Some say that after fifty, it's patch, patch, patch. I don't know what the saying is about after sixty. I should. It's been a while since we've seen fifty. At any rate, we've done a lot of patching this week. A crown came off one of Tom's teeth last week which meant locating a dentist and making an appointment. It was time for our annual eye exams so we did those on Monday. Tuesday I went to the cancer clinic to have blood drawn so a report would be ready for my visit this coming Monday and Thursday I went to the long awaited appointement with the orthopedist.

Our eyes have the normal age related changes: cataracts not yet ripe, vision that's not what it used to be. Mine was enough changed that a change in lens was warranted. I had them cut and fitted this moring. It's amazing how much better I can see the crossword puzzle and hopefully, the Bible on the pulpit. Tom's crown was reseated and he didn't have to go through having a new one fit and seated, nor the expense. My cast was cut off yesterday and the report is that my ankle is healing, but has a long way to go. Now I have a tacky little shoe on the left foot and a boot on the right ankle. The shoe can change to a tennis shoe in two weeks, but the boot stays for another four. The doctor thinks I move pretty well to have bones broken in both legs. Why not? You know that I love a challenge. For now the patching is complete; I'll let you know how Monday goes with the oncologist.

My teaching assignments are back on track for this Sunday and next. The teacher of the class is a wonderful expositional teacher, working verse by verse through books of the Bible. For my two Sundays I've elected to teach on Bible heroes and plan to begin with Moses. I've been hearing about Bible heroes since I was a child learning at my mother's knee and in Sunday school. Then, I put them in a class with all the other super heroes I knew but as I've aged and studied those same "heroes" I've come to realize that they were ordinary people just like you and me. The one common thread among "heroes" like Abraham, Joseph, Moses, Joshua, Daniel, David etc. was their trust and reliance on God. It was God who enabled them to persevere, to stand firm, to speak for God. They could have never done it on their own. I understand Biblical heroes better now and I understand that the same God who enabled them enables me today. That understanding brings another saying to mind: God doesn't call the equipped to do his work; he equips the called. In Bible days God didn't find heroes to do his work; he used ordinary people and we call them "heroic."

Our friend, Susan, needs your prayers. She is in her mid-thirties, is married with two little boys under three years of age and has been diagnosed with breast cancer. Chemotherapy begins next week. If you believe that God works through the prayers of his people, as I do, please pray, believing that our gracious God will heal Susan.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

If I summoned the courage to get on a ride at the fair or at a carnival it would probably be the Pirate Ship. It swings back and forth little by little until people seated at both ends of the ship are way up in the air looking down. It looks pretty harmless compared to some of the other rides up and down the midway. I've always been the designated jacket or purse holder and I watch while everyone else is swinging back and forth, higher and higher. As I think about it, I realize my life is much like that Pirate Ship. It swings back and forth, higher and higher, never staying in one place long enough to stabilize. I'm up in the air on one side looking down, when suddenly, I'm swinging to the other side only to look down at another set of circumstances. Looking down, the view can be discouraging.

Here it is the end of June and summer has been on hold. Just when life seemed to be settling into a normal routine, I fell. I had prayed for God to use me, to give me teaching and preaching opportunities and they had begun to come. Three teaching commitments have had to be canceled. There I am up in the boat watching as summer keeps going and I'm just looking. Tom's condition seemed to be stabilizing so we could establish some sort of "normal" pattern. Then the boat swings the other way and our bearings need to be re-established. Still I'd rather be on the Pirate Ship than the Merry-Go-Round going nowhere or the Bumper Cars getting knocked silly. On the Pirate Ship I have a panoramic view; I can see more than I can possibly see on the ground; I can look into the heavens. Looking upward and outward makes the ride worthwhile.

Our help right now is coming five days a week and it is wonderful. Having just made it through two days without our caregiver friends makes me realize just how much we needed it. Tom has not had a good couple of days. Even with the alarm on his watch set for medicine times and my reminding him when it signals, he has forgotten to take some regular doses. He pays for it later. That has happened twice this weekend. Such occurences only serve as reminders that he absolutely needs the medication and he absolutely needs to take it on time. His memory continues to slip and it is more and more difficult for him to follow simple instructions. The two ladies we have, Brenda and Regina, are good with him, they don't hover and he responds well to their help.

Our family is growing. Many of you already know that Tommy and Liz are expecting a little girl in November and we are pleased to tell you that all is well. This makes five--just right for a coed basketball team.

Marty and Kevin are expecting a baby the end of January and she, too, is doing well. I have been so excited and anxious to shout the news from the rooftops, but wanted to respect her desire to not tell yet. Tom and I pray at every meal for both Marty and Liz and covet your prayers as well.

I always wanted a house full of children, but only had two. Grandchildren are making my wish come true.

Until next time - - -

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

The past few days have felt like Christmas. You know that special inner glow you get when the house is full of smells of fresh cedar, cinnamony candles and cookies baking in the oven. Everybody seems happy about everything. You eagerly await the arrival of family members and when all are together you are so glad to be together that you either all talk at once or forget what it was you wanted to say. It doesn't matter. You're together and that's what counts. Revisiting those days in your mind extends the pleasure and is better than any vitamin.



Last Saturday our dear friends, Mike & Nikki, visited us from California. We had anticipated their visit like children waiting for Christmas morning. Their lives, individually and as a couple, exemplify servanthood. They poured their lives into ours last fall. As Jesus said, "Greater love has no man than he lay down his life for a friend." He had Mike & Nikki in mind. It was so good to see them. Today I remember much of what we talked about, what we did, how we laughed together, but mainly I remember just being together. That's one of the real marks of friendship--when being together is the most important thing. The inner glow their visit brought about will last a long time.



This week we have help at our house. I learned of a lady who arranges caregiving services through a teacher friend of Elizabeth. We interviewed one another last week about both our current and possible future needs. For now we have two ladies who alternate coming for a few hours five days a week. Both Tom and I are very pleased with them. They all come from an evangelical African American church in town and see their work as Christian service. God has sent us two angels.



My legs are getting better and stronger and I have to remind myself to keep the weight off the broken ankle. Eight more days til the cast is removed! Yes, we are definitely counting the days.



As we count the days we also count the blessings of each day: hearing from old friends, making new ones, being with family, observing God's presence and provision. The Christmas smells won't be in the air for another few months, but the inner Christmas glow is constant nonetheless.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

June 14 has always been a day to celebrate in our family. For us it began June 14, 1939 when Tom's parents married. Dad used to look around the family seated at the dinner table and, with a proud smile, say: "Just think, I started all this." Mom and Dad are both gone now, but we always thank God, especially on their anniversary, for their lives, their marriage and the influence they had on all who knew them. Their love for each other and for their family has been an inspiration to us all.

In 1996 on June 14 our first grandchild was born. What a typical family day that was! Tom, Marty and I drove to south Mississippi to be with Tommy and Elizabeth for Jacob's birth. Liz's mom was there, most of Tommy's youth group and various friends. That was the last anniversary Mom and Dad celebrated together. She died right before Christmas from complications with Alztheimer's. Our birthday celebration yesterday looked a lot different from that first one eleven years ago. Then, everything stopped and focused on the birth. Yesterday, everything continued and the celebration came late, after all the normal things of a summer day were done. Tom might have described the day as resembling a Chinese fire drill--his terminology of the confusion of everybody going in different directions at the same time. Tommy and Liz had to shop. Each took a different child with them to "help." All the gifts ended up at our house for me to wrap. Drew had a T-ball game at 6:30 so Liz, Sarah, Tom and Drew went there. Tommy, Jacob and Meredith came here to cook on our grill. Jacob kept Meredith entertained by pushing her up and down the hall in my wheel chair. I thought he was being extraordinarily patitent. Finally, about 8:30 we were ready to assemble at Tommy's for Jacob's request of smoked salmon and baked potato. Jake's other grandparents could not be present, but were there in spirit; Marty couldn't be here, but called to talk just to Jake; new friends have been added to the crowd and the youth group of 1996 has been changed to the one of 2007 and some were present. Maybe the biggest change of all are the three younger siblings who have joined the family and who have almost as much fun as the birthday boy himself. This morning I get tired just thinking about yesterday, but I'm smiling all the while, thanking God for Jacob and for allowing us to be here to be a part of his life.

Just as June 14 has been a day of beginnings, we will also remember it as a day of closure. At Arlington Memorial Cemetery yesterday morning, the ashes of a dear aunt were laid to rest beside her husband (my mother's brother). Marty and her husband Kevin drove up from Raleigh both to represent our family and also because of the close relationship Marty enjoyed with them when she was a student in Winston Salem. They were her family away from home--very special to us all.

June 14 is a vivid reminder of the cycle of life. God gives; God takes away. He gives us the gift of memory to keep our loved ones forever fresh and alive in our hearts. I don't know about you, but it seems we spend more and more time "remembering who and when." Remembering makes me grateful and it makes my heart smile.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

Writing about my own health reminds me of that old joke about the woman who gave an organ recital every time she saw you. My mother loved that joke though she was perhaps the greatest "organist" of all. I vowed I would never be like that. Rehashing the problems doesn't necessarily make things better, but for those of you who are kind enough to care, I'll give the latest news. We went to the doctor yesterday and had the ankle x-rayed. The good news is that the bone has not moved so surgery will not be necessary. The bad news, but certainly not unexpected, is that my feet need to remain immobilized for another three weeks--until July 5 when I have another appointment. I'll have to continue staying off of them as much as possible, but will be able to get around with a walker. Who knew that the lessons I learned about using a walker and how to pivot from one seated position to another in the nursing home last fall would be maybe more useful later?

This morning my attention was drawn to two verses in Psalm 37 by which I had put the notation: "seminary 1995." Verses 23-24 say: If the Lord delights in a man's way, he makes his steps firm; though he stumble, he will not fall, for the Lord upholds him with his hand. I had marked the passage shortly after entering seminary in February 1995. I believed I was where God wanted me to be, but wasn't sure why or where the path would lead. The verses said to me that if I was indeed doing what God wanted me to do then He would firmly plant my feet and guide me. There might be stumbling blocks and the way might be bumpy, I might stumble, but I would not hit bottom because the Lord was holding me. Here I am twelve years later and know how true the verses are! This morning I read them with another seminary experience in mind--Tommy's. Just in the last few days he and I have been discussing seminary opportunities for him and he's been investigating a particular one that has not been in the picture until now. If the Lord "delights in Tommy's way," the path there will be made plain.

Then I thought about the rest of what I read and was again reminded of God's sense of humor: though he stumble, he will not fall, for the Lord upholds him with his hand. I certainly don't take that literally. I did stumble and did fall down the steps. God did not magically hold out His hand and catch me. Physically, I fell. Spiritually, I know I will not hit the bottom because I am confident of God's presence and His steadfast love. That powerful hand is holding us fast.

Three more weeks of lounging. It might become a habit.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

At least three lessons have been learned or reaffirmed during the past eight days: 1) The "life of Riley" isn't all it's cracked up to be; 2) Black and blue makes more than a fashion statement; and 3) Always keep your pedicure current.

If you could see me, you might think that I'm living the "life of Riley" (if you are old enough to remember that saying) or that I'm practicing being a princess. Since a week ago Tuesday night I have been in the bed with both feet elevated. I have a broken bone in my left foot and my right ankle is broken--a result of falling down three or four steps. I twisted the left foot, lost my balance and landed on my right foot. The doctor instructed me to put no weight on my broken ankle side and as little as possible on the broken foot. I haven't quite gotten the hang of levitating so here I am, propped on pillows, behaving myself in hopes that will insure a quick recovery. It's a great way to catch up with my reading.

When our family returned after being gone for several days, Jacob looked at my legs, smiled and said, "MawMaw your feet are black and blue." One is wearing a black boot and the other is immobilized with a blue cast--a color I got to choose. I've always liked wearing black and blue together and from now on will view the combination as one that heals. I go for more x-rays Friday to check on progress.

Getting a pedicure is a simple luxury or it can be a disaster. Most of the ones I've had fall in the luxury category, but since moving here I haven't found my idea of the perfect pedicurist. So, I had put off getting my toes "done." Now the thought of having to go several more weeks with "undone" toes is bothersome. Oh well, the color goes well with black and blue.

As always, things could be worse!
As always, blessings overflow!

As soon as our church family heard of our dilemna, they went into action. It was bad enough to fall, but I fell while Tommy and his family were on a much needed vacation and we were determined that they should not come home on our account. People have prayed, visited, brought flowers, books and the best Southern cooking! One day Tom went to the back door and there was a lady sweeping off the porch. We are experiencing another part of the body of Christ and are being refreshed by cups of water offered in Christ's name.

So, what is God teaching me through this? Obviously the three lessons at the beginning of the blog come to mind. But, I'd have to say that I'm also learning something new about patience. I'm learning what it means to "rest" in the Lord. I am trusting God to act in His time and am being reminded not to sweat the small stuff. God is certainly bigger than any broken bones!

I am learning something new about presence. You know that being present with someone is often far more meaningful than what you say or do. When I was hospitalized last fall, the presence of my children meant more to me than all the medicine I was being given. They put a smile on my face and joy in my heart when they came into the room. I have seen Tom respond in similar ways when they are present. Yes, they help physically, but to me that's not the most important thing. It is their presence that counts. That's how it is with God, but even more so! Yes, I am trusting and resting in God's healing, but it is the promise of God's presence with me at all times that sustains me. It keeps a smile on my face and joy in my heart!

My granddaughter, Sarah, said it best when she was telling me about the first day of Vacation Bible School. After she had told me about the western theme with all the decorations, the songs they were learning and what they were making, her mom asked her what was the Bible verse for the day. Sarah said, "God is always with us. Wahoo!"

"WAHOO, indeed!!!"
Pastor Margaret

Today is Memorial Day, a holiday celebrated as a kick-off to summer with out of town trips, cook outs--all things American. Unless families have experienced the loss of a loved one in war, we seldom remember the real reason for the day. It is a day of remembering, a day of saying "thank you" to all of those who have made the ultimate sacrifice for his/her country. What would our lives be like if those sacrifices had not been made? How free would we be? Military service has always been important to me. My mother's only brother was career army, served thirty two years and proudly displayed four purple hearts on the shelf in his den. He didn't make the ultimate sacrifice, but he did give the best years of his life for his country. Today I honor him and his family who loved and supported him during his active service.

Other young men and women postponed education, career or the start of their families so that they could serve. That, too, was sacrifice. They came home, but some came with scars that can never be erased, scars that are physical, mental or emotional--or all three. Some of the scars are visible, some are not, present just the same. These men and women need to be remembered. They, too, need to be honored.

My brother in law, David, served over twenty years as an army doctor. He never saw combat, but the service he rendered was invaluable. He represents all of those who labor in support capacities that keep our troops well and fit for service.

Tom and I were fortunate. He spent the last year of his army service in Vietnam serving as an artillery liasion officer to the infantry. There were some close calls. During those days that he was away Lamentations 3:22, 23 were verses that stayed in my mind. "It is of the Lord's mercies that we are not consumed. They are new every morning. Great is His faithfulness!" Tom came home. To think the "what ifs" of my life without him is like entering the dark, scary places of unknown caves or getting too close to the edge of a cliff. My mind just can't go there.
Today I honor my husband, one who came home, but one who also served so that we all can enjoy the freedoms we have.

Thank a service person today. Thank God for that person. Thank God for our freedom.
Remember the families of those who have died and pray for the safety of our troops. I am reminded of the words of a hymn I learned in college: "O God of love, O King of peace, make wars throughout the world to cease." May this be our constant prayer.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

We went to our first Parkinson's Support Group tonight. I had inquired about a group at the neurology clinic, had a number to call but it hasn't been a high priority. In Sunday's paper there was a blurb telling about this month's meeting and the topic to be presented--sleep disorders in Parkinson's patients. That rang a bell and got us to the meeting! I'll have to say that it was interesting being in a room full of patients and caregivers trying to determine which ones were which by just looking. From comments made and questions asked it was clear how common sleep problems are. I believe one of the values of support groups can be seeing for yourself that you are not alone in whatever the situation or problem is. The conversation followed a natural path toward medications that are prone to cause drowsiness, particularly one that can make you fall asleep quite suddenly even when you are driving. It's a medication Tom has been on for a while and one of the reasons I had questions about his driving abilities. There were several comments made about giving up one's keys being equated with giving up independence and an interesting comment about having to weigh what you are giving up against what you might be taking from another if you continue to drive and have an accident. I remember how difficult the adjustment was in our family. Tough love is not just for raising children!

Last night we went to another church softball game. Last week I stayed in the car and had a pretty good view of the field, but last night I couldn't get very close so I sat in the bleachers. It's hard for me to not see Tom playing in the game, so I sort of hide in the car. He wants so badly to play, but knows he had to give that up along with driving. Tom's ball playing now takes place in our backyard with Drew, our four year old grandchild who is playing T-ball. I don't know which of them has the most fun--both look forward to it.

Tonight I was reminded yet again that a situation can always be worse. Parkinson's robs a person of so much, but it never can take away who that person is. Life is not about what we do, but who we are, who we are as the people God has created us to be. Tom can't drive and he can't play softball, but his faith is stronger than ever, his spirits are high and his sense of humor doesn't skip a beat. He has the same heart, the same soul, the same firm beliefs in God, the same love for his friends and family. Parkinson's will never diminish who he is!

It has been a year since the rediscovery of my cancer. It boggles my mind when I think about all the things that have happened in these twelve months. I will never forget the atmosphere in the room or the looks on the faces of the doctor, Tom and Tommy when the prognosis was given. The cancer had returned; it was not curable and my time was limited--one to two years. The doctor added, "Unless there is a miracle." So many things went through my mind. That conversation in the doctor's office was the beginning of a new life for us: a life we didn't plan and one that we would not have designed for ourselves. Through the summer my health got progressively worse, as did Tom's until by the fall we were both in pretty bad shape. I was as sick as I have ever been and Tom's stress load was terrible. As at least two neurologists have told us, "Stress and Parkinson's don't mix." But things did not turn out the way we expected when we moved. God worked a miracle and the cancer has been in remission--that reduces the stress on Tom and his condition has more or less stabilized. Even though we both have to keep up with regular doctors' appointments, our health doesn't dictate how we live. It's that "focus thing" again. We try to keep our focus on God and not on the "what ifs" of Parkinson's and cancer.

Tuesday we went to Presbytery and transferred my membership from the Presbytery of Sacramento to the Presbytery of the Mid-South. It was bittersweet. Moving my membership will get me more involved, but it's also the final step in the dissolution of my call in California.
I'm excited about what God might have in store for me here.

If you remember I posed two questions for my talk at Wednesday night supper last week: "How do I/we get there from here?" and "How did I/we get here from there?" There's nothing magical or mysterious about the answer, no new revelation to share. The simple answer for us all at any time, at any age and in any circumstance is to be obedient to God. It means being obedient not just to the Word of God, His commandments or law, but to God because of the relationship God has initiated with us. In some things obedience is the same for all believers, but there are specific ways we each have to come to grips with what God wants of us. I find that to be not only a great responsibility, but a great adventure as well. Our experience is that with obedience comes great blessing. I can't wait to see what is in store for us as we strive to know God's will for us. We have come a long way in a year. Praise God from whom all blessings flow!

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

We are beginning to realize just how busy retirement is! Monday Tom had appointments with two different doctors: a follow up with his neurologist and an introductory appointment with a GI. Both went well. The neurologist had the results of all the tests Tom has had in the past month and a report from the visit at the Vanderbilt Clinic. All things considered, we both thought it was a good visit. There is no appreciative change in mobility or in the MRI, but the blood work did turn up an abnormality in protein activity which led to the couple of scans he had. They discovered a nodule on a lung which he knew he had and has had for at least fifty years. There was nothing else so the blood will be monitored. He doesn't have to go back until August. The GI visit produced no answers about his weight or the problems he's had with his stomach. We answered all the questions we could, but the doctor really needed past records as a place to start so he was to send for them. He also ordered an ultra-sound of the gall bladder which will be done later this morning. I know Tom is tired of being poked, prodded and pictured.

Tuesday morning I spent with Sarah, home from school with strep throat. I remember that when we lived across the country I'd think that if only we were closer, I could help with the children at times like these. And while I was with her I remembered the Noewen quote I shared not so long ago about God-given tasks. Staying with Sarah was one of those. She is an affectionate, expressive child, quick to say "I love you" and give you hugs. We spent some time reading together and it was neat to notice how her reading skills have improved over the past few months.

Another morning we had a handy man here working, doing somewhat simple tasks that we can either no longer do or want to do. Even though he was doing the work, I still needed to be available. We have also had three lawn services come give estimates on yard maintenance and getting beds cleaned up from normal winter wear and the untimely freeze we had at Easter.

Wednesday night I had the program for the weekly supper at the church. I enjoyed working on the talk, but trying to get a power point done without the assistance to which I was accustomed took a lot of time. I wished more than once for Mary and Mindy! Then we had technical problems when the projector couldn't find my computer. I don't know why. They were sitting right next to one another! I'm not sure I will ever understand this computerized world!!!

This morning I saw an answer to a prayer. The Psalms are always a part of my daily quiet time and right now I am meditating on Psalm 119 one section at a time. The reading today began with the psalmist asking God to deliver him from his suffering. Throughout the psalm the reader is in touch with all the sorrow and oppression in the life of the writer and it is easy in some respects to identify with him. But today, as I read his request to be delivered from his suffering, I put down the Bible and thanked God for what He has done for me in this area. I am still concerned about cancer and pray for continued remission; I am still lonely and miss my friends and ministry more than ever; and I still am saddened and frustrated with Tom's illness, but reading the psalmist's request was one of those "aha moments." God is at work in me, refocusing my thoughts to His faithfulness and goodness, away from life's impossibilities. The problems still exist, but I believe and can say with certainty that God is greater than the things that so easliy get me down. What a blessing it is to realize an answer to prayer! (See Jeremiah 33:3 and Lamentations 2:22-23.)

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

This weekend my mind and my heart have been miles away at a beautiful campground in Northern California. I have remembered the surge of expectation as I've rounded the final curve before Woodleaf comes into view. I have seen the flowers in front, the spotless grounds and then I see women, teeming like fire ants, trying to find a parking place, registering and greeting one another as if they haven't seen each other since this time last year. For some this is true because women come from many places for the FOPC Annual Women's Retreat. How I wanted to be there!

Instead I am home and today worshiped at the church where we now attend. It was Communion Sunday as it was in many churches. While I was sitting in our usual spot toward the back, I thought of our former church, the one that nurtured us as a family and each of us as individuals. They celebrated the Lord's Supper today and I saw in my mind a process I've seen countless times. I remembered our friends gathered around the table. From our spot near the back I could see many new people in our lives and wondered if I'd ever learn all the names. It doesn't matter. The Lord's table is common ground.

My mind and my heart were miles away at the celebration of the Lord's Supper at a beautiful campsite in Northern California. Some two hundred and fifty women were gathered for the culmination of a weekend of fellowship, fun, learning and spiritual enrichment. It is an indescribable experience, one that blessed my life for seven years, each one in a special way. This time last year I officiated at table with them for the last time, but what a special time it was! It was special because of the strong bonds of friendship that exist with those who were gathered there. We are together, the Body of Christ. I sat on the pew, prayed for my friends far away and heard the words of a song Marty sang during the service: "How beautiful, how beautiful is the Body of Christ." I am most grateful for memories and the friends who have made them. The Lord's table is a powerful reminder.

Grace & Peace,
Pastor Margaret

The past week has been jam packed with activity. Tom and I have needed to go to Jackson, MS to take care of several items of business and it took us a long time to get all the pieces in place to make the trip. Then, about the middle of March, a friend just casually mentioned that if we had not made a definite plan, we might want our trip to coincide with the weekend of the handbell concert at our former church. I had been closely involved with the bells since the beginning in the early eighties and Tom rang a couple of years as well. With the concert in mind, we planned our trip. It was a "complete" weekend. Visiting with friends, being in worship, hearing the bells, taking care of necessary business made the days full, but the evenings were spent relaxing in the homes of two families who epitomize the meaning of friendship.

We have maintained a small storage unit in Jackson since Tom's dad died in 2003 and we are anxious to clear it and close the books. Getting into it was no small task! Of course, it was locked with a good, strong padlock to which we had misplaced the key. The management had a bolt cutter, but even Tom and I together could not do more than scratch the lock. Finally, a young man came by on the way to his unit and we recruited him to cut through it. I watched him take a stance, grab hold of the cutter and make child's play out of a seemingly impossible task. When it was opened, I was pleasantly surprised to find nothing but furniture, a couple of throw rugs and drawers of miscellaneous hardware from Dad's shop. A second surprise came when we discovered we could get the two pieces of furniture I most wanted to use into the back of the SUV. Our friend, Boyd, just kept saying: "You won't know if they fit until we try." I was glad he out talked me. Now, the things that are left will fit in the back of a pick -up truck and can be brought here soon.

Dealing with the various projects we had was more affirmation that our lives are works in progress. We have to take things one step at a time whether we have legal matters before us, furniture to move or life to be lived. There is a right way to do things and a wrong way. We are left to choose which way to take. Next week I've been asked to have the program for Wednesday night supper--no suggestions offered for content. Since I seem to constantly ask myself questions of "how, what and why," I am posing two questions for the talk: How do I get there from here? and How did I get here from there? No matter the place, the circumstance or the age of the questioner, the answer is always the same. I'll share the answer next week.

Blessings and thanks for reading,
Pastor Margaret

Monday, April 23, was to have been a mostly unplanned day--that is until Sunday night when I learned that our youngest granddaughter, Meredith, was running a little temperature and couldn't go to day care on Monday. My "unplanned day" meant running a few errands, doing laundry and continuing to make order out of the chaos in our office. I was only too happy to be a grandmomma instead and spend time with Meredith. All the other stuff could wait.

As I started my quiet time routine that Monday morning I read the entry for the day in Henri Nouwen' s book, Bread for the Journey. His comment was based on John 17:18: As you sent me into the world, I have sent them into the world. Nouwen says: "We seldom realize fully that we are sent to fulfill God -given tasks. We act as if we have to choose how, where, and with whom to live. We act as if we were simply dropped down in creation and have to decide how to entertain ourselves until we die; But we were sent into the world by God, just as Jesus was. Once we start living our lives with that conviction, we will soon know what we were sent to do."

During the day I really chewed on those words. Would Nouwen really say that staying with a sick grandchild is a "God-given task?" I used to be able to say with certainty where God had sent me; I could verbalize my call. Then, all of a sudden or so it seemed, we were sent to another place, with no call and no clear reason for being here. I have questioned God's reason for uprooting us again. I have wondered what it is I'm supposed to be doing. A little child led me Monday. As I looked into her eyes I knew what my "God-given task" was for that day and I felt a great sense of satisfaction and affirmation. When Meredith was not quite a month old, I had the privilege of baptizing her , just as I had one of her older brothers a couple of years earlier. I look at them and see two beautiful grandchildren, but I also see two covenant children and am struck by the responsibility I have to help teach them the things of God. Throughout the day while she sat in my lap, I thanked God for her and prayed for her future, remembering just how important it is to pray for our children and grandchildren.

The tasks we are given are often not seen by others; they are seldom monumental in the eyes of the world. For just a while I forgot. Just as God sent me out into the world, God brought me home to help nurture my family. I am blessed to have been given such a task.

It looks like Spring; it feels like Spring, but, of course, it was only two weeks ago that we had about three nights of below freezing temperatures. Those nights did a "number" on budding and blooming plants and trees. We did a quick look this afternoon to see if things are beginning to green at the base. Fortunately, most things are trying to grow again. Unfortunately, the weeds are doing the same. Yesterday one of our grandsons said that our next door neighbor offered to give us the name of his yardman if we hadn't found one. Could that be a hint that our grass needs attention? Honestly, I look forward to getting outside to snip and prune and get my hands in the dirt, but I don't do grass.

Tom and I both visited our primary care doctor early in the week. I am officially discharged from any breathing help or treatments. Yea! I had quit with them a few months ago anyway. The doctor's concern for us was Tom's weight loss and my weight gain--pretty typical. Thursday afternoon we got a call from the neurologist's office just to let us know that all the results of all the tests ordered on Tom were in and would be discussed with us when we return the first week in May. The nurse asked how Tom was doing with the medication changes, spoke to the doctor about my observations and put him back on the original dose of one of the pills. The change started this morning, but I think I already notice an improvement. We are so grateful for all the medical care we are receiving and I, especially, am grateful for the neurologist!

The week has been full of many emotions. The older adult ministry network with which I have been associated for twenty years had the annual conference at Lake Tahoe and I wanted so much to be there. Being there would have also meant a side trip to Sacramento and I really missed that. The horror at Virgina Tech saddened me like it did thousands of others, but I was especially concerned for a dear friend and her husband who teaches there. A quick phone call to her at noon on Monday assured me of their safety. The murder trial of the "preacher's wife" took place in a neighboring county and much media attention has been directed there. I hope that as a result of revelations made in the trial that awareness of abuse will be raised and that people will come to understand that it happens in the "best of families." Neither side won.

There were also some great moments this week. We talked to several friends from California and had such a good time catching up and hearing their news. The mail also brought cards, notes and news from the church. Tommy needed a substitute to teach his Bible study on Thursday and "mom" was happy to be asked. I thought I missed teaching--now I'm sure I do! Yesterday Tommy cooked salmon on our back porch and the children played in the backyard. Such simple things, but such fun! Cooking with him has always been one of my favorite things. Today Liz and I went to lunch. I thought we both needed a break from routine. Marty and her family spent several days in the DC area visiting friends and seeing the sights. Their week was marred my at least one case of the stomach bug. That was not such a great thing. Our thanks to those of you readers who provided some of this week's great moments for us.

Tomorrow is Sunday, the Lord's Day. Both Tom and I grew up in homes where there was never a question about what you did on Sunday. There has never been a question in the home we established together. Today things are different. We can't always be in church worshiping God with God's people and that is hard for us both. We need to be there. I miss being an active participant. God's word tells us not to forsake assembling together. It says "enter into the gates with thanksgiving." It's not about what we get, but what we give in our worship of God. The most meaningful definition of "worship" to me came from a seminary professor: Worship is the adoration of God by the people of God. I hope we all have that opportunity to worship tomorrow.

Pastor Margaret

Have you ever wondered why the neighbors never seem to hear their dogs who are waking you up with their barking? Yesterday they barked early and non-stop until it was time for normal folks to be awake. I confess that I, a dog lover, had evil thoughts about those dogs! It's not that I don't like to BE up early, it's that I don't like to GET UP. How I am awakened affects my whole day. My mother used to say that if God handed out jobs in heaven she certainly hoped her job would not be to awaken people. Perhaps my distaste for annoying wakeups comes from one of her favorite tactics. She was a nurse and often worked the night shift so I would have to get myself up in time to practice the piano, dress and have breakfast before going to school. In those days not many radio stations were on all night so she would set the radio on a station due to come on between 5:30 and 6:00 a.m., turn the volume up to his highest and I would be awakened by "The Star Spangled Banner" BLARING through the house as the station signed on for the day. It's a wonder I can still listen to that song. If Tom's nature were like mine, he'd be out of sorts a lot of days. His sleep--or lack of it--used to be one of our biggest complaints. Then, it got better. Within the last few days it has been troublesome again--"Dr. Margaret" thinks it's medication.

Both Tom and I have said for a long time that we believed that when his medications were regulated or when the exact amounts and/or combinations were found for his symptoms, things would stabilize and be more tolerable. Experience, reading and hearing from friends who have also had Parkinson's affect a loved one have now convinced me that pretty constant changes in medication are the norm. It's frustrating! If you take too much, that's bad and if you take too little, that's bad too. It seems to be an impossible situation!

Early rising has its advantages. I can concentrate on reading the Bible, meditating on it and other books I'm reading, writing in my journal and just being with God. Late last week I read this statement about Nehemiah in Oswald Sander's book, Spiritual Leadership,: "He built up their (the Israelites) faith by redirecting focus away from 'the impossible' toward the greatness of God." Then Sanders adds: "Faith builds faith. Pessimism dismantles faith." Those are sobering words. In what affects my health and in the wilderness areas of my life, I know they are not about me and what I do, but about the faithfulness of God. Maybe that got lost in the move. Sander's words caused an "aha moment." My faith in God and His goodness comes when I quit focusing on the impossibilities of Parkinson's and dedirect that focus toward the greatness of God. My pessimism brought about by the changes in Tom and the futility of the desease eats away at my faith. It's not that I don't believe--it's that I resign myself to the medical facts. They cannot be disregarded, but there has to be a balance between those facts and the greatness, the faithfulness of God. Therein lies our hope.

Life is a matter of focus. Today I will not focus on impossibilities, but on God who alone is great and faithful.

Grace and Peace,
Pastor Margaret

Parkinson's disease continues to mystify us. Say the word "Parkinson's" to me and I immediately think "tremor." Tom doesn't have tremor and never has. His motor skills are certainly not the same as his softball playing days that he gave up only seven years ago when we moved to California, but for a person who has been diagnosed as long as he has, his motor skills are good. If only his mind could keep up! Monday we drove to Nashville to be there for an 8 a.m. appointment at the Vanderbilt Neurology Clinic. We met with a resident for about 30 or 45 minutes while he took yet another medical history and did the basic tests. The express reason for the consultation was to determine whether or not Tom is a candidate for Deep Brain Stimulation. When the resident returned with his supervising doctor we were told that Tom is not a candidate because of his mental state. If one has even the slightest memory problem, they are immediately disqualified for the procedure. When the doctors asked Tom's biggest complaint, he said the hallucinations bother him most of all. They are a result of the disease itself and some medications. That translates into another medication modification. My reading and research has taught me that changes in medication are to be expected and are the norm. Cutting some pills in half is a real challenge.

Tomorrow Tom is scheduled for an additional blood test and two CAT scans: lungs and abdomen. He had gained back about twenty pounds, but in the last few weeks has begun to lose again. If you pray for us, please pray that this is a problem that can be easily corrected. Appointments continue almost weekly until the second week in May.

Our trip to Nashville , in spite of the reason, was fun for us. We have stayed close to home since we've been here except for doctor visits to north Mississippi and it was good to be on the "open road" with all the trucks. There is an historic restaurant on the outskirts of Nashville that has been one of our favorites for years. Their speciality when they opened for business in the fifties was country ham and bacon--two foods Tom cannot get enough of. That and fried chicken and biscuits was how they got started. It wasn't until recently that you could get anything but breakfast items, with country ham, sausage or bacon naturally, and fried chicken. I've been told that they have the best fried chicken anywhere and except for my aunt May's I'd have to agree.
We had not been there in several years so looked forward to a wonderful meal on our way out of town. We were not disappointed. When in Nashville, include the Loveless Cafe in your stops.

I am reminded of a couple of lessons I learned from my mother and my Aunt May. Look for humor in everything and always look on the bright side. Things could be worse. In other words, don't grouse, but count your blessings always. For Tom and me to go to the Loveless brought back lots of great memories. Singing along with the Kingston Trio while driving was fun. Not long after we got home Liz, Jake and Sarah came by after school and we were greeted with big smiles and hugs as if we'd been gone for days, not just 24 hours. As I was unpacking and putting things away, I realized I was smiling for no obvious reason. Today the reason was written in an e-mail forwarded to me by a friend: "Everyday, every minute, every breath truly is a gift from God." Tom and I are truly blessed and grateful for God's gifts.

Pastor Margaret

In my last post I mentioned two reasons I like Spring: March Madness and the signs of new life. That was several days ago. Championship games have been played, victories have been celebrated, players have announced decisions to stay in school or declare for "the draft." Yes, I cheered for the champs in both the men's and the women's finals--both were SEC teams. I'll almost always choose an SEC team over another conference, but that's not why I cheered for the Tennessee Lady Vols. I cheer for them because of their coach, Pat Summitt.

In 2004 Coach Summitt appeared as a speaker for the annual Willow Creek Leadership Conference that is simulcast all over the country and in some areas abroad. She impressed me with, among other things, her honesty, her ability to get her message across and the sincere interest she expressed in the young women who go through her program. I was even more impressed and inspired when I read her book, Reach for the Summit, the Definite Dozen System for Succeeding at Whatever You Do. Her system works for basketball and it works in life. Take a look and see if you don't agree.

My other favorite thing about Spring, "signs of new life," has been struggling a bit the last couple of days. Just when we had begun to think that not another thing could bloom any more and any prettier, a cold front came and folks have had to cover tender plants and blooming shrubs at night. Last night our yard looked like squatty Halloween ghosts had arrived at the back porch. One azalea we covered doesn't look so good today and I'm afraid the wind stripped it of its costume.

Nonetheless, it has been a beautiful Spring! For us it has been especially fun to see what would bloom in our yard since we had no idea what had been planted. The dogwood in the front was a sight to see--in fact I couldn't begin to count all the dogwoods in the neighborhood. One afternoon our oldest grandson brought in a blossom for me to see. He was interested in the scars on the petals and I told him my version of the legend of the dogwood.

Of course the most wonderful "sign of new life" of all is Easter itself! We are happy this year to be able to spend Easter with part of our family. Yesterday three of the grandchildren came to dye eggs, something I hadn't done in several years. It was fun to watch their creative juices flow. We have also heard from many friends during the past week and we are reminded of how much friends mean to us. Easter is a time for family and friends. Easter is a time to celebrate! It's always been a mystery to me why we put so much emphasis on the birth of Christ and not so much on the resurrection of Christ. Without it there would be no life; there would be no hope.

May your Easter be filled with the hope that only Jesus brings and the joy of knowing that you have new life in him!

Pastor Margaret

Spring is one of my favorite times of year: March Madness takes center stage and signs of new life are everywhere. March Madness means a steady diet of college basketball all during the month, culminating with championship games early in April. Our favorite team played and won its way to the Final Four of the NIT, with us bemoaning the fact that we weren't physically present at the games being played about two hours from here. Tonight and tomorrow night we'll be glued to the TV watching the championship games for men and women in the NCAA. Then, no more basketball until November. College basketball takes a back seat for fans, but not for players and coaches.

Players are encouraged to learn from their failures and successes. The coach continues to drill the team on the fundamentals of the game, to practice hard and to aim for March of the next year. To reach the goal, to win a championship, no team can afford have a "pity party" when they lose and no team can "rest on their laurels" when they win. What a parallel for life! Life is not perfect--we are not always at our best. We don't make all the shots, we miss the easy lay-ups, we foul unnecessarily, we make stupid mistakes, we forget fundamentals. If we are too pleased with how good things are, how well WE have done we get soft, out of practice and don't make good judgements.

Both the basketball team and life have goals. While the team aims for March of the next year, we, in life, aim for what the apostle Paul called the prize, the high calling of God. The team is led by the coach to remember fundamentals and put them into practice. The individual is led by his/her Coach to remember fundamentals and make them a part of life. James wrote that it wasn't enough to hear the word, we are to do what it says. Fundamentals plus listening to the coach plus practice makes for an exciting March Madness. Fundamentals plus listening to the Coach plus putting the fundamentals into practice makes for a meaningful life.

Enjoy the games. I hope your team wins.

Pastor Margaret

Parkinson's is an elusive disease. No two patients are alike. Once you think you understand the symptoms or that you have it under control with medication, something changes. Then there are the contributing factors like stress, change, stress, weather, stress. Try as you might to eliminate or reduce the stress, it's still there. What makes it worse is that the stress in Tom's life is caused by those things in our marriage that have always been his responsibility--anything to do with business, finance, insurance, taxes. You can imagine how much those things have come into play with a move, the purchase of a house, the sale of another and income tax time. Believe me, I have learned a lot in the last few months! But, the stress is still present and it has contributed to daily (sometimes more than once a day) periods of extreme nervousness for Tom. Such times make the classic Parkinson's appear and he looks and acts as if he has had no medicine at all. He has difficulty getting up and down, he needs help dressing and his voice drops to a level that can hardly be heard. This started on a regular basis in February and has continued to get worse. Finally, yesterday the nurse called to check on us and when I told her that the weekend had not been good, she said for us to come in today.

The outcome of the visit is that he has another medication change, he will have another MRI to check for any physical changes since the last, he was referred to a GI specialist to follow up on the problems he has had with weight loss and his colon last summer and we are going to Vanderbilt to see if he is a candidate for Deep Brain Stimulation. I think that is done after every thing else has been tried with medication. We're not giving up on the medication, rather getting an opinion in case he needs to go that route later on. Our calendar for the next six weeks suddenly filled up with medical appointments. We had already commented shortly after we arrived in Tennessee that our life seemed to be regulated by the medical appointments we had to keep. We laughed.

Tom is best when I am where he is--not just in the same house, but the same room. I am trying to strike a balance where I can do what he needs/wants and still not feel smothered. Once, during my second course of chemotherapy when Tom was waiting on me hand and foot, I said to him, "We certainly are getting a lot of mileage out of that vow, 'in sickness and in health.'" We laughed. The vow is still being exercised, only the shoe is on the other foot. In Ben Johnsons's little booklet on prayer, Adventure in Prayer, one of his suggested parts of daily prayer is to reaffirm the vows you have taken. Remember what was promised when you joined the church, when you became an officer or other leader, what you promised when you had your children baptized and the vows you made when you were married. Think about promising, vowing before God that you would love, honor and cherish your partner. What does that mean? If you've been married ten, twenty or even forty years can you love your spouse more, honor him/her more, do you cherish your spouse? Thinking on those vows have made me a better wife, but they also remind me of where I fall short. Tom has been and will always be God's gift to me. With God's help we will continue to exercise and keep those vows, each in the ways we can. And we will continue to laugh.

Hello out there in "Blogger Land." My children were good enough to create this site last fall to keep friends and family posted on our ups and downs, comings and goings etc. I never read anything they had written until about the first of December and I was both amazed by their creativity and touched by the depth of their emotions. Since the last blog was posted in December they have encouraged me, along with some of you, to continue with the site. Marty posted an update last Saturday giving a thumbnail sketch of what life has been like for us since moving and I thought, "I can do this."

Moving was not easy. Well, the physical move was great because we were helped by so many dear friends who made it possible. Flying on Thanksgiving day proved to be a good choice, because flights were not full and the airports were not quite as crowed as they usually are. Tom and I were a sight in our side by side wheel chairs being pushed from gate to gate. He tried to get the attendants to race, but they were much too reserved for that. We stayed with Tommy and family for three weeks while we slowly got enough ready in our house so we could live here. The grandchildren had a hard time getting used to the fact that we weren't going back to the airport to leave again. The hard part of the move was leaving our church family, dear friends who have taken us into their hearts and lives and showed us unconditional love and care. It was hard to leave ministry as I have known it. Many times I asked God, "Could you just tell me why you moved us all the way to California, changed our lives completely, gave me a ministry I loved, blessed us with such wonderful friends, then moved us back across the country to do nothing?" Day by day He is answering that question with "Be patient, my child, and most of all be obedient. I am letting you know."

A visit to the oncologist earlier this week was good--the cancer is still in remission. Praise God! We were first given the good news in December and have waited a little apprehensively for the return visit this month. I couldn't help but wonder if the doctor had made a mistake. After all, he was a new doctor and didn't know my case as well as the doctor I had been with for the past four years. The prognosis given in May and repeated in November was not hopeful--"except for a miracle," he said. Why should I expect a miracle?

I took my own advice. For years I have been repeating advice given me by a special pastor friend about reading the Psalms on a daily basis. They are for me a spiritual staple, a food that no Christian should be without because they teach the attributes of God better than any one book of the Bible. They also are written from the heart as the writers talk to God about their innermost struggles and greatest joys. Reading and praying the Psalms once again has given me the most complete confidence in God that I have ever known. With that confidence has come renewed joy and the ability to see the blessings of every day. The question now is, "Why should I not expect a miracle?"