What a busy week this has been! It's been full of all the things I did before I retired--a lunch meeting with area pastors on Monday, a lunch meeting Tuesday with an older adult task force at the Jackson church, mid-week supper and Bible study on Wednesday in Humboldt and a committee meeting in Germantown (East Memphis) today. I'm looking forward to a slower Friday and Saturday.

Tom had two falls last week that have literally knocked his feet out from under him. He fell on the porch last Tuesday afternoon, bruised and scraped his right arm and then Thursday night he fell across the arm of a chair and has a bruised rib. Consequently, I made the Memphis trip without him today. The falls have slowed him down a little, but he keeps looking forward with his amazing faith.

I still marvel at the way God brought us together so many years ago and how the love and respect continue to grow. If the love we had at the start had not grown, if honor were not a part of our relationship, if we did not respect each other and share the values we have, our days would be difficult to say the least. The dashing, svelte, young man in the uniform was replaced with a dignified lawyer in a three piece suit and regimental tie. Now, in the place of those two images is a tender, loving grandfather who has time and newfound energy to keep up with his grandchildren. His shoulders are slumped, unlike his military and lawyer postures; his speech is slower and sometimes slurred, also unlike the clipped military voice or the one used to try cases in court. I remember his years of leadership in the church and the presence he had in front of people. I also remember the years he spent sitting on the floor with pre-schoolers showing them and telling them about the love of God. The stately presence is only a memory; the tender, caring Tom is ever present. I cannot imagine life without him.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

Stairs and pride seem to go together. You know. Pride goes before a fall. Stairs have previously been my "downfall" (no pun intended).

There is danger of my breaking an arm, patting myself on the back this afternoon. Picture a stately Southern mansion with a large staircase in the center of the entrance hall that goes to a landing, turning both to the right and the left at the top. Such is the staircase in the former mansion that houses the church offices, some rooms used for classes and others for receptions. I haven't been to the second floor in at least two years. The stairs were impossible for me to navigate. Shorter flights have been taken one step at a time, leaving me winded at the top. Today when we arrived at the church for Bible study I had something that needed to go to one of the secretaries on the second floor and I thought, "I can do this." And, I did. I walked up those stairs like a normal person, not one stair at a time, and wasn't winded at the top. Seriously, friends, that's an answer to prayer for energy and renewed strength!!

My excitement and enthusiasm for teaching and preaching continue to grow. There are some Sundays that I can't wait until the next one because I'm so excited about the series we're in. Next month I being teaching Joshua in a women's circle in our Jackson church and I'm really looking forward to that. I've also started writing daily Advent devotionals again, the ones this year based on Advent and Christmas hymns. We covet your prayers as we live each day at a time, trusting God for provision.

Life is lived one step (or stair) at a time. I would have wasted a lot less time in my life, had I embraced that fact at an earlier age.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

There is an addition to the Saturday story. The doorbell rang during the afternoon and I went, expecting to see the mail carrier. Instead, standing on our front porch was my new friend , holding her husband's hand and smiling sweetly. Her whole countenance had changed from the morning. All the fear had been replaced with an adoring look at her husband. He introduced himself, apologized for any inconvenience from the morning and thanked me for being here. Together they handed me a pot of mums full of buds. She invited me to come visit her sometime. When I told Tom the difference in her expression, he said, "Well, she had her rock this afternoon." It was reassuring and very tender to see them together.

This afternoon two of our granddaughters came to play. I love to witness their imaginations at work. They asked for a new pack of sidewalk chalk and took it to design and draw a "playhouse" all over our drive and parking area in the back. At one point they came in and said something about fixing a snack for their imaginary family and suddenly I was taken back sixty years to playing house in the backyard with my cousin Julia. We had an imaginary kitchen next to the smokehouse and Aunt May would let us get cornmeal/grits from the barrel in the pantry to stir into our mudpies. We had such fun. I hadn't thought of that in years, but smiled with the memories of those special days. Later the girls came inside and I showed them a drawer where I had been collecting dress up things for them. I can just imagine the look on their great grandmothers' faces if they could see them playing in perfectly good kid gloves!

I'm freezing cinnamon ice cream and getting ready to make apple cobbler. This morning I made Julia Child's potato and leek soup. It's one of my favorite kinds of days. I hope yours has been restful and fun.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

About ten this morning I was standing at the sink washing dishes when I heard the back door knob turn. I looked, expecting to see a grandchild, but instead an unfamiliar woman was opening the door and entering the house. At first I thought she had come to the wrong house and she would turn around when she saw that she didn't know me. Then I saw the expression of fear on her face and she began to mumble something about a man in her house who was trying to hurt her--she had escaped. I have seen that confused, fearful look in another's face and I recognized the signs of dementia. She begged me to close and lock my back door and to get somewhere the man couldn't see us or he would hurt me too.

I began to try to calm her fears and reassure her, knowing I was being logical and in her mind logic doesn't make sense anymore. Fortunately, she had a purse with her and I asked if she had a wallet that might tell me how I could call someone and let them know she was safe and with me. She gave me her checkbook that had both her name and address and the name of her daughter. I had determined that she was connected to the house just up the street on the corner, but that apparently was a part of her confusion. She wasn't sure where she lives now and there was a merging of the man she feared and her husband. I found her daughter in the phone book, called and identified myself,and gave a brief, but guarded, description of what was happening. I didn't want to say anything that would cause the woman not to trust me. The daughter arrived in about fifteen minutes to get her mother and demonstrated much love, kindness and patience as she helped her down the front steps and into her car. Apparently, the lady's husband had gone to the store, leaving his wife by herself and hallucinations became reality, forcing her to flee.

When I realized I was dealing with dementia, it took me back. Our mom was diagnosed with dementia in the early nineties and lived with it until Christmas of 1996. We witnessed confusion and frustration, experienced hallucinations and struggled with trying to know the best way to help both her and Dad. I never saw the extreme fear in Mom that the lady this morning had, but she seemed to confuse her knowledge of the Tom she loved so dearly and the Tom who was her care partner. All of those memories kicked in and were helpful--though the remembering was painful.

Mom was the smartest, most in control, kindest person and it was tough to watch her slip away. She was one of my staunchest supporters when I entered seminary and would have Dad get me on the phone in the afternoons so she could talk to me about the Greek and Hebrew I was taking. She had had a long career teaching Latin and Humanities and perked up when we'd discuss the languages. In the end, dementia destoyed her mind and her earthly body. The memories of Mom and of a special uncle who also died with dementia were overwhelming, but so useful when confronted with others who have similar illnesses and those who give them care.

The morning experience is a living illustration of how God provides for our needs. Tomorrow I'm beginning a series on leadership and the first topic is "Equipping the Chosen." After looking at how God equipped Jeremiah, Amos and the little boy with the lunch that fed 5000+ for their tasks, I plan to talk about how, as God's children, we are never called without being totally equipped. I believe that one of the ways we are made ready for what is immediately before us is to commit every minute of every day to God when the day begins. We never know who will be in the grocery checkout line with us or who will appear at our back door. We do know, however, that when we trust God, He will equip us.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

It is September! Hard to believe!! Bring on SEC football!!! Basketball won't be far behind. Yea!

Tom and I think and talk a lot about friends. This week that has been especially true. One night over this past weekend we talked with a younger attorney we haven't seen since leaving Mississippi. It was good to catch up with his family and to tell him about ours. It was good to talk about old times! He even remembered the name of the first band Marty had--Fellini's Raincoat. And, as so often is the case when I talk to someone who is Tom's friend, he told me what a mentor and friend Tom had been to him when he first began to practice.

Sunday the choir sang an arrangement of "Here I am, Lord." The text comes from the sixth chapter of Isaiah where Isaiah responds to God's call with those words. I was listening attentively as they sang, "I will go, Lord, if you need me. I will hold your people in my heart." It was if I was hearing those words for the first time, but not really. "I will go, Lord, if you need me" was my response ten years ago when we answered God's call to go to California. I'm not sure I answered as willingly as Isaiah did, but we went because we knew it was the right move for us. Almost every day since we headed West we have had more and more assurance that it indeed was the right move. At my stage in life there may not be much more "going," but there will always be answering and the people to whom God has called me will forever be held close in my heart. In my mind's eye I saw clearly the friends at Fair Oaks and joyful tears filled my eyes.

On Monday we feasted on good food brought by our Mississippi friends and good fellowship during a too short visit. We shared pictures and stories of grandchildren, caught up on what's going on with our children and talked about the church where we met years ago (they are all still active there). In addition to the lunch they brought, one came with Tom's favorite fudge squares from a landmark restaurant in Jackson (MS) and another brought homemade jam and scones for breakfast. I sent them home with apple butter we had made over the weekend and fried pies we had discovered in a downtown coffee shop. They spent about eight and a half hours in the car going and coming and not quite four hours here. We laugh a lot when we're together and shed a lot of tears when we wave goodbye. It was a grand visit!

If you are reading this as a friend, always remember this: we love you and hold you close, remembering with great warmth and gratitude the moments we have shared.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

On the way home from Bible study a little bit ago, I suddenly thought what a "normal" day this seems. That may seem strange, but though we live enthusiastically and joyfully, illness does play a big part in our lives. Today is different.

I was awakened by a friend in Mississippi, calling to say that she and two others are coming for lunch on Monday. Of course, they are bringing it and couldn't be talked out of it. They'll spend much more time in the car driving to and from than they will here, but they are FRIENDS--friends who even bring lunch and I can't wait to see them.

Tuesday was Presbytery, last night was first Wednesday supper of the year at Humboldt, we've made headway with closing Dad's estate, illness has taken a backseat. It's good to be "normal."

I saved the best til last! Sound the trumpets---grandchild #8 is a boy!!!! Marty called after the ultrasound today to tell us the good news. He's due January 26, on Christopher's second birthday. All is well; we're excited; and we're planning to go!

Nothing in life should ever be taken for granted. To be able to go to Bible study where and when we choose is one of the freedoms we have in this country. For us it's a special blessing to sit under the teaching of our son and learn from him. Most of us have acquaintances whose company we enjoy, but true friends are like rare jewels. How I value the jewels in our treasure chest! Being a part of the work of the church, getting chores done, continuing to live independently are all "normal" things for which I am thankful.

Today, most of all, we thank God for our children, their spouses and the special blessing of grandchildren!!

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

It's way past my bedtime. Lately, lying down in the bed is not as comfortable as sitting in the recliner with the warm rice bag on my lower back or hip joints. I can think of three things causing the discomfort: being overweight, a smidge of arthritis and age. Only the first has a remedy and I don't seem to get serious about taking off the pounds. It's my own fault I'm sleepless. The good part is I can read or study without any interruptions unless Tom gets up to make his nightly walk to the kitchen for something sweet to eat. You'd think he'd be the overweight one in the family.

Today, or I guess it's yesterday now, I offiiciated at a graveside service for a man I didn't know. One of the Humboldt members called Monday and asked if I would come. The man who died was deaf, mentally challenged, had multiple health problems prior to his death and apparently had no family--at least none who visited him. There must have been thirty or forty people who came to the cemetary to pay their respects and to mourn his passing--some care recipients like he had been, some people who provided care for him. It was obvious that the man was loved by each person present.

I was simply the facilitator, the one who read the Scriptures, prayed the prayers and said a few words about him, but I knew my presence was appreciated. Services like that touch lives; they remind me what ministry is all about. It is taking or making time to share God's love with those in crisis or who grieve. It is taking the hand of a hospital patient to pray with them; it is listening when no one else can or will. I love the teaching and preaching aspects of ministry and I love pastoral care. I cannot imagine ministry where all three are not present.

Sunday I'm preaching on the lost things in Luke 15--the lost sheep, a lost coin and the lost son. As I sat here a little while ago going over my sermon and thinking about the day, I was reminded that I thought ministry had been "lost" for me when we moved here. There have been months of rest and recuperation from illness, chemo and even a broken ankle and foot and some days it seemed I would never do anything, but sit and receive from others. I don't do that well. My prayers to be a servant seemed to stop at the ceiling. Deep down I knew God was hearing and that He was answering, but I still grumbled. Today, in that cemetary, I knew that ministry was not lost. It's been there all along in the midst of the blessings of children, grandchildren, new friends, teaching and preaching opportunities and the time to enjoy each of them. God does indeed work in mysterious ways.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

Tom had a birthday this week and I have thoroughly enjoyed it right along with him. Our celebration is on hold until Sunday so we can have ice cream and cake with the grandchildren, but he has gotten numerous cards and phone calls. Of course, I also got to talk with friends who called. How we both love hearing from friends!

In addition to a birthday we have had doctors' visits in our week. We went to Corinth Monday for a blood draw and again today to see the doctor. Wednesday Tom had a check up with the GI doctor. All is well with him--except for the annoyances caused by his Parkinson's. Monday he sees the neurologist.

I had learned on Tuesday that my CA125 had risen a few more points, but is still under 35. We don't like rising numbers, but in a quiet time earlier in the summer, I suddenly was struck with the realization that the bloodcount is not the most powerful force in my life. After dreading hearing the number all these months, I put it in God's hands and He took away the worry and replaced it with peace. Today my doctor said he will only be upset if the number grows by leaps and bounds between blood draws. He still is satisfied with my state of health: I feel good; nothing hurts; I'm as normal as I will ever be (Tom grinned when I said I was normal); and Dr. Reed thinks the time off from treatment will help when I eventually do begin again. I am cleared for the next drug he will prescribe and his patients who have had this drug have responded well. Only God can be responsible for the renewed peace that fills me!!

Thank you for your prayers.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

In spite of living in unplanned retirement, I've found there are certain perks.

We have time to enjoy one another and to carry on whole conversations without rushing off to the office or to a meeting.

We have time to enjoy family--both the one around the corner and the one miles away. I can be on call to sit with grandchildren here or drop everything and head to North Carolina when the new grandchild arrives. When we vacation, we are not pushed to "check in," nor do we have to concern ourselves with "catch up" when we return.

I have time to cook, pretty much when and how much I choose. Our grandchildren think I exist to make dessert, so I try not to disappoint them. This summer I've found quick ways to make pie crust and dough for cobbler in the food processor--a handy find to use with all the peaches and blueberries we've consumed. We've also enjoyed cinnamon bread, mixed and kneaded in a matter of minutes in the food processor. Yesterday I cut back the basil on the front porch so I could make pesto to put in the freezer; cooked country fried steak, one of Tom's favorites, for dinner; and put together a casserole to share with family for Sunday dinner. Later today I'll make another favorite--frozen lime pie. It's fun to have time, not to have to make time to cook.

I also have time to read and read and read! I used to say: too many books; so little time. Now, I can read all day every day if I choose--well, not every day, but most days. At any rate, I do a lot of reading--everything from novels to cookbooks to non-fiction to Christian writings, including commentaries and books on the spiritual disciplines. Recently I have finished two books that I highly recommend: Eugene Peterson's A Long Obedience in the Same Direction and
The Path of Celtic Prayer by Calvin Miller.

The first is based on the Psalms of Ascent (120-134) and is sub-titled, "Discipleship in an Instant Society." For me it was a reminder of not only God's presence in my life, but His active presence. They were words I needed. After all these months of cancer, treatment, remission over and over my spiritual life can resemble a stagnant pool of water. Stagnant pools of water breed mosquitoes if allowed to stand; a stagnant spiritual life breeds questions and complacency.

The Miller book presents a fresh, in depth approach to prayer following the ways of the Celts. It probably does not have as broad an appeal as Peterson's book, but is worth a look to see for yourself. I loved it.

The perks of retirement: time for family, time for the kitchen, time to read.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

This will be short--just wanted to touch base since it's been a while since I've written. Tom and I left on July 24 and returned yesterday. We spent a wonderful, refreshing week in the Black Mountains in Western North Carolina with our daughter, her husband and our grandson--plus their two dogs. We visited the Biltmore House in Ashville and went one afternoon to the Montreat Conference Center bookstore and international shop. There is a saying among Southern Presbyterians that visiting Montreat at least once is a prerequisite to going to heaven. I know that's bad theology, but I also know that I feel a little closer to heaven when I'm on the Montreat grounds. We have special memories of conferences and being with friends and Marty and Kevin were married there. It is indeed a special place!

The best part was being with family, getting to know Christopher. He is an active, curious, energetic eighteen month old. Did I mention cute? He loves trains, books and music, not necessarily in that order and he loves to dance. I am amazed at how he can match tones and rhythmic patterns. It was a real treat to be with them!

Now we are home, trying to get reorganized with household chores, yardwork, committee meetings and sermon preparations, to say nothing of doctor appointments that begin again next week. School starts for students on Wednesday; teachers reported today, though Liz has already spent several days getting her classroom ready. What happened to summer?

Until later - - -
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

Here it is the middle of July and we ate supper on the back porch! That's pretty unbelievable for this part of the country. I just about had our supper ready, the table was set and Tom stuck his head out the back door to check on something or other. He turned to me and said, "This would be a perfect night to eat outside if we had the right kind of lawn furniture." My reply was, "No problem. We can put a cloth on the card table and sit on the porch." I asked if he wanted to leave the table so we might have breakfast there in the morning. He thinks it might be too cool. Unbelievable!

I am picking up Sarah and Jake in the morning for a blueberry picking outing. We had planned to go Thursday, but thunderstorms kept us indoors. Now I'm glad because it will be more pleasant picking in the cooler temperatures. I hope we get enough to stock two freezers for the winter.

This morning I was awakened to the news that there was water all over the kitchen floor. I got up to see and we could not find the source of it. I checked all the usual things that might produce water--nothing. After lots of mopping and some discussion about what to tell the plumber, I called him. He came and he couldn't find a leak anywhere. He suggested we call an appliance repair person to check the fridge. Wouldn't you know it? He can't come until Monday. In the meantime, we continue to check the floor and hope for the best. The floor needed to be mopped anyway.

Sunday I'm preaching at the church here in Jackson. It promises to be an interesting morning. After the worship service there will be a brief interlude and then one of the young women in the church is getting married. The pastor is flying home early from his vacation to perform the ceremony--but I still get to preach. Then I'll have two Sundays off before going back to Humboldt.

I learned yesterday that a friend I've had since my college days had surgery for a malignant brain tumor Monday. Her only family is a cousin who has challenges of her own in her immediate family. But my friend has her church family. The mutual friend who called said, you know how close they can be sometimes. Boy, do I know! Please pray for my friend with the tumor. Her name is JuJu.

We still are amazed at the unbelievable blessings in our life and even more amazed at the awesome God who abundantly provides for us.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

Today Tom and I made our trek to Corinth to see the oncologist. I wrote on Tuesday that as I heard the CA125 number I realized that I was trusting, depending on that number. I rejoice when it goes down; I shudder a bit when it goes the other way. Letting go of the number and depending completely on God has given me peaceful days this week instead of days of dread.

A second thing happened while we sat in the waiting room. I began reading A Long Obedience in the Same Direction a couple of months ago, but had put it down and hadn't continued until today. Written by one of my favorites, Eugene Peterson, it is based on the Psalms of Ascent. I returned to the chapter on Psalm 121, another of my favorites, and found words of real encouragement and affirmation. Peterson says that the psalm is one of promise, but not the promise of the absence of difficultites in the Christian's life. He emphasizes that God guards are lives and that we trust in the Creator, not the created. The focus is on the "guardian," not the difficulty. I need to be reminded sometimes.

The visit with the doctor went well and, yes, he said what we wanted to hear: "No treatment at this time." He says my number is fine and I look like I feel great--which I do. We talked a bit about treatment possibilities for the future, but not now. Our family has said lots of "thank yous" to God who continues to hold us in the palm of His hand.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

Lessons and other things learned in the last few days are on my mind this evening. Our Fourth of July celebration was just as full of friends, family and food as I thought it would be. I learned that even the children like variations on potato salad. I found a recipe for Pesto Potato Salad, thinking that it might flop, but we finished it off with folks asking for more--including two of the grandchildren. It was fun having the house full while the table groaned under the weight of all the food.

I had been a little concerned about how the traditional Patriotic Sunday celebration would come together with my worship convictions. It was truly a wonderful service and I enjoyed every minute of writing and preaching the sermon. As I stood at the front waiting on everyone to be served communion I looked out over the congregation and was overcome with a true sense of family. I learned a lot about their tradition and how it has shaped them.

Today we learned that my CA125 is going the wrong way again--up, "but not too high," as the nurse reminded me. As I pondered the news, I learned something about myself. I have put too much trust in those numbers, forgetting that God is in control, not the blood test. At times I feel like a yo -yo: one month the count is good, one month it isn't and it's easy to become discouraged or just downright mad at the circumstances. When I see the doctor this Friday I'm going to ask about the latest treatment to see if I fit the protocol.

Tom and I both had eye check-ups this afternoon and learned that I have some minor changes--not enough to go through changing lens. Tom, on the other hand, could possibly be helped by changing his lens, so he let me choose the frames. He is moving from practical to cool!

Last week while Jake was at Boy Scout camp I learned things about Tommy's scout camp experiences that I hadn't heard before now. Jake had a wonderful time, earned merit badges in first aid, swimming and canoeing. Scouting has been important to the men in our family and we were so glad to learn of Jake's excitement and achievments.

I have learned many lessons dealing with the illnesses in our family and just when I think I've risen to the top of the class, I get my "come-upance" and realize I will never learn everything I need to know about God's loving care. Thankfully, He doesn't tire of teaching us.

You don't need to be told that the Fourth of July is Saturday. Flags will be waving; people will don their red, white and blue; there will be a parade, complete with bagpipes, at Montreat; there will be neighborhood parades; we'll enjoy the TV broadcast of the concert on the Capitol Mall once again; families will gather for reunions; the grills will be lit and piled high with ribs or hamburgers and hotdogs, chicken or steak; ice cream churns will be at work. Hopefully, we will all remember to thank God for the freedom we enjoy.

It's a secular holiday, a day that commemorates our independence, a day when we celebrate our freedom as a nation. No one is more thankful, nor patriotic than I am. My mother's only brother spent 32 years in the army, beginning as an enlisted man in the cavalry and retiring as a full colonel. On his bookcase sat four purple hearts. Tom was an artillery officer, serving a year in the Vietnam conflict. I do not have to be reminded of the price our military men and women have paid for our freedom. I know too well. It's a part of my family.

I am also mindful of the freedom I, as a believer, have in Jesus Christ. That freedom also came with a price, but one I did not have to pay. Were I too praise God constantly for the rest of my days, it would not be enough to express my gratitude for such freedom.

In many churches on Sunday, flags will be waving and patriotic songs will be sung. No doubt hearts will be stirred with the strains of "God Bless America." How our country was founded is important history, but even more important is how our Christian beliefs will affect our future. The church where I am currently preaching dubs the Sunday closest to the Fourth as Patriotic Sunday. I have been presented with, "This is what we do" and have struggled as I've tried to pair that with my conviction of what worship truly is. Please pray that God alone will be glorified.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

Ten Things I Love About Summer

1. I love the way the sun shines and the special shadows it creates.

2. I love homemade ice cream. Of course I can make it any time of year, but we make it so much more when the days are hot.

3. I love sitting on the porch, watching the children play while we cook on the grill.

4. I love fresh fruit: peaches, cantaloupe, honey dew melon, Mississippi watermelon.

5. I love the longer days.

6. I love the Farmers' Market and the produce it has to offer: butterbeans, pink eye purple hull peas, corn, cucumbers, TOMATOES are my favorites.

7. I love a salad we make with fresh tomatoes, cucumbers and sliced onion (recipe follows).

8. I love the College World Series--game three in the championship series is tonight. Geaux LSU.

9. I love shelling peas while watching baseball on summer Saturday afternoons.

10. I love to have herbs on the porch and flowers in the yard.

Tomato-Cucumber Marinade
Layer in shallow glass dish: 2 medium tomatoes (peeled, sliced)
1 medium cucumber (peeled, thinly sliced)
1/2 medium onion*, thinly sliced & separated in rings
Combine: 1/2 cup salad oil
1 tsp. salt
1 tsp. basil
1 tsp. tarragon
1/8 tsp. pepper

Beat well with whisk or mix in blender. Pour over layered vegetables; chill, covered, 5 to 6 hours. Drain, reserving marinade. Pass if desired.
* I use either red onion or the sweet Vidalia onions available only in the summer.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

Yesterday was the day of a called Committee on Ministry in Memphis. The one piece of business on the agenda was to interview a candidate being called to be an associate at one of the larger churches. She is a recent graduate of Princeton Seminary, but probably in her early fifties, having had a career in counseling, teaching and spiritual direction. COM always asks questions in Bible, theology, worship and sacraments, polity and pastoral care. Her answers to each of them were the best I've heard since I've been part of the committee. What a pleasure to welcome someone into the presbytery with her convictions, her experience and her commitment to serve! I especially was pleased to her answer to the question I asked on pastoral care with older adults in the church.

As usual, a few more pieces of business had found their way onto the agenda, but they were quickly handled--all except one. A minister member of the committee pastors a church whose Session has recently voted to leave the denomination. He had asked to say a few words, both about the decision and in response to one member's e-mail stating her objection to his serving on the committee until his transfer takes place. After his initial statement, we had opportunity to respond or ask questions. I have great respect for this pastor and said so. He probably has the most theological mind of any committee member and has the abiblity to get to the heart of any matter. I listened with great sadness as he told how/why the Session has come to their decision, as he almost tearfully spoke of his position and as he told us of the young woman associate, recently ordained who has decided not to transfer her membership to another denomination. I left the meeting with a heavy heart.

Some are willing to pay the price to act on their convictions. Others remain silent and hope the disagreements will just go away. Still others keep praying, fighting from within for the purity of the church. We are among the latter, but still sad.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

In case you didn't hear, the news on my bloodwork last week was good. I had gone to Corinth on Monday to have blood drawn and expected to return on Friday to see the doctor. Wednesday one of the assistants called to say I didn't have to come in unless I was having any problems. My CA125 has gone down another three points--still not within the range my Sacramento doctor wanted it to be, but well under the number that causes alarm. I feel extremely blessed.

For the past couple of hours we have been glued to the TV--except for the time we took cover in the bathroom. Sirens alerted us to the fact of a tornado warning and the city has had some severe weather, but no tornadoes. A strong lightening strike knocked out the computer at the emergency center downtown, so that put an end to being alerted by sirens. I understand now that we are expecting a severe thunderstorm warning to be in effect a little later and that it will possibly bring damaging hail. Have I told you before how much I hate bad weather?

I was supposed to drive to Humboldt for a monthly Session meeting, but called the Clerk and advised him to postpone it til next Monday. It is such a joy to be in the pulpit on a regular basis and to be personally and pastorally involved with a congregation. Every day I am thankful for everything I learned at Fair Oaks and every day I feel this empty spot in my heart because we are not there. Yet, we are content because we know God brought us here.

Our oldest grandson was thirteen yesterday. Bless his heart. He let us hug and love on him and he endured endless stories of the day he was born. He and his dad, along with 16 other young folks and 3 other chaperones, left this morning for a Middle School church conference in Cleveland, TN. After church yesterday Sarah left for a week of church camp at the Presbytery campsite. We are aware that the weather system affecting us is also affecting the area of the state where she is. Our granddaugter in North Carolina left today for Applacian State in the northwest part of the state to attend an academic type camp that she was invited to attend. It's hard to realize how independent they are becoming, all the more reason to be constant in prayer for them.

The best news we have is that Marty is expecting their second child on Christopher's first birthday. She is doing well, just has morning sickness at all hours of the day. Please pray for a successful pregnancy and delivery next January.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

This has been a season of planting for us. After having the raised bed in the backyard cleaned of several years of neglect, we have had a good time planning a colorful layout and getting the flowers in the ground. We walk out almost daily to check their progress, willing them to bloom. We also faithfully water and feed on a regular schedule.

Coming from the neighborhood post office yesterday afternoon we noticed a yard full of day lilies for sale and that began conversation on how they'd fit into our yard. When we got home I went on line to check growing requirements and this morning Tom was ready to start preparing a bed--until a heavy downpour put a stop to that plan. For the first time in all our years together we have both actually enjoyed working together in the yard and one of the rewards of retirement is having the time to sit on the back porch and enjoy the fruits of our labor.

It has also been a season of planting in ministry. The continuing process of creating a colorful yard that will be enjoyed by us and visited by birds and butterflies is not unlike the process we take in ministry. A goal is established--make disciples; plants or seeds are selected--truths from God's word; seeds are sown, plants are planted by different methods--preaching, teaching, pastoral care; in both instances we nurture with food and water and we pray for results. God is the one who brings forth fruit; we reap the rewards. We have both been rewarded with a warm reception by the Humboldt congregation and I have gotten words of encouragement and the promise of prayerful support. "For everything there is a season."

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

My "new" relationship with 1st Presbyterian, Humboldt gets in full swing this coming Sunday. For the past two Sundays I have been back in town teaching Sunday School and finishing up the Gospel of Mark. And on the other days I have been asking God for wisdom and discernment and planning a series of sermons.

The church is very small (120 members), warm, friendly and they have welcomed us with enthusiasm. I'm sure there are family connections, but I have yet to learn who is related to whom. The Book of Order defines various formal relationships pastors have with churches, but my relationship with Humboldt doesn't fall within any of the definitions and it could change to include more responsibility later. Right now I'll be in the pulpit on Sundays, moderate the Session once a month, be available to provide pastoral care and try to help them move forward as they seek a full time pastor. It's a new experience for me, one that both is exciting and humbling.

About five years ago the church moved from an historical old building in the downtown area to a brand new place on the edge of town. The new facility is really beautiful and includes space for a weekday pre-school. There are two glaring problems: the debt incurred is large for a congregation of its size and one elder said to me that the congregation seemed to have lost their focus in the move. It didn't help that right before the move the pastor who had been there about thirty years retired and the new pastor wasn't anything like the old one. I'm guessing that not enough time lapsed between pastors for grieving and acceptance of loss of one and preparation for the other. Whatever has contributed to their situation is in the past and now it's time to look ahead. I covet your prayers in this ministry opportunity God has given me.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

For me, barbeque is something you eat. I learned in California, though, that barbeque is something you do. I might say, "We're having cooking out and having barbeque on Memorial Day." A Californian would say, "Come over to my house and we'll barbeque." Different strokes for different folks!

For me, barbeque is pork, but I reluctantly recognize in places like Texas and Kansas that barbeque could be beef--sacrilege.

For me, barbeque is best in West Tennessee around the Memphis area, but admit I've had some tasty ribs at Dreamland in Tuscaloosa and at Archibald's in the Tuscaloosa area. Some sauce is vinegar based as in North Carolina, sweeter in other parts of the country. Some meat is shredded, some is chopped; some is jucier, some is drier. Some ribs are wet; some are cooked dry. We all have our ideas about what is best.

Memphis has the best places to eat barbeque--other than home. There are the famous establishments: The Rondeaveau (spelling is questionable) in an alley off Union Avenue, the original Corkey's on Poplar and a place we recently tried (and loved), Interstate Barbeque on 3rd St. just off I-55; and there are the Mom and Pop neighborhood places where the natives take you. My first barbeque memories are from Aunt May and Uncle Barnard in Southeast Georgia. When they made barbeque, Uncle Barnard would dig a pit for the fire in the back yard, make a rack of small trees and fence wire and put the pig on the rack to cook. We're not talking about a small hole; we're talking about something about 10 ft. x 3 ft. It was a sight to see, an aroma to savor and a taste to remember! Now I rely on son Tommy to make barbeque for me.

There aren't too many foods that Tom likes better than barbequed ribs. Several years back when we were driving back and forth and all around the Southeast, we had a book, Southern Foods, that always traveled with us. In it are chapters on Blue Plate Specials, places where the best homemade biscuits are served, barbeque places and other chapters on just good old Southern cooking. We've eaten in as many places mentioned in the book as we possibly could, including the barbeque "joints." One we recognized by all the dogs out back waiting to be thrown a bone and the long line of people staning out front waiting to get in and another we found by literally following our noses. Oh, the barbeque memories we've made!

If your mouth is watering and you love barbeque like we do, rush right out and buy the latest copy of "Food and Wine" magazine. Our daughter Marty told us about a delicious hamburger recipe she had made from it, I told Tommy and when he was finding the burger recipe, he found a rib recipe that looked good to him. Honestly, I had my doubts. It has glaze made with apple cider vinegar, melted apple jelly and some other things that made me thing it would be too sweet for my taste. Boy, was I wrong! He fixed ribs Friday night to celebrate Sarah Beth's birthday and I have to say, they are the best I've ever had! In fact, they were so good, I have already bought more ribs for the freezer so we'll be ready when he's ready to cook them again.

Enjoy your holiday tomorrow and eat more barbeque!

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

For many of us, we define our lives with "whens:" when I grow up; when I go to college; when I get married; when I have children; when they grow up; when they leave the nest; when I retire and on and on we go. One morning we awake with the startling realization that we have about come to the end of our whens. We think they are complete. We have reluctantly reached retirement, with the words ringing in our ears, "Retirement only comes in heaven." Tom and I are convicted that God can and does use us at any age, in any place, if we are submissive to His wisdom and leading. In the two and a half years we have been here, we have continued to ask God to show us how to live, what to do and to give us opportunities for ministry, but I have not always understood God's response. I needed to step back and take a new look at things.

Answers have come in both expected and unexpected ways. The daily care of one another often has been taken for granted, but in these days of less than perfect health, little ways we care and show love have been highlighted as a special kind of ministry--the fulfillment of those vows repeated forty plus years ago.

Sunday the text for my sermon was the passage in Mark where the disciples rebuke the people for bringing little children to Jesus. Jeus replied with indignation saying not only to let them come, but also not to stand in the way of their coming. By the time he took, his touch and his blessing of them Jesus indicated his attitude toward children. Preparation for the sermon got my attention. We have more time in retirement to spend with the little ones in our family. Mark uses the word "embrace" to describe Jesus' touch, a word that in our day might be translated "hug." Our touch, our hugs often display our deep feelings for our grandchildren when words are inadequate or too abstract for their young minds. Jesus blessed the children he took the time to embrace so we need to take time to pray for the children in our lives. Praying for them is not only a blessing for them, but also for us. This is ministry that adds much joy to our days!

There have been opportunities to teach, to share ideas about older adult ministry, to preach and to be active in the work of the Presbytery. Since mid-January I have either taught or preached every Sunday, substituting for a regular teacher and filling a now empty pulpit in Humboldt, a nearby town where I have preached several times. The Committee on Ministry asked me to moderate their Session and the Session has asked me to supply their pulpit for an indefinite period of time.

The first week in June I'm going to meet with the staff and the elder in our church here to discuss getting small group ministry off the ground and sometime soon will do an orientation for the visitation team that is a part of the older adult ministry.

God is answering our prayers for ministry opportunities, all in His time. We just have to let God have our whens. They don't end with retirement like we sometimes think. Please pray for our new opportunities.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

Mother's Day came and went; I preached, as planned in Humboldt, Tom and I enjoyed a quiet afternoon and then went to Tommy's for a specially prepared dinner. My, was it good! He broiled red snapper in a chardonnay sauce, topped it with crab meat and served it over a bed of spinach. The portions were so big, we brought enough home to have for Monday night supper. Even though I love it, I don't cook much seafood, so I'm happy to have someone else cook it for me. Best of all was being with all of them and hearing from our North Carolina family by phone.

Yesterday was a meeting of Presbytery, held in Memphis, of course. It seems most meetings end up being in Memphis. During the afternoon part of the meeting I noticed a man that looked a little familiar. It helped that he was sitting with a man who had been identified as the pastor of the West Memphis church. When the meeting was over I stretched to see his name tag and sure enough, I knew him. He and I were in youth group together. He had a head full of white hair and I thought how much older he looked. He told me he wouldn't have recognized me if I had not spoken to him first. Do I not realize that I have aged as well? How do I explain all this white hair on my head?

We often do not see ourselves as others see us. I first began to realize that others saw aging changes in me when grown people said, "Yes or no maam" to me. That was years ago. I din't think I looked old enough to merit being called a "Maam." Most people around here call me "Miss Margaret" and I've wondered if that's an age thing. Finally, I realized that it's cultural. Still, it's hard to look in the mirror and see wrinkles, a double chin, snow white hair and lots of extra weight. Fortunately, we can rely on the words Samuel told Jesse when he went to anoint a king to succeed Saul: Man looks on the outside; God looks on the heart.

Tom has been pushing himself lately to exercise and walk a little bit each day. We know he needs to maintain some muscle strength or he is more prone to fall. Both of us got a little exercise today working in the yard. When I got up he suggested that we go to IHOP so I could feast on one of their strawberry specials and then to a nursery he had seen advertised on TV. I had bulletin information to finish for Sunday first, but we did make it to IHOP for lunch and to buy some plants afterward. Our ground has really been too wet to set anything out and more rain is predicted for tomorrow, but we came home and got at least half of what we bought in the ground. I was anxious to get the lantana out so it would grow, bloom and attract the butterflies and hummingbirds. Tonight we both have tired muscles.

It's been a good week with family, seeing an old friend, digging in the dirt. God continues to bless us and we are glad.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

Mother's Day is Sunday and I'm preaching in Humboldt. That's where my focus is though I did remember three special moms I wanted to let know just exactly how special they are: Aunt May, who has been a mother to me in many ways; Marty, our daughter and Liz, our daughter-in-law. Marty and Liz together have given us seven beautiful grandchildren and their gifts to us are immeasurable.

Aunt May now lives in a retirment home--not her choice, but she, as she always has, accepts the arrangement and goes on with life. I have no doubt that she brings encouragement and sunshine into the lives of others who live there. She probably doesn't even realize the effect she has on other people. I do. She was a stabilizing influence on me when I was a child and by taking me into her family she gave me a "sister" who I dearly love. During the ups and downs of our health issues her voice remains in my head and gives me counsel. The values I learned in her home remain with me as well. The love she exhibited when my uncle was ill, the care she gave him are an inspiration to me as I live with Tom in his illness.

As I prepare to preach Sunday I am mindful that Mother's Day, though significant, is not a religious holiday, but a Hallmark one. My conviction is that a worship service honors God and that God's Word should be preached. For me, a way to say something about mothers and also be faithful to my convictions is to take a look at Hannah, how she prayed before Samuel was born, how she prayed when he was born and how she continued to pray for him as a faithful Jewish mother. For some background material I turned to one of my favorite Old Testament commentators, a seminary professor who made the Scripture come alive.

In Dr. Davis's commentary on I Samuel, he writes some about barreness, mentioning the women in the Covenant story (Sarah, Rebekah, Rachel, the mother of Samson and of course, Elizabeth in the New Testament) who were at one point barren, but then went on to produce men who were great leaders in Biblical history. This statement really struck me: God's tendency is to make our total inability his starting point.

Whether we are praying for a child to be conceived, a relationship to be restored, a job to be found or an illness to be cured, God can work when we can do nothing. It's easy to shove that truth back into the dark corners of our brain while we go through the motions of everyday living. Little did I know when I began to reread Hannah's story (one of my favorites) and prepare for Sunday that God would send me my own special message! I have no ability to cure the illnesses that we have, but God is at work in both of us. We don't know the end of our story, but we have every confidence in the One who is writing it.

I hope you have a wonderful Mother's Day with those you love.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

The last post began with the words: Today is my kind of day. I can say the same about today, but wouldn't mean the same thing. Today's weather is rainy and stormy. No, my pleasure in today has to do with our visit to the oncologist in Corinth. It had been five weeks since my last visit and I wasn't sure what to expect.

Scans had indicated that the disease was still present, but had not progressed and that I had irritation in my lungs caused by the chemo. Dr. Reed put me on medication for the lung problem and said he would let my body rest and recheck my blood work in four or five weeks. Well, the meds have helped my lungs and I feel much better. Still, we never know what's inside and knew that my CA125 had actually risen, rather than fallen following the last treatment. Today we learned that it has gone down and heard those "hoped for" words: We're going to continue to let your body rest and hold off treatment. Tom and I could only say a thank you to God and smile a lot. We didn't hear the remission words we would have liked, but we were happy with what we heard.

Many, many thanks for your prayers and support. God just keeps on providing for our everyday needs and certainly for all of those which are not so "everyday."

As I write I'm thinking of the 200 or so women who are assembling at this very moment for a weekend retreat at Woodleaf Conference Grounds in Northern California. The last time I was there was 2006 when I had been asked to speak on "Through the Wilderness." Even though I knew when I went for the weekend that I had an elevated CA125, I had no way of knowing that I would hear news within the next couple of weeks that would radically change our lives forever. Preparing for that retreat was one of God's ways to prepare me for what happened next on our journey. I knew then and I know now that God is faithful and never leaves me nor does He forsake me. As long as I draw breath I will continue to proclaim that faithfulness and tell of God's provision.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

Today is my kind of day. The sun is shining, there is a slight breeze, baseball is on TV and I have energy to attack projects that have long been buried.

Our lawn service men came Thursday for their regular cutting service and to do all the clean up things that needed to be done in the areas all around our house. They worked five hours and then had to take all the cuttings and debris to the dumping site when they left here. The men pruned and trimmed, dug up and propped up and the results are amazing. They cleaned out the raised bed at the back of the yard and I have been watching the sun all day so as to determine how much actual sunlight it gets. Most of the privet is gone! The only thing they didn't accomplish was pruning a large crepe myrtly at one corner of the house. It had put on too much new growth so we'll have to wait until Fall for that.

Now the dilemna is what I shall plant where. I'm debating about tomatoes, wondering if I'd be better off to rely on the "Tomato Lady" at the Farmers' Market. For sure we'll have a few herbs--parsley, basil, thyme, maybe dill. Lantana is a must. It's hardy, blooms well and attracts butterflies. It is a perenneal in Mississippi, but is more of an annual here. I'll probably put annuals in the front where some shrubs had to be removed and replace the shrubs in the Fall. How refreshing to be able to turn one's thoughts to the yard and away from health issues!!

Earlier today I took the iron patio furniture off the back porch, hosed it down and gave it a good brushing. After it dried, I sprayed it with black, rust resitant paint. That's a project that's been buried for a "loooong" time and it's good to have it done. The cushions I bought last summer should look nice on freshly painted chairs.

There is pastry dough chilling so I can make a strawberry pie. I just hope the berries taste as good as they look. Somehow it never seems like Saturday if I don't bake something or get ready for Sunday dinner, however the strawberry pie won't last past tonight's supper.

As I sit by the window watching the birds at the feeder in the freshly manicured yard, I can't help but be thankful that I have energy to even think about yardwork and to enjoy our Saturday. It's so much better to think of what I can do than what I cannot. I hope you have a special weekend and that you will have an opportunity tomorrow to worship our Creator.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

My daughter can be described as a serious blogger. She knows the lingo, has a large following, has attended a couple of blogger conferences/conventions and at times gets nice perks. For instance, recently the publicity folks at a family resort contacted her to offer an overnight stay with all expenses paid in return for her writing about them on her blog. That's a pretty nice perk! She has also made some good friends on the internet--some she has met in person; some not, but they are friends who have supported her in both the bad times and the good. That may be the best perk of all.

A blog Marty posted one day this week made me think about what I write and how often I post. Originally, this site was started so friends and family could keep up with us when we were in the midst of medical misery. Our children birthed it and faithfully kept it going until we moved and got semi-settled in Tennessee when the task fell to me. Now I write mainly as a means to keep up with those same friends and family who started reading in the beginning. For me blogging is a means of communicating, though I'm aware that for many others it is so much more.

Marty and a blogger friend and their little boys had a play date one day last week and the question was asked if quantity or quality was most important when blogging. Had I been present for the discussion, I might have said that a more important question for me is: why do I blog? Good grammar, proper sentence structure, correct spelling have always been high on my list of priorities, so in that sense, quality is important. If quality means content, I'm not so sure my writing is up to par. I write about the things that matter to me: children, grandchildren, God's creation, what God is doing in our lives. Just because these things matter to me doesn't mean you care to read about them. As I've gotten older, I've begun to write like I talk and that doesn't always translate into proper sentence structure; plus, there is no spell check available--quality is questionable. As for quantity, I try to post at least once a week--depends on what there is to say.

Possibly I need to be more diligent in posting. Certainly there is room for improvement in the content. Once again, one of my children has made me think.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

The dogwoods in our neighborhood this year are absolutely incredible. I probably think that every Spring, but somehow, this year seems different. Almost every yard has at least one of varying sizes and shapes, mostly white, but there are few pink ones. Driving down some streets you see a mass of white blooms, while in other places the white is sprinkled in with evergreens. No matter the landscape, they are truly beautiful. I am reminded of visiting the Kukenhof (sp?) Gardens outside of Amsterdam with Marty several years ago. We would look at a bed of flowers and think there couldn't possibly be another as beautiful. Then, we'd round a curve in the sidewalk and change our minds about what was most beautiful. Thus, the dogwoods in the neighborhood. Each one seems to be more beautiful than the one before it.

As I said to someone, we are being teased with Spring. We'll have a few warm days and then wake up to frost. The storms that continue rolling through the area are typical for this time of year and for this part of the country, though they are worse closer to the Gulf Coast. That's my opinion anyway. Fortunately, the fickle weather hasn't hurt the aforementioned dogwoods or the azaleas. Spring always brings out suppressed planting urges which are not deterred by my two brown thumbs. The yard men came to start pruning and cleaning up from winter last week and will hopefully finish this week. One of their biggest jobs will be to uproot, dig out, destroy all the privet hedge that has sprung up all over the back. The teacher in me tells me there is a spiritual parallel.

A raised bed planted with perennials and flowering shrubs was put in by a former owner. I'm sure it was pretty at one time, but privet threatens to overtake it. I have tried cutting it back and pulling up the sprigs that don't have established root systems, but it grows right back. As much as I try, I can't get to the roots. I should be as diligent attacking bad habits and "little" sins that threaten to overtake me. Those habits and sins have to be uprooted, not just cut back or they will continue to flourish and grow like the privet.

God's creation is full of lessons for the Christian. Take what we plant, whether it be bulbs, vegetables or grass. All need to be fed and watered, given the proper nourishment and light requirements. So do we need to be fed and nourished by the Word and encouraged by other Christians.

Enjoy God's beauty in your neighborhood and in your own backyard.

Blessings,

Pastor Margaret

After all these years and hearing an explanation, I still arrive at the Friday before Easter and ask, "Why do we call it 'Good' Friday'?" Tom and I attended the noonday service at the church today and, again, were reminded of the horror of what happened to Jesus on that day over two thousand years ago. I sat, listening to the words from John's gospel, thinking not of those who tried, condemned and crucified Jesus, but of how much a part of those events I am. It was for me Christ died. He died so that my sins would be forgiven. I am just as guilty of His death as those who hammered in the nails. It was a sad day in history----but you and I know the rest of the story.

Tony Compolo tells a wonderful story about being in a "preach off" with and elderly, black minister. Compolo preached and was convinced that he had done his best and that no one could beat him. The other minister got to his feet and began in a soft, deliberate tone, "It's Friday, but Sunday's coming." That was his sermon and he kept saying those words over and over until he had the congregation on their feet, proclaiming along with him, "It's Friday, but Sunday's coming." They brought the house down, as the saying goes. As we drove away from our church today my somber mood was turned upside down when I thought of those words, "It's Friday, but Sunday's coming." Hallelujah and amen.

Have a glorious Easter.
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

Finally, we are getting back to normal or whatever our "normal" is these days. Treating the lung symptoms has helped so much! My breathing is better, the energy level has gone up and over all I'm feeling better. What a relief!! Tom is to have an upper GI scope the early part of next week. He had his annual check up with the gastroenterologist this past week and we're still looking for answers and help for his weight loss. I think we all suspect that Parkinson's is the cause, but we need to be sure.

Yesterday Tom spent about four hours watching the webcase of a Parkinson's symposium in Houston. I am amazed with the technology! Other than sitting for all that time with a laptop perched on you, it's an easy way too tune into the latest information. The symposium yesterday was about the effects of exercise and creativity on Parkinson's and it was excellent.

Jacob is growing up too fast. I saw him last Sunday after Sunday School after his having been out of town for five or six days. He was standing in the fellowship hall visiting with a young lady, but when he saw me, he stopped, gave me a quick hug and said hello. I didn't see him again until Friday night when we went to their house to eat supper. His first words when I walked in: "Mawmaw, you got a hair cut." Actually, I had gotten this extreme hair cut while he was out of town. He had seen me on Sunday--without really seeing me. The young lady must have held his total attention, a sure sign that adolescence is on its way.

Yesterday afternoon I had a phone call from Christopher. Marty said he had been playing with the phone, saying "Nana," so she said, "Why don't we call her?" Of course, when I said hello, he got really quiet for a while, but I did hear "hi" before they hung up. We can't wait to spend some time with him this summer.

We had supper with Tommy and family Friday night, the first time we had been to their house for a meal in five weeks. In honor of the occasion Tommy copied a dish he had eaten in one of his all time favorite restaurants, The Crescent City Grill in Hattiesburg, MS. He made andouille and pecan encrusted salmon on the grill--a real treat. I had planned to make a dessert, but got involved making something else to take and ran out of time. True to form, Drew walked through the kitchen and asked if I had brought dessert. You can bet I had something ready last night when we grilled hot dogs and hamburgers together.

Today is Palm Sunday, the beginning of Holy Week. It is a week when the thoughts of Christians turn to the suffering and crucifixion of Jesus. But, just as surely as these days bring sorrow, the resurrection which follows brings great joy and celebration. May this be a week of reflection and repentance, culminating with the proclamation: I know that my Redeemer lives.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

Tom and I traveled to Corinth yesterday for our visit with the oncologist. I honestly cannot categorize the news, but I can say that we were grateful for what we heard. The cancer has not progressed, but neither has it disappeared. For me the cancer news was overshadowed by the news that my lungs are irritated. The chemo has caused the problem and the lungs are the reason I have been so fatigued, have run the low grade fever, experience shortness of breath and have had a cough that I couldn't kick. Symptoms of the last four weeks have been similar to some I had prior to the admission to the hospital in September, 2006 for pneumonia so I wasn't terribly surprised to hear about lung problems. I am currently being treated for the symptoms, resting and waiting to see what happens with the cancer. I will see the doctor monthly and have blood work done to help him with his assessment. A newer drug he has wanted to try, but couldn't because of insurance restrictions is now avaiable to me so it's possible I'll change drugs again. For now, it's get the lungs well and rest.

Yes, I wanted to hear those special words, "You are cancer free," but was not devastated that I didn't. My trust in God is not one bit less and I'm still praying expectantly. It was good to have an explanation for my problems of the last several weeks and even better to have something to treat the symptoms. I actually slept all night last night without coughing. That was a bonus!!

I haven't updated you on Tom lately, mainly because I haven't felt a lot like writing, but also because his medications have more or less stabilized his condition. He has given his all in taking care of me and I know there have been days when he didn't have much more energy than I did. He is the world's best husband. His not being able to drive is a real handicap, but we have learned to manage. He is really making the effort to get ready and go to Sunday School with me. Our worship service is at 10 a.m., followed by SS, so neither of us has tried to make that. With my teaching responsibilities, I can't afford to get too tired going to church and then not be able to stay for SS. I'm hoping that soon we'll get back in our Sunday routine. Now, if I could just get some weight on him, things would really be looking up!!

Again, we thank you for your prayers, your cards and letters, phone calls and e-mails. We are truly blessed to have your names in our address book and the memories of you in our hearts.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

Hair is a funny thing and people are even funnier! After eight months of chemo, the hair that I was told might thin, has decided it doesn't like my head anymore. Hair on my arms, hands and legs has been gone for months, but as told, it only thinned on my head--until about two or so weeks ago when it started showing up everywhere except my head. Why? I have no idea! I went this morning for a trim and asked my stylist to cut it really short so I wouldn't be bothered with it coming out and so that my wigs would fit better. Instead, she cut it close in the back and sort of spiked it on top. It is so not me! But, so what? It's hair, it's mine and it's still here today.

The funny thing is that I have always complained about my hair genes. My father looked like a black bear without his shirt, though he was folically challenged on his head. I inherited his hair genes and have hated having hair on my fingers and toes. We all have hair we want and hair we don't want. Most of my life the hair on my head has been the crowning glory about which the Scripture speaks--thick, easy to manage and it grayed well. Not so today. Each time I've lost it, it has come back a different texture and a little whiter. I realized one day that the hair genes I've always hated are the same genes that have kept hair on my head at times when other chemo patients were losing theirs. People are funny--wanting what we do not have or hating that which we do. Well, I am not my hair and just as I've had fun with the reddish wigs, I'll have fun with this "in" hairdo. Maybe we'll take a picture so you can see.

Tom and I drove to Memphis for my scans yesterday. There is a large furniture store in a small town south of here and the owner, in the twangiest accent you can imagine, advertises on TV that shopping at his store is "worth the drive." (You have to hear him to fully appreciate.) Well, when I finished the process yesterday, I walked out to the waiting room and told Tom that it was definitely worth the drive. It was a far cry from the December experience when the vein blew and my arm blistered. We had high hopes of doing a little shopping in a "real city," but after meeting my cousin for lunch we were exhausted and just came home. We go to Corinth Friday to get the results and learn what my next step will be.

I am grateful for the excellent medical care I have received, both in Sacramento and here and I trust my doctor explicitly. We keep in mind the prognosis we got in 2006 and we know the facts, but we also remember when the prognosis was pronoucned that my doctor said, "But, I believe in miracles." For him, those could have been words spoken to comfort and reassure us, but they are not merely words. God is a God of miracles. God can and does heal when it is unexpected. We trust God for that healing power and His unfailing faithfulness. Please join us as we pray for clean scans on Friday. I am reminded of a favorite gospel song, "He Giveth More Grace," and know that God's grace is sufficient for any situation.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

The run has come to an end. We have just witnessed our MSU Bulldogs fall to a bigger, more aggressive, more rested Washington basketball team. It's always disappointing to lose, but win or lose, we support the Dawgs. I remember the Bob Boyd days when we had little or nothing and the whole game was about ball control--it was a slow, dull game. Since those days the rules have changed and things move a bit more quickly. We'll now pull for LSU and Memphis--maybe North Carolina if they beat LSU. And as the saying goes among MSU fans, "Wait til next year."

I have reversed my progress back around the corner I turned on Sunday. If anything, I have had a little more energy, but when walking across the floor makes my heart pound and makes me struggle for breath, we know I'm not up to par. One thing that concerns us both is that I continue to run a low grade fever, but it is supposed to reach 100.5 before you contact the doctor. Since I, like so many, consistently have a 97.2 - 97.5 normal temperature, I know that anything over 98.6 is fever for me. That, in itself, makes you tired, but I haven't called anyone. My appetite is practically nonexistent, consequently I'm shedding a few pounds. That's a good thing! Tom has been concerned about our going to Memphis on Friday for the scans since I do all the driving. Tommy has a marriage counseling appointment out of town and isn't available to help us. This afternoon when the clinic called to remind me I told them I wasn't feeling too chipper and they said they would reschedule me for next week, but still in time for the doctor to see the scans before he sees me. Praise God! Now I have four more days to regain some strength. It has been a long three weeks.

I am in the midst of teaching a four part series on Keys to Living based on I Peter, the lectio devina spiritual discipline and Richard Foster's newest book, Life with God, Reading the Bible for Spiritual Transformation. If you are not familiar with Foster or this book, I would encourage you to look into it, follow its simple suggestions for reading God's Word and your life will be blessed. It's $25 well spent! Our first "key" last Sunday is to realize that we are chosen by God. The assignment for the week was to consider a current circumstance and meditate on how being chosen by God affects that circumstance. In our household, such a "key" gives us the assurance and encouragement to live one day at a time knowing that God is in charge.

Blessings,

Pastor Margaret

When I awoke this morning I felt like I'd turned a corner. My first thought? It's about time! I had a little more energy and didn't have to rest as long after my shower. My hands and feet are about the same and my toes are not as sensitive to touch. Besides the fatigue my main complaint continues to be a sore place in my mouth, but it could be worse: the sores could be on both sides rather than just one. I am actually looking forward to the drive to Memphis on Friday to have scans done. We'll make an adventure of it.

Our Mississippi State Bulldogs won the SEC conference tournanment today and we were right here in front of the TV cheering them on. The win assures us a place in the NCAA tournament, meaning that our personal interest in the tournament isn't over yet! Almost everything in Tennessee is ORANGE and the sounds of "Rocky Top" being sung fills the air. The lone exception is the large contingency of Memphis fans who have been cheering on a better than average basketball team for as long as I can remember. As Mississippi State fans, we are definitely in the minority! Go Dawgs!!

Blessings,

Pastor Margaret

There are certain advantages to being parents of adult children and in watching them raise their children. In fact, there are far too many to itemize. I love to hear our children talk about their childhoods, the things they did--some I remember, some I don't; some I'm learning for the first time. Today, some things don't seem like such a big deal and I can actually laugh at them aloud. Some of those things demanded a straight face in years past. It's fun to laugh and talk about things together. Yesterday several folks came into Sunday School laughing about some experiences Tommy shared in his children's sermon. They wanted to know if he really did those things (like painting the carport floor and giving the dog chewing gum which she spit out and got all imbedded in an Oriental area rug) and I said "Yes, and I'm sure there are more experiences I have yet to learn." It's all a part of growing up--laughable now; a bit more serious then.

We can also watch the grandchildren with a somewhat more relaxed attitude. I chuckled as Drew told me the unofficial stats of how many grapes in a row he, Sarah and Jacob could toss into the air and catch with their mouths before missing. Then he said, "You should see Jacob do a pop tart." I don't think his mom thought it was as funny as I did. Grandparents can laugh at things that parents often have to take more seriously. Often, when Marty and I are on the phone together, she will correct Christopher with a stern, "No sir. We don't do that." All the while I'm smiling and wondering what that sweet, innocent little boy could possibly be doing to warrant such a stern voice.

And, you know, I'm more grown up myself. I know that there is nothing more important than being available to a grandchild. Reading to Mer takes precedence over the evening news. Everything gets put aside when Elisa makes a bee-line toward you and grabs you around the legs. "I love you" takes on a whole new meaning when it comes from the mouth of a grandchild. As a grandparent I have the advantage of either having more time or taking more time when a child calls my name; as a grandparent I'm more tolerant and a lot more patient. I have stories to share and lessons to learn from each one of them.

Liz shared a Drew story with us yesterday. It seems that he and Jacob were having a brotherly squabble Saturday morning. Jacob was mad because he thought Drew got him in trouble and Drew was mad because Jacob was mad. (You know the vicious circle.) Jacob was planning to spend the night with a friend and had his bag out on the bed getting it ready. When he wasn't looking Drew saw his chance to get back at him. He took a pink teddy bear/blanket toy and hid it in Jake's bag under the top layer of clothes. I suspect Drew got the last laugh when the bear was discovered in the bag. I don't know I would have thought of doing something like that when I was six years old.

On a serious note, yesterday in Sunday School the teacher asked what would happen if you didn't obey God's commandments. Drew put his hand in the air to answer. He said, "If you don't do what God tells you to, you'll go straight to hell." I promise we do not preach hellfire and damnation to our Sunday School children, but his answer did make me think. My first thought was this great verse in Romans: The wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord. Do we not more fully comprehend "grace" when we also understand that there are consequences for sin? Drew's answer says to me that he is learning that there is a difference between right and wrong and that God expects obedience from His children. It says to me that Drew understands that truly God hates sin. Right now he knows the first part of the Romans verse; in due time he'll embrace the gift of God and understand "grace." I had the great advantage of baptizing Drew and now have the advantage of watching him grow as a child of the covenant.

Blessings,

Pastor Margaret

ZAAP! BOI-I-I-NG! HELP! My body met me Monday morning with protests. The chemo treatment on Friday really zapped me. I have felt like one of those weak, nerdy comic book characters who are at the mercy of the big, mean, powerful super bad guys. When Tom told me I needed to stay in bed, I didn't object and have been there all week, running temperature and having absolutely no energy. I told Tommy this afternoon that I knew I was better because I could think about what I would be doing if I were up and until today, I haven't had the energy to think. Enough whining! Tommy and Liz have kept us fed and fed well. Last night we had grilled catfish and tonight Liz brought green peppers stuffed with shrimp, rice and cheese. I told them it would be easy to be spoiled by such good food. I haven't felt like eating much, but it's been good to see Tom eat and enjoy things.

The snow we had over the weekend finally topped at 13 inches. Unbelievable! Jackson had not had that much snow in forty years. Most of it has gone, but it hung around long enough for the children to have fun in it. I asked Sarah and Drew one day when they walked around here if they had made snowballs, snowmen or snow angels. Yes, to snowballs and snowmen, but they said it was too deep for snow angels. They would lie down on it, sink and not be able to move their arms and legs. Marty sent pictures of Christopher playing in their front yard and he looked like he was having a great time. Now, we're in a steady warming trend and I hope when I do feel like getting outside that the signs of Spring will have reappeared.

We covet your prayers for energy and, as always, for healing. We also ask for prayers for our friend Henry who has had two back surgeries in the past week. God is merciful, gracious, full of compassion and oh so faithful (Lamentations 3:22,23)!

Blessings,

Pastor Margaret

Here's the update on the winter storm warning. We have just come home from an evening with family and wondered just how much we would slip and slide coming home. What was supposed to be an inch of snow is already five inches, still falling and not supposed to stop until morning. Church services have been cancelled at many area churches because of icy road conditions. Our power has flickered once or twice and went off completely a few minutes ago. Tom is searching for candles. The weather folks have "cried wolf" several times this winter, but they weren't wrong this time. Our street looks like a winter wonderland, but we are mindful of the danger of breaking limbs and powerlines and tomorrow the streets will indeed be slick. Hope you all are safe and warm!
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

Yesterday we took our monthly trek to Corinth. If you have been a follower of this blog you know how much I love observing the changing seasons and how they compare to the seasons and events of our lives. As we started out yesterday I began to note the signs of Spring at the end of our driveway. Today is a different matter; pardon while I digress. We had a saying in Mississippi that I find just as true and just as often quoted here in West Tennessee: If you don't like the weather, wait five minutes and it will change. The weather man said it just this morning as he gave the winter weather warning in effect until tomorrow. He says we're expecting at least an inch of snow tonight----and by Friday it will be in the seventies. Back to Spring. The jonquils at the end of the drive were beginning to open and there were buds opening on fruit trees; a hint of green could be seen in the fields and evidence that planting is soon to be started. I noticed houses through the trees, houses that are usually hidden by dense green leaves. Soon they will be hidden again. This morning as I drove in from an errand I noticed tiny yellow flowers on the forsythia across the back, forsythia that until now looked dead. With each passing day, the signs of new birth are revealed more and more. There is no more appropriate visual for the preparation for the resurrection of our Lord!

The visit with the oncologist was as good as it could be is way Tom described it. I told him my concerns/complaints and those of my family--mainly the shortness of breath and the fatigue, both of which are common to the Doxil. He, again, suggested we could delay the treatment so that I might improve some and, again, I said, "No, let's forge ahead." The condition of my feet has improved, though my walking is still affected. My hands continue to be problematic, but have been greatly helped by a suggestion from friend John in California. The plan is that I will have scans in three weeks, see the doctor the next week, then plan from what he finds. We are hopeful because we trust ultimately in our God who is both powerful anf faithful! Please continue to pray with and for us.

Our God is great and greatly to be praised!

Blessings,

Pastor Margaret

A modicum of energy returned Saturday, three weeks after my last treatment. I've been told that fatigue is one of the big side effects of the drug I'm taking, but three weeks down and one up is not exactly how I invisioned things. Still, I am plagued by extreme shortness of breath. Climbing a flight of stairs if a real chore. I remember my condition a little over two years ago when there wasn't enough oxygen in my blood. I don't know what is going on now, but I'll surely inquire when we see the oncologist this Friday. We'll also try to learn if there will be more treatments in this regimen and if so, how many.

Tom has been doing really well for about six weeks. Then, toward the end of last week his balance again became a problem and he talked to children who were not here. No meds have changed; his daily pattern has remained the same. I really don't know why he has taken this downhill turn. Getting out does him good which is one reason I try to have enough energy to take him out when the weather is nice. He has an appointment in a couple of weeks with the neurologist and we'll have questions ready for him.

Tomorrow is our daughter's birthday and we won't be with her to celebrate. I remember the weekend she was born as if it were yesterday. The first time I held her she looked at me as if she were asking, "Who in the world are you?" In the years since we have gotten to know one another and had some great times together. Still, I look at her and marvel at her talent, her caring heart and the woman she has become. She is a terrific mother--the kind I wish I had been. I can only be grateful for God's gifts to her! Christopher is one fortunate little boy! Tom and I are two fortunate parents.

This afternoon there was a "tap, tap, tap" on the back door and there stood Drew. He and Sarah were walking their dog Max, and had come for a visit. They love to play in our yard. What they don't know is how much we love to look up and see them standing on the back porch. The life we left to move here has been replaced with one that is full of family. Who could ask for anything more?

Thank you for reading; thank you for keeping us in your prayers. God is good all the time; all the time God is good.

Blessings,

Pastor Margaret

Today is our 42nd wedding anniversary, a special day indeed!! I remember our wedding day as if it were yesterday. It was dreary and overcast and a light rain fell as we went to the church that morning for a "walk through." I had been to get my hair done while Dad and Tom worked at my apartment to be sure everything had been packed and was ready to go when we left the church that afternoon headed for Ft. Sill, Oklahoma. When we exited the church following the ceremony, the sun was shining. Oh, what a day! The years between then and now have flown and with each passing year I am more grateful for our life together. Though we are very much the individuals we were before our wedding, we are both aware of how much we are one. I cannot imagine life without Tom!

Tommy cooked a wonderful, celebratory dinner Sunday night: roast tenderloin of beef with a potato sandwich and green salad. The potatoes were julienned and sauteed in a rectangular shape, then put on a baking sheet. A layer of carmelized onion and cheddar cheese was added, then another layer of potatoes. Dessert was chocolate mousse pie, leftover from our Valentine dinner the night before. We shouldn't have to eat again for a week.

Celebrations are special and help us show how we feel about people and things. We celebrate anniversaries, not only of weddings, but other events as well: graduation, retirement, taking a new job or position. Birthdays are cause for celebration. In a way we even celebrate the birthdays of those who have passed from this life to the next, as we remember them and thank God for their lives. Tom and I celebrate every day, knowing that each day is a gift from God. We celebrate when we think of the vows we took, promising to always love and honor one another in every situation--sickness and health being a big one for us. We don't look like that bride and groom in the pictures taken 2/18/67. He is thinner and balder; I am larger and gray.
We smiled then because we were happy. We smile today because we have the joy of sharing all our days together.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

Don't you love it when someone, or better yet, something, questions who you are? I tried for at least five minutes this morning to begin posting this blog and the server kept telling me that I was "unknown." Finally, after much frustration and attempting every combination of my name that I could think of, I exited, re-entered, tried again and was allowed to sign in. Here I am--the same person I was when I started minutes before!

It's rather like this is the same song, second verse. Last week started badly, with much fatigue and lots of bed rest. Shortness of breath is a problem and simple tasks like walking to the mail box, going to the grocery or walking from the parking lot into the church wind me. That's probably a combination of the drug, the fatigue and being overweight. As the week progressed my energy got better and by dividing the errands into two days, we got them done and I finished the week by going to Presbytery on Saturday. This week is going to be much better!!!

Saturday, Valentine's Day, was the day designated for the winter Presbytery of the Mid-South Meeting and it was hosted in a small town further west from here, but before you reach the Mississippi River. It was a beautiful old church, the people were quite hospitable and had prepared a delicious barbequed chicken lunch. FACT: When in West Tennessee, eat bar-b-que. You won't be sorry. There was one problem, however. Unless you walked to the back where there was a ramp, it was difficult to enter the front of the church--too many steps. Then, the fellowship hall was on the lower level and there was no elevator.

Having worked with older adults all these years, I am aware of the codes concerning accessiblity and the fact that churches built prior to the time those codes took effect, did not have to conform at the time. Only remodeling or new construction need follow the codes. Baloney! I couldn't help but wonder when I saw those steps in front how many visitors were discouraged from attending a service there because they didn't know there was a ramp in back. Fortunately, there were hosts in the parking lot and I asked if there was an alternate way to enter. How would someone attending a wedding, for instance, get to the fellowship hall for the reception? When are we going to take realistic looks at our facilities and make them accessible for all individuals?

Older, small town churches are not the only ones who need a look and an update. The church where we worship now has made every effort to be accommodating to the handicapped and its older members--almost. Still, it has a two story educational facility with no elevator and staff offices are located in a stately old mansion and can only be reached by ascending the grand staircase. The church I served in California was careful to make the spacious, modern Family Life Center accessible when it opened in 2000. However, getting to it from the parking lots requires a lot of walking--something that proves quite difficult if one uses a walker and is coming to a pot luck luncheon. The parking lots have the required number of handicapped spaces for the total number, but even those don't suffice for the number that is needed. People often told me that they came on Sunday, couldn't find a place close enough to park, so they turned and went home. I am sure these stories can be repeated all accross our country.

This particular "soapbox" is one where I've stood theoretically for many years. Now, having experienced some of these problems myself, I am more aware than ever. I am also aware that changes often require money in the budget that is simply not there. Church budgets have really felt the financial strain of these days, but that does not always have to mean improvements cannot be made. Be creative! You and I need to step up and speak up for the needs of older adults and/or the handicapped. If you have suggestions to share, please let me hear from you by adding a comment.

Blessings,

Pastor Margaret

It's been a week since I've written anything. Honestly, I haven't much felt like it. The cumulative effects of the chemo seemed to come crashing down and at least three days in the past week I haven't even gotten dressed. We did go out last Saturday, the day after treatment, for a trip to the grocery, I taught a Sunday School class the next day and we joined Tommy, Liz and family for the Super Bowl. We had a couple of really cold days when the temperatures didn't get over thirty five degrees so it was easy to stay inside. My fingers have been sore, my feet are dry and peeling, some toenails are lifting and I have felt like a truck ran over me. Of course, when I go back and read about the drug I'm taking, I realize there's a reason I have low grade temp and am exhausted. Nobody says I have to like it though!

Last night we went to Tommy and Liz's for supper and a visit. Just being there, spending time with them and especially the two youngest girls was food for the soul. At one time there were so many people talking at one time that I wasn't sure of the conversation I was having. Tommy made a delicious dish of grilled tilapia served over saffron rice and covered with a black bean and tomato concoction. It was great! Today the three older children came to help clean up the leaves in our yard. They filled five big plastic bags and there are at least three times that many more on the ground. Maybe they can attack it again next weekend.

I have been reading two books along with the study I'm doing in Mark: Keep in Step with the Spirit by J.I. Packer and Life with God by Richard Foster. The first is a really in depth study of the Holy Spirit and the second is designed to teach the reader to be transformed by his/her reading of the Scripture. Some of its material might also be found in Celebration of Discipline, probably Foster's most familiar work and actually might be good to read before reading Celebration. The chapter on lectio devina is one of the best teachings on this discipline I have seen and I have been able to break it down into simple steps that I can remember without having to have a complete set of instructions in front of me. One day this week I chose Psalm 100 as the passage on which I would dwell. Present in my mind since then has been the phrase from the NIV that says: and we are his (vs. 3). The implications of what it means to belong to God are endless and have provoked unending praise and thanksgiving.

Being sidelined by fatigue reminds me of the seriousness of the illnesses we both face and being reminded often brings questions about the future. In my study tonight for Mark tomorrow I came across this statement made by the professor who taught my class called "A Spiritual Theology of the Book of Mark." He said: Don't let fear blind you to the power and faithfulness of God. I wrote his quote down in my journal right next to the Psalm 100:3 phrase, we are his. Together, that is food--no, a banquet--for thought!

Blessings,

Pastor Margaret