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

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

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

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

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

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

Enjoy your holiday tomorrow and eat more barbeque!

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

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

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

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

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

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

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

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

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

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

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

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

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

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

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

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

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

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

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

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

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

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

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

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

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

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

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

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

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

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

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

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

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

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

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

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

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

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

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

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

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

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

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

Blessings,

Pastor Margaret

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

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

Have a glorious Easter.
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

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

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

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

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

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

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

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

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

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

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

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

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

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

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

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

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

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

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

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

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

Blessings,

Pastor Margaret

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

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

Blessings,

Pastor Margaret

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

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

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

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

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

Blessings,

Pastor Margaret

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

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

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

Blessings,

Pastor Margaret

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

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

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

Our God is great and greatly to be praised!

Blessings,

Pastor Margaret

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

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

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

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

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

Blessings,

Pastor Margaret

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

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

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

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret