How soon one forgets!
Some of the wondering of last week has answers. I wondered how the treatment would affect me. Now I know. The sudden "sock it to me" fatigue didn't accompany this drug. It was rather slow in coming and it finally dawned on me why I am so tired and energyless--the red count must have dropped. How could I forget lowered blood counts? I also got a series of blister-like bumps on my feet and legs. I showed them to Liz and she asked if they were chiggers. So, we dubbed them "chemo chiggers." (If you're not familiar with redbug or chigger bites you won't know what I mean. Believe me. You're not missing anything.)
Hurricane Fay made it to West Tennessee today bringing soaking rain showers. More is expected, but not to the extent Florida and other states got it. Everything is clean and a beautiful shade of green. I love the way it smells and the way it looks after a good rain. My thoughts and prayers are with those who have had flooding rains--the smell is not so pleasant, it's not clean, nor beautiful.
Are you not tempted to ask why some are flooded and some are spared? The Bible says that it "rains on the just and the unjust." That's common grace. It's God's specific grace that gets my attention and it's that on which I rely. When I think about the diseases that plague Tom and me, I could ask, "Why us?" Spiritually and theologically I don't ask that question. I do wonder about both cancer and Parkinson's medically. Is there something we should have done differently? Is there something we need to know to tell our children? A few years ago I had gene testing to see if I have a defective gene that would have prompted both breast and ovarian cancer. I learned that I'm not defective, only unique. That was good news for my children and grandchildren as far as not inheriting the gene goes, but they could be as random as I. How can my experience help them? I do ask that question almost daily.
It is a fact: God is good all the time. All the time God is good.
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret
Monday, August 25, 2008
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
It's a day for fussing, a day for wondering. Little things irritate. It's the fourth day after treatment and I'm still wondering what will happen next.
I remember well the side effects of Doxil when I had it six years ago, but it was administered along with two other drugs. Did three together make a difference? Does the current condition of my body make a difference? One of the most annoying side effects was sores in my mouth and throat. The good thing was I got to sip on milk shakes--with no guilt. The bad thing was it was really difficult to talk--bad for me, maybe good for others. This morning I awoke with a sore throat and a bump on the end of my tongue. Immediately I wondered if this is the beginning of a side effect. It's not fun to wonder.
Our helper didn't show up and hasn't called. A family with whom she has a long history pressed her into service last week and I heard in a round about way yesterday that the family has had another crisis. That I understand. What I don't understand is what's so hard about picking up the phone and letting someone know? We really depended on her coming today and have been wondering if it's time to increase the time she spends with us.
Tom is out of one of his meds and has gone almost 48 hours without it. We've been having "discussions" with the supplier and the insurance company concerning the prescription as written versus a generic. It's not productive to wonder how the insurance company can make better decisions than the neurologist. Wondering causes my dander and my blood pressure to rise. I spoke with the nurse yesterday and wonder why she hasn't called back. How long can Tom go without it?
We had wanted to make a quick trip to Mississippi this week so I could attend a luncheon honoring a long time friend who has retired. In years past we would have just packed a bag, jumped in the car and taken off. The operative word here is "past." How did we get old so soon? I wonder . . .
There are other things that cause even more of wonder: our wonderful years together; an abundance of friends; a loving, caring family; beautiful grandchildren. Life itself is a wonder! Why waste time wondering about the irritants? Focusing on the wonders of God's blessings is the only way.
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret
I remember well the side effects of Doxil when I had it six years ago, but it was administered along with two other drugs. Did three together make a difference? Does the current condition of my body make a difference? One of the most annoying side effects was sores in my mouth and throat. The good thing was I got to sip on milk shakes--with no guilt. The bad thing was it was really difficult to talk--bad for me, maybe good for others. This morning I awoke with a sore throat and a bump on the end of my tongue. Immediately I wondered if this is the beginning of a side effect. It's not fun to wonder.
Our helper didn't show up and hasn't called. A family with whom she has a long history pressed her into service last week and I heard in a round about way yesterday that the family has had another crisis. That I understand. What I don't understand is what's so hard about picking up the phone and letting someone know? We really depended on her coming today and have been wondering if it's time to increase the time she spends with us.
Tom is out of one of his meds and has gone almost 48 hours without it. We've been having "discussions" with the supplier and the insurance company concerning the prescription as written versus a generic. It's not productive to wonder how the insurance company can make better decisions than the neurologist. Wondering causes my dander and my blood pressure to rise. I spoke with the nurse yesterday and wonder why she hasn't called back. How long can Tom go without it?
We had wanted to make a quick trip to Mississippi this week so I could attend a luncheon honoring a long time friend who has retired. In years past we would have just packed a bag, jumped in the car and taken off. The operative word here is "past." How did we get old so soon? I wonder . . .
There are other things that cause even more of wonder: our wonderful years together; an abundance of friends; a loving, caring family; beautiful grandchildren. Life itself is a wonder! Why waste time wondering about the irritants? Focusing on the wonders of God's blessings is the only way.
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Several of the past few days the verse, "This is the day the Lord has made; we will rejoice and be glad in it" kept running through my mind. As Friday and the return visit to the oncologist approached, I asked myself if I could stop the verse from "running through" and have it stay with me all day long. Thankfully, I can tell you now, in the early Saturday morning hours, that it was a good day: God's handiwork was present everywhere; we rejoiced in the report, the treatment, the clinic personnel who do indeed become your friends; the love and support of family, including grandchildren who don't understand exactly, but know enough to give support in their own ways; and we especially rejoiced in the end of the day birthday celebration for Tom.
The scans indicate disease that has progressed since the last ones were taken in April, but the good news is it has not spread to other sites. The radiologist who wrote the report seemed to write in more complete and understandable language than some of the others, a style a layperson like I appreciate. His words will help me not wonder everytime there is a new (and normal) feeling of passing discomfort. After all I have had major surgery in my abdomen, I'm not a spring chicken, I am overweight and have had just a bit of chemo in my lifetime. Normal wear and tear on the body takes its toll!
My oncologist is kind and gentle, a man of few words, but he reminds me of an old TV commercial for a brokerage firm. Do you know the one I mean? The setting was usually very noisy with many people engaged in conversation. Suddenly, one person would lean over to another and quietly say, "When E.F. Hutton speaks . . ." , the room would grow silent and everyone would stop to listen. When Dr. Reed speaks, I listen. I know he has researched my condition and has used his best knowledge and wisdom to prescribe what is best for me. The drug of choice, this the fourth time to be treated for ovarian, is Doxil, a drug I had the first time in the clinical trial at UC Davis. This time it is the only drug, whereas the first time it was an addition to the usually prescribed drugs for my particular cancer and stage. Though I was told today that it is less toxic than some, I blamed all the quirky side effects on it. We'll see how it affects me this time. I had the first treatement today, will have one in September and October and then re-evaluate. The questions remain: how long will chemo be able to control the cancer? How long will I be able to tolerate the drugs? Will I have to have some sort paper to certify me as a "toxic waste site?"
A part of my faith statment centers around question and answer number one in the Westminster Shorter Catechism: What is man's chief end? Man's chief end is to glorify God and to enjoy Him forever. So the greater question for me will always be: Today and in what way will I glorify God and enjoy Him? Cancer will one day destroy my body, but it will never destroy my relationship with God. He has all the answers.
Thank you for all your continued prayers.
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret
The scans indicate disease that has progressed since the last ones were taken in April, but the good news is it has not spread to other sites. The radiologist who wrote the report seemed to write in more complete and understandable language than some of the others, a style a layperson like I appreciate. His words will help me not wonder everytime there is a new (and normal) feeling of passing discomfort. After all I have had major surgery in my abdomen, I'm not a spring chicken, I am overweight and have had just a bit of chemo in my lifetime. Normal wear and tear on the body takes its toll!
My oncologist is kind and gentle, a man of few words, but he reminds me of an old TV commercial for a brokerage firm. Do you know the one I mean? The setting was usually very noisy with many people engaged in conversation. Suddenly, one person would lean over to another and quietly say, "When E.F. Hutton speaks . . ." , the room would grow silent and everyone would stop to listen. When Dr. Reed speaks, I listen. I know he has researched my condition and has used his best knowledge and wisdom to prescribe what is best for me. The drug of choice, this the fourth time to be treated for ovarian, is Doxil, a drug I had the first time in the clinical trial at UC Davis. This time it is the only drug, whereas the first time it was an addition to the usually prescribed drugs for my particular cancer and stage. Though I was told today that it is less toxic than some, I blamed all the quirky side effects on it. We'll see how it affects me this time. I had the first treatement today, will have one in September and October and then re-evaluate. The questions remain: how long will chemo be able to control the cancer? How long will I be able to tolerate the drugs? Will I have to have some sort paper to certify me as a "toxic waste site?"
A part of my faith statment centers around question and answer number one in the Westminster Shorter Catechism: What is man's chief end? Man's chief end is to glorify God and to enjoy Him forever. So the greater question for me will always be: Today and in what way will I glorify God and enjoy Him? Cancer will one day destroy my body, but it will never destroy my relationship with God. He has all the answers.
Thank you for all your continued prayers.
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret
Monday, August 11, 2008
Our trip to Corinth to the oncologist last Friday didn't provide all the answers we were seeking. A scan was necessary for the doctor to make specific recommendations so I had that done today and we will return to the oncologist this coming Friday. Visiting with him last week sent me scurrying to the computer to see what I could learn on my own. I read and heard before so much of what I found. I know the original diagnosis; I know what I have now is called recurrent cancer; I know a little about the different drugs that are used for treatment. BUT, there are so many unknowns! I wrote someone that it's like adding two and two and getting five. There are many variables. We do know that some sort of treatment is coming again--just not what it will be or when it will begin. We covet your prayers--certainly for a miracle and especially for God's all sufficient grace.
The day began by our going to the neurology clinic for Tom to have an MRI. This was the last test in a series of three that were ordered before he returns the end of the month. Tonight we are tired of all that both his test and mine entailed.
After a late lunch we hurried to a postal place to get my retirement application in to the Board of Pensions. Since leaving Fair Oaks I have been on disability, but eligibility for that is expiring this month and it's time for me to officially retire. I'm not sure which words I find the most distasteful: disabled or retired. I never really thought of myself as not being able to work and retirement was always in my far distance future. That was my plan, not God's. This morning I read Proverbs 11 and this verse of promise struck me: A generous man will prosper; he who refreshes others will himself be refreshed. One large part of ministry is serving God by serving God's people. That service comes in different shapes and forms. It might be by teaching and/or preaching God's Word; maybe by discipling others; certainly by offering care and compassion. Pastoral care was a large part of my call at Fair Oaks and God equipped me. He provided the resources I needed to respond to the needs of others and by responding I was blessed. The verse in Proverbs, in my mind, is a part of the promise of abundant life. Here's another prayer request: please pray that even in retirement, God will give me the opportunity to bless others.
Tonight we are enjoying some leftover jambalya that Tommy cooked for a church dinner yesterday. I had a little taste when I went down to make the dessert for the dinner and it was really good. I'd love to be able to give you all a taste.
News of the grandchildren: Jacob, Sarah and Drew all like their new teachers. Jacob is looking forward to beginner band this year; Sarah is glad to be in the same class with her friends; Drew is in first grade and seems ready to take on whatever comes. Meredith is going to play school two mornings a week, rather than day care. She'll be in charge after the first month. Elisa is now doing more crawling than scooting. I have to hurry to keep up with her. Christopher has learned to growl, prefers vegetables and tolerates fruit--like his mother. Mallory is a good big sister to Christopher and since she's in a year round school, she's already started her "new year." Everyday brings something new from each one of them. Aren't grandchildren special?
Have a good week. We'll keep you posted on things at this end.
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret
The day began by our going to the neurology clinic for Tom to have an MRI. This was the last test in a series of three that were ordered before he returns the end of the month. Tonight we are tired of all that both his test and mine entailed.
After a late lunch we hurried to a postal place to get my retirement application in to the Board of Pensions. Since leaving Fair Oaks I have been on disability, but eligibility for that is expiring this month and it's time for me to officially retire. I'm not sure which words I find the most distasteful: disabled or retired. I never really thought of myself as not being able to work and retirement was always in my far distance future. That was my plan, not God's. This morning I read Proverbs 11 and this verse of promise struck me: A generous man will prosper; he who refreshes others will himself be refreshed. One large part of ministry is serving God by serving God's people. That service comes in different shapes and forms. It might be by teaching and/or preaching God's Word; maybe by discipling others; certainly by offering care and compassion. Pastoral care was a large part of my call at Fair Oaks and God equipped me. He provided the resources I needed to respond to the needs of others and by responding I was blessed. The verse in Proverbs, in my mind, is a part of the promise of abundant life. Here's another prayer request: please pray that even in retirement, God will give me the opportunity to bless others.
Tonight we are enjoying some leftover jambalya that Tommy cooked for a church dinner yesterday. I had a little taste when I went down to make the dessert for the dinner and it was really good. I'd love to be able to give you all a taste.
News of the grandchildren: Jacob, Sarah and Drew all like their new teachers. Jacob is looking forward to beginner band this year; Sarah is glad to be in the same class with her friends; Drew is in first grade and seems ready to take on whatever comes. Meredith is going to play school two mornings a week, rather than day care. She'll be in charge after the first month. Elisa is now doing more crawling than scooting. I have to hurry to keep up with her. Christopher has learned to growl, prefers vegetables and tolerates fruit--like his mother. Mallory is a good big sister to Christopher and since she's in a year round school, she's already started her "new year." Everyday brings something new from each one of them. Aren't grandchildren special?
Have a good week. We'll keep you posted on things at this end.
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret
Wednesday, August 06, 2008
God works in mysterious ways!
Last week while in my "storing up for winter mode" I pondered the content of the Sunday School class I was to lead on Sunday. My thoughts centered on the Luke passage I wrote on in my last blog: Gabriel's visit conversation with Mary. The theme that emerged was that of "servanthood" and included another Mary washing the feet of Jesus in John and the Matthew passage that tells of God's Chosen Servant, quoting Isaiah 42. I started by asking the class to identify the place in Scripture where the three statements, "The Lord is with you; Nothing wll be impossible with God: and Let it be to me according to your word;" occurred. Next, we talked about each statement in its context and then how each had been important in our lives and ways in the future, each would impact us. (The rest of the class discussion directed attention to what it means for us to be servants of the Lord and the distinction between being a servant and serving.)
Yesterday when I learned that the CA125 had risen seven more points I knew God had directed me to prepare that lesson for me, not for the twenty or so people who came to class. A mystery to be sure!
Some have asked for a copy of the sermon I preached on Elisa's baptism day. It centered on God's promises to His children and I spoke of three that have been particularly meaningful in our family: "I will never leave you nor forsake you" from Joshua 1; "It is of the Lord's mercies that we are not consumed. They are new every morning. Great is God's faithfulness," Lamentations 3; and Jesus speaking to Paul in II Corinthians, "My grace is sufficient for you." God's promises are the very fabric of life!
Who knew that those same three promises would invade my consciousness as I was trying to go to sleep last night? Weeks ago when preparing that sermon I acknowledged what they have meant to us, not realizing I would need to cling to them again soon. They are words that never leave me, but this morning they are bold and in all caps! God knew what was needed.
On a recent "Good Morning America" there was a feature on a baby's smile and how it affects others. Babies make us smile when they smile, with their actions and sometimes when they do nothing at all. The fact the feature was highlighting is that our brains actually do react by affecting dopamine production and release which is necessary and beneficial. You may or may not know that Parkinson's is the result of decreased dopamine in the brain and the most effective treatment, thus far, is to replace that dopamine with medication.
Yesterday we kept Elisa for a couple of hours while the children's babysitter took the other four children swimming. Just being with Elisa produces smiles! She had not been here since she started scooting and crawling and was in rare form. I was telling her daddy what she did when I set her on the floor with her toys and he said, "I bet she already had mapped out where she wanted to go." How right he was! She sat, jumped up and down on her fanny, looked to see if we were watching and with a determined grin on her face began exploring. I've said before that she is good medicine for us both. Now we know one reason why--it helps with the dopamine Tom continues to lose.
God works in mysterious ways. We are humbled and grateful to be a part of His work.
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret
Last week while in my "storing up for winter mode" I pondered the content of the Sunday School class I was to lead on Sunday. My thoughts centered on the Luke passage I wrote on in my last blog: Gabriel's visit conversation with Mary. The theme that emerged was that of "servanthood" and included another Mary washing the feet of Jesus in John and the Matthew passage that tells of God's Chosen Servant, quoting Isaiah 42. I started by asking the class to identify the place in Scripture where the three statements, "The Lord is with you; Nothing wll be impossible with God: and Let it be to me according to your word;" occurred. Next, we talked about each statement in its context and then how each had been important in our lives and ways in the future, each would impact us. (The rest of the class discussion directed attention to what it means for us to be servants of the Lord and the distinction between being a servant and serving.)
Yesterday when I learned that the CA125 had risen seven more points I knew God had directed me to prepare that lesson for me, not for the twenty or so people who came to class. A mystery to be sure!
Some have asked for a copy of the sermon I preached on Elisa's baptism day. It centered on God's promises to His children and I spoke of three that have been particularly meaningful in our family: "I will never leave you nor forsake you" from Joshua 1; "It is of the Lord's mercies that we are not consumed. They are new every morning. Great is God's faithfulness," Lamentations 3; and Jesus speaking to Paul in II Corinthians, "My grace is sufficient for you." God's promises are the very fabric of life!
Who knew that those same three promises would invade my consciousness as I was trying to go to sleep last night? Weeks ago when preparing that sermon I acknowledged what they have meant to us, not realizing I would need to cling to them again soon. They are words that never leave me, but this morning they are bold and in all caps! God knew what was needed.
On a recent "Good Morning America" there was a feature on a baby's smile and how it affects others. Babies make us smile when they smile, with their actions and sometimes when they do nothing at all. The fact the feature was highlighting is that our brains actually do react by affecting dopamine production and release which is necessary and beneficial. You may or may not know that Parkinson's is the result of decreased dopamine in the brain and the most effective treatment, thus far, is to replace that dopamine with medication.
Yesterday we kept Elisa for a couple of hours while the children's babysitter took the other four children swimming. Just being with Elisa produces smiles! She had not been here since she started scooting and crawling and was in rare form. I was telling her daddy what she did when I set her on the floor with her toys and he said, "I bet she already had mapped out where she wanted to go." How right he was! She sat, jumped up and down on her fanny, looked to see if we were watching and with a determined grin on her face began exploring. I've said before that she is good medicine for us both. Now we know one reason why--it helps with the dopamine Tom continues to lose.
God works in mysterious ways. We are humbled and grateful to be a part of His work.
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Camp NaCoMe is not the St. Francis Westin!
Our Church here has been having a weekend family camp at NaCoMe for over forty years. It is a treasured tradition. I suspect that little has changed in all these years except that in more recent years the cabins have had air conditioning added. NaCoMe is located in middle Tennessee eighty miles from Jackson. Tom and I went there when there was no air conditioning and when we were much younger. Childcare is available for babies and young pre-schoolers, the elementary children have fun with crafts and middle-schoolers through adults gather in the pavillion for the program--this year: "Christmas in July." During free time children of all ages hunt for crawdads in the creek, swim in the frigid lake, canoe, washer pitch, fish and play impromtu games of volleyball, etc. Tom and I spent our free time rocking, watching grandchildren play and visiting with others as lazy as we were.
The heat and humidity were brutal. The campers who preceeded us didn't clean the cabin and my sheets didn't fit the bed. I woke up a lot during the night, to retuck the bottom sheegt and trying to find a comfortable position. I came home with back problems I haven't had in years. The St. Francis had all the ammenities one could want--and then some. The weather in San Francisco was cool enough to warrant a jacket even in the afternoon. The pillows on my bed were so comfortable that I came home and bought some for my own bed. It was luxury one weekend and the rustic life the next--quite a difference. One weekend was spent with Marty and Christopher, the next was spent with Tommy, Liz and children. The delight of being with family is the same. Being with family any time, any place is always my favorite place to be!
Tom and I made our first of the week trek to the Farmers' Market yesterday. We bought a box of tomatoes and a couple of bell peppers in anticipation of making chili sauce/tomato relish later in the week. My tomato man threw in a couple of jalopenos just 'cuz I'm a good customer. We also bought peaches to make dessert for last night and enough corn to have to eat this week and to put some in the freezer. I have two kinds of basil growing by the back steps and one sprig of rosemary in a pot--not at all like rosemary in our yard in California which had to be pruned constantly. The basil is doing well and I'm experimenting with fun ways to use it. Do you have any good ideas?
The young woman who led the retreat, a recent graduate of Columbia Seminary, did a good job of involving everyone as we looked at Scriptures most often identified with Advent and Christmas. She balanced fun activities with serious questions. One of the passages we talked about was the angel's visit to Mary, a passage that I have both preached and taught. It's also a passage that I use for personal meditation, pondering the statements: "The Lord is with you;" "nothing will be impossible with God;" and "Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word." We could have spent the entire weekend on this one passage or even these three statements. Think of how our lives, our witness would be if we had always on our hearts that the Lord is with us, that nothing is impossible with God and we declared that "I am a servant of the Lord. Whatever you choose, whatever you desire, wherever you send me, let it be so." The statements are inter-related--nothing is impossible because God is with me and I can live and be according to God's word because God is with me and nothing is impossible.
"Think on these things."
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret
Our Church here has been having a weekend family camp at NaCoMe for over forty years. It is a treasured tradition. I suspect that little has changed in all these years except that in more recent years the cabins have had air conditioning added. NaCoMe is located in middle Tennessee eighty miles from Jackson. Tom and I went there when there was no air conditioning and when we were much younger. Childcare is available for babies and young pre-schoolers, the elementary children have fun with crafts and middle-schoolers through adults gather in the pavillion for the program--this year: "Christmas in July." During free time children of all ages hunt for crawdads in the creek, swim in the frigid lake, canoe, washer pitch, fish and play impromtu games of volleyball, etc. Tom and I spent our free time rocking, watching grandchildren play and visiting with others as lazy as we were.
The heat and humidity were brutal. The campers who preceeded us didn't clean the cabin and my sheets didn't fit the bed. I woke up a lot during the night, to retuck the bottom sheegt and trying to find a comfortable position. I came home with back problems I haven't had in years. The St. Francis had all the ammenities one could want--and then some. The weather in San Francisco was cool enough to warrant a jacket even in the afternoon. The pillows on my bed were so comfortable that I came home and bought some for my own bed. It was luxury one weekend and the rustic life the next--quite a difference. One weekend was spent with Marty and Christopher, the next was spent with Tommy, Liz and children. The delight of being with family is the same. Being with family any time, any place is always my favorite place to be!
Tom and I made our first of the week trek to the Farmers' Market yesterday. We bought a box of tomatoes and a couple of bell peppers in anticipation of making chili sauce/tomato relish later in the week. My tomato man threw in a couple of jalopenos just 'cuz I'm a good customer. We also bought peaches to make dessert for last night and enough corn to have to eat this week and to put some in the freezer. I have two kinds of basil growing by the back steps and one sprig of rosemary in a pot--not at all like rosemary in our yard in California which had to be pruned constantly. The basil is doing well and I'm experimenting with fun ways to use it. Do you have any good ideas?
The young woman who led the retreat, a recent graduate of Columbia Seminary, did a good job of involving everyone as we looked at Scriptures most often identified with Advent and Christmas. She balanced fun activities with serious questions. One of the passages we talked about was the angel's visit to Mary, a passage that I have both preached and taught. It's also a passage that I use for personal meditation, pondering the statements: "The Lord is with you;" "nothing will be impossible with God;" and "Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word." We could have spent the entire weekend on this one passage or even these three statements. Think of how our lives, our witness would be if we had always on our hearts that the Lord is with us, that nothing is impossible with God and we declared that "I am a servant of the Lord. Whatever you choose, whatever you desire, wherever you send me, let it be so." The statements are inter-related--nothing is impossible because God is with me and I can live and be according to God's word because God is with me and nothing is impossible.
"Think on these things."
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
It finally happened! Tom and I visited theFarmers' Market mid-morning yesterday and "what to my wondering eyes did appear"----pink eye, purple hull peas. We bought half a bushel and since yesterday morning I have shelled and put up seven pints in the freezer and cooked another pint for supper tonight. They went well with country fried steak, mashed potatoes and gravy, tomato-cucumber marinade and the blackberry cobbler yet to be eaten. My thumbs are stained and tender, but what satisfaction to have those peas in my freezer! Now, if only I'd had some tomato relish to serve along with them.
I "gifted" the grandchildren last night with things from the conference, souvenirs from San Francisco and handmade aprons from a friend in Sacramento. Meredith had us put on her apron, opened a giant sucker Aunt Marty sent and carried around her cable car replica for the rest of the night (and I'm told today as well), saying all the time, "I just love it." Jake was spending the night with a friend so he didn't get his goodies until this afternoon when he and Drew walked down to our house to say hello. Sarah had six teeth pulled yesterday (has two more to come out Monday) but nothing can dim her beautiful smile! We should all take a lesson from children. For the most part, they just like the notion that you thought about them enough while you were away that you brought them something. What may seem like nothing to me is a big deal to them.
Too often we don't acknowledge this day as a gift. We take days, life, breath, necessities of life for granted. We act as if those gifts are nothing, but what big deals they are! Last night Tom and I went to the monthly Parkinson's Support Group and as I listened to people share the particular symptoms they suffer I couldn't help but silently thank God for Tom and the things he doesn't have. It's true he cannot do the things he once did, but he loves, he enjoys his family, his faith sustains him and his sense of humor keeps me laughing. He will always be the love of my life and I know everyday we have is a gift.
"This is the day the Lord has made. We will rejoice and be glad in it." We will also eat peas all winter and be glad.
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret
I "gifted" the grandchildren last night with things from the conference, souvenirs from San Francisco and handmade aprons from a friend in Sacramento. Meredith had us put on her apron, opened a giant sucker Aunt Marty sent and carried around her cable car replica for the rest of the night (and I'm told today as well), saying all the time, "I just love it." Jake was spending the night with a friend so he didn't get his goodies until this afternoon when he and Drew walked down to our house to say hello. Sarah had six teeth pulled yesterday (has two more to come out Monday) but nothing can dim her beautiful smile! We should all take a lesson from children. For the most part, they just like the notion that you thought about them enough while you were away that you brought them something. What may seem like nothing to me is a big deal to them.
Too often we don't acknowledge this day as a gift. We take days, life, breath, necessities of life for granted. We act as if those gifts are nothing, but what big deals they are! Last night Tom and I went to the monthly Parkinson's Support Group and as I listened to people share the particular symptoms they suffer I couldn't help but silently thank God for Tom and the things he doesn't have. It's true he cannot do the things he once did, but he loves, he enjoys his family, his faith sustains him and his sense of humor keeps me laughing. He will always be the love of my life and I know everyday we have is a gift.
"This is the day the Lord has made. We will rejoice and be glad in it." We will also eat peas all winter and be glad.
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret
Monday, July 21, 2008
To tell you what last week meant to me will take more than just a few words! I'm home, so glad to be back with Tom. Half of Monday is gone and I've done little more than get up, eat breakfast, lunch, check the mail and e-mail and wash a load of sheets. It's good to be lazy!
Being back at Fair Oaks was really special. In many ways it brought closure to our quick "get away" when we moved to Tennessee a year and a half ago. I honestly didn't think I would ever be there again or see my church family and that has been a source of real grief. I loved seeing so many at lunch on Tuesday and wished I could have had a personal conversation with each and every one. Still the welcome, the hugs and especially the prayer at the close of lunch filled me with a joy that will stay with me always. I may live far away, but we remain close in spirit.
The blogger convention was interesting, to say the least. There must have been a thousand people there--mostly young mother types, with a few men sprinkled here and there. They had come from across the country and talked about how blogging could be helpful to healing, how to post positively, how to blog to work for social change. Probably the most amazing thing to me was the marketing aspect of blogging. There was a ballroom full of sponsors and exhibitors, hawking their wares and offering free samples of children's games, CD's, computer software--you name it.
Of course, the best part of the convention was spending time with Marty and Christopher. He was a great little traveler and the hit of every crowd. He has this little infectious grin that won't quit.
Now I'm back in my own place, adjusting to the time change, the heat and humidity, trying to find stuff in the kitchen and resorting and folding the socks. When I found my hollow handle dinner knives in the dishwasher and the socks mismatched in fat balls instead of the way I do them, I heard the words of my mother-in-law saying, "Remember, no one ever does things exactly the way you do," her point being: be grateful for the help and don't sweat the small stuff. I could not have been away from home last week without Tommy and Liz and the lady who began helping us last summer. They each deserve a halo!
Thanks for reading.
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret
Being back at Fair Oaks was really special. In many ways it brought closure to our quick "get away" when we moved to Tennessee a year and a half ago. I honestly didn't think I would ever be there again or see my church family and that has been a source of real grief. I loved seeing so many at lunch on Tuesday and wished I could have had a personal conversation with each and every one. Still the welcome, the hugs and especially the prayer at the close of lunch filled me with a joy that will stay with me always. I may live far away, but we remain close in spirit.
The blogger convention was interesting, to say the least. There must have been a thousand people there--mostly young mother types, with a few men sprinkled here and there. They had come from across the country and talked about how blogging could be helpful to healing, how to post positively, how to blog to work for social change. Probably the most amazing thing to me was the marketing aspect of blogging. There was a ballroom full of sponsors and exhibitors, hawking their wares and offering free samples of children's games, CD's, computer software--you name it.
Of course, the best part of the convention was spending time with Marty and Christopher. He was a great little traveler and the hit of every crowd. He has this little infectious grin that won't quit.
Now I'm back in my own place, adjusting to the time change, the heat and humidity, trying to find stuff in the kitchen and resorting and folding the socks. When I found my hollow handle dinner knives in the dishwasher and the socks mismatched in fat balls instead of the way I do them, I heard the words of my mother-in-law saying, "Remember, no one ever does things exactly the way you do," her point being: be grateful for the help and don't sweat the small stuff. I could not have been away from home last week without Tommy and Liz and the lady who began helping us last summer. They each deserve a halo!
Thanks for reading.
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Here's an update on the peas--none, nada, zero! We were at the Farmers' Market mid-morning and I noticed the welcome sight of beautiful, tasty, pink eye, purple hull peas being put through the automatic sheller. A man had brought them to be shelled. Bummer. Again, came the promise: "I'll have some Tuesday." Fat chance. I won't be here and I doubt if anyone else in my family would get up to be at the market at 5 a.m. when sales begin. Liz is bringing home lots of tomatoes from her trip to see her parents. I suggested to Tommy he might like to have my chili sauce recipe that is at its best when served as relish on those elusive peas. I wonder how it would be by itself--without the peas.
Still, I'm thankful for the bounty we do enjoy.
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret
Still, I'm thankful for the bounty we do enjoy.
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret
Friday, July 11, 2008
Monday we made our monthly trip to Corinth to have blood work done. Tuesday brought the news we didn't want to hear: my CA125 is up ten points to 22.9. I've long known that oncology nurses are a rare breed and Wendy is no exception. She called to give me the results, to remind me that under 35 is normal and to say she would talk with the doctor and call me again yesterday. He reminded her that the April scans, while not perfect, were okay, nothing was found on examination so he's not concerned at this point. She conveyed all that with the admonition for me not to be concerned yet. Tom's comment was: "The doctor is not married to you either."
I know the drill--what my current doctor thinks--he's thorough and I trust him. Then I hear my California doctor telling me he wanted the count under 20 and that the amount of the jump in the count is telling. Here's the real deal. Good as they are, neither doctor is actually the healer. They know what they know from study and experience and what they tell me is an expert opinion at best. Should I be concerned? I'm not. Why waste a perfectly good month stewing over something that is out of my control? I know the real Healer. I'll let Him be in charge.
Tommy and I made an eight o'clock visit to the Farmers' Market Tuesday to buy peas to freeze, only to be disappointed. The man who we buy from said we should be there Wednesday between seven and seven thirty and he'd have some. So, after a mostly sleepless night for me, Tom and I got up and rushed off to buy the promised peas. There were none. Again, the message was, "I'll have some tomorrow." I couldn't go yesterday--had to have my car at the dealership early for a big check-up. Today there is too much else to get done. By now, however, I'm obsessed with peas, determined not to be denied. This winter when we're enjoying pink eye, purple hull treats, I'll think of summer and know they were worth all the trouble it's taking to buy them.
Sunday is Elisa's baptism. In addition to doing the baptism, I will also preach. It will be a memorable day for us. Tom will have tears of joy in his eyes and our hearts will be full. The sermon, Letter to Elisa, will be my attempt at sharing what baptism means, that it a sign of God's promise made to each of us. He is our God; we are His people. Therefore, the promises He has made are true, never to be broken. He is faithful to them, to us. Lest I omit any of the lectionary for the day, I'll tell her what Psalm 119:105 says about God's word being a light for our way and then the P.S. for her parents and her church family from Deut. 6:4-9. She won't know a word I say, but she'll know who is holding her at the time of the baptism and I pray that my life will be a sermon for her in the days to come. The sermon really is a bringing together of what I most want all my grandchildren to know: Life is all about God and God's faithful promises; God has given us His word to guide us. The P.S. is a charge to adult family and church family be Godly examples.
Monday I'm off to Sacramento. I can't wait!!!!
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret
I know the drill--what my current doctor thinks--he's thorough and I trust him. Then I hear my California doctor telling me he wanted the count under 20 and that the amount of the jump in the count is telling. Here's the real deal. Good as they are, neither doctor is actually the healer. They know what they know from study and experience and what they tell me is an expert opinion at best. Should I be concerned? I'm not. Why waste a perfectly good month stewing over something that is out of my control? I know the real Healer. I'll let Him be in charge.
Tommy and I made an eight o'clock visit to the Farmers' Market Tuesday to buy peas to freeze, only to be disappointed. The man who we buy from said we should be there Wednesday between seven and seven thirty and he'd have some. So, after a mostly sleepless night for me, Tom and I got up and rushed off to buy the promised peas. There were none. Again, the message was, "I'll have some tomorrow." I couldn't go yesterday--had to have my car at the dealership early for a big check-up. Today there is too much else to get done. By now, however, I'm obsessed with peas, determined not to be denied. This winter when we're enjoying pink eye, purple hull treats, I'll think of summer and know they were worth all the trouble it's taking to buy them.
Sunday is Elisa's baptism. In addition to doing the baptism, I will also preach. It will be a memorable day for us. Tom will have tears of joy in his eyes and our hearts will be full. The sermon, Letter to Elisa, will be my attempt at sharing what baptism means, that it a sign of God's promise made to each of us. He is our God; we are His people. Therefore, the promises He has made are true, never to be broken. He is faithful to them, to us. Lest I omit any of the lectionary for the day, I'll tell her what Psalm 119:105 says about God's word being a light for our way and then the P.S. for her parents and her church family from Deut. 6:4-9. She won't know a word I say, but she'll know who is holding her at the time of the baptism and I pray that my life will be a sermon for her in the days to come. The sermon really is a bringing together of what I most want all my grandchildren to know: Life is all about God and God's faithful promises; God has given us His word to guide us. The P.S. is a charge to adult family and church family be Godly examples.
Monday I'm off to Sacramento. I can't wait!!!!
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret
Thursday, July 03, 2008
It's a lazy July morning--hot and humid. People encountering the humidity for the first time often ask if one ever gets used to it. That's a difficult question to answer. If it's all you have ever known, it's accepted. If you have ever lived away from it for a while, as we did, you have to reacclimate. It takes longer to dry your hair, the air feels like it's squeezing you, pantyhose are pure misery and an unairconditioned car is torture. But, humidity is a small price to pay for the wonders of living in the South!
The Fourth of July menu depends on what's available at the Farmers' Market and whether or not the best meat counter in town has good looking ribs. It's probably going to rain buckets but since our grill is on the back porch, a little rain won't slow us down. My Georgia family always has a BIG family reunion on the Fourth where everyone brings a churn of ice cream. My mouth starts watering every year about mid-afternoon when I think of them opening those churns. We're having blueberry pie with store bought ice cream--what a sacrilege! Our churn wore out some years back and hasn't been replaced. This week I gave in to convenience and ordered one of the newer models that uses a bowl you put in the freezer before processing. I can't wait to get started, but it won't get her in time for the Fourth. Hope your holiday is full of fun, family, friends and food.
Tom is taking his after breakfast nap. We have seen both the opthamalogist and the new primary care doctor this week. Reports on the eyes were good, no appreciable changes in vision and the usual age related things. Cataracts are present, but not a problem for either of us, and the presence of pre-macular disease was noted again in my case. Tom's headaches are not eye related. We liked the new primary care person, appreciated his thoroughness and friendliness. His response to Tom's headaches was to give a different pain medication and to tell him to have the neurologist pursue the problem. So, again, no answers. It's frustrating, but he won't let it get him down completely.
Yesterday we had a message on the answer machine from a man identifying himself as having worked for Tom in Vietnam and wondering if he had the right Tom. He did and they spoke for a few minutes late in the afternoon. His name was familiar to me, but it took me a while to remember why. After we went to bed last night I filled in the blanks and could tell Tom what I remembered. Honestly, I hadn't thought of that name in forty years, but slowly the pieces fell into place. The mind is amazing, a lot more so than modern technology. He found Tom the up- to -date way: Googled his name, found it associated with a case that listed his former law firm, called the office and got our number from a friend who works there. I understand that better than how my mind remembered. There might be a sermon illustration forth coming.
Today "our pastor" is coming for a visit--actually for lunch and a visit. He's not the pastor of our church here, but the friend in the neighboring town for whom I preach occasionally. Paul was the associate in our Mississippi church, called by a committee Tom moderated, and he and his wife became good friends. He and I shared seminary stories, have had good theological discussions, he was my mother's faithful visitor and during the months of chemo when we were in California he called me every week. Some ministers find it difficult to provide pastoral care to people in their local community, but Paul proved that pastoral care has no boundaries. He ministered to me across the miles and I will always remember. It was not his duty; it came from the pastor's heart God has given him. He is a special man of God.
Writing of Paul reminds me that I'd best go make the tea and set the table. The hydrangeas are already in place, the Sister Schubert rolls are thawing and the tomatoes are ripe for slicing. It's a Southern lunch in the making. Wish you could share!
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret
The Fourth of July menu depends on what's available at the Farmers' Market and whether or not the best meat counter in town has good looking ribs. It's probably going to rain buckets but since our grill is on the back porch, a little rain won't slow us down. My Georgia family always has a BIG family reunion on the Fourth where everyone brings a churn of ice cream. My mouth starts watering every year about mid-afternoon when I think of them opening those churns. We're having blueberry pie with store bought ice cream--what a sacrilege! Our churn wore out some years back and hasn't been replaced. This week I gave in to convenience and ordered one of the newer models that uses a bowl you put in the freezer before processing. I can't wait to get started, but it won't get her in time for the Fourth. Hope your holiday is full of fun, family, friends and food.
Tom is taking his after breakfast nap. We have seen both the opthamalogist and the new primary care doctor this week. Reports on the eyes were good, no appreciable changes in vision and the usual age related things. Cataracts are present, but not a problem for either of us, and the presence of pre-macular disease was noted again in my case. Tom's headaches are not eye related. We liked the new primary care person, appreciated his thoroughness and friendliness. His response to Tom's headaches was to give a different pain medication and to tell him to have the neurologist pursue the problem. So, again, no answers. It's frustrating, but he won't let it get him down completely.
Yesterday we had a message on the answer machine from a man identifying himself as having worked for Tom in Vietnam and wondering if he had the right Tom. He did and they spoke for a few minutes late in the afternoon. His name was familiar to me, but it took me a while to remember why. After we went to bed last night I filled in the blanks and could tell Tom what I remembered. Honestly, I hadn't thought of that name in forty years, but slowly the pieces fell into place. The mind is amazing, a lot more so than modern technology. He found Tom the up- to -date way: Googled his name, found it associated with a case that listed his former law firm, called the office and got our number from a friend who works there. I understand that better than how my mind remembered. There might be a sermon illustration forth coming.
Today "our pastor" is coming for a visit--actually for lunch and a visit. He's not the pastor of our church here, but the friend in the neighboring town for whom I preach occasionally. Paul was the associate in our Mississippi church, called by a committee Tom moderated, and he and his wife became good friends. He and I shared seminary stories, have had good theological discussions, he was my mother's faithful visitor and during the months of chemo when we were in California he called me every week. Some ministers find it difficult to provide pastoral care to people in their local community, but Paul proved that pastoral care has no boundaries. He ministered to me across the miles and I will always remember. It was not his duty; it came from the pastor's heart God has given him. He is a special man of God.
Writing of Paul reminds me that I'd best go make the tea and set the table. The hydrangeas are already in place, the Sister Schubert rolls are thawing and the tomatoes are ripe for slicing. It's a Southern lunch in the making. Wish you could share!
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret
Friday, June 27, 2008
There seems to be an enormous sink hole in our neighborhood. Tommy and his family have gone to Atlanta to visit friends and pick up Jacob who has been there since last Saturday. Don't get me wrong. We're glad they went. They need a break and I know well how it feeds the soul to visit with good friends. Still, we'll be happy to see them when they come home Sunday.
I'm looking forward to a break myself! Several weeks ago Marty asked if I would go with her to a conference in San Francisco. For a brief second I was thinking how ridiculous that was and then, bingo, it hit me: San Francisco is about two hours from Sacramento. Not only would I be able to spend some good mother-daughter-grandson time with Marty and Christopher, I would be able to visit Fair Oaks friends! What a special treat!
My friend and former assistant, Mary, is taking up where we left off a year and a half ago when we moved. She is organizing my schedule and helping me plan my time in Sacramento. I can't wait to be there and to see folks--only wish it could be a longer visit and that I could see everybody. As I type that, I think of many who have passed in the months we've been gone: Tom, Mary Margaret, Shirley, Florence, Ileone, Donna and others. I will miss them, but, in my mind will see them in familiar places at the church and thank God for the gifts they have been to me.
Tom won't make this trip. It's really a mother-daughter getaway and I'm not sure he's up to it right now anyway. Tommy will spend the nights at our house with him and our helper will come to help him with breakfast and lunch. There is a part of me that is most reluctant to leave him, but I know I have to practice what I preach: the caregiver or care-partner (as I prefer) needs time away to regroup and refresh.
Our schedule is full in the days before the trip. We both have eye appointments next week and a visit with our new primary care physician. I have a morning of work scheduled at the church on the next step toward organizing an older adult ministry. One day we'll drive to Corinth for the monthly blood check and the day before I leave, I preach and baptize Elisa. It's good to be busy.
This morning I started reading Job, the account of one who enjoyed great wealth and a big family. One day he "had it all" and the next, he had nothing or so it seemed. I know the story; I know that it was the devil who afflicted Job; I know that one of Job's friend is the shortest man in the Bible--Bildad, the Shuhite (sorry, couldn't resist); but today the message I received as I read and meditated on the words, was that in the midst of the worst of things, God is still in control. I even know that, but today I needed to hear it again. That knowledge is priceless as I learn of actions being taken by the General Assembly of the PC(USA), as I hear news of violence and abuse and as we live and manage personal afflictions.
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret
I'm looking forward to a break myself! Several weeks ago Marty asked if I would go with her to a conference in San Francisco. For a brief second I was thinking how ridiculous that was and then, bingo, it hit me: San Francisco is about two hours from Sacramento. Not only would I be able to spend some good mother-daughter-grandson time with Marty and Christopher, I would be able to visit Fair Oaks friends! What a special treat!
My friend and former assistant, Mary, is taking up where we left off a year and a half ago when we moved. She is organizing my schedule and helping me plan my time in Sacramento. I can't wait to be there and to see folks--only wish it could be a longer visit and that I could see everybody. As I type that, I think of many who have passed in the months we've been gone: Tom, Mary Margaret, Shirley, Florence, Ileone, Donna and others. I will miss them, but, in my mind will see them in familiar places at the church and thank God for the gifts they have been to me.
Tom won't make this trip. It's really a mother-daughter getaway and I'm not sure he's up to it right now anyway. Tommy will spend the nights at our house with him and our helper will come to help him with breakfast and lunch. There is a part of me that is most reluctant to leave him, but I know I have to practice what I preach: the caregiver or care-partner (as I prefer) needs time away to regroup and refresh.
Our schedule is full in the days before the trip. We both have eye appointments next week and a visit with our new primary care physician. I have a morning of work scheduled at the church on the next step toward organizing an older adult ministry. One day we'll drive to Corinth for the monthly blood check and the day before I leave, I preach and baptize Elisa. It's good to be busy.
This morning I started reading Job, the account of one who enjoyed great wealth and a big family. One day he "had it all" and the next, he had nothing or so it seemed. I know the story; I know that it was the devil who afflicted Job; I know that one of Job's friend is the shortest man in the Bible--Bildad, the Shuhite (sorry, couldn't resist); but today the message I received as I read and meditated on the words, was that in the midst of the worst of things, God is still in control. I even know that, but today I needed to hear it again. That knowledge is priceless as I learn of actions being taken by the General Assembly of the PC(USA), as I hear news of violence and abuse and as we live and manage personal afflictions.
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Sometimes I am moved to climb on a soapbox to sound off about concerns--though what concerns me may not concern anyone else or they may be things that one squeaky voice cannot change.
Yesterday morning I read the Jackson, MS newspaper online, as I do most mornings, and my attention was drawn to two different articles, both concerning food and the economy. The first informed the readers of the decline in the catfish industry in the Mississippi Delta. Some years back when the government declared how much cotton could and could not be grown, many Delta planters converted some of their acreage to catfish ponds. I had never particularly had a taste for the old style river catfish, bottom feeders as they are, but pond raised catfish is quite tasty. Catfish began to show up on the classiest of menus and their production provided jobs for many who had lost out to more mechanized farming techniques. Now, both jobs and the supply of catfish is threatened because the farmers have to sell their product for less than what it costs to produce it--a fact I'm sure can be repeated in many areas of the country about many products.
Too many big businesses are making too much money at the expense of too many "little guys."
The second article was about the hard time shrimpers are having in the Gulf of Mexico. To me gulf shrimp are absolutely the best! And they are harder and harder to find!! They are nowhere to be found in Jackson, TN, but I did see some in a fish counter in Raleigh, NC. Here, I have to settle for farm raised shrimp from Ecuador. Do you realize how many of our food products are being imported, not because we can't or don't produce them, but because of lower costs? The article I read told of one shrimper who has a boat with a 2500 gallon tank which he fills with diesel at $4 a gallon, a whopping $10,000 worth of fuel--and we thought a trip to the pump with our vehicles was bad. That much fuel lasts twenty days. He gets shrimp, but the market isn't as good as it once was because of the lower cost of imported, mass produced shrimp. A big wholesaler on the coast suggested that the consumer go straight to the boats to buy (not exactly convenient for those who don't live closeby) and ask when get ready to order shrimp in a restaurant if they serve Gulf shrimp.
For you readers in California, the Gulf shrimp concern is not an issue, but it is representative of many of the food products grown in your state. When I lived there I used to shop and see fruit from South America, citrus from Florida or Texas, other products from Mexico and wonder, "Why would I want to buy something not grown locally? The flavor is usually better, it's fresher and it supports the local economy." Our West Tennessee Farmers' Market has a section that sells only products grown in the state and occasionally I ask where something was grown just to be sure. (I have to go to another section to find Mississippi sweet potatoes, simply the best.) I can buy strawberries in the grocery store from Watsonville, CA that look just like the ones I bought when I lived in California. They look the same, but they don't taste the same--picked too early so they could be packaged and shipped elsewhere.
So, where am I headed and what's the point of this rambling? What can we do? Eat more catfish and help stamp out poverty. Seriously, many folks on the Welfare rolls would rather not be there and would not be if they had jobs to support themselves and their families. Buy from local sources when you can. Let restaurants and other food providers know you prefer American grown food. We have better regulations on our foodstuffs and the wherewithal to trace tainted or contaminated food. Our consumption of American grown and made products is good for our economy and the provision of jobs to the unemployed goes a long way in making a better, stronger country.
Today I may sound more like a politician than a pastor. That's not my intention. To be pastoral is to care for others, have their best interests at heart. Jesus fed the hungry. He helped the fishermen. He taught us to live simply, relying on the abundance that comes from God and He warned against greed. Knowing that pushes me up on my soapbox.
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret
Yesterday morning I read the Jackson, MS newspaper online, as I do most mornings, and my attention was drawn to two different articles, both concerning food and the economy. The first informed the readers of the decline in the catfish industry in the Mississippi Delta. Some years back when the government declared how much cotton could and could not be grown, many Delta planters converted some of their acreage to catfish ponds. I had never particularly had a taste for the old style river catfish, bottom feeders as they are, but pond raised catfish is quite tasty. Catfish began to show up on the classiest of menus and their production provided jobs for many who had lost out to more mechanized farming techniques. Now, both jobs and the supply of catfish is threatened because the farmers have to sell their product for less than what it costs to produce it--a fact I'm sure can be repeated in many areas of the country about many products.
Too many big businesses are making too much money at the expense of too many "little guys."
The second article was about the hard time shrimpers are having in the Gulf of Mexico. To me gulf shrimp are absolutely the best! And they are harder and harder to find!! They are nowhere to be found in Jackson, TN, but I did see some in a fish counter in Raleigh, NC. Here, I have to settle for farm raised shrimp from Ecuador. Do you realize how many of our food products are being imported, not because we can't or don't produce them, but because of lower costs? The article I read told of one shrimper who has a boat with a 2500 gallon tank which he fills with diesel at $4 a gallon, a whopping $10,000 worth of fuel--and we thought a trip to the pump with our vehicles was bad. That much fuel lasts twenty days. He gets shrimp, but the market isn't as good as it once was because of the lower cost of imported, mass produced shrimp. A big wholesaler on the coast suggested that the consumer go straight to the boats to buy (not exactly convenient for those who don't live closeby) and ask when get ready to order shrimp in a restaurant if they serve Gulf shrimp.
For you readers in California, the Gulf shrimp concern is not an issue, but it is representative of many of the food products grown in your state. When I lived there I used to shop and see fruit from South America, citrus from Florida or Texas, other products from Mexico and wonder, "Why would I want to buy something not grown locally? The flavor is usually better, it's fresher and it supports the local economy." Our West Tennessee Farmers' Market has a section that sells only products grown in the state and occasionally I ask where something was grown just to be sure. (I have to go to another section to find Mississippi sweet potatoes, simply the best.) I can buy strawberries in the grocery store from Watsonville, CA that look just like the ones I bought when I lived in California. They look the same, but they don't taste the same--picked too early so they could be packaged and shipped elsewhere.
So, where am I headed and what's the point of this rambling? What can we do? Eat more catfish and help stamp out poverty. Seriously, many folks on the Welfare rolls would rather not be there and would not be if they had jobs to support themselves and their families. Buy from local sources when you can. Let restaurants and other food providers know you prefer American grown food. We have better regulations on our foodstuffs and the wherewithal to trace tainted or contaminated food. Our consumption of American grown and made products is good for our economy and the provision of jobs to the unemployed goes a long way in making a better, stronger country.
Today I may sound more like a politician than a pastor. That's not my intention. To be pastoral is to care for others, have their best interests at heart. Jesus fed the hungry. He helped the fishermen. He taught us to live simply, relying on the abundance that comes from God and He warned against greed. Knowing that pushes me up on my soapbox.
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Sometime in the wee hours of the morning, I remember saying out loud, "I love my bed." We got home yesterday afternoon after a wonderful week with Marty and family. The trip was long, there was construction that delayed us in the mountains of North Carolina, our car was loaded with the usual stuff and all the extra things from my shopping excursions while there and it had to be unloaded and brought inside the house. Whew! I was a bit more tired than I wanted to admit! But, as a furniture dealer in a neighboring town says in his TV commercials, "It's worth the drive!" We had a memorable time, to say the least.
Late yesterday afternoon we went to eat supper with Liz and the grandchildren. Tommy and Jacob, the oldest, are at a middle school church conference all week. Liz cooked vegetables from the Farmers' Market and I now feel as if summer is officially here even if it doesn't begin until Friday. Sarah looked taller and pretty as ever. Drew had a ballgame, so we didn't get to see him but a few minutes. Meredith talked non-stop in her own language, but fortunately it's okay when you don't understand her to just nod and she's content to continue. Elisa smiled when she saw us like she was glad to see us and shared the new noises she has learned since we've been away. I can't wait to get Christopher in the midst of his cousins and watch them play together!
Being a grandmother definitely falls in the category of God's abundant blessings!
Sunday I had the privilege of baptizing Christopher. I cannot tell you just how special it is to hold your grandchild, a child of the covenant, and administer that sacrament. (I have baptized Drew, Meredith, Christopher and look forward to baptizing Elisa in a few weeks.) In the days prior to the baptism I was thinking, as I always do, about why we baptize infants, the significance of it and how to share those thoughts with the congregation. Not everyone understands the whys and whats of infant baptism and being an educator at heart, I sieze the teachable moment. Let me tell you how I understand whys and whats:
1. Jesus told His followers to go into the world, make disciples and baptize;
2. Scripture tells us that baptism in the early church was for entire families, not just believers and it was tied to God's covenant promise to Abraham.
3. Ours is a covenant theology, a faith that has its roots in the sovereignty of God and God's faithful promises to His people.
4. Children of believers are a part of the covenant promise God made to Abraham: "I will be your God; you will be my people." Infant baptism is the outward sign and seal of this covenant promise.
5. Baptism is not about what the individual does or does not do. It is about God and what God does. Even in believer's baptism, it is God who has initiated the salvation. God is the one who saves, who calls. God acts. We respond because of the irresistable pull of the Holy Spirit.
6. The child's parents, extended family and church family promise to teach the child who God is and the essentials of the Christian faith so that the child can know and understand a saving knowledge of Jesus Christ and make his/her own profession of faith and discipleship.
Often when I look at our grandchildren, especially the ones I've been privileged to baptize, I ponder #6 above. How am I carrying out the promise I have made? Will they remember me as a child of God? And last week, before Christopher's baptism, I centered on God's promise. #4 above is life itself! I realized that I can summarize my life within God's promise. I have trusted God's promise of salvation, I rely on God's faithfulness, I bask in the blessings of God's grace and I am sustained day by day by God's mercy and compassion. I am a child of the promise. To teach our children what that means is life's greatest responsibility and opportunity.
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret
Late yesterday afternoon we went to eat supper with Liz and the grandchildren. Tommy and Jacob, the oldest, are at a middle school church conference all week. Liz cooked vegetables from the Farmers' Market and I now feel as if summer is officially here even if it doesn't begin until Friday. Sarah looked taller and pretty as ever. Drew had a ballgame, so we didn't get to see him but a few minutes. Meredith talked non-stop in her own language, but fortunately it's okay when you don't understand her to just nod and she's content to continue. Elisa smiled when she saw us like she was glad to see us and shared the new noises she has learned since we've been away. I can't wait to get Christopher in the midst of his cousins and watch them play together!
Being a grandmother definitely falls in the category of God's abundant blessings!
Sunday I had the privilege of baptizing Christopher. I cannot tell you just how special it is to hold your grandchild, a child of the covenant, and administer that sacrament. (I have baptized Drew, Meredith, Christopher and look forward to baptizing Elisa in a few weeks.) In the days prior to the baptism I was thinking, as I always do, about why we baptize infants, the significance of it and how to share those thoughts with the congregation. Not everyone understands the whys and whats of infant baptism and being an educator at heart, I sieze the teachable moment. Let me tell you how I understand whys and whats:
1. Jesus told His followers to go into the world, make disciples and baptize;
2. Scripture tells us that baptism in the early church was for entire families, not just believers and it was tied to God's covenant promise to Abraham.
3. Ours is a covenant theology, a faith that has its roots in the sovereignty of God and God's faithful promises to His people.
4. Children of believers are a part of the covenant promise God made to Abraham: "I will be your God; you will be my people." Infant baptism is the outward sign and seal of this covenant promise.
5. Baptism is not about what the individual does or does not do. It is about God and what God does. Even in believer's baptism, it is God who has initiated the salvation. God is the one who saves, who calls. God acts. We respond because of the irresistable pull of the Holy Spirit.
6. The child's parents, extended family and church family promise to teach the child who God is and the essentials of the Christian faith so that the child can know and understand a saving knowledge of Jesus Christ and make his/her own profession of faith and discipleship.
Often when I look at our grandchildren, especially the ones I've been privileged to baptize, I ponder #6 above. How am I carrying out the promise I have made? Will they remember me as a child of God? And last week, before Christopher's baptism, I centered on God's promise. #4 above is life itself! I realized that I can summarize my life within God's promise. I have trusted God's promise of salvation, I rely on God's faithfulness, I bask in the blessings of God's grace and I am sustained day by day by God's mercy and compassion. I am a child of the promise. To teach our children what that means is life's greatest responsibility and opportunity.
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret
Friday, June 13, 2008
We're in Raleigh--too busy to post--too laid back to move. That's contradictory, but that's how it is! The busy-ness is in playing with Christopher and, of course, he takes priority. The being laid back is in not really having anything we absolutely have to do. The trip over was pretty easy and not too tiring. I did my usual "getting lost around Raleigh" bit and had to call and say, "I know where I am, but how do I get to you?" You'd think after living in Sacramento I'd be ready for the big city, but apparently I'm not. I'm a small town gal at heart!
But, there are some things that are scarce in small towns and I usually arrive here with a list. This time I had an item from Tommy--lobster base--not something I'd buy, but whatever he cooks with it, I'll eat. (It's on my shopping list for today.) One other thing listed for today is a box of jumbo pasta shells--or maybe several boxes. It's rather tedious to stuff small ones and I love shrimp stuffed shells and another dish I make regularlly when I can find jumbo shells. Raleigh, actually Cary, has a Trader Joe's, a California tradition to be sure. We made that trip yesterday and I stocked up on the trail mix Tom loves, Joe's O's, my favorite granola and other good stuff.
I saved the best to last--finding quilted containers for stemware at a fraction of the original cost. After forty plus years of marriage and storing all the German crystal Tom bought when he was stationed in Munich in their original boxes, I decided to bite the bullet and store it in something that would keep it clean and ready to use at a moment's notice. Until now I'd have to find the right box, unwrap the crystal, wash and dry it, use it, wash and dry it, rewrap and put it back in the box--not exactly conducive to using it much. At check out, watching the register I noticed the clerk rang up $23 for what I thought was one container. When I questioned her, calling her attention to the $14.95 price tag, she said, "No, this is a special price. You're getting six containers for $23." Folks, that's a bargain in any size town!! I can use the savings to help fill the gas tank for the trip home.
Indulge me with one more shopping story. Last week Tom and I went to Germantown (east Memphis community) for me to attend a meeting. For me, going to Germantown involves a trip to the Penzey Spice store and while there I casually asked if they knew where I could buy sausage casings. Tommy makes sausage and thus far, he's had to make it into patties for lack of the availability of casings. The saleslady called a neighborhood Italian deli, put me on the phone and we ended up at the deli for lunch. The owner was really nice, interested in why I wanted the casings and graciously offered to give me what I wanted. In return, I'm to take him some of Tommy's andouille the next time I go to Germantown. The funny part was the casings were put into a sandwich size plastic bag, salted and handed to me, free of charge, with my promise to return with Tommy's sausage. I had to stop at a service station, purchase a cooler and a bag of ice to keep them fresh for the drive back to Jackson. Free casings traveled home in a $9 cooler with ice. The man and his deli made my day! I can't wait to go back.
I heard on the news that an area close to Sacramento is experiencing wild fires and the temperature for today is to reach 100. Know that you are in my prayers! And always in my heart!!!
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret
But, there are some things that are scarce in small towns and I usually arrive here with a list. This time I had an item from Tommy--lobster base--not something I'd buy, but whatever he cooks with it, I'll eat. (It's on my shopping list for today.) One other thing listed for today is a box of jumbo pasta shells--or maybe several boxes. It's rather tedious to stuff small ones and I love shrimp stuffed shells and another dish I make regularlly when I can find jumbo shells. Raleigh, actually Cary, has a Trader Joe's, a California tradition to be sure. We made that trip yesterday and I stocked up on the trail mix Tom loves, Joe's O's, my favorite granola and other good stuff.
I saved the best to last--finding quilted containers for stemware at a fraction of the original cost. After forty plus years of marriage and storing all the German crystal Tom bought when he was stationed in Munich in their original boxes, I decided to bite the bullet and store it in something that would keep it clean and ready to use at a moment's notice. Until now I'd have to find the right box, unwrap the crystal, wash and dry it, use it, wash and dry it, rewrap and put it back in the box--not exactly conducive to using it much. At check out, watching the register I noticed the clerk rang up $23 for what I thought was one container. When I questioned her, calling her attention to the $14.95 price tag, she said, "No, this is a special price. You're getting six containers for $23." Folks, that's a bargain in any size town!! I can use the savings to help fill the gas tank for the trip home.
Indulge me with one more shopping story. Last week Tom and I went to Germantown (east Memphis community) for me to attend a meeting. For me, going to Germantown involves a trip to the Penzey Spice store and while there I casually asked if they knew where I could buy sausage casings. Tommy makes sausage and thus far, he's had to make it into patties for lack of the availability of casings. The saleslady called a neighborhood Italian deli, put me on the phone and we ended up at the deli for lunch. The owner was really nice, interested in why I wanted the casings and graciously offered to give me what I wanted. In return, I'm to take him some of Tommy's andouille the next time I go to Germantown. The funny part was the casings were put into a sandwich size plastic bag, salted and handed to me, free of charge, with my promise to return with Tommy's sausage. I had to stop at a service station, purchase a cooler and a bag of ice to keep them fresh for the drive back to Jackson. Free casings traveled home in a $9 cooler with ice. The man and his deli made my day! I can't wait to go back.
I heard on the news that an area close to Sacramento is experiencing wild fires and the temperature for today is to reach 100. Know that you are in my prayers! And always in my heart!!!
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret
Tuesday, June 03, 2008
Realities fall into lots of categories; some are welcome; some are not; some bring untold joy; some bring tears and disappointment. Some realities are interesting and sort of comical. Take, for instance, the writing and reading of blogs. I took over this blog from my children who were doing a great job of keeping friends and family informed of some rather serious health problems we were having. It has been a way that I can stay in touch with lots of special people who care about us and I share thoughts that God lays on my heart. The reality that there are those who care is why I write, but the comical and disappointing reality is anyone with access to the internet can read what I write and some who could care less about us read our words for ulterior motives. It makes me feel like I felt at one point in my life when we caught a peeping Tom at our window.
The stomach bug has been a reality in Tommy and Liz's house lately and she is the latest victim. Fortunately, it may prove to be a 24 hr. bug for her, but today she felt really bad. She called us about 7:30 a.m. to see if we could keep Elisa. Silly question! Of course, we could and would. We knew we had missed her since school has been out, but were struck with the reality today of just how much! Someone sent an e-mail about mothers not long ago that included a statement that said something like: "Anyone who asks a mother if she can love the fifth child as much as she loved the first never had five children." It reminded me of Liz and how she has this unending love that she pours our on their children. As a grandmother I know that as the grandchildren keep coming, God keeps giving us additional capacity to love each one. That's a welcome reality.
An unwelcome and disappointing reality came today with the report of the blood work I had done yesterday. The CA125 is inching up again. It's only up a point since last month, but the three previous ones each showed fractional increases. Besides the reality being unwelcome and disappointing, there is something else. I have become a student of ovarian cancer and I know the signs, what they mean and the usual prognosis. Those things are too real! "But God," as the apostle Paul would say, is the reality in my life. I know He is a God of miracles, a God of mercy, grace and compassion. The realities of the blessings in our marriage and our lives as followers of Jesus are too numerous to name.
I have been reading The Last Lecture, the book written by Randy Pausch, Carnegie-Mellon professor given months to live with pancreatic cancer. It is not a Christian testimony, but a wonderful read for anyone living with chronic illness. He writes (talking to his wife when they are in Houston for a follow-up appointment): Whatever news we get about the scans, I'm not going to die when I hear it. I won't die the next day, or the day after that. So today, right now, well this is a wonderful day. And I want you to know how much I'm enjoying it.
Today is reality. It is what we have. We ask God for today's needs and God not only provides, but provides abundantly. This is the greatest reality of my life--it is welcome and it brings joy beyond measure.
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret
The stomach bug has been a reality in Tommy and Liz's house lately and she is the latest victim. Fortunately, it may prove to be a 24 hr. bug for her, but today she felt really bad. She called us about 7:30 a.m. to see if we could keep Elisa. Silly question! Of course, we could and would. We knew we had missed her since school has been out, but were struck with the reality today of just how much! Someone sent an e-mail about mothers not long ago that included a statement that said something like: "Anyone who asks a mother if she can love the fifth child as much as she loved the first never had five children." It reminded me of Liz and how she has this unending love that she pours our on their children. As a grandmother I know that as the grandchildren keep coming, God keeps giving us additional capacity to love each one. That's a welcome reality.
An unwelcome and disappointing reality came today with the report of the blood work I had done yesterday. The CA125 is inching up again. It's only up a point since last month, but the three previous ones each showed fractional increases. Besides the reality being unwelcome and disappointing, there is something else. I have become a student of ovarian cancer and I know the signs, what they mean and the usual prognosis. Those things are too real! "But God," as the apostle Paul would say, is the reality in my life. I know He is a God of miracles, a God of mercy, grace and compassion. The realities of the blessings in our marriage and our lives as followers of Jesus are too numerous to name.
I have been reading The Last Lecture, the book written by Randy Pausch, Carnegie-Mellon professor given months to live with pancreatic cancer. It is not a Christian testimony, but a wonderful read for anyone living with chronic illness. He writes (talking to his wife when they are in Houston for a follow-up appointment): Whatever news we get about the scans, I'm not going to die when I hear it. I won't die the next day, or the day after that. So today, right now, well this is a wonderful day. And I want you to know how much I'm enjoying it.
Today is reality. It is what we have. We ask God for today's needs and God not only provides, but provides abundantly. This is the greatest reality of my life--it is welcome and it brings joy beyond measure.
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret
Monday, May 26, 2008
Yesterday I heard what falls into the category of "skyscraper sermons." That's a sermon that contains story after story. Often there is not much more to the sermon than stories--lots of illustrations, not much content. The text was Matthew 6:25-34, part of the Sermon on the Mount and Jesus is exhorting his listeners not to worry and He calls their attention to the birds and how they are "arrayed" and the flowers of the field and their beauty. My mind went to the beautiful yellow flowers that came up in a bed planted by previous owners of our house and to the birds that frequent our back porch to eat the seed we put out for them. Both remind me of our Creator and His provisions, not only for them, but for us as well.
The sermon was entitled, "Don't Worry, Be Happy," the title of a song several years ago and not a title I would have chosen. Neither would I have chosen the direction the sermon took. In fact, I came away wishing the preacher had dug a little deeper. I wished he had talked about the difference in being happy and being joyful. I wanted him to talk about happiness being a product of external things and joy being a result of trusting God. I am not happy these days with the knowledge that Tom has Parkinson's or that I have cancer. But, I do have joy because I trust God for His provision and try to obey another teaching of Jesus: "Fear not." Apparently Tommy's thoughts were paralleling mine because he wrote me a couple of notes during the sermon and we talked afterwards. I said to him: "Here's the thing. We're here to worship God and the sermon isn't always on target. Mine certainly aren't. But, God's timing is perfect and I needed to be directed to that Scripture today."
Lately I've been consumed with thoughts of things I need to do to get all of our affairs in order--or all the things I think I need to do. Last week I read a novel by a favorite author and it was about a woman whose cancer returned with a venegance and she was dead within two days of finding out. It was a sobering read. Sometimes I forget the realities of the faithfulness of God and the sufficiency of God's grace.
Even a bad sermon can be used to remind us of God's truths. I need to be less critical and more open to learning from God's word.
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret
The sermon was entitled, "Don't Worry, Be Happy," the title of a song several years ago and not a title I would have chosen. Neither would I have chosen the direction the sermon took. In fact, I came away wishing the preacher had dug a little deeper. I wished he had talked about the difference in being happy and being joyful. I wanted him to talk about happiness being a product of external things and joy being a result of trusting God. I am not happy these days with the knowledge that Tom has Parkinson's or that I have cancer. But, I do have joy because I trust God for His provision and try to obey another teaching of Jesus: "Fear not." Apparently Tommy's thoughts were paralleling mine because he wrote me a couple of notes during the sermon and we talked afterwards. I said to him: "Here's the thing. We're here to worship God and the sermon isn't always on target. Mine certainly aren't. But, God's timing is perfect and I needed to be directed to that Scripture today."
Lately I've been consumed with thoughts of things I need to do to get all of our affairs in order--or all the things I think I need to do. Last week I read a novel by a favorite author and it was about a woman whose cancer returned with a venegance and she was dead within two days of finding out. It was a sobering read. Sometimes I forget the realities of the faithfulness of God and the sufficiency of God's grace.
Even a bad sermon can be used to remind us of God's truths. I need to be less critical and more open to learning from God's word.
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret
Monday, May 19, 2008
My computer has been idle for the last several days. We've been very busy and one entire day last week I had trouble with my wireless connection. Wouldn't you know it was the day I had planned to be online?
The end of the school year has affected this retired couple's activities though it's been years since we've had children in school. Now we get to follow what goes on with the grandchildren. Last Tuesday we attended an honors program for Jacob's school and swelled with pride when he received academic awards for one of the best grade averages in his homeroom and for making all A's this year. Tomorrow morning Drew graduates from kindergarten but we'll have to miss that because of a doctor's appointment.
Tommy and his family were in south Mississippi over the weekend to participate in the wedding of friends who had been in youth groups with whom he had worked--one in McComb and another in Laurel. We haven't gotten the full report yet, but the initial report is they had a great time seeing old friends.
We had friends from Iowa come for a short visit. They are both teachers now and were able to get away at the end of their school year and before the summer session begins. We met the Marlins when we lived in California and they moved from there to Iowa about six months after we came to Tennessee. It was fun seeing them, catching up on each other's news and trying to expose them to good ole' Southern hospitality and cooking. I won't have to eat again for days!
This week we look forward to celebrating both Tommy's birthday and Sarah's. His was last Friday and hers is this Saturday. Birthdays always make me wonder where all the years have gone and strive to be more intentional about savoring every day with all of our family. Someone once gave the advice not to put off til tomorrow what can be done today. When I see our grown children and watch their children growing up so quickly, I can only say "Amen and Amen."
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret
The end of the school year has affected this retired couple's activities though it's been years since we've had children in school. Now we get to follow what goes on with the grandchildren. Last Tuesday we attended an honors program for Jacob's school and swelled with pride when he received academic awards for one of the best grade averages in his homeroom and for making all A's this year. Tomorrow morning Drew graduates from kindergarten but we'll have to miss that because of a doctor's appointment.
Tommy and his family were in south Mississippi over the weekend to participate in the wedding of friends who had been in youth groups with whom he had worked--one in McComb and another in Laurel. We haven't gotten the full report yet, but the initial report is they had a great time seeing old friends.
We had friends from Iowa come for a short visit. They are both teachers now and were able to get away at the end of their school year and before the summer session begins. We met the Marlins when we lived in California and they moved from there to Iowa about six months after we came to Tennessee. It was fun seeing them, catching up on each other's news and trying to expose them to good ole' Southern hospitality and cooking. I won't have to eat again for days!
This week we look forward to celebrating both Tommy's birthday and Sarah's. His was last Friday and hers is this Saturday. Birthdays always make me wonder where all the years have gone and strive to be more intentional about savoring every day with all of our family. Someone once gave the advice not to put off til tomorrow what can be done today. When I see our grown children and watch their children growing up so quickly, I can only say "Amen and Amen."
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret
Thursday, May 08, 2008
Last week the oncologist described my cancer as "smoldering." A quick look at the chairside dictionary defines smolder as 1) "burn with little smoke and no flame" or 2) "exist in latent or suppressed state." Either definition works with chronic cancer. It's there but not so apparent as to be symptomatic; it's hopefully dormant; and a "suppressed state" might indicate remission. I remember smoldering embers in a fireplace that might flare up with little or no provocation. I see red hot coals in the grill, smoldering and perfect for cooking. The definitions seem to be a bit more hopeful than memories of coals in the fireplace or the grill.
After each visit with the doctor there is a time for processing, both what has been said and what has not. All of us want guarantees: guarantees of cure; guarantees of long life; of happy times. You would think that by now I would have learned that doctors have no guarantees to give. Some can be rather blunt and give you the worse case scenario; others can be tight lipped, leaving you to draw your own conclusions. I've had both kinds and both provoke thoughts that smolder and flare when I should be sleeping.
Early in the week I talked with a friend and she told me of a mutual friend who is busy working on his "bucket list." He has been given just months to live and is trying to get certain things accomplished before he kicks the bucket. I suspect his list is full of things to do for others, places to go and people to see. It's time for me to take the smoldering thoughts and make my own "bucket list."
It's time for me to quit talking about identifying family "treasures" and get it done. Writing my story for my children and grandchildren needs to come sooner rather than later. Years ago when I had my first experience with cancer, a special friend told me not to worry about things. If something happened to me, she would hurry over to our house and straighten my closets. That's a real friend. While I suspect the offer still holds, my clutter has gotten worse and shouldn't be offered to my worst enemy, let alone a special friend. I must attack the closets and the boxes I've put aside to explore some time in the future. Most importantly, I need to get things in place for Tom's care.
Other smoldering thoughts concern a project the parish associate at our church asked me to consider: writing devotional booklets for Advent and Lent. So, in the last week or so, I've been reading the lectionary scriptures for Advent. They reveal the condition of Israel, their need and the hope the promise of the Messiah brought. The Israelites anticipated the first coming of Christ; we anticipate His second coming. In the meantime we celebrate the arrival of the Prince of Peace, Immanuel and have peace in our lives because God is truly with us. Because of God's Promise and His promises we have guarantees.
It's interesting how smoldering thoughts, like smoldering coals merge together.
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret
After each visit with the doctor there is a time for processing, both what has been said and what has not. All of us want guarantees: guarantees of cure; guarantees of long life; of happy times. You would think that by now I would have learned that doctors have no guarantees to give. Some can be rather blunt and give you the worse case scenario; others can be tight lipped, leaving you to draw your own conclusions. I've had both kinds and both provoke thoughts that smolder and flare when I should be sleeping.
Early in the week I talked with a friend and she told me of a mutual friend who is busy working on his "bucket list." He has been given just months to live and is trying to get certain things accomplished before he kicks the bucket. I suspect his list is full of things to do for others, places to go and people to see. It's time for me to take the smoldering thoughts and make my own "bucket list."
It's time for me to quit talking about identifying family "treasures" and get it done. Writing my story for my children and grandchildren needs to come sooner rather than later. Years ago when I had my first experience with cancer, a special friend told me not to worry about things. If something happened to me, she would hurry over to our house and straighten my closets. That's a real friend. While I suspect the offer still holds, my clutter has gotten worse and shouldn't be offered to my worst enemy, let alone a special friend. I must attack the closets and the boxes I've put aside to explore some time in the future. Most importantly, I need to get things in place for Tom's care.
Other smoldering thoughts concern a project the parish associate at our church asked me to consider: writing devotional booklets for Advent and Lent. So, in the last week or so, I've been reading the lectionary scriptures for Advent. They reveal the condition of Israel, their need and the hope the promise of the Messiah brought. The Israelites anticipated the first coming of Christ; we anticipate His second coming. In the meantime we celebrate the arrival of the Prince of Peace, Immanuel and have peace in our lives because God is truly with us. Because of God's Promise and His promises we have guarantees.
It's interesting how smoldering thoughts, like smoldering coals merge together.
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret
Friday, May 02, 2008
Today has been a stormy day! In fact, the storms just keep coming. The weather map on TV looks more like a multi colored quilt or Joseph's coat than it does a map. There have been numerous watches and warnings, both in our area and in the part of Mississippi where we went for my doctor's appointment today. Fortunately, we got home and in the house before the worst of it here. We'll have to spend some time in the next few days cleaning up storm debris in our back yard. Many in eastern Arkansas have nothing left but debris. We are grateful to be safe.
We hear a lot about the "storms of life." Periods of life are compared to storms--times of sunshine and joy; strong winds of crisis that threaten to destroy us or those we love; calms winds that bring peace. I've always loved to see the vibrant green of the grass and leaves following storms or heavy rains. I like what follows the storm, not the experience itself. I'm sitting here now with the constant chatter of the weather people and the rain hitting on the window next to my chair. Just when we think we're out of one warning or watch, here comes another.
Think about how that parallels life. Different areas of the world, different climates produce different types of storms. Before we lived in California we had a hard time understanding why anyone would live in an earthquake prone area. Friends in California couldn't understand why we would live in "tornado alley." Something you consider a storm in your life isn't necessarily like the storms in our life. Some have to deal with broken relationships, drugs or other addictions, estranged family members; we deal with disease. A diagnosis might bring a strong wind of crisis; successful treatment mimics the calm winds of peace, but sunshine and joy can be present in the midst of the crisis and the peace.
The scans I had on Wednesday still show the presence of disease, but it is not progressing--just "smoldering," as the doctor put it. Medically, there are two things in my favor: the CA125 is a good indicator of disease in my case; and my cancer is sensitive to a particular chemo drug. We were praying for complete remission, but are not discouraged with what we heard. I will always have hope because I know an amazing God. Tomorrow the yard will be alive with that vibrant green. I will feel safe and confident knowing the storm has past. That's the way of the cancer. Tonight I think about all the possibilities, all the "what ifs," wonder a bit about the future of our family, but when morning comes I'll see the vibrant green of life and be grateful that I am safe.
The storm of Parkinson's is another matter. A Memphis TV station carried news of the tornadoes that ripped through eastern Arkansas. One family lived in a large doublewide with several bedrooms and three baths. After the storm passed, nothing was left. The reporter emphasized that no bathroom fixtures could be found. They, along with everything else, were completely blown away. Parkinson's does that to the people it attacks, maybe not as quickly as a tornado, but every bit as devastating.
When Tom was in Vietnam I began every morning with the words of Lamentations 3:22-23. "It is of the Lord's mercies that we are not consumed. They are new every morning. Great is His faithfulness." Good words to remember in the storms that surround and threaten to undo us!
We hear a lot about the "storms of life." Periods of life are compared to storms--times of sunshine and joy; strong winds of crisis that threaten to destroy us or those we love; calms winds that bring peace. I've always loved to see the vibrant green of the grass and leaves following storms or heavy rains. I like what follows the storm, not the experience itself. I'm sitting here now with the constant chatter of the weather people and the rain hitting on the window next to my chair. Just when we think we're out of one warning or watch, here comes another.
Think about how that parallels life. Different areas of the world, different climates produce different types of storms. Before we lived in California we had a hard time understanding why anyone would live in an earthquake prone area. Friends in California couldn't understand why we would live in "tornado alley." Something you consider a storm in your life isn't necessarily like the storms in our life. Some have to deal with broken relationships, drugs or other addictions, estranged family members; we deal with disease. A diagnosis might bring a strong wind of crisis; successful treatment mimics the calm winds of peace, but sunshine and joy can be present in the midst of the crisis and the peace.
The scans I had on Wednesday still show the presence of disease, but it is not progressing--just "smoldering," as the doctor put it. Medically, there are two things in my favor: the CA125 is a good indicator of disease in my case; and my cancer is sensitive to a particular chemo drug. We were praying for complete remission, but are not discouraged with what we heard. I will always have hope because I know an amazing God. Tomorrow the yard will be alive with that vibrant green. I will feel safe and confident knowing the storm has past. That's the way of the cancer. Tonight I think about all the possibilities, all the "what ifs," wonder a bit about the future of our family, but when morning comes I'll see the vibrant green of life and be grateful that I am safe.
The storm of Parkinson's is another matter. A Memphis TV station carried news of the tornadoes that ripped through eastern Arkansas. One family lived in a large doublewide with several bedrooms and three baths. After the storm passed, nothing was left. The reporter emphasized that no bathroom fixtures could be found. They, along with everything else, were completely blown away. Parkinson's does that to the people it attacks, maybe not as quickly as a tornado, but every bit as devastating.
When Tom was in Vietnam I began every morning with the words of Lamentations 3:22-23. "It is of the Lord's mercies that we are not consumed. They are new every morning. Great is His faithfulness." Good words to remember in the storms that surround and threaten to undo us!
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