Life continues . . .

That's neither a "ho hum" heading, nor a fact I take for granted.  Being retired, living in the country, enjoying summer has given more time to contemplate, meditate and pray.  I constantly am amazed at how blessed my life has been and continues to be.  Seemingly ordinary things prompt prayers of thanksgiving.  Watching the peanuts and cotton growing up the road from our house gives pleasure and brings memories.  As a little girl I loved traveling with my daddy to the Mississippi Delta towns where the drug company he represented had customers.  The roads we traveled were surrounded by cotton fields.  Watching the different stages of growth always fascinated me--still does.  The peanuts remind me of Tom.  How he loved them!  He liked them parched and boiled and craved peanut brittle.  Often he would stop by the side of the road to buy boiled peanuts from the back of a pick up truck.  I even sent canned boiled ones to him in Vietnam.  He said they weren't the same as fresh, but were a fine taste of home. 

One amazing blessing that continues to give me pause for thanks is the way God has cared for me through the ups and downs of my health.  Yes, I do get tired the the endless routine of bloodwork, scans, doctors' visits, driving back and forth, and all the waiting at the Cancer Clinic.  Tom and I concluded one day that if we had a nickel for every hour we had waited in a health care place, we would have been far too wealthy for our own good.  My first oncology appoint this month was frustrating, to say the least.  Computer problems prevented proper procedure and I left the clinic knowing very little.  Later that week I received a call from the nurse who said that the complicatins that have been keeping me from getting Avastin had been cleared up for now and that the doctor wanted me to come the next week for treatment.  A thirty minute drip was accompanied by a four hour round trip and two hour wait for things to commence. 

A couple of days later a fund-raising letter arrived from Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center, a place we have contributed since my breast cancer in the early eighties.  I was about to throw the letter away, when I looked on the back page and there was an encouraging paragraph concerning the positive results of using Avastin with ovarian cancer patients along with chemotherapy.  The letter stated that this advace in treating ovarian cancer "represents an important step toward the day when it can be managed and treated as a chronic disease."  I am grateful to be a "guinea pig" and have been considering my disease as chronic, not incurable for many months.  Please pray that the complications will stay away so that I can take this drug on a more consistent basis. 

After finishing a devotional book, Day by Day with John Calvin, I went to the shelf and pulled a book I read twelve years ago:  With Open Hands by Henri Nouwen.  His writings have done much to influence my spiritual life and rereading this particular book was just what I needed at this time.  I was especially drawn to the chapter on Prayer and Silence and I thought about silence and the way it affects me.  I thought of the impact of silence after the house has been full of children.  It's rather bittersweet.  When I had to take my cat to be spayed and she was gone for 24 hours, I realized how much noise one little kitty can make.  I thought how necessary it is to be silent as we wait for God.  I was sad as I thought of the silence without Tom.  That's painful silence.  Then, God brought to my mind that He is always in the silence.  I am never alone. Blessings continue.

Life is good because God is good.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

Ah . . . Summertime

It's hot, humid and laid back.  Summer produce is abundant, Gulf seafood is plentiful and we have plenty of folks to partake of all the abundance.  For instance: a favorite family from our church came out to swim this afternoon and brought food to put with what we have.  Jeff, being from New Orleans, has cooking in his blood!  In fact, he's the chef for the crawfish boils.  He and Tommy are pooling resources and cooking up a treat of bar-b-qued shrimp, something with crawfish and some leftover trout filets.  I can hardly wait.  Earlier in the week I froze a bushel of butterbeans and will put up another bushel of something else in a few days.  I am reminded of a verse in psalms that says:  "Enjoy God.  Cheer when you see Him."  I cheer inwardly every time I enjoy all the fresh abundance of our state!

A new computer system at the University Medical Center made for a long day Monday.  I waited over two and a half hours for lab results so I could be given dye for a scan.  The most annoying part was that they had called to ask me to come early, which I did.  Several people thanked me for my patience and I had to confess that I really wasn't all that patient.  Two days later a nurse called to report that the scan is stable and that the Avastin is being restarted.  That means another trip to Jackson this week for treatment--four hours on the road for a 30 minute infusion--a 30 minute infusion that keeps this nasty disease under control.  I'm not complaining. 

So many good things took place during the week!  Two different days I had lunch with friends, I met with the small group I started, took four of the children to the library on two different days, got back to my knitting group at the shop and visited with an old friend of Tommy's who I haven't seen in over ten years.  Tonight Jacob returns from a week long mission trip in Jamaica and tomorrow we celebrate his 16th birthday (a couple of days late).  This afternoon I feel so blessed and somewhat overwhelmed by God's gracious gifts.

On a sad note, we said goodbye to John Marlin this week.  We will miss him, but rejoice with Connie that he has been healed and is at rest in the arms of Jesus. 

"Enjoy God.  Cheer when you see Him."

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

Is it worth it?

It seems as if every time I get ready to post something, the blogger folks have changed the format and it's difficult for me to figure out how to post.  Am I really that technically deficient?  Facebook is the same.  Where did all those pictures at the top of the page come from?  I'm supposed to mark my "best friends."  Reminds me of my six year old granddaughter who designates almost everyone in her class as her "best friend."  It makes me wonder:  who exactly is a "best" friend?  All my friends are BEST--the best in all the world!  When I encounter all these changes, I am tempted to quit posting.  Then, when least expected, I run into someone who says:  "I read your blog."  So, I'll keep on for now.

I spent several days last week in Memphis with my cousin and had such a good time.  We talked into the wee hours, went through knitting patterns and yarn, ate at favorite places and just enjoyed being together.  Our church has had Vacation Bible School this week and the children came home with lots of new songs and verses they had learrned every day.  It will be fun in the morning to see their final program in the morning worship.  This afternoon T & E hosted a crawfish boil--the second of the season for the softball team and the young adult Sunday School class. The weather has been threatening all day, so much so that an older adult outing was postponed, but it cleared off this afternoon and lots of people came.  The pool was full of children and the carport was full of adults eating crawfish and all the trimmings.  If I were a bit more computer savvy, I would post picture for you to see.  Maybe next time.

The best part of the week for me was getting reinvolved with older adult ministry in a "hands on" kind of way.  I began a small group study one afternoon and did some home visits a couple of afternoons.  I can't tell you how it warms my heart to be involved!  I know that I am an example of what God does in the life of one who makes themself available.  Visiting used to scare my socks off!  It's sort of like Peter who kept falling all over himself until the Holy Spirit took over and made him bold and on fire to speak God's Word. 
God has given me a special love and concern for His oldest children and I love to be with them.  Never say never.  God can and will use you if you are open to His leading!!

Have a great day of worship tomorrow! 

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

A Simple Reminder . . .

  In my quiet time this morning, I was hit with a simple, but oh, so powerful, reminder.  GOD IS IN CHARGE.  A couple of days ago I decided to pray through the psalms, using my prayer list.  Originally, I wanted to use the psalms as ways of adoring God in my prayers, but quickly discovered something more.  There are countless words and phrases that speak about the majesty, the completeness, the goodness of God.  But, the psalms also reveal the inner thoughts of people, the occasions in which they were written and their desperate need of God.  Always, there is the reminder of God's everlasting presence.   

A few weeks ago I was putting together material for an order of worship in which I was preaching.  When I asked for a portion of Psalm 9 to be used as the Call to Worship, the other pastor who was participating questioned the appropriateness.  The psalm is written by one who has been surrounded by his enemies and, in one place, strongly condemns them for their wickedness.  The pastor read the psalm and saw warfare; I read the psalm and saw deliverance and the power of God.  It fit with the Old Testament passage I was preaching and I believe it fits in our lives as we face "enemy" every day. 

Again, reading from The Message, we find these words in Psalm 9:  You took over and made everything right; when I needed you, you were there, taking charge . . . God's a safe-house for the battered, a sanctuary druing bad times.  The moment you arrive, you relax; you're never sorry you knocked.  In Psalm 11:  But God hasn't moved to the mountains;; his holy address hasn't changed. 

As I looked at my prayer list, full of requests:  healing for several friends with cancer, friends mourning the passing of spouses, selling our houses in Tennessee, my family, my own health needs, I remembered and prayed each prayer with, "God is in charge."  Knowing, believing those four words gave a peace I cannot describe.  Knowing, believing those words enables one to be strong in the face of circumstances beyond our control, simply because GOD IN IN CHARGE! 

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

Merry Month of May . . .

It was a month of celebrations, most of which featured food.  Now, it's time to think about simple things and a smaller waistline!  Fortunately, it's just about time for fresh tomatoes and all the other treats of summer.  All ready Paw Paw's garden stand down the road is open for business, selling squash (lots of squash), cucumbers and green beans, which we missed. 

We began the month by celebrating our friend John's birthday.  It was so many meals ago I can't remember what we served, but I do remember making caramel cake.  Mother's Day Tommy cooked red snapper with a crawfish cream sauce, risotto, salad and chocolate chess pie.  That was followed by his birthday and I prepared a veal dish from some "fancy, smancy" book, spinach fettucine w/ an herb sauce (from my herb garden) and German chocolate cake.  For the end of school, Tommy made a new shrimp dish from a Louisiana cookbook I gave him for his birthday; we celebrated Sarah's birthday w/ grilled steaks; and last night we had venison backstrap with sweet potatoes, green beans almondine and chocolate chip cheesecake for dessert (Sarah's birthday cake choice).  I am stuffed and we're all needing to get back to simple fare. 

Two weeks ago Elisa and I made a visit to the animal shelter so I could adopt a cat.  We decided on a little gray kitten and named her Smokey.  So far, she has been a delightful addidion to my household, but doesn't even blink when I hear mice.  She must have missed the "cats don't like mice" lesson in Kitty Behavior 101.  And, speaking of mice, all out war has been declared!!!  Tommy and Liz have discovered their presence in their laundry room. Their terrier has caught one, Tommy got one in a trap and two have sprung traps and gotten away.  He's been researching on the internet and today is making some contraption to put in the basement under my house.  A good bit of what he was found focused on "humane ways to get rid of mice."  It's too late for that.  I WANT THEM GONE AND WILL GO TO ANY MEANS TO SEND THEM PACKING! 

On the 17th, I preached at the opening worship for our spring Presbytery meeting.  It's always a little daunting to preach for your peers, but the day was a little more difficult because the agenda included dismissing five churches and three ministers to another denomination.  Separation is always hard.  Even in churches, it has feelings of divorce.  Who goes where?  Who gets what?  Who gets the friends?  How do we both adjust to new ways of being?  Several weeks before the meeting, I was sitting in church pondering some of those questions during the organ prelude. Several thoughts came to me:

• Though the Scripture says: "God so loved the world . . ." we are in a one on one relationship with God.
•  In the "Lamb's Book of Life," the name of my church is not listed.  My name is there.  I am an individual child of God, not just a member of some earthly boday of people.
• When we pose the question:  "What will ministry look like apart from these with whom I am accustomed to working?"  we have to respond individually.
• Just as our relationship, our salvation is personal, so is our obedience and our service. 
• Yes, we decide as a congregation what we will do about denminational issues, but we are responsible as individuals to God.

I have seen friends and families divided over church issues.  I have seen the decline of ministry of the Church as people have focused on issues, to the exclusion of focusing on Almighty God and striving to follow His wisdom and direction.  It's very sad!  It's also sad when a denomination spends most of its time trying to administrate rather than making disciples, when a people of God are more interested in relevancy than truth.  We have separated ourselves by issues so much that we have neglected to unite as believers in Christ.  Am I pleased with the direction of things?  No, not now, nor have I been for a very long time, but I am determined to stand firm in what I believe God's Word teaches and to be obedient, by the power of the Holy Spirit. 

Monday we observe Memorial Day.  Remember to thank a service person for the sacrifice made so that we might remain free.  Have a good one.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

It's a Good Thing to Hope for Help from God . . .

That's the heading for Lamentation 3: 19-32 in The Message.  If you have been a blog follower over the last few years or if you have known me over even more years, you know that Lamentations 3:22-23 have long been special verses to me.  I believe them to be true in every situation.  God's faithfulness never fails and it is what sustains me.  I'll always be indebted to my friend, Helen Sloop Martin, who introduced them to me while we students at Belhaven.  Recently, as I was reading Lamentations I discovered other verses in that chapter that really spoke to my heart.  Let me share the passage with you.

I'll never forget the trouble, the utter lostness, the taste of ashes, the poison I've swallowed.
I remember it all--oh, how well I remember--the feeling of hitting the bottom.
But there's one other thing I remember, and remembering, I keep a grip on hope.

God's loyal love couldn't have run out, his merciful love couldn't have dried up.
They're created new every morning.  How great your faithfulness!
I'm sticking with God (I say it over and over).  He's all I've got left.

God proves to be good to the man who passionately waits, to the woman who diligently seeks.
It;s a good thing to quietly hope, quietly hope for help from God.
It's a good thing when your'e young to stick it out through the hard times.

When life is heavy and hard to take, go off by yourself.  Enter the silence.
Bow in prayer.  Don't ask questions: Wait for hope to appear.
Don't run from trouble.  Take it full-face.  The "worst" is never the worst.

Why?  Because the Master won't ever walk out and fail to return.
If he works severely, he also works tenderly.
His stockpiles of loyal love are immense. 

Who among us has never experienced utter lostness or who cannot remember the feeling of hitting the bottom?  Those feelings of loneliness, despair, grief, pain--whatever they are--cannot compare to the amazing fact of God's love and faithfulness.  Sitting quietly and patiently does not come easy for me.  I want to be "doing" something, searching for a solution, but we are told to enter the silence, bow in prayer and wait for hope to appear.  Such words never cease to reassure me! 

The Presbytery of Mississippi meets Thursday and on the agenda are the petitions of four churches to withdraw from the denomination.  We have a gaping wound in the church and not just in my denomination.
Somehow, somewhere along the way, we have lost our focus.  We are no longer a church united, but a church torn apart by deep divisions.  Still, God is faithful to those who call upon Him, just as God remained faithful to the Israelites in spite of their turning away.  Pray for the Church of Christ around the world.  Pray for me as I bring the message at Morning Worship. 

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

The Drought Has Ended . . .

It has been so many weeks since I have visited this page that I almost feel as if I need to reintroduce myself.  These have been days and weeks of reflection; days spent in re-evaluation of the past the present and the future.  They have also been days full of activitiy. 

• Early in April I attended a luncheon at my college alma mater for those who had graduated 50 or more years ago.  Several of my classmates came from both near and far, to reminence about the "good old days."  Now we are eagerly looking forward to Homecoming in October. 
• I spent some much needed time with the financial advisor who has taken care of us for many years.  He did much to ease my mind.  He had answers for all my questions and simple suggestions to things that had taken up far too much of my brain power.
• One Wednesday two Jackson friends and I went to New Orleans for the day and had the Jazz Brunch at the Court of Two Sisters.  What a treat!!  The company was excellent, the food delicious and the weather perfect.  One can not always say that about New Orleans weather.  More often than not the humidity is oppressive--even for those of us who know humidity up close and personal. 
• There have been "end of the year" band concerts and pre-school programs.
• Now, it's May and things are headed quicly toward summer. 

One big issue that took much of my attention is not new.  It's called:  cancer, what I know about it and how it affects me.  In my last blog I mentioned that I had been to the doctor and that it was a so-so visit.  It wasn't particularly encouraging, but it wasn't completely discouraging either.  I have been concerned for months about results of a blood test that measures tumor activity.  My marker has consistently risen.  What I've learned, after having three different oncologists treating me, that different doctors view the results of the test from different perspectives.  Reluctantly, I have accepted that.  For instance, the original oncologist never wanted to see a result over 20; the second doctor was content for it to be under 35, the point at which disease is expected to be present; and my current doctor has a different opinion altogether.  He is not so alarmed at rising numbers by themselves, but factors in scan results and the patients overall condition.  Un
fortunately, I'm programmed by doctor #1 who wanted it under 20 and mine hasn't seen that number in months!  I can't even remember the last time it was under 20 except in December, 2006 when we were surprised to learn that it had dropped to 14.  (Long introduction to an amazing discovery.)  The Friday after I had been in the office and had the "so-so" report the nurse called to rearrange my appointment for May.  Since she had me on the phone I decided to ask her the results of the blood work earlier in the week and she said:  "Mrs. Suttle, the test is normal - 12.5."  Silence, as I picked myself up off the floor.  I could only stutter and ask how that low number could be possible.  Was she sure she had my chart?  Then I said to her: "If that's true, it's a miracle."  She responded, "This is a weekend of miracles."  It was Good Friday. 
Since that conversation, I have thanked God, questioned Him, considered what I know about the disease and finally decided that I'd take it at face value and declare myself cancer free, at least for now.  It is not remission, but the low number is definitely encouraging!

My doctor repeated the number when I saw him on Monday.  It was not a mistake.  Next month I will have the periodic scan, plus the usual blood tests.  We're praying for repeated good results.  Oh, and in addition to that, my blood pressure is lower than it has been in several months.  I cannot thank God enough for this new development.  All I can say is:  To God Be the Glory!!

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

Honesty in all things . . .

Why is that so hard? It seems to me that we spend a lot of time in our lives living in denial. Or, maybe it only seems that way. I, like many, have put my head in the sand, ignored someone or a situation, and pretended they or it would go away. Then, with sand in my mouth and burning my eyes, I would look around and the problem would still be there. It hadn't moved at all. I was accused of that several times during Tom's illness. It wasn't true. I knew only too well the reality of the disease and I had a front row seat in observing what it was doing to him. Pride stood in the way of letting others see too much. Possibly, those who accused had denial mixed up with hope. He and I always hoped for a better tomorrow, knowing that when the best tomorrow came we would no longer be together on this earth. Hope is one of God's gifts, though the awarding of it comes in a variety of ways. Hope sustained during the difficult days of watching Tom decline, during the days when I was the only one saying anything. I never knew if he heard me reading the Scripture, praying with him or singing favorite hymns and children's Sunday School songs. Yet, I hoped.

Today, I hope for friends who are facing illness and loss of loved ones and I wonder: which is more painful, reality or denial? It's difficult for the strongest person, even the strongest Christian, to face the reality of finality. As bright as hope looms, there is always sadness trying to push itself to the forefront. We find ourselves trying to hang on for just one more day. My heart aches for those who face difficult times and for those who are trying to heal from loss. Daily, I face the reality of life without my partner, my soulmate, the one who loved me so completely and who helped me become the person I am today. It isn't easy. Now, I hope for the day that Tom and I will be reunited, when I will know the reality of what he now knows.

While I was never in denial about Tom's illness, I have had to face the fact that I may have let some of that creep into what I know about my own health. My visit with the doctor yesterday was not discouraging, but it was not encouraging either. I am still being kept from the drug that seems to have worked the best in keeping cancer activity at its lowest because of possible serious damage to my kidneys. I was told that another problem I have could be the result of the medications or the disease itself. The denial has come in my putting off some things that need to be done. I never want my children to go through the nighmare they went through a few years back when information that would have helped them was held back. I want them to be informed. Also, being the control freak that I am, I want to be in charge of my life and my passing. Away with denial! I owe my family the gift of planning and organization. Everything needs to be decent and in order, just the way Tom would have things if he was the one to remain.

As I drove home in a driving rain yesterday, I thought about many things and made some determinations.

• I will not deny the reality of this dumb cancer.


• It will not control me, nor my lifestyle.


• It is what it is and I recommit myself to live with it.


• I will not deny the realities of things I cannot change.


• I will allow God to be in charge.


• I will enjoy today and hope for tomorrow!

Blessings,

Pastor Margaret

Where does the time go?

It's been said that the older we get the faster the days, weeks, months and years pass, but nobody said they would race at break neck speed. For a child, a few minutes seems like and eternity, but for those of us who are in the "older" group, we blink and the week is gone. As I drank my morning coffee, listened to the birds and felt the sunshine streaming into the room, I was reminded of making a commitment long ago to savor every moment of every day. Today is what we have. It is a gift not be be taken for granted. My college piano teacher would often begin a quote: "Thank God every day that you have something to do today that must be done." God gives the day; He gives the "something;" it's our job to discover and do it. So, this morning I made a list of what I thought most important for the day--I seem to work better from lists.

The children are outside, anxious to get in the pool. Instead, they are dangling their feet and sunbathing. The weather is certainly warm enough, but the pool water needs to be tested. It's amazing to see how wet they can get without ever getting all the way in the water. I'm tempted to join them, but then my list of "to dos" would suffer.

This afternoon the chickens will have their very own home. Tommy and a friend are constructing the coop and putting in the hay/pine straw. I haven't seen them in a week, but reports are that they are really growing. One sickly one died last week--now there are 13. My question remains: when will they lay eggs?

Herbs I planted before my trip are flourishing. I have started trimming bushes in the front and pulling weeds--a never ending job. Jacob and I put out some things I brought back from South Georgia and a little border grass that came originally from the house we built in Jackson. I had given my cousin some several years ago, so she gave some back to me. If I only had a green thumb like she has. I told Liz this morning that Julia could put her finger in the dirt and it would grow. She gets that from our Grandmother Carter.

It's been a good week, full and busy. My income tax stuff is just about ready to put in the mail and the IRS finally responded to my inquiry about someone using Tom's SSN last year and sent me my refund check. That only took 10 months! The office is shaping up; I found something that would clean the floors and not leave smears and streaks; decluttering continues. Chicken is cooked and ready to be made into pot pie and a strawberry cake is waiting to be baked. Paul said in his letter to the Philippians that he had learned to be content in any state. I agree. My "state" is good and I am content.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

Home Again . . .

The week went by far too quickly! I spent two nights with my friend, Dot and her husband, Jim, in Montgomery and we talked non-stop while we were awake. One highlight of my visit with her was hearing about the new church she and Jim have joined and then attending a church supper while I was there. There was absolutely no friction present, no cliques, just a group of committed Christians intent on being Christ like. How refreshing!

My time in Southeast Georgia brought healing to my soul. Even the drive through the heart of peach growing country was therapeutic! I have always loved the country, seeing all the crops and the rich dirt ready for planting. The peach trees were in bloom and were almost as pretty as almond orchards when they bloom--almost, but not quite. The night I arrived a 75th birthday supper was being given for my cousin's husband and I got there right in time for "low country boil," fried fish, hushpuppies and cold slaw. It was a treat! On Sunday I worshiped with Aunt May and Julia at the Lutheran church I attended as a little girl living with them. It brought back memories of Sunday School in a one room church, heated by a wood stove. Much of what I learned in Sunday School came from there. In the church service I couldn't remember all the places to stand and sit, but that was okay.

Aunt May is remarkable--still! She always has been remarkable to me. Other than a little patch of gray over her ears, her hair remains dark blonde at age 94. Obviously, I didn't inherit the genes from that side of my family. She said that the people in the retirement home where she lives can't believe she is 94; she doesn't look it, but then I wonder, what does 94 look like anyway? She represents home, faith, family, unconditional love and has made a profound impression on my life. Her care for my uncle as they struggled through Alztheimer's together was amazing and I remembered that care when our circumstances turned me into a caregiver.

Julia, who is more sister than cousin, and I had fun together. She took me to see the old familiar places and to introduce me to some new ones; we went to Savannah one day. There is no more beautiful city anywhere!!! I saw other cousins and was especially happy when one drove up with his wife from Jesup just to eat supper one night. One night Carsie, Julia's husband, took us out to eat, but mainly we stayed close to home and just enjoyed being together. I have a most wonderful family!

The chickens have "come to roost." While I was gone Liz got 14 baby chicks; I forget the kinds, but I remember there are four each of three kinds and then two little yellow chicks. They're cute now, but I don't know how long the cuteness will last. All I can say, is: "Bring on the eggs."

It's good to be home and I'm anxious to get on with the projects I have outlined for myself. In my time away I had much time to reflect on the past and consider the present and the future. How easy it is to get bogged down in things, as I have. God has been so good to me. I have terrific friends, a wonderful family and the memories of an extra special husband. Most of all I am a child of God. What more could I ask?

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

CATCHING UP . . .

The SEC basketball tournament has begun; State plays next - may be too late for me to watch. This has always been one of our favorite times of the year.

Marty, Christopher and Colin came for a week and I was so glad to see them. They arrived a couple of days after I fell on my knee, so unfortunately, I had to sit a lot. She was a big help to me, helping me think through some things and making me see some things about myself that needed to be seen. While it is true that I have grieved the loss of Tom, I have also been grieving the loss of home and it has been difficult to let go of things, both tangible and intangible. I have a new resolve to "declutter" and get on with life as it is now. For me, the week was over too quickly!

Tomorrow I leave for Southeast Georgia to visit my cousin and family. It has been a while since I've been there and I'm really excited to get back to roots! On the way I am stopping to visit with a long time friend from elementary school and college. It going to be a fun trip!!

Monday was doctor day in Jackson--another long day, but the news made up for the length and discomfort of the day. The tumor marker has gone down a few points and the scan was stable. The only bad thing is that the protein level is high again so I was not able to get the infusion. Maybe next month. Other than stiff and creaky joints, I feel great!

Conversation with Meredith one day this week:
Mer: Where did you get these new stickers?
Me: My friend Peggy in California sent them for you.
Mer: (With surprised expression on her face), Does she speak English or California?
And you thought I talked funny! I assured her that Peggy does speak English!

I'll post again after I return next week. Remember, Lent is a time to refocus on Jesus. I'd love to know what new truths you learn during this special season.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

February . . . a red letter month every year since the year we married. 2012 has been no exception. Truly it is a month that focuses on the cycle of life. We celebrate engagements, marriages, birthdays, other special occasions, passing from this life to the next, memorial services and this year we said goodbye to two more special people and the last living family member of my father-in-law. Then came the news of Baby Girl Bates, born within the last two weeks. God is good.

Yesterday was especially meaningful! It was Grandparents' Day at Elisa's playschool, a day we had anticipated for several weeks. She looked like a little angel, sang every song and knew the answers to ten of the first questions in the Children's Catechism. I was so pleased to hear those wonderful affirmations of who God is, what God made and what God does for us.

The second meaningful thing is having Marty and her two boys here for a visit. It has been years since we have celebrated her birthday in person--it was yesterday. So that all the cousins could be here for the celebration, we waited until late this afternoon to open presents and have ice cream and cake. Birthday dinner comes tomorrow--some redfish dish Tommy is creating. It warms a mother's heart to spend time with children and grandchildren, to watch them laugh and play together.

February 2012, especially the 24th, will be long remembered!!

Our weather can't decide whether it will hot or cold. After Marty and the boys arrived Tuesday, she had to go buy some short sets for playclothes. It had been snowing when they left Raleigh and shirtsleeve weather down here. Fortunately, it has cooled off some, but not for long. The only constant is the pollen--yellow dust everywhere and the allergy prone are miserable.

If you follow me on Facebook, you have read about my fall last weekend when I lost my balance, landed primarily on my left knee and flipped into the hot tub. That was one of our cold nights. I have been very stiff, sore and bruised, but am thankful to have been "rescued" quickly and to have not broken anything. I can hear Tom saying for me to be more careful, but what I know is it doesn't seem to be a matter of being careful or not. A beat up body; cancel that; a beat up, aging body "ain't what it used to be." Just call me the "Old Gray Mare."

We have begun the season of Lent, a time in the Christian church when we focus on God's grace and Christ's sacrifice. Some observe by "giving up something for Lent," others choose to make it be a time of prayer and penitence. I simply encourage you all to recognize the unconditional love bestowed on believers; to recognize how unworthy we are; and be thankful for God's grace. Think and pray on these things.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

Petal

Petal is many things. I have no idea how its name came into being. It sounds strange and for people who are "not from around here," I usually spell it for them.

Petal is just northeast of Hattiesburg. Most people have heard of Hattiesburg, even those outside the area. Hattiesburg is home to the University of Southern Mississippi which has an outstanding music department, is a member of Conference USA. It is a Certified Retirement Community, whatever that means and may be best known as the home of Camp Shelby, a National Guard training facility and apparently a sometime stop when you're being deployed.
Hattiesburg has good medical facilities, lots of fast food/franchise eating establishments and is home to three restaurants owned and operated South Mississippi's version of Emeril Lagasse. Robert St. John has been a favorite of ours for a long time; I have several of his cookbooks, read his weekly newspaper coulumn religiously; and eat at one of his restaurants as often as possible. Hattiesburg is on the map; Petal is a well kept secret.

Petal, with its small town flavor, seven or eight stoplights, bosts a terrific seafood market and grill. It didn't take us long to discover The Wharf! Merchants are friendly and helpful. I even found a yarn shop, after having looked in Hattiesburg and finding none. The owner/instructor is a home grown person, as is her husband. They, like so many, have lived elsewhere in the military or other work, but have come back home. Petal has a boomerang effect on its own.

Petal is particularly proud of its school system--as well it should be. It is because of this system that we chose to move here. Liz wanted the children in the system and she wanted to teach here. Almost from the beginning, we noticed the obvious support of the community. Driving by the high school complex we saw immaculate sports fields, a separate performing arts center and a semi-trailer, painted with "Petal High School Band," to haul their equipment. Not bad for a sleepy little town in a state whose schools are repeatedly on the low end of the pole.

We are constantly amazed at the level of the music program in the schools. Jacob had started band in sixth grade in Tennessee, did well, but the overall program lacked excellence. He came here, joined the marching band and was asked to play baritone sax in the jazz band--as a ninth grader. After marching season tryouts were held for concert/symphonic bands: there are two concert bands and an symphonic band which is the highest level of ability. We attended a concert Thursday to hear those three, the jazz band and two "senior projects." I was a.m.a.z.e.d!! Tommy said, "They didn't sound like any high school band I've ever heard." My reply was that I am so happy for Jacob to have this opportunity, to which Tommy said, "Now that I've heard them in this setting, I am really glad." Jacob plays second chair alto sax in the Symphonic Band and, as mentioned, is in the Jazz Band. Sarah Beth began sixth grade band in the fall and plays flute. She is first chair out of 20 flutes. (Thank you for allowing this old grandma to brag.)

As one way to show appreciation and support for teachers and staff, many of Petal's businesses give a 10% discount when they show their identification badge. Liz's badge save me thirty dollars this week on a new tire. People care about their schools!

Petal is home. I would have never purposely chosen it; I would have never thought it was a possibility. God is good! I have no doubt that He brought us here. I love the church where I attend; I love the area in the county where we live. I love the educational opportunities being afforded each one of the children and the way they have adjusted. Honestly, a year ago this time, I was torn--not wanting to stay in Tennessee without family and not really wanting to come here. God said: "Go; trust me; I will provide and care for you." I can only repeat: "Great is His Faithfulness."

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

Another round of Phew . . .

This time the word originates with me--and I'm not done with it yet.

Phew - Elisa is sick again; a trip to the pediatrician last Thursday; a round of steroids; more breathing treatments; now antibiotics. The cough is better, but it's obvious she doesn't feel as well as she could. She's been home with me all week. She gets tired and fussy late in the day, takes a quick nap after breakfast, but there are still hints of perky, happy Elisa. Phew, we all hope she's back to normal soon.

Phew - I spent Friday at Presbytery and the first part of the annual leadership training event. A new minister was examined and accepted into the Presbytery. It was so refreshing to hear his thorough, sound answers in the examination, to hear him preach and to have him lead worship. I knew from listening to his sermon and his treatment of the Lord's Supper that he and I had studied under the same New Testament professor in seminary. While there are many things that are discouraging in our denomination, I am encouraged to hear ministers of his caliber. Tom's name was read as part of the necrology report, even though he didn't reside within these bounds, nor belong to a church here at the time of his death. He was essentially a man without a presbytery, so the Clerk listed him as having been Moderator of Presbytery in 1996. Then later in the day, a minister friend asked where "your better half is."

The leadership training event began within minutes after Presbytery adjourned. Our keynote speaker was, again, encouraging. The Rev. Dr. Steven Hayner, current President of Columia Seminary, and former professor of evangelism there gave an excellent talk, preached at worship on Saturday and then led a class on mission in the church. He gave so much food for thought that I felt as if I had been through a buffet line, filled my plate and returned time and again.
Following dinner on Friday night, the Chamber Choir from Mississippi College, where Marty graduated, presented a most glorious concert. Then on Saturday, I drove back to Laurel (about 25 miles from here) and attended the rest. Phew, I was tired when I got home.

Phew - Marty and the boys are coming next week, to be here a couple of weeks. I'm trying to get ready. This will be her first visit to our new place and I want it to be "just right." Who am I kiddning? My house is never in that kind of shape!

My mind continues to buzz with sermons and information received over the weekend. For instance, Dr. Hayner used as text on Saturday the 15th chapter of Luke. It is the chapter on lost things--a lost sheep, the lost coin and the lost son. He talked about knowing God through this passage and suggested we look at the verbs instead of adjectives to describe God. Think about it. I have done that briefly. For instance, God seeks the lost and never gives up. He rejoices when the lost are found. What a difference it would make in my life and what a difference it would make in the lives of individual churches if we approached discipleship the way God approaches finding the lost! What a difference it would make if our hearts were completely in tune with God's in our attitude of reaction! Do I truly rejoice as God does? Phew - it's a lot to think about.

"For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son . . ." God bless us as we pattern our loving and giving after God's.

Blessings,
Pastor Mararet

Life and death . . . qualify as heavy topics. My heart and my brain can attest to that fact. Often, I ask myself why.

• Is it because too many friends have threatening illnesses or that even some of them have died?


• Does it have something to do with age and stage of life?


• Is it because we know too well that cancer and other disease respect neither age, nor place in life?


• Have I reluctantly approaced the anniversary of Tom's death?


• And, what about life? When is it really over?


• What is the measure of one's life?


• Does it matter how long or short?


• Too many questions; one sure answer.

I love the opening statement in the PC(USA) Brief Statement of Faith: In life and in death, we belong to God. One sure answer. Hymn writers said it in words like: On Christ the Solid Rock I Stand; Great is Thy Faithfulness; There is a place of quiet rest, Near to the Heart of God, and so many others. Many of the writers wrote out of their own experiences and if we were more knowledgeable we might wonder at how they bared their souls so effectively. Instead, we often sing, without paying much attention to the words. Just today I read on a Caring Bridge site a quote of O, Love That Will Not Let Me Go. What assurance there is in that hymn! We may question, we may waver, but it is God's love that holds on to US.

Sunday, as Tommy and Liz were driving into town to a couple of church activities, Tommy got word that a good friend from grad school had died that afternoon. She was diagnosed with cancer about this time last year, treated, went into remission and then her husband called Thursday to say she was back in the hospital. She hadn't felt well for a couple of days and when she went in, they told the husband that it was just a matter of days. She was in her late thirties.

On my way to the oncologist in Jackson yesterday morning, I received the call from Marty that I had dreaded. Her longtime friend, Susan, died early that morning. She was first diagnosed with inflamatory breast cancer in 2007 when the younger of her two little boys was a few months old. Through all of her illness and treatment, she refused to let cancer define her. Instead she inspired many through her blogs, her tireless efforts to raise awareness of cancer, her continued work on NASA projects and most of all as wife, mother and friend. She was 38.

Are you thinking what I'm thinking? What a waste! I cannot help but think that. Then, I return to: In life and in death we belong to God.

Not a day goes by that I don't mourn Tom's passing. His death left a huge hole in my heart that can never be filled, though I've tried with pep talks to myself and endless activities. They just don't work. A special California friend who lost his wife suddenly last month reminded me when I talked with him recently that God did not make us to live alone. Just hearing those words spoken did wonders for me. Hearing him say that made me realize, really, really know, that, in that case, God will heal the loneliness---if I'd but let Him. Today is the anniversary of Tom's death and it hasn't been a day worse than any other. In his honor, I made one of his favorite desserts for us to enjoy tonight. We will celebrate him.

Like so many cancer survivors, I look around and feel guilty that I'm still responding to treatment and living. I remind myself that Tom and I made that commitment together. We chose to live, not to sit around and let the illness take over our lives. If, in life, I truly belong to God, then live, I must, savoring every moment, responding to where the Holy Spirit leads.

It was appropriate yesterday to see so many signs of Spring on my trip to and from Jackson. They helped focus on life and not death. Trees are beginning to bud and show the hints of color, not quite like the pink haze on the almond trees in California that we loved so much, but deep rose colors. Tulip trees are blooming; patches of daffodils dot the roadsides. And, typical in Mississippi are the signs proclaiming roadside markets have boiled crawfish and Lousiana strawberries for sale. Seasons are changing--though we never experienced winter. To top it off, I saw a front yard full of fat robins as I turned into the driveway. As the teacher wrote in Ecclesiastes, there is a time for everything.--and it belongs to God

Blessings,

Pastor Margaret

Join me for a chat . . .

Sometimes my brain feels as if it might explode. Thoughts, activities, projects invade my mind and I have trouble making sense of everything. There continue to be necessary business items to consider (i.e. like finally getting the car tag, etc.) and those are the things that were on "Tom's side of the ledger." Last year the IRS wouldn't allow my tax return to be filed electronically because they said Tom's number had already been used. Friend and CPA Jerri tried everything she knew to get to the bottom of that mystery; we hit a brick wall. Now, here it is time to accumulate all the stuff for 2011 taxes and I'm still waiting on resolution from 2010. Finally, not knowing what else to do and having put up with too many computerized messages, I called the tax payers' advocacy group. They promised help; we'll see. I've gotten exasperated with the lack of activity surrounding the offering of my house for sale, tried to e-mail the realtor and the e-mail was returned. What's up with that? I know I should perservere, but instead I curl up with a good book or play a word game on my Kindle--avoidance, big time.

Also, clammoring for brain time are thoughts about life and death. Too many friends seem to have gone too soon. Some have gone unexpectedly, like Jan Stone; some suffer what humanly seems more than what a person should bear, like a dear professor friend and his wife; some really loving, productive folks have their days of motherhood and productivity cut short. It is difficult not to ask: "Why?" Today I drove to Jackson to attend the service of a ninety-something friend who was the last of my in-laws' group. The service was simple and to the point. The minister spoke of Lucy's life and how she was a woman with a great sense of peace because she had found peace in Jesus. Her request of him was that he share that peace with those at her service. Hers was a life well lived, a life that was example for all who knew her.

During my college days a number of us affiliated with Central Presbyterian Church in Jackson, MS. It is the place where Tom and I met and married, as had his parents before us. Lucy and her husband, the Suttles and several other couples adopted the college students and provided not only a church home, but opened their own homes to us on a regular basis. One of the men in that group mentored Tom in his law practice and invited Tom to be a part of his firm. How those couples impacted the lives of the students! Many of those students were there today as we paid tribute to Lucy--and remembered the "good ole' days."

Following the service, I drove to the cemetary where Tom and my mother are buried. There had been some unfinished business with the marker for his grave and I felt indignance rising. It's not like I could take my business elsewhere. A kind lady in the office gave me a map and directions and I spent between 20 and 30 minutes in a cool, brisk wind trying to locate Tom's grave. Mission accomplished. The marker was there with both our names, side by side--in life and in death. For some strange reason, I feel more a sense of closure. As I left, I was not sad. He is not there; he is rejoicing with the angels and, as always, he is in my heart.

While I was gone, the little girls had a picnic outside and Tommy helped fourth grader, Drew, with his science project--making a dill pickle glow. It seems I missed a lot by being gone a few hours. At Marty's house, this has been a week of birthday celebrations: Colin was 2 on Tuesday and Christopher turned 4 on Thursday. Colin's party was last weekend and Christopher's was to have been today, but the stomach bug arrived as an uninvited guest and his party has been rescheduled for tomorrow. I really miss a lot by being far away from them.

Tomorrow is worship, a day I love. It's great to be able to praise God with friends and to think of friends in other places who are doing the same.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

Phew . . .

Elisa's new word. Yesterday as we were leaving for storytime at the library and other errands, she used it twice, in just the right places. It made me think.

Phew . . . I'm so glad I have Elisa in my life! She fills me with joy and I am constantly amazed by the depth of her feeling. Marty called during the day and I knew immediately that something was up with her. Call it mothers and daughters being on some weird wave length or something; whatever; I knew. Marty's oldest and closest friend , Susan, whom many of you have prayed for, is at the end of her life. Marty needed to talk to her mom. When I hung up the phone, Elisa wanted to know why I talked so long to Aunt Marty.
Maw Maw: Aunt Marty is sad and needed to talk to her mom.
Elisa: Why is Aunt Marty sad?
Maw Maw: Aunt Marty's friend is really sick and cannot get well.
Elisa: What is her name?
Maw Maw: Susan.
Elisa: I can be Aunt Marty's friend.
I wanted to squeeze her to pieces. What a tender heart! And to think, I get to spend time with her.

Phew . . . I FINALLY have a Mississippi tag for my car and a title forthcoming. I have been trying for months to get everything official. Today I made my third trip to the courthouse to get the title put in my name and to get a proper tag. Afterwards, I headed to the Highway Patrol to get a Drivers' Liscense, had to make and unexpected trip to the Social Security Office, and FINALLY got my liscense changed and registered to vote, to boot. Why did it have to be so hard? It was almost as if the state didn't want my money---and we all know that isn't true.

Phew . . . the Older Adult Task Force is off and running. That's a good thing. How neat to have interested, optimistic folks involved! I am excited; no, I'm pumped to be working with such a great group of people.

Phew . . . God is faithful! Last week I spilled my innermost thoughts and it made me feel better. It made me face up to the facts; God has brought me face to face with things I know in my head, but have not been able to accept in my heart. I am grateful! What would any of us do without God's word, God's promises and God's provisions?

Phew . . . I am one blessed person--and I'm counting the blessings, one by one!

Pastor Margaret

Truth . . .

It has been difficult to write. For all the "stiff upper lip," the smile on my face and the Steel Magnolia appearance, I have been miserable. Through this past year, so many have affirmed me and offered words of encouragement, saying "how well I am doing." The truth is: I haven't done that well. I have been, as one psychologist wrote in her book, A Deepening Love Affair, "papering my walls with activities." That has been easy and comes naturally. First, there were arrangements to be made for Tom's service, the trip to Mississippi for the burial and memorial, Tommy's call to a new church, all the notifications and the stuff to be done when someone dies, getting a house ready to sell, buying another, moving, unpacking, family activity, "granny day care," a new doctor and regular trips to Jackson to see him . . . the list seems endless. Some days I am alone with a family of seven just across the pool. As I have sorted through boxes, I find pictures of times past and they tug at my heart. Some bring smiles; others bring tears. Several weeks ago I asked God to take away the pain of Tom's loss; He has, but the profound sadness, the emptiness remain. It has been suggested that I have not allowed myself to grieve, something I don't deny; I'm not sure I know how. And, during the last several weeks, I have learned of the deaths of both old friends and newer ones--precious folks from our home church and in the first older adult group I staffed; a special college friend and then just this past week Jan Stone. I was both stunned and saddened by her passing. What a great lady! What a great friend!

Life is indeed fragile! Last night I learned that our church secretary who was diagnosed with stage 3 lung cancer last spring, has been pronounced cancer free. Praise God! On the outside, looking in, most would have thought that Tom would outlive me by years. Until Christmas of 2010, he had not been in the hospital since 1944. Yes, he had allergies that plagued him at times, he had a back that would "go out," but until the Parkinson's diagnosis in 2003, he had been one healthy person. He was a man of integrity, a man who put God above all, someone who tried to be obedient. I keep thinking, "why was my Tommy taken from me?" In the past few days I have become aware of the error of my thinking. He wasn't "mine" at all. He always belonged to God and he was God's gift to me. Even now, I cannot full comprehend what that truly means. There was Tom, with an incurable, debilitating disease, our secretary with deadly lung cancer, Jan, so much like the Energizer Bunny, who was here one day, gone the next, and here I am, having been diagnosed with ovarian cancer over nine years ago. Try as I might, I cannot make sense of it.

Job couldn't make sense of his circumstances, but he never denied or cursed God. He remained faithful in spite of his afflictions and his so-called friends who preached to him. What I need to do is to quit with the questions and get on with answers God has already provided. He is the one who lights my path, who can heal my broken heart and who knows what my future holds. I know this in my heart; I pray to trust Him more.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret

The last one of 2011 . . .

For a minute there, I couldn't sign in. That's frustrating--not that I have that much to say, but still, it is Dec. 31 and I needed one "last hurrah."

2011 has been quite a year! It has been a year of profound loss, but also a year of profound blessing. We lost my beloved Tom and we all feel it: children, grandchildren, friends and most especially me. In spite of the loss I have had the time to reflect on the memories and to count my blessings. I was loved by an incredible man and for that I am incredibly grateful. I have returned to my adopted homeland of Mississippi. It has been bittersweet to be back in the state where Tom and I met, married and lived most of our life together. So many places remind me of him and they usually make me smile. I moved away from some good friends in Tennessee, but closer to my dear friends in Jackson, MS and I am making new friends where we are now. My health remains stable and my oncologist is optimistic that this nasty cancer can be held at bay. In comparison, other issues are inconsequential. The lingering question remains: why has God allowed me all these unexpected days? I know we are not to ask such things.

I know that tomorrow much be the Sunday after Christmas because I'm preaching. The "extra pastors" as some designated us at FOPC always get the Sundays after Christmas and Easter. But, hey, I'm not complaining. I'm more than happy to have the opportunity. I remember saying one year at Fair Oaks that I had preached every Sunday after Christmas since I began preaching my second year in seminary. One dear, prejudiced friend, sitting right down front started clapping. I'll never forget that Sunday--or the friend, for that matter.

We've had a quiet New Year's Eve--just like I like. Our friend John and his son came out to watch football and eat supper. We grilled steaks and ate dessert left over from earlier in the holidays. Afterwards, we went outside and legally shot fireworks, though I admit that I have never liked fireworks. In California they were everywhere!! I was always afraid that a spark would ignite the cedar shakes on our roof and we'd burn to the ground. They have been illegal within the city limits everywhere else we've lived, but now we're in the country. Tommy did the the actual lighting and the rest of us watched--except of the little ones, who ran in circles between displays. I still think I prefer watching the display on the 4th of July celebration on the Washington Mall. The colors are pretty and the noise isn't as great.

I leave you with a thought from Ezra for the New Year. In chapter seven it says that Ezra commited himself to studying the Revelation of God, to practicing its teaching and to teaching it to others. That, coupled with Ezra's belief that worship was central to being identified as people of God, combines to make a worthy resolution/commitment for the new year. It's a challenge for me and one I offer as a suggestion for you as well. I've never been a resolution maker, but Ezra inspired me. Will you join me? "I commit in 2012 to make worship central in my life; to study God's word; to practice what it teaches; and to teach it to others."

God bless you and Happy New Year!
Pastor Margaret

Catching up . . .

What a wonderful visit I had with Marty and her family over the Thanksgiving holidays!!! I arrived the evening of my birthday greeted by two precious little boys yelling "Nana," and running to give me hugs. Now that's a greeting not soon to be forgotten! We went straight home to find Mallory and Kevin's dad and to eat birthday dinner, complete with the best chocolate cake, selected by Christopher. We had thirteen for Thanksgiving dinner including neighbors and a Chinese family. I was proud of Marty's cooking and organizing skills. Other days were filled with playing, shopping, decorating, knitting, talking. All too soon it was time to come home.

I have loved going into my children's houses and seeing "our things" being used and loved as we loved them. Tommy has his dad's treasured stereo speakers, the grandfather clock the three Toms assembled and finished, an oak wardrobe Tom and I bought at an Illinois farm auction the summer he returned from Vietnam and a few other things. Marty has my mom's dining room table, my wedding china and a marble top table I also had gotten from my mother. Both have things from Tom's parents. Those "things" are like golden threads that weave the generations together and provide sparkling memories of times spent in their midst.

We have all had the respiratory crud, some worse than others. Elisa had a particularly hard time with it, but is all well now. The coughing made me more tired than usual, especially because it kept me awake at night. I saw the oncologist Tuesday of this week and had THE LONGEST DAY. The best part, however, was being declared "stable" once again. My red counts continue to be on the low side, so I've decided to give in to the tiredness and rest when I need to rest. Now, how long did it take me to learn that?

Last night Tommy, Sarah and I attended our choirs's offering of Rutter's Magnificat and it was magnificent. The soloist's voice was perfect for his work! Afterwards, the three of us went out to eat at a Hattiesburg favorite restaurant--a delicious way to end the evening.

Today I'm busy trying to shorten my list of things to do and in a bit will go to Drew's school for an author's tea. I have no idea what that is, but he invited me and I try not to turn down invitations from grandchildren. Sometime over the weekend I'm to take Drew and Jacob shopping for their parents. Ssh! It's a big secret.

It's difficult this time of year, with all the busyness, to focus on the reason we're celebrating. We are blessed to live where we are free to worship, sing and shout Merry Christmas. As I reflect on Christmases past, I have warmth in my heart and a smile on my face. God's grace has been abundant as is revealed in His greatest gift of all.

God bless you,
Pastor Margaret