chicken, alfredo sauce, peppers and onions. Friday night her daddy was bragging on her, telling us she had made the pasta and reminding us that she had already learned to make a roux. She piped up and said, "I can make hot dogs too." She has her priorities in order. In other words, forget the gourmet stuff and get on with the basics.

Tom will see the neurologist Wednesday and we pray for some understanding of what has been going on with him the last several weeks. Watching him become weaker and more confused is difficult. You know after the Apostle Paul had prayed for his thorn to be removed and it wasn't, he prayed for grace to accept and deal with his problem. People with chronic illness need to do the same. Jesus spoke to him those words that keep us going: My grace is sufficient. That, my friends, is the bottom line.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

When I think back on last week, a good bit of it seems like a blur. I pretty much operated on automatic pilot--Tom needed a lot of help and attention and I felt pretty rotten and tired. We have had several nights when he has actually been able to walk by himself without falling and one or two when I haven't even heard him. Sunday we were perky enough to go to Tommy and Liz's for lunch, but then crashed when we came home. Yesterday we braved the world and headed for Target to do a little early Christmas shopping. That went pretty well until close to the end of the trip.

We finished our shopping, checked out and went to relax and enjoy coffee at the Starbuck's counter. Tom remembered he had forgotten bird seed and dog treats for our neighbor's dog and wanted to go back and get them. He got another shopping cart and I pointed him in the right direction, but it seemed like he was gone too long and I was getting antsy. Just when I decided I'd have to take my cart and all my purchases and go looking I saw him in a check out line. Whew! Telling him he can't do something, taking away even more of his independence is hard. It's even harder to choose between putting him at risk or robbing him even more of his dignity.

In my head I know this: life requires praying without ceasing and there is a step in Ben Johnson's booklet, Adventure in Prayer, that is really helpful. He says that a part of our morning prayer should include asking God to guide you in whatever will come your way during the day. Ask God to give you wisdom, words, courage for both what is planned and that which is unplanned. When this is our habit, we are prepared for anything.

The reality is I don't always do what my head knows. Life gets in the way and my prayer life is as unbalanced and wobbly as Tom's legs. My focus turns inward instead of upward. Like Paul, I do what I shouldn't and don't do what I should. I pray for help in making "big" decisions, but fail to rely of God for the ordinary, everyday occurences.

Today is not as good as yesterday. Tom is wobbly; he is a bit incoherent and has gone back to bed. Please join me in praying for answers to the problems he is having and that the legs of my prayer life will not continue to be unbalanced and wobbly.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

Erroneous belief about older people concerns change. How often we hear the words: He will never change. She just wants to keep doing the same things in the same old ways. Here's my response: never is a strong word--use it sparingly and wisely. Also, we may not want to change things or the way they are done, but the truth of the matter is, we are more acquainted with change than people of other ages.

Change sneaks up on us when we least expect it. Life is happening all around us; things are going smoothly. One day follows another; family events and celebrations seem almost routine. One day we are young, healthy, prodcutive and the next day advancing age is evident, our health is declining and our services are no longer required. Who says we don't know or can't adjust to change? Change is as inevitable as life itself.

That's where Tom and I are this week--facing the possibility of more changes. Changes have taken place in him and we're not sure if they are from medication, the advancement of the disease or a combination of both. I suspect the latter. Four nights in a row, when he got up in the night, he could not stand up or keep from falling. Why he has no broken bones, I don't know. I have spoken with a pharmacist, a nurse and a doctor and am following their directions. Yesterday I had a long talk with our helper about what we may be looking at sooner, rather than later. What a Godsend she is!

God's grace has been evident in the stamina He has given me in these last few days. I did have a treatment last Friday, plus both flu and pneumonia vaccines, so normally would be really tired especially getting up with Tom at night. I didn't even have to take nausea medicine but once since the treatment. God's grace continues to sustain us!

Both the changes and the grace just keep on coming.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

Today would have been our dad's 97th birthday. He was the best of men, honest, wise, caring, a man of integrity. I never heard him tell even a little white lie. He believed in telling the truth and he believed in the one who is Truth. Dad could fix almost anything so whenever anything was broken we went straight to the one we knew could make it right. When there were gifts to open, he drove everyone crazy because he took his time and very meticulously opened his gift. He would take his knife--always in his pocket--cut the ribbon, slit the tape, remove the paper and fold it and then look to see what was inside. In the early fifties, during the polio outbreak, many restrictions were put on children and young people. Dad brought the neighborhood young ones together and had Sunday School for them in their back yard. He was the king of games and Mom and I tried our best to beat him, but rarely succeeded. I thought of him yesterday afternoon when Jacob was here repotting mums for the front porch. Almost all of what I know about flowers, the yard, pruning, etc. I learned from Dad. If he couldn't identify a plant I was sure no one else could either. I wished Jacob could have learned from him. There is much, much more I could say about Dad, but I'll tell you the best things he did for us--and for me especially. He was a godly man. His love and devotion to Mom continues to be an example in our lives and he looked on me as his daughter, not just his son's wife. It seems appropriate on his birthday that I share something we found in his personal papers when he died five years ago. It's called:

Seven Short Rules for Christian Living.

Psalm 119:105 - Thy word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path.

1. Never neglect daily private prayer. Remember that God is present and hears you (Matt. 6:5-6; Philippians 4:6-7).

2. Never neglect daily Bible reading--and remember when you read that God is speaking to you (II Tim. 3:16-17).

3. Never ask God for anything you do not need or ought not to have (I Cor. 10:13).

4. Never, never doubt God. Tell Him all of your cares and trust Him to carry all of your burdens (I Peter 5:7; Rom. 8:28; Matt. 6:25-28).

5. Never let a day pass without trying to do something for Jesus (Matt. 5:13-16).

6. Never take your Christianity from someone else. Don't say it's okay for me to do it because so and so does (I Samuel 16:7).

7. Never turn away from God's will. If you do His will you will learn to love, trust, and know Him (Psalm 25:14; Micah 6:8).

Psalm 119:11 - Thy word have I hid in my heart that I might not sin against thee.

Psalm 19:14 - Let the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be acceptable in thy sight, O Lord my rock and my salvation.

Dad lived by these simple rules and by his life encouraged all of us who knew and loved him.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

Fall in the South continues to be spectacular. That's not exaggeration! The termperatures are milder, there is less humidity and the leaves are turning and falling. Our favorite college football team did well on Saturday--they didn't play. The children came Saturday to play in the yard while we cooked hamburgers and hotdogs on the grill. Even the Farmers' Market has taken a Fall decor with lots of mums, pumpkins, gourds and greens for sale. I was happy to find a few tomatoes and an abundance of Mississippi sweet potatoes. I tried a new recipe: oven fried sweet potatoes with basil salt and a garlic mayonnaise dipping sauce. Yum, yum! Fall, family, food are ingredients for a fun weekend.

Tom and I both visited our primary care physician Thursday--just a regular check-up, but also to report the progress on finding the cause of Tom's headaches, the treatment, the results of his last trip to the neurologist. We came away with a bag full of samples of another medication he is to try for the anxiety and nervousness. Maybe we're on to something. Friday we went to Corinth to see the oncologist and thought the visit went well. It seems that the chemo drug I'm on now causes elevation of the CA125 at first, before it begins to drop and/or level out. My white count is "on the cusp," he said, and he lifted some of the precautions I've been following for the last three weeks--making the tomatoes I found even more welcome. Treatment is this Friday, with another scheduled the first Friday in November, followed by scans. We'll know more then.

It's hard not knowing. I like to know what will happen tomorrow, the next day and the next. I can recount many times when I've been reluctant to obey the leading of the Holy Spirit, when I have really wanted to tell God that I'd like to make decisions on my own, 'cause "I know better." Some of those times I did my thing, didn't listen and always those were bad decisions--big mistakes. When I've listened, when I've been obedient, God has blessed more than I could even imagine He would have. Why, then, do I wonder about tomorrow? Why can't I completely trust God with tomorrow? I call it "human nature," all the time knowing I don't want to be defined by that nature, but by the new person I became in Christ years ago. It's His nature that prompts obedience and provides trust. God is in charge of tomorrow. I don't need to know what will happen.

Incurable cancer plays with your mind, your soul, not to mention what it does to your body. It gives you opportunity to step back, review your life and consider all the things you want to accomplish before you die. It helps you not take people for granted. You value every minute you spend with those you love; you don't put off until tomorrow the things you should do or say today. Those are good things. But, there are ups and downs. Beginning this current round of chemo started a down turn. It was the not knowing, the lapse in trust, the wanting to be in charge. All of us have areas in our lives that need to be committed completely to God. No, all of us need to commit our lives completely to God--not just areas. Then we need to let go and trust Him. God's grace is sufficient for all our needs.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

This week will be dull compared to last. We had phone conversations with three California friends, two from Mississippi and visits from two couples who were on road trips from California. A lady from our church here stopped by one day and the children were free enough from sniffles that we were able to share two meals with them at their house. What a week! The presence of friends and family, whether in person or by phone, brings indescribable joy. (It's all a part of the fellowship of believers for us.)

The Witts came Thursday after spending a couple of days in Memphis enjoying ribs at the Rondeveaux--the world's best rib place--and taking in the sights. We had lunch at home, showed them a little of Jackson, dined on catfish for supper and talked and talked and talked. Sunday the Mittlers stopped by for a couple of hours and brought us lots of CDs of services and Bible studies fom Fair Oaks. Those visits will live on in our hearts for a long time.

More and more I am convinced that one of this life's greatest gifts is grandchildren! Christopher has learned to crawl and has joined that group of little ones known as the "Now You See Me, Now You Don't" crowd. Having Elisa crawling around our house makes me more diligent in keeping things off the floor. I'm convinced that all those months babies sit looking around and cooing before they reach the crawling stage, they are really casing the place so they'll know exactly where to explore. I think Marty agrees, now that Christopher is off and going. He has big sister Mallory wrapped around his little finger. Elisa's latest accomplishment is to say "No, No." Meredith has added "One, Two, Buckle My Shoe" to her nursery rhyme repetoire, but I think "Humpty, Humpty" is still her favorite. That's the one we hear the most. Jacob, Sarah and Drew are busy with the usual school activities and fun to be around. I love to hear what they are doing in school, to hear Jacob play new notes on his saxophone, to see Sarah do the crab crawl and to get pictures from Drew and see his school work. I bet he's a fun little boy to have in class.

I love this time of year. It has always been my favorite, a time when the weather gets cooler, the leaves change color, the cotton fields stand ready for picking, delicious smells from the kitchen fill the house, football takes over the weekends, basketball begins and families begin dusting off favorite holiday traditions and planning new ones. There is something in the air that prompts both a calm excitement about the present and a warm nostalgia about falls past.

The visits from our friends and the most recent grandchildren stories and accomplishments will be added to the fall memory bank of 2008. All of us are making memories every day, really every minute and we will be remembered by those who know us. The content of those memories is up to us. Think about it.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

My start in Older Adult Ministry years ago was prompted by a couple in our church whose maiden aunt had come from another town to live in an apartment behind their house. She was legally blind and had some mobility problems as well. The couple wanted the aunt to be involved in the church, but there were few ways that she could. I asked what the aunt missed most about not being able to attend and participate the way she had when she was younger and I was told that she "missed the fellowship." Consideration of that statement has been one of the foundational pillars of Older Adult Ministry for me. Not only have I pondered what "missing the fellowship" means, but I have also continued to ask how to extend the "fellowship of believers" to those who can no longer regularly attend.

Today I have a personal understanding of "missing the fellowship." The Church has been an integral part of both Tom's life and mine since we were born. The Church has nurtured us and taught us; it has celebrated our joys and grieved with us in our losses. Worship services and other church events and activities have been our priority. They have gone on our calendar first, other things were secondary. Granted, part of this is habit, one instilled in us by our parents, for which I am glad. My dear mother-in-law taught me the value of good habits. Not being in worship on Sundays, not being actively involved is a hard habit to break!

Greater than the "habit" is the need to be connected to fellowship of believers. Worshiping together introduces us to the "Sweet, sweet Spirit in this place;" studying together provides opportunity for growth; praying with and for one another is encouraging and affirming; serving together unites our lives in a common purpose. So, is the "fellowship of believers" portable? Do we have to go somewhere to enjoy it? Can it extend beyond the boundaries of the church building? The question I've asked in ministry about others has come home to roost, so to speak.

Tom's increased nervousness limits the time I can spend away from him and my lowered white count prevents my being in crowds. (Translation: don't go to church or other such gatherings.)
As a result, I've missed some opportunities to teach and preach and have had to miss a couple of presbytery meetings lately. Now I pull up my chair on Sunday morning and tune in to 2nd Presbyterian, Memphis. It's only a thirty minute service, beginning with a short anthem, reading of God's Word and the message. Currently, the minister is preaching through II Corinthians and his insights are remarkable. I am becoming a part of the fellowship of believers in a congregation that doesn't even know it. They are sharing their worship with many across the mid-South and extending their fellowship to TV viewers.

A friend of a friend contacted me by e-mail after being introduced to my blog. He shared his story and the paper he had written for his doctoral dissertation. By so doing, he reached out and ministered to me through cyber space, thus sharing the fellowship of the Spirit, the golden thread that ties believers together.

After all these years the one question remains, but the answers to it are growing day by day.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

Ike brought crisp, cooler days, a little rain and wind gusts that cleared some limbs out of the trees. It's good porch sitting weather! We know, however, not to get too used to it. Fall is always hot in this part of the country. I am once again anticipating the turning of the ghinko trees downtown around the courthouse. The seasons come and go, but I never tire of the beauty of each one.

I learned Monday that the tumor marker has lost its way--it's going up instead of down. Of course, the nurse, in her brightest voice, reminded me how many treatments I had had and that I shouldn't be discouraged. "Discouragement" is not the word; it is "disappointment." We want that count to go down and the white count to come up. Pretty typical of human nature. We're seldom satisfied with what we have, always wanting more. The apostle Paul said that he had learned to be content in any state. That's an expression of all -out trust in an unchanging, faithful God and I want to be able to echo Paul's statement. "Discouragement" does not belong in my vocabulary.

I have been drawn to a lovely lady in our congregation who has caregiving responsibilities for her husband. He is a former mayor of the city and until a stroke disabled him, he was active, vital, very much involved in the church and community. The other day she told me that one of her friends saw her at church and commented that she had never seen her look prettier, then added: "Stress must agree with you." We laughed and said that if that's the case she would be the world's most beautiful lady.

If asked, I imagine she would say that her life has not taken the path she thought it would. I never imagined the circumstances we face day to day. Life is fragile. It can--and does--change in an instant. An outwardly healthy person can be felled by a stroke or heart attack in an instant; a doctor's diagnosis can change everything; an accident may rearrange your lifestyle; a broken relationship may hurt you deeply. Life is full of change. It is inevitable. The old cliche, "two things never change--death and taxes," holds no comfort, is no help. The comfort lies in the knowledge that God, alone, is unchanging in all He is and in all His works. While our circumstances will surely change, our lives take unknown, unwanted paths, we trust in an unchanging God who makes it possible for us to be "content" along with Paul.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

Does prayer change things?

There is a popular, oft repeated statement among believers that says "Prayer changes things." My response has always been: "Prayer does not change things. God does." Then I go on to explain what I mean. Once in a confirmation class I gave my view and was criticized by a mother who was attending with her daughter. Though I don't think she completely understood what I was saying, her criticism had some merit and did make me think. I went back the next week and began the class with some hopefully clarifying statements.

You, my readers, may not agree with me and might call me a "nick picker." Prayer is a powerful, yet intimate Christian discipline. In prayer we grow in our knowledge of God and closer in our relationship with Him. Our closest human relationships are those where there is trust and open communication. A close relationship with God requires the same. So, when I approach God in prayer, I approach in awe of who He is, in humility because of His mercy and grace, somewhat in surprise that He cares for me and what concerns me and in the absolute knowledge that He hears and He answers. Only with those approaches does my knowlege and relationship with God grow.

Maybe you have heard someone say when a prayer has not been answered the way we prefer that we haven't prayed enough. It's as if the length or the number of our prayers make the difference. For me, those things demonstrate the quality of our communication with God and the trust we have, not only that God does answer, but in the answer itself. I have been blessed and am being blessed by the prayers of God's people! My dear friend, Peggy, reminded me not long ago about the constant, fervent prayer support Tom and I both had when we were at FOPC. And her comment reminded me of how much I rested, knowing that God was working in both our lives and in their lives as well. I need that now.

Here are some requests: 1) Tom has gotten his meds mixed up two days in a row, making me know that he can no longer be left to take them on his own. Every dose will have to be monitored. He and I went alone for my treatment today and he was a real trooper and as much "in charge" as he could be these days. We got home about 3:30 p.m. and he immediately crashed. For the next six hours he has been nervous as a "cat on a hot tin roof" and needed assistance with everything. I have not been able to rest for having to tend to him. Please pray for the stress to be taken from him and that I will be patient as I care for him.

2) Today I saw an older lady and her adult daugther who have been in the office the last three or four times we have been there. The older lady is the patient and it is obvious by her actions and by some of what I've heard her daughter say that the lady is fiercely independent and quite a fighter. She won't even let her daughter go in with her to see the doctor. This morning the lady had on a makeshift sling and was there to get a shot--our doctor wasn't in today. The receptionist asked the daughter about the sling, the daughter told about some pain the lady was having and said she had hoped to ask the doctor. She was sent across the street to have the arm x-rayed. As I was leaving I noticed the lady and her daughter were back. Something told me to stop and talk to the lady and Someone put some words in my mouth. She told me that the source of pain is a tumor in her upper arm, pushing on the bone and threatening to break it. Now, after completing twenty something radiation treatments, she has to begin again to try to shrink the tumor. With that, she began to cry. At that moment I was no longer another patient, but Pastor Margaret. I simply said to her that I have learned that God is greater than any tumor or disease that has threatened me and I know He is greater than her current tumor. I asked her name and said, "Elvie, I'll pray for you." Will you pray for her as well? I went to the car and thanked God for that pastoral opportunity.

3) I believed that the blood drawn this morning would reveal really low red counts that were causing extreme fatigue. The draw revealed really low counts, but not red, white. The red is low, but not so low as to be a problem yet. Medicine itself is causing the fatigue. Low white counts started my crisis two years ago when I spent ten days in the hospital because I was neutropenic and highly suceptible to infection. They did go ahead with the treatment and gave me six pages of information of what I can and cannot do--including no raw foods and avoiding crowds and those with colds etc. Wouldn't you know that Elisa has a fever virus and I can't see her this weekend? Please pray that my body will respond positively to this drug and that the white count will have a miraculous recovery.

4) Join me in thanking God for the love and support of family and friends. Both of my children know how to encourage me in their own special ways. Liz and Tommy keep us fed when I don't feel up to cooking and fit us into an already busy schedule. Marty and I stay close by phone and her voice and the baby sounds of Christopher in the background put a smile on my face. What a wonderful family we have!

Maybe prayer does change things. It has changed my heart. It has drawn me closer to God and to God's people through whom He blesses me.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

What a day!

Sometime around 2 a.m. I awoke with a tickle in my throat and got up to get a cough drop. I was almost back to sleep when some tiny, yippy dogs over our back fence started barking--though I'm not sure I can justify calling their noise "barking." (Tom and I like BIG dogs.) At any rate, I was up from then until 6:15 a.m. The next thing I remember was Tom standing by the bed telling me that he sure had some funny looking pills to take this morning. That woke me up to be sure! I asked him to bring the pill case so I could see what he had taken and he had taken the pills we keep in the extra partition--extra pills. So, instead of his regular medication he took a hydrocodone, a xanax and two supplemental sinemet pills. I encouraged him to get back in bed and I got up. He slept until 11. After my night and his messed up meds, we have not done much but sit around--makes me feel useless.

I had planned to make pear honey. The cupboard is bare--haven't made any since my last trip to Apple Hill. Tommy and I found pears at the Farmers' Market Saturday but I haven't had time nor energy to cook them. Pear honey is one of my sweetest childhood memories from my grandmother. The family likes for me to make it because they know I think it tastes best on homemade biscuits. Tomorrow is the designated day to cook the pears and maybe make biscuits for the freezer.

Last night we went to Tommy and Liz's for a little bit of child care. Both of them had meetings and we were happy to be pressed into service. Meredith is going to play school two mornings a week at the church and yesterday was her third time to go. She couldn't wait to tell anyone who would listen about "Humpty, Humpty" who sat on the wall and Jack and Jill who went up the hill to get a pail of water--maybe they were learning the "up and down" concept. I asked what happened to them and she told me Jack hit his head on a rock. Mer Mer didn't get all the words right, but I was amazed that she had gotten as much as she did the first time. She loves to cuddle and I had a good time holding her in one arm while giving Elisa a bottle with the other.

I also got to pick up Sarah from dance. She's having a great time and is very limber--not a trait she inherited from this grandmother. Maybe it's a Heard trait. She looks so cute in her tights and leotard. Watch out Mom and Dad! The boys will be calling before you know it.

Drew and Jake couldn't wait to eat their supper and get outside to play before dark. Jake showed me the trees he's been climbing. He's fortunate to have a few friends in the neighborhood he can play with on the weekends. He is in beginner band this year and we think doing well--playing alto saxophone as his dad and granddad did before him.

I asked Drew if he would like to ask the blessing last night. He said yes. When all the children say it together, they say the usual "God is great," but if one prays by him or herself, then that one prays a spontaneous prayer. Drew is six and I had never heard him pray on his own before last night. I know his heavenly father was pleased just as his grandmama was. When he was four he wanted a Bible for Christmas so I looked until I found an illustrated Bible, not a Bible storybook. He was glad to get it, but I hadn't seen him with it again until this past Sunday. He was reading it while we put the finishing touches on lunch and he told me he had gotten to page 28. Then he told me what he'd been reading. A couple of weeks ago at school he had something to contribute to his science class when the teacher taught on the stars, planets, etc. Our Sunday School is using the rotation method this year which means that the Bible story for the children is the same for several weeks, but they experience it through arts & crafts, storytelling, drama, music, even taste on different Sundays. It's a terrific educational method and the children have responded well. In Drew's school room during science, he raised his hand to tell the teacher he knew something else about the stars, then told about God's promise to Abraham and his decendants being more numerous than the stars in the sky. He got the message and isn't shy about spreading it! There's a lesson here for us grownups.

Friday is treatment day and, once again, we covet your prayers. I'll let you know how things go. The fridge is stocked, I have plenty to read and my helper is on tap to come twice next week. With family here to help, we are all set.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

This past week has gone by quickly, but I can't tell you why. One day I spent a couple of hours at the church working on a project; one day Tom drove with me to Memphis for a meeting I had to attend; we kept Elisa for a couple of hours one morning; I spent a day going to the Farmers' Market, the grocery and then cooking Sunday lunch for the family. This morning my body reminded me that I don't have the energy I once had and I am tired. Twenty six years ago when I had chemo the first time, I determined that treatment would not alter my lifestyle. I vowed not to let it get the best of me and for the most part--and with the help of family and friends--it didn't. Now, having begun the fifth treatment schedule, the determination is not as strong. Oh, it's there in my mind, but my body can't keep up with what the mind tells it. The honest confession is that in 1982 pride motivated me; in 2008 I am secure in the knowing that I don't have to try so hard: God is giving me the grace and it's just fine to be tired. Whew! What a relief!

I'm excited to be working with the church on what I hope will be an intentional, comprehensive ministry by, for and with older adults here. A telephone survey was completed a couple of months ago, the surveys have been compiled and I'm ready to meet with staff to give them my opinions of what the surveys mean for ministry. My late friend and mentor, John Rhea, used to caution about the "gatekeeper" and how that particular person--the senior pastor, to be exact--held the key to whether or not the ministry would be accepted. So, I'm praying that the Holy Spirit will overrule the negative response I expect.

Though I am now officially retired, I remain on Presbytery's Committee on Ministry. We met at a church on the far eastern side of Memphis Thursday and Tom rode with me. Both discouraging and encouraging reports were on the agenda. This is an interesting presbytery. It includes churches in a strip of Arkansas close to the Mississippi River, the bootheel of Missouri, those in Memphis and in the rural section of West Tennessee. Memphis is obviously the largest city and has the most PC(USA) churches; Jackson is the next largest, but with only one PC(USA) church. A county south of us on the Mississippi border has eight PC(USA) churches and only one with an installed pastor. It's safe to say that the majority of churches in the rural areas in all three states have no installed pastors, however, some have interims or stated supplies. One minister on the committee spoke of the problems that exist in these small towns that result in pastors not choosing to accept calls to churches there. The problems are real, but I couldn't help but wonder if in today's world ministry is considered to be just another job rather than a calling. I wanted to be able to jump up and volunteer to serve in one of these places, but my situation at this time says otherwise. The encouraging report came from a 200-300 member church with a ministry to Korean students in a university town. A retired Korean PC(USA) minister met with our committee to request permission to "labor within our bounds" so as to provide leadership for the students. Here is a retired gentleman, willing to serve where God calls and a group of young adults, willing to welcome him as their leader and pastor. Our Korean brethren have an "all out" view of discipleship and servanthood, coupled with honor for older adults in their midst.

This morning my worship experiece was with 2nd Presbyterian, Memphis, via TV. We had planned to attend services in Humboldt where our friend Paul is the pastor. The fatigue mentioned earlier kept us home. I would really like to be at Fair Oaks celebrating the ministry of Henry Wells as he retires. He and his wife Debbie and their two daughters remain on my prayer list, but they are especially on my mind this weekend. It's not easy to retire from something that is life itself. As I wrote a message to be read at the service at Fair Oaks this morning, I had an "aha" realization. Your may retire from a position, but you never retire from ministry. Is that not true for every believer? Is this not what Scripture teaches? As followers of Christ, should our lives not always reflect Him? Should we not always live out the fact that the One Who is in us is greater than the one who is in the world? Henry will never retire from ministry and those who know him will continue to receive the blessing.

This has gone on long enough. We'll talk about the grandchildren on another day.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

Throwing down the gauntlet . . .

That's it. I love a challenge. Never tell me there is something I cannot do. If I put my mind to it, I'll try to prove you wrong.

No, I haven't lost my mind and yes, I wrote my last post less than twelve hours ago. I have just read my daughter's page and unconsciously, she has put a challenge before me. They have been house hunting, looking for a place to live closer to her husband's job. One of their criteria has been a house with a bed and bath on the first floor so we won't have to climb stairs when we visit. Should she be optimistic and anticipate continued visits from us? Or should she be realistic and accept the fact that it's highly possible that our visits may not happen? She expressed the more realistic notion that another visit from us is highly unlikely.

Her words hit me. Since my last visit with the doctor and the commencement of treatment I have had this calm sense of urgency to get things done--put everything in order--say goodbye to my friends--quit procrastinating. I try to take every advantage of being with the grandchildren. I've never wanted my cancer to change the way our family celebrates holidays or the way we live day to day, for that matter so that means planning ahead a bit more carefully.

Honestly, I do wonder just how much more the body will take. I have finally come to grips with the "incurable" word spoken by my doctor almost two and a half years ago. However, that, by no means, indicates a lack of trust in God. I still believe in His faithfulness, probably now more than ever. Maybe it's an acceptance of the fact that I am not crucial to the continuation of the lives of those I love. God will provide for my precious Tom. My children will continue to be the outstanding adults that they are. My grandchildren will graduate, go to college, marry, raise their own families. Life does indeed go on!

It will go on after I'm gone and it will go on while I continue taking chemo. I will not settle into an attitude of what has been looking like complacency. I will believe that this drug might just be the one that sends the cancer packing. I will trust God for the miracle of healing--here or in the hereafter.

I will visit my daughter again!

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

We are almost on football overload. It started Thursday night with the on-slaught of televised college games. Thus far in three days we have seen four SEC teams play. Three out of four have been runaway victories for the SEC; the fourth, the team of our choice is once more embarassing itself by making mistake after mistake and we're headed for a loss. I know it's only a game, but I'm tired of "waiting until next year."

The best part of the week was a visit today from special friends from Mississippi. They drove up among all the folks from Louisianna who were evacuating. Our friends said that basic supplies were already sold out in Jackson and that they saw at least two service stations already out of gas. It would seem that people would rather be safe than sorry. But, I digress. We loved being with our friends, seeing pictures of their grandchildren and hearing about their family. Tommy and four of his children came down to say hello. It was a great afternoon.

Tom had his follow up appointment with the neurologist Thursday. Since he was seen the first of August he has had blood tests, an MRI and an x-ray of his skull and spine. The first two were fine, but the x-ray showed bone spurs in the neck area and a couple of bulging discs. The doctor thinks we have discovered the root of Tom's headaches and has ruled out a jaw problem. Now we know what we think might be at the root of his headaches, but no promise of solution. I did have a really thorough discussion with the doctor and believe he clarified some things. A slight change in medication will begin next week and we're hoping that might be helpful overall for the Parkinson's.

We continue to keep our eye on the storm headed toward the Gulf Coast and we continue to pray for all the many people in its path. How well we remember the storms in our lifetime! Before we lived in California we wondered how people could be content living with the threat of earthquakes. When we lived in California we learned that the people there wondered how we could live in tornado prone areas or in those places affected by hurricanes. I have compared illness to storms in other blogs I've written and once again, I think of the similarities. Before cancer I might see a person in treatment or struggling with it and say to myself: "I could never do what they are doing." Then, cancer knocked on my door. Whether there is a storm, an illness or some other unsettling situation, the only way to get through it is by trusting in the One who is more powerful than the storm, more present than the illness and more gracious than that which disturbs us. I am thankful that I know that One, but more importantly, I am thankful that He knows me and calls me by name.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

How soon one forgets!

Some of the wondering of last week has answers. I wondered how the treatment would affect me. Now I know. The sudden "sock it to me" fatigue didn't accompany this drug. It was rather slow in coming and it finally dawned on me why I am so tired and energyless--the red count must have dropped. How could I forget lowered blood counts? I also got a series of blister-like bumps on my feet and legs. I showed them to Liz and she asked if they were chiggers. So, we dubbed them "chemo chiggers." (If you're not familiar with redbug or chigger bites you won't know what I mean. Believe me. You're not missing anything.)

Hurricane Fay made it to West Tennessee today bringing soaking rain showers. More is expected, but not to the extent Florida and other states got it. Everything is clean and a beautiful shade of green. I love the way it smells and the way it looks after a good rain. My thoughts and prayers are with those who have had flooding rains--the smell is not so pleasant, it's not clean, nor beautiful.

Are you not tempted to ask why some are flooded and some are spared? The Bible says that it "rains on the just and the unjust." That's common grace. It's God's specific grace that gets my attention and it's that on which I rely. When I think about the diseases that plague Tom and me, I could ask, "Why us?" Spiritually and theologically I don't ask that question. I do wonder about both cancer and Parkinson's medically. Is there something we should have done differently? Is there something we need to know to tell our children? A few years ago I had gene testing to see if I have a defective gene that would have prompted both breast and ovarian cancer. I learned that I'm not defective, only unique. That was good news for my children and grandchildren as far as not inheriting the gene goes, but they could be as random as I. How can my experience help them? I do ask that question almost daily.

It is a fact: God is good all the time. All the time God is good.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

It's a day for fussing, a day for wondering. Little things irritate. It's the fourth day after treatment and I'm still wondering what will happen next.

I remember well the side effects of Doxil when I had it six years ago, but it was administered along with two other drugs. Did three together make a difference? Does the current condition of my body make a difference? One of the most annoying side effects was sores in my mouth and throat. The good thing was I got to sip on milk shakes--with no guilt. The bad thing was it was really difficult to talk--bad for me, maybe good for others. This morning I awoke with a sore throat and a bump on the end of my tongue. Immediately I wondered if this is the beginning of a side effect. It's not fun to wonder.

Our helper didn't show up and hasn't called. A family with whom she has a long history pressed her into service last week and I heard in a round about way yesterday that the family has had another crisis. That I understand. What I don't understand is what's so hard about picking up the phone and letting someone know? We really depended on her coming today and have been wondering if it's time to increase the time she spends with us.

Tom is out of one of his meds and has gone almost 48 hours without it. We've been having "discussions" with the supplier and the insurance company concerning the prescription as written versus a generic. It's not productive to wonder how the insurance company can make better decisions than the neurologist. Wondering causes my dander and my blood pressure to rise. I spoke with the nurse yesterday and wonder why she hasn't called back. How long can Tom go without it?

We had wanted to make a quick trip to Mississippi this week so I could attend a luncheon honoring a long time friend who has retired. In years past we would have just packed a bag, jumped in the car and taken off. The operative word here is "past." How did we get old so soon? I wonder . . .

There are other things that cause even more of wonder: our wonderful years together; an abundance of friends; a loving, caring family; beautiful grandchildren. Life itself is a wonder! Why waste time wondering about the irritants? Focusing on the wonders of God's blessings is the only way.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

Several of the past few days the verse, "This is the day the Lord has made; we will rejoice and be glad in it" kept running through my mind. As Friday and the return visit to the oncologist approached, I asked myself if I could stop the verse from "running through" and have it stay with me all day long. Thankfully, I can tell you now, in the early Saturday morning hours, that it was a good day: God's handiwork was present everywhere; we rejoiced in the report, the treatment, the clinic personnel who do indeed become your friends; the love and support of family, including grandchildren who don't understand exactly, but know enough to give support in their own ways; and we especially rejoiced in the end of the day birthday celebration for Tom.

The scans indicate disease that has progressed since the last ones were taken in April, but the good news is it has not spread to other sites. The radiologist who wrote the report seemed to write in more complete and understandable language than some of the others, a style a layperson like I appreciate. His words will help me not wonder everytime there is a new (and normal) feeling of passing discomfort. After all I have had major surgery in my abdomen, I'm not a spring chicken, I am overweight and have had just a bit of chemo in my lifetime. Normal wear and tear on the body takes its toll!

My oncologist is kind and gentle, a man of few words, but he reminds me of an old TV commercial for a brokerage firm. Do you know the one I mean? The setting was usually very noisy with many people engaged in conversation. Suddenly, one person would lean over to another and quietly say, "When E.F. Hutton speaks . . ." , the room would grow silent and everyone would stop to listen. When Dr. Reed speaks, I listen. I know he has researched my condition and has used his best knowledge and wisdom to prescribe what is best for me. The drug of choice, this the fourth time to be treated for ovarian, is Doxil, a drug I had the first time in the clinical trial at UC Davis. This time it is the only drug, whereas the first time it was an addition to the usually prescribed drugs for my particular cancer and stage. Though I was told today that it is less toxic than some, I blamed all the quirky side effects on it. We'll see how it affects me this time. I had the first treatement today, will have one in September and October and then re-evaluate. The questions remain: how long will chemo be able to control the cancer? How long will I be able to tolerate the drugs? Will I have to have some sort paper to certify me as a "toxic waste site?"

A part of my faith statment centers around question and answer number one in the Westminster Shorter Catechism: What is man's chief end? Man's chief end is to glorify God and to enjoy Him forever. So the greater question for me will always be: Today and in what way will I glorify God and enjoy Him? Cancer will one day destroy my body, but it will never destroy my relationship with God. He has all the answers.

Thank you for all your continued prayers.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

Our trip to Corinth to the oncologist last Friday didn't provide all the answers we were seeking. A scan was necessary for the doctor to make specific recommendations so I had that done today and we will return to the oncologist this coming Friday. Visiting with him last week sent me scurrying to the computer to see what I could learn on my own. I read and heard before so much of what I found. I know the original diagnosis; I know what I have now is called recurrent cancer; I know a little about the different drugs that are used for treatment. BUT, there are so many unknowns! I wrote someone that it's like adding two and two and getting five. There are many variables. We do know that some sort of treatment is coming again--just not what it will be or when it will begin. We covet your prayers--certainly for a miracle and especially for God's all sufficient grace.

The day began by our going to the neurology clinic for Tom to have an MRI. This was the last test in a series of three that were ordered before he returns the end of the month. Tonight we are tired of all that both his test and mine entailed.

After a late lunch we hurried to a postal place to get my retirement application in to the Board of Pensions. Since leaving Fair Oaks I have been on disability, but eligibility for that is expiring this month and it's time for me to officially retire. I'm not sure which words I find the most distasteful: disabled or retired. I never really thought of myself as not being able to work and retirement was always in my far distance future. That was my plan, not God's. This morning I read Proverbs 11 and this verse of promise struck me: A generous man will prosper; he who refreshes others will himself be refreshed. One large part of ministry is serving God by serving God's people. That service comes in different shapes and forms. It might be by teaching and/or preaching God's Word; maybe by discipling others; certainly by offering care and compassion. Pastoral care was a large part of my call at Fair Oaks and God equipped me. He provided the resources I needed to respond to the needs of others and by responding I was blessed. The verse in Proverbs, in my mind, is a part of the promise of abundant life. Here's another prayer request: please pray that even in retirement, God will give me the opportunity to bless others.

Tonight we are enjoying some leftover jambalya that Tommy cooked for a church dinner yesterday. I had a little taste when I went down to make the dessert for the dinner and it was really good. I'd love to be able to give you all a taste.

News of the grandchildren: Jacob, Sarah and Drew all like their new teachers. Jacob is looking forward to beginner band this year; Sarah is glad to be in the same class with her friends; Drew is in first grade and seems ready to take on whatever comes. Meredith is going to play school two mornings a week, rather than day care. She'll be in charge after the first month. Elisa is now doing more crawling than scooting. I have to hurry to keep up with her. Christopher has learned to growl, prefers vegetables and tolerates fruit--like his mother. Mallory is a good big sister to Christopher and since she's in a year round school, she's already started her "new year." Everyday brings something new from each one of them. Aren't grandchildren special?

Have a good week. We'll keep you posted on things at this end.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

God works in mysterious ways!

Last week while in my "storing up for winter mode" I pondered the content of the Sunday School class I was to lead on Sunday. My thoughts centered on the Luke passage I wrote on in my last blog: Gabriel's visit conversation with Mary. The theme that emerged was that of "servanthood" and included another Mary washing the feet of Jesus in John and the Matthew passage that tells of God's Chosen Servant, quoting Isaiah 42. I started by asking the class to identify the place in Scripture where the three statements, "The Lord is with you; Nothing wll be impossible with God: and Let it be to me according to your word;" occurred. Next, we talked about each statement in its context and then how each had been important in our lives and ways in the future, each would impact us. (The rest of the class discussion directed attention to what it means for us to be servants of the Lord and the distinction between being a servant and serving.)

Yesterday when I learned that the CA125 had risen seven more points I knew God had directed me to prepare that lesson for me, not for the twenty or so people who came to class. A mystery to be sure!

Some have asked for a copy of the sermon I preached on Elisa's baptism day. It centered on God's promises to His children and I spoke of three that have been particularly meaningful in our family: "I will never leave you nor forsake you" from Joshua 1; "It is of the Lord's mercies that we are not consumed. They are new every morning. Great is God's faithfulness," Lamentations 3; and Jesus speaking to Paul in II Corinthians, "My grace is sufficient for you." God's promises are the very fabric of life!

Who knew that those same three promises would invade my consciousness as I was trying to go to sleep last night? Weeks ago when preparing that sermon I acknowledged what they have meant to us, not realizing I would need to cling to them again soon. They are words that never leave me, but this morning they are bold and in all caps! God knew what was needed.

On a recent "Good Morning America" there was a feature on a baby's smile and how it affects others. Babies make us smile when they smile, with their actions and sometimes when they do nothing at all. The fact the feature was highlighting is that our brains actually do react by affecting dopamine production and release which is necessary and beneficial. You may or may not know that Parkinson's is the result of decreased dopamine in the brain and the most effective treatment, thus far, is to replace that dopamine with medication.

Yesterday we kept Elisa for a couple of hours while the children's babysitter took the other four children swimming. Just being with Elisa produces smiles! She had not been here since she started scooting and crawling and was in rare form. I was telling her daddy what she did when I set her on the floor with her toys and he said, "I bet she already had mapped out where she wanted to go." How right he was! She sat, jumped up and down on her fanny, looked to see if we were watching and with a determined grin on her face began exploring. I've said before that she is good medicine for us both. Now we know one reason why--it helps with the dopamine Tom continues to lose.

God works in mysterious ways. We are humbled and grateful to be a part of His work.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

Camp NaCoMe is not the St. Francis Westin!

Our Church here has been having a weekend family camp at NaCoMe for over forty years. It is a treasured tradition. I suspect that little has changed in all these years except that in more recent years the cabins have had air conditioning added. NaCoMe is located in middle Tennessee eighty miles from Jackson. Tom and I went there when there was no air conditioning and when we were much younger. Childcare is available for babies and young pre-schoolers, the elementary children have fun with crafts and middle-schoolers through adults gather in the pavillion for the program--this year: "Christmas in July." During free time children of all ages hunt for crawdads in the creek, swim in the frigid lake, canoe, washer pitch, fish and play impromtu games of volleyball, etc. Tom and I spent our free time rocking, watching grandchildren play and visiting with others as lazy as we were.

The heat and humidity were brutal. The campers who preceeded us didn't clean the cabin and my sheets didn't fit the bed. I woke up a lot during the night, to retuck the bottom sheegt and trying to find a comfortable position. I came home with back problems I haven't had in years. The St. Francis had all the ammenities one could want--and then some. The weather in San Francisco was cool enough to warrant a jacket even in the afternoon. The pillows on my bed were so comfortable that I came home and bought some for my own bed. It was luxury one weekend and the rustic life the next--quite a difference. One weekend was spent with Marty and Christopher, the next was spent with Tommy, Liz and children. The delight of being with family is the same. Being with family any time, any place is always my favorite place to be!

Tom and I made our first of the week trek to the Farmers' Market yesterday. We bought a box of tomatoes and a couple of bell peppers in anticipation of making chili sauce/tomato relish later in the week. My tomato man threw in a couple of jalopenos just 'cuz I'm a good customer. We also bought peaches to make dessert for last night and enough corn to have to eat this week and to put some in the freezer. I have two kinds of basil growing by the back steps and one sprig of rosemary in a pot--not at all like rosemary in our yard in California which had to be pruned constantly. The basil is doing well and I'm experimenting with fun ways to use it. Do you have any good ideas?

The young woman who led the retreat, a recent graduate of Columbia Seminary, did a good job of involving everyone as we looked at Scriptures most often identified with Advent and Christmas. She balanced fun activities with serious questions. One of the passages we talked about was the angel's visit to Mary, a passage that I have both preached and taught. It's also a passage that I use for personal meditation, pondering the statements: "The Lord is with you;" "nothing will be impossible with God;" and "Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word." We could have spent the entire weekend on this one passage or even these three statements. Think of how our lives, our witness would be if we had always on our hearts that the Lord is with us, that nothing is impossible with God and we declared that "I am a servant of the Lord. Whatever you choose, whatever you desire, wherever you send me, let it be so." The statements are inter-related--nothing is impossible because God is with me and I can live and be according to God's word because God is with me and nothing is impossible.

"Think on these things."

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

It finally happened! Tom and I visited theFarmers' Market mid-morning yesterday and "what to my wondering eyes did appear"----pink eye, purple hull peas. We bought half a bushel and since yesterday morning I have shelled and put up seven pints in the freezer and cooked another pint for supper tonight. They went well with country fried steak, mashed potatoes and gravy, tomato-cucumber marinade and the blackberry cobbler yet to be eaten. My thumbs are stained and tender, but what satisfaction to have those peas in my freezer! Now, if only I'd had some tomato relish to serve along with them.

I "gifted" the grandchildren last night with things from the conference, souvenirs from San Francisco and handmade aprons from a friend in Sacramento. Meredith had us put on her apron, opened a giant sucker Aunt Marty sent and carried around her cable car replica for the rest of the night (and I'm told today as well), saying all the time, "I just love it." Jake was spending the night with a friend so he didn't get his goodies until this afternoon when he and Drew walked down to our house to say hello. Sarah had six teeth pulled yesterday (has two more to come out Monday) but nothing can dim her beautiful smile! We should all take a lesson from children. For the most part, they just like the notion that you thought about them enough while you were away that you brought them something. What may seem like nothing to me is a big deal to them.

Too often we don't acknowledge this day as a gift. We take days, life, breath, necessities of life for granted. We act as if those gifts are nothing, but what big deals they are! Last night Tom and I went to the monthly Parkinson's Support Group and as I listened to people share the particular symptoms they suffer I couldn't help but silently thank God for Tom and the things he doesn't have. It's true he cannot do the things he once did, but he loves, he enjoys his family, his faith sustains him and his sense of humor keeps me laughing. He will always be the love of my life and I know everyday we have is a gift.

"This is the day the Lord has made. We will rejoice and be glad in it." We will also eat peas all winter and be glad.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

To tell you what last week meant to me will take more than just a few words! I'm home, so glad to be back with Tom. Half of Monday is gone and I've done little more than get up, eat breakfast, lunch, check the mail and e-mail and wash a load of sheets. It's good to be lazy!

Being back at Fair Oaks was really special. In many ways it brought closure to our quick "get away" when we moved to Tennessee a year and a half ago. I honestly didn't think I would ever be there again or see my church family and that has been a source of real grief. I loved seeing so many at lunch on Tuesday and wished I could have had a personal conversation with each and every one. Still the welcome, the hugs and especially the prayer at the close of lunch filled me with a joy that will stay with me always. I may live far away, but we remain close in spirit.

The blogger convention was interesting, to say the least. There must have been a thousand people there--mostly young mother types, with a few men sprinkled here and there. They had come from across the country and talked about how blogging could be helpful to healing, how to post positively, how to blog to work for social change. Probably the most amazing thing to me was the marketing aspect of blogging. There was a ballroom full of sponsors and exhibitors, hawking their wares and offering free samples of children's games, CD's, computer software--you name it.

Of course, the best part of the convention was spending time with Marty and Christopher. He was a great little traveler and the hit of every crowd. He has this little infectious grin that won't quit.

Now I'm back in my own place, adjusting to the time change, the heat and humidity, trying to find stuff in the kitchen and resorting and folding the socks. When I found my hollow handle dinner knives in the dishwasher and the socks mismatched in fat balls instead of the way I do them, I heard the words of my mother-in-law saying, "Remember, no one ever does things exactly the way you do," her point being: be grateful for the help and don't sweat the small stuff. I could not have been away from home last week without Tommy and Liz and the lady who began helping us last summer. They each deserve a halo!

Thanks for reading.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

Here's an update on the peas--none, nada, zero! We were at the Farmers' Market mid-morning and I noticed the welcome sight of beautiful, tasty, pink eye, purple hull peas being put through the automatic sheller. A man had brought them to be shelled. Bummer. Again, came the promise: "I'll have some Tuesday." Fat chance. I won't be here and I doubt if anyone else in my family would get up to be at the market at 5 a.m. when sales begin. Liz is bringing home lots of tomatoes from her trip to see her parents. I suggested to Tommy he might like to have my chili sauce recipe that is at its best when served as relish on those elusive peas. I wonder how it would be by itself--without the peas.

Still, I'm thankful for the bounty we do enjoy.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

Monday we made our monthly trip to Corinth to have blood work done. Tuesday brought the news we didn't want to hear: my CA125 is up ten points to 22.9. I've long known that oncology nurses are a rare breed and Wendy is no exception. She called to give me the results, to remind me that under 35 is normal and to say she would talk with the doctor and call me again yesterday. He reminded her that the April scans, while not perfect, were okay, nothing was found on examination so he's not concerned at this point. She conveyed all that with the admonition for me not to be concerned yet. Tom's comment was: "The doctor is not married to you either."

I know the drill--what my current doctor thinks--he's thorough and I trust him. Then I hear my California doctor telling me he wanted the count under 20 and that the amount of the jump in the count is telling. Here's the real deal. Good as they are, neither doctor is actually the healer. They know what they know from study and experience and what they tell me is an expert opinion at best. Should I be concerned? I'm not. Why waste a perfectly good month stewing over something that is out of my control? I know the real Healer. I'll let Him be in charge.

Tommy and I made an eight o'clock visit to the Farmers' Market Tuesday to buy peas to freeze, only to be disappointed. The man who we buy from said we should be there Wednesday between seven and seven thirty and he'd have some. So, after a mostly sleepless night for me, Tom and I got up and rushed off to buy the promised peas. There were none. Again, the message was, "I'll have some tomorrow." I couldn't go yesterday--had to have my car at the dealership early for a big check-up. Today there is too much else to get done. By now, however, I'm obsessed with peas, determined not to be denied. This winter when we're enjoying pink eye, purple hull treats, I'll think of summer and know they were worth all the trouble it's taking to buy them.

Sunday is Elisa's baptism. In addition to doing the baptism, I will also preach. It will be a memorable day for us. Tom will have tears of joy in his eyes and our hearts will be full. The sermon, Letter to Elisa, will be my attempt at sharing what baptism means, that it a sign of God's promise made to each of us. He is our God; we are His people. Therefore, the promises He has made are true, never to be broken. He is faithful to them, to us. Lest I omit any of the lectionary for the day, I'll tell her what Psalm 119:105 says about God's word being a light for our way and then the P.S. for her parents and her church family from Deut. 6:4-9. She won't know a word I say, but she'll know who is holding her at the time of the baptism and I pray that my life will be a sermon for her in the days to come. The sermon really is a bringing together of what I most want all my grandchildren to know: Life is all about God and God's faithful promises; God has given us His word to guide us. The P.S. is a charge to adult family and church family be Godly examples.

Monday I'm off to Sacramento. I can't wait!!!!

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

It's a lazy July morning--hot and humid. People encountering the humidity for the first time often ask if one ever gets used to it. That's a difficult question to answer. If it's all you have ever known, it's accepted. If you have ever lived away from it for a while, as we did, you have to reacclimate. It takes longer to dry your hair, the air feels like it's squeezing you, pantyhose are pure misery and an unairconditioned car is torture. But, humidity is a small price to pay for the wonders of living in the South!

The Fourth of July menu depends on what's available at the Farmers' Market and whether or not the best meat counter in town has good looking ribs. It's probably going to rain buckets but since our grill is on the back porch, a little rain won't slow us down. My Georgia family always has a BIG family reunion on the Fourth where everyone brings a churn of ice cream. My mouth starts watering every year about mid-afternoon when I think of them opening those churns. We're having blueberry pie with store bought ice cream--what a sacrilege! Our churn wore out some years back and hasn't been replaced. This week I gave in to convenience and ordered one of the newer models that uses a bowl you put in the freezer before processing. I can't wait to get started, but it won't get her in time for the Fourth. Hope your holiday is full of fun, family, friends and food.

Tom is taking his after breakfast nap. We have seen both the opthamalogist and the new primary care doctor this week. Reports on the eyes were good, no appreciable changes in vision and the usual age related things. Cataracts are present, but not a problem for either of us, and the presence of pre-macular disease was noted again in my case. Tom's headaches are not eye related. We liked the new primary care person, appreciated his thoroughness and friendliness. His response to Tom's headaches was to give a different pain medication and to tell him to have the neurologist pursue the problem. So, again, no answers. It's frustrating, but he won't let it get him down completely.

Yesterday we had a message on the answer machine from a man identifying himself as having worked for Tom in Vietnam and wondering if he had the right Tom. He did and they spoke for a few minutes late in the afternoon. His name was familiar to me, but it took me a while to remember why. After we went to bed last night I filled in the blanks and could tell Tom what I remembered. Honestly, I hadn't thought of that name in forty years, but slowly the pieces fell into place. The mind is amazing, a lot more so than modern technology. He found Tom the up- to -date way: Googled his name, found it associated with a case that listed his former law firm, called the office and got our number from a friend who works there. I understand that better than how my mind remembered. There might be a sermon illustration forth coming.

Today "our pastor" is coming for a visit--actually for lunch and a visit. He's not the pastor of our church here, but the friend in the neighboring town for whom I preach occasionally. Paul was the associate in our Mississippi church, called by a committee Tom moderated, and he and his wife became good friends. He and I shared seminary stories, have had good theological discussions, he was my mother's faithful visitor and during the months of chemo when we were in California he called me every week. Some ministers find it difficult to provide pastoral care to people in their local community, but Paul proved that pastoral care has no boundaries. He ministered to me across the miles and I will always remember. It was not his duty; it came from the pastor's heart God has given him. He is a special man of God.

Writing of Paul reminds me that I'd best go make the tea and set the table. The hydrangeas are already in place, the Sister Schubert rolls are thawing and the tomatoes are ripe for slicing. It's a Southern lunch in the making. Wish you could share!

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

There seems to be an enormous sink hole in our neighborhood. Tommy and his family have gone to Atlanta to visit friends and pick up Jacob who has been there since last Saturday. Don't get me wrong. We're glad they went. They need a break and I know well how it feeds the soul to visit with good friends. Still, we'll be happy to see them when they come home Sunday.

I'm looking forward to a break myself! Several weeks ago Marty asked if I would go with her to a conference in San Francisco. For a brief second I was thinking how ridiculous that was and then, bingo, it hit me: San Francisco is about two hours from Sacramento. Not only would I be able to spend some good mother-daughter-grandson time with Marty and Christopher, I would be able to visit Fair Oaks friends! What a special treat!

My friend and former assistant, Mary, is taking up where we left off a year and a half ago when we moved. She is organizing my schedule and helping me plan my time in Sacramento. I can't wait to be there and to see folks--only wish it could be a longer visit and that I could see everybody. As I type that, I think of many who have passed in the months we've been gone: Tom, Mary Margaret, Shirley, Florence, Ileone, Donna and others. I will miss them, but, in my mind will see them in familiar places at the church and thank God for the gifts they have been to me.

Tom won't make this trip. It's really a mother-daughter getaway and I'm not sure he's up to it right now anyway. Tommy will spend the nights at our house with him and our helper will come to help him with breakfast and lunch. There is a part of me that is most reluctant to leave him, but I know I have to practice what I preach: the caregiver or care-partner (as I prefer) needs time away to regroup and refresh.

Our schedule is full in the days before the trip. We both have eye appointments next week and a visit with our new primary care physician. I have a morning of work scheduled at the church on the next step toward organizing an older adult ministry. One day we'll drive to Corinth for the monthly blood check and the day before I leave, I preach and baptize Elisa. It's good to be busy.

This morning I started reading Job, the account of one who enjoyed great wealth and a big family. One day he "had it all" and the next, he had nothing or so it seemed. I know the story; I know that it was the devil who afflicted Job; I know that one of Job's friend is the shortest man in the Bible--Bildad, the Shuhite (sorry, couldn't resist); but today the message I received as I read and meditated on the words, was that in the midst of the worst of things, God is still in control. I even know that, but today I needed to hear it again. That knowledge is priceless as I learn of actions being taken by the General Assembly of the PC(USA), as I hear news of violence and abuse and as we live and manage personal afflictions.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

Sometimes I am moved to climb on a soapbox to sound off about concerns--though what concerns me may not concern anyone else or they may be things that one squeaky voice cannot change.

Yesterday morning I read the Jackson, MS newspaper online, as I do most mornings, and my attention was drawn to two different articles, both concerning food and the economy. The first informed the readers of the decline in the catfish industry in the Mississippi Delta. Some years back when the government declared how much cotton could and could not be grown, many Delta planters converted some of their acreage to catfish ponds. I had never particularly had a taste for the old style river catfish, bottom feeders as they are, but pond raised catfish is quite tasty. Catfish began to show up on the classiest of menus and their production provided jobs for many who had lost out to more mechanized farming techniques. Now, both jobs and the supply of catfish is threatened because the farmers have to sell their product for less than what it costs to produce it--a fact I'm sure can be repeated in many areas of the country about many products.
Too many big businesses are making too much money at the expense of too many "little guys."

The second article was about the hard time shrimpers are having in the Gulf of Mexico. To me gulf shrimp are absolutely the best! And they are harder and harder to find!! They are nowhere to be found in Jackson, TN, but I did see some in a fish counter in Raleigh, NC. Here, I have to settle for farm raised shrimp from Ecuador. Do you realize how many of our food products are being imported, not because we can't or don't produce them, but because of lower costs? The article I read told of one shrimper who has a boat with a 2500 gallon tank which he fills with diesel at $4 a gallon, a whopping $10,000 worth of fuel--and we thought a trip to the pump with our vehicles was bad. That much fuel lasts twenty days. He gets shrimp, but the market isn't as good as it once was because of the lower cost of imported, mass produced shrimp. A big wholesaler on the coast suggested that the consumer go straight to the boats to buy (not exactly convenient for those who don't live closeby) and ask when get ready to order shrimp in a restaurant if they serve Gulf shrimp.

For you readers in California, the Gulf shrimp concern is not an issue, but it is representative of many of the food products grown in your state. When I lived there I used to shop and see fruit from South America, citrus from Florida or Texas, other products from Mexico and wonder, "Why would I want to buy something not grown locally? The flavor is usually better, it's fresher and it supports the local economy." Our West Tennessee Farmers' Market has a section that sells only products grown in the state and occasionally I ask where something was grown just to be sure. (I have to go to another section to find Mississippi sweet potatoes, simply the best.) I can buy strawberries in the grocery store from Watsonville, CA that look just like the ones I bought when I lived in California. They look the same, but they don't taste the same--picked too early so they could be packaged and shipped elsewhere.

So, where am I headed and what's the point of this rambling? What can we do? Eat more catfish and help stamp out poverty. Seriously, many folks on the Welfare rolls would rather not be there and would not be if they had jobs to support themselves and their families. Buy from local sources when you can. Let restaurants and other food providers know you prefer American grown food. We have better regulations on our foodstuffs and the wherewithal to trace tainted or contaminated food. Our consumption of American grown and made products is good for our economy and the provision of jobs to the unemployed goes a long way in making a better, stronger country.

Today I may sound more like a politician than a pastor. That's not my intention. To be pastoral is to care for others, have their best interests at heart. Jesus fed the hungry. He helped the fishermen. He taught us to live simply, relying on the abundance that comes from God and He warned against greed. Knowing that pushes me up on my soapbox.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

Sometime in the wee hours of the morning, I remember saying out loud, "I love my bed." We got home yesterday afternoon after a wonderful week with Marty and family. The trip was long, there was construction that delayed us in the mountains of North Carolina, our car was loaded with the usual stuff and all the extra things from my shopping excursions while there and it had to be unloaded and brought inside the house. Whew! I was a bit more tired than I wanted to admit! But, as a furniture dealer in a neighboring town says in his TV commercials, "It's worth the drive!" We had a memorable time, to say the least.

Late yesterday afternoon we went to eat supper with Liz and the grandchildren. Tommy and Jacob, the oldest, are at a middle school church conference all week. Liz cooked vegetables from the Farmers' Market and I now feel as if summer is officially here even if it doesn't begin until Friday. Sarah looked taller and pretty as ever. Drew had a ballgame, so we didn't get to see him but a few minutes. Meredith talked non-stop in her own language, but fortunately it's okay when you don't understand her to just nod and she's content to continue. Elisa smiled when she saw us like she was glad to see us and shared the new noises she has learned since we've been away. I can't wait to get Christopher in the midst of his cousins and watch them play together!
Being a grandmother definitely falls in the category of God's abundant blessings!

Sunday I had the privilege of baptizing Christopher. I cannot tell you just how special it is to hold your grandchild, a child of the covenant, and administer that sacrament. (I have baptized Drew, Meredith, Christopher and look forward to baptizing Elisa in a few weeks.) In the days prior to the baptism I was thinking, as I always do, about why we baptize infants, the significance of it and how to share those thoughts with the congregation. Not everyone understands the whys and whats of infant baptism and being an educator at heart, I sieze the teachable moment. Let me tell you how I understand whys and whats:

1. Jesus told His followers to go into the world, make disciples and baptize;

2. Scripture tells us that baptism in the early church was for entire families, not just believers and it was tied to God's covenant promise to Abraham.

3. Ours is a covenant theology, a faith that has its roots in the sovereignty of God and God's faithful promises to His people.

4. Children of believers are a part of the covenant promise God made to Abraham: "I will be your God; you will be my people." Infant baptism is the outward sign and seal of this covenant promise.

5. Baptism is not about what the individual does or does not do. It is about God and what God does. Even in believer's baptism, it is God who has initiated the salvation. God is the one who saves, who calls. God acts. We respond because of the irresistable pull of the Holy Spirit.

6. The child's parents, extended family and church family promise to teach the child who God is and the essentials of the Christian faith so that the child can know and understand a saving knowledge of Jesus Christ and make his/her own profession of faith and discipleship.

Often when I look at our grandchildren, especially the ones I've been privileged to baptize, I ponder #6 above. How am I carrying out the promise I have made? Will they remember me as a child of God? And last week, before Christopher's baptism, I centered on God's promise. #4 above is life itself! I realized that I can summarize my life within God's promise. I have trusted God's promise of salvation, I rely on God's faithfulness, I bask in the blessings of God's grace and I am sustained day by day by God's mercy and compassion. I am a child of the promise. To teach our children what that means is life's greatest responsibility and opportunity.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

We're in Raleigh--too busy to post--too laid back to move. That's contradictory, but that's how it is! The busy-ness is in playing with Christopher and, of course, he takes priority. The being laid back is in not really having anything we absolutely have to do. The trip over was pretty easy and not too tiring. I did my usual "getting lost around Raleigh" bit and had to call and say, "I know where I am, but how do I get to you?" You'd think after living in Sacramento I'd be ready for the big city, but apparently I'm not. I'm a small town gal at heart!

But, there are some things that are scarce in small towns and I usually arrive here with a list. This time I had an item from Tommy--lobster base--not something I'd buy, but whatever he cooks with it, I'll eat. (It's on my shopping list for today.) One other thing listed for today is a box of jumbo pasta shells--or maybe several boxes. It's rather tedious to stuff small ones and I love shrimp stuffed shells and another dish I make regularlly when I can find jumbo shells. Raleigh, actually Cary, has a Trader Joe's, a California tradition to be sure. We made that trip yesterday and I stocked up on the trail mix Tom loves, Joe's O's, my favorite granola and other good stuff.

I saved the best to last--finding quilted containers for stemware at a fraction of the original cost. After forty plus years of marriage and storing all the German crystal Tom bought when he was stationed in Munich in their original boxes, I decided to bite the bullet and store it in something that would keep it clean and ready to use at a moment's notice. Until now I'd have to find the right box, unwrap the crystal, wash and dry it, use it, wash and dry it, rewrap and put it back in the box--not exactly conducive to using it much. At check out, watching the register I noticed the clerk rang up $23 for what I thought was one container. When I questioned her, calling her attention to the $14.95 price tag, she said, "No, this is a special price. You're getting six containers for $23." Folks, that's a bargain in any size town!! I can use the savings to help fill the gas tank for the trip home.

Indulge me with one more shopping story. Last week Tom and I went to Germantown (east Memphis community) for me to attend a meeting. For me, going to Germantown involves a trip to the Penzey Spice store and while there I casually asked if they knew where I could buy sausage casings. Tommy makes sausage and thus far, he's had to make it into patties for lack of the availability of casings. The saleslady called a neighborhood Italian deli, put me on the phone and we ended up at the deli for lunch. The owner was really nice, interested in why I wanted the casings and graciously offered to give me what I wanted. In return, I'm to take him some of Tommy's andouille the next time I go to Germantown. The funny part was the casings were put into a sandwich size plastic bag, salted and handed to me, free of charge, with my promise to return with Tommy's sausage. I had to stop at a service station, purchase a cooler and a bag of ice to keep them fresh for the drive back to Jackson. Free casings traveled home in a $9 cooler with ice. The man and his deli made my day! I can't wait to go back.

I heard on the news that an area close to Sacramento is experiencing wild fires and the temperature for today is to reach 100. Know that you are in my prayers! And always in my heart!!!

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

Realities fall into lots of categories; some are welcome; some are not; some bring untold joy; some bring tears and disappointment. Some realities are interesting and sort of comical. Take, for instance, the writing and reading of blogs. I took over this blog from my children who were doing a great job of keeping friends and family informed of some rather serious health problems we were having. It has been a way that I can stay in touch with lots of special people who care about us and I share thoughts that God lays on my heart. The reality that there are those who care is why I write, but the comical and disappointing reality is anyone with access to the internet can read what I write and some who could care less about us read our words for ulterior motives. It makes me feel like I felt at one point in my life when we caught a peeping Tom at our window.

The stomach bug has been a reality in Tommy and Liz's house lately and she is the latest victim. Fortunately, it may prove to be a 24 hr. bug for her, but today she felt really bad. She called us about 7:30 a.m. to see if we could keep Elisa. Silly question! Of course, we could and would. We knew we had missed her since school has been out, but were struck with the reality today of just how much! Someone sent an e-mail about mothers not long ago that included a statement that said something like: "Anyone who asks a mother if she can love the fifth child as much as she loved the first never had five children." It reminded me of Liz and how she has this unending love that she pours our on their children. As a grandmother I know that as the grandchildren keep coming, God keeps giving us additional capacity to love each one. That's a welcome reality.

An unwelcome and disappointing reality came today with the report of the blood work I had done yesterday. The CA125 is inching up again. It's only up a point since last month, but the three previous ones each showed fractional increases. Besides the reality being unwelcome and disappointing, there is something else. I have become a student of ovarian cancer and I know the signs, what they mean and the usual prognosis. Those things are too real! "But God," as the apostle Paul would say, is the reality in my life. I know He is a God of miracles, a God of mercy, grace and compassion. The realities of the blessings in our marriage and our lives as followers of Jesus are too numerous to name.

I have been reading The Last Lecture, the book written by Randy Pausch, Carnegie-Mellon professor given months to live with pancreatic cancer. It is not a Christian testimony, but a wonderful read for anyone living with chronic illness. He writes (talking to his wife when they are in Houston for a follow-up appointment): Whatever news we get about the scans, I'm not going to die when I hear it. I won't die the next day, or the day after that. So today, right now, well this is a wonderful day. And I want you to know how much I'm enjoying it.

Today is reality. It is what we have. We ask God for today's needs and God not only provides, but provides abundantly. This is the greatest reality of my life--it is welcome and it brings joy beyond measure.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret