Coffee? Tea? Serenity?

I woke this morning at 2am with thoughts of Dad.  I wondered if he slept well.  I wondered what his thoughts will be when he does wake.  I pray that God eases those thoughts into peace and trust that He will restore his health.

 I wake at 2am because, perhaps, I have been down with my back.  My physical activities are little to nothing.  Because I am usually quite active in doing that which is needed around our home and with our horses, I usually burn up all available energy.  Yesterday, and the days since mid-December have been quite different; no lifting, no straining, no climbing, and etc. allows me very little accomplishments on my "to do list".  Therefore, my body is rested and I assume needing less sleep. 

Several months back, I purchased a couple of books that I was interested in.  Yesterday, I was able to sit comfortable and begin reading one of those.  I love to read, but because of the other hobbies and activities that I have been consuming my time, I have little time to enjoy a book outside of inspirational praying and educational research.  It really was a treat, but all the while I wondered what I'd be doing otherwise.

Since Dad learned of his need for surgery, he has been a bit cranky.  Mom has shared some hum-dinger stories that I'm sure would tickle your funny bone, but with him not even wanting to phone family and letting them know of his upcomings surgery, I am sure that he would not be delighted if I shared them here.  Though, I must tell you that on his first day of retirement, he told Mom that she should toss out her sewing machine because it simply takes up too much room.  Since his retirement, he has shown some interest in the internet.  This interest requires that Mom teach him how to log on, save favorite web sites, and surf the web.  Often I have been on the phone with Mom while hearing him have a "Roland Fit" in the background.  The fit due to the fact that the computer simply will not do what he wants it to.

Because Dad is headed to the hospital today for the angiogram and surgery on Tuesday, and the fact that I am not certain what time my back will allow me to be at the hospital, I wanted to go visit with them.  During that visit, Scott popped in the video that Mom had taken during his recent retiremtent party.  During that retirement party, a DVD was shown which contained short, personal messages from various Talen's employees wishing Roland well in his days of retirement.  It was heartwarming to hear the words spoken especially for Dad by those that he worked with, but one phrase was said by many...."the little blue pill".  Some people assumed that blue pill to be Viagra.  Because Mom is so "informative", I knew that it was not THAT.  Working with Dad for several years,and the fact that he is my dad,  allowed me to completely understand what "blue pill" they were referring to.  Mr. August is an employee of Talen's.  He is an elderly gentleman with a mild and gentle temperment.  Mr. August summed it all up in his message on the DVD.  He said, "When Roland would ...., and......, and ......, THAT was hilarious!"  What Mr. August was describing was the "Roland Fits" that he had witnessed.  And that brought the entire group into rolling laughter.  Again, last night, as we viewd that DVD, we could not help but laugh....retirement did not end his need for the "blue pill" which Scott inquired about.  Roland said it was for hypertension.  Judy said it was needed for anxiety.  Scott said, "OH, you mean the TRANQUILIZER!"  Scott has worked a couple of summers with his Paw.  I guess he saw some of those days in which the blue pill was needed, too.

But, all in all when Scott is around Paw,a nd Maw, is laughing.  We had a lovely visit, Scott ate the entire time we were there, (checking the dates on each package) and then we headed home so that we could all retire for the evening. 

Today, I ask that you join me in prayer for Dad as he faces today's angiogram and tomorrow's surgery.  Let us also remember to pray for Mom who will be at his side through it all; hopefully.  I heard her mention the word "motel" as she spoke on the phone with someone.  I guess she is prepared with PlanB just in case there aren't enought "blue pills" to settle down Dad.

I ask that you keep all of us in your prayers as we walk a pathway in faith toward restrored health and healing.

• Monday, Jan. 14 = Roland Angiogram
• Tuesday, Jan. 15 = Roland surgery to correct blockages in the right side of his neck.
• Wed., Jan. 16 = I have an appt. for a diagnostic mammogram; nodule detected during office visit with Dr. Foreman.
• Wed., Jan. 16 = Roland is expected to be released from the hospital
• Monday, Jan. 21 = I meet with Dr. Bolin to review the results of mammogram
• Roland will return for the surgery on the left side of his neck two weeks followling the first.
• Jan. 31 = Mike has a dental appt; application of a crown will begin.

Matthew 4:24 - "and He healed them"

Check back soon.  I plan to keep family and friends updated via this blog.  With my own pending appointments and my back being out of whack, the updates might be short.  You can give me a call anytime.

Check back soon.  I plan to blog the information related to my recent and ongoing symptoms, treatments, and God's Hands directing me in my health related topics.  When God is there, it makes even the most frustrating times all the more interesting.

 See ya soon.

I dropped in to assure that none of my blog would be removed due to inactivity.  The words which this blog contain are sometime difficult to read, but this blog holds great importance in my journey "In His Steps".

May all be blessed, in Jesus' name.

 The following message came to me in an email.  The author was not noted.  If you can share with me who that author is, I would give them the proper credit.

It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and  ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, "Can't you see I'm on the phone?" Obviously not; no one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I'm invisible. 

Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more:  Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this?  Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, "What time is it?" I'm a satellite guide to answer, "What number is the Disney Channel?" I'm a car to order, "Right around 5:30,  I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum laude -  but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's going, she's going, she's gone!
 
One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of  a friend from England. Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well.  It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself as I looked down at my out-of-style dress; it was the only thing I could find that was clean. My unwashed hair was pulled up in a hair clip and I was afraid I could actually smell peanut butter in it. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, "I brought you this." It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe. I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription: "To Charlotte, with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees."
 
In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work: No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names. These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished. They made great sacrifices and expected no credit. The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.

A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, "Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it."  And the workman replied, "Because God sees."  I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, "I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over.  You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become."

At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride. I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on.  The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.
 
When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, "My mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table." That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home.  And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add,  "You're gonna love it there."  As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right.  And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.

 Author Unknown
 

 
"I know God will not give me anything I can't handle. I just wish that He didn't trust me so much." 
                          Mother Teresa

There was a couple who used to go England to shop in a beautiful antique store. This trip was to celebrate their 25th wedding anniversary. They both liked antiques and pottery, and especially tea cups. Spotting an exceptional cup, they asked, "May we see that? We've never seen a cup quite so beautiful."

As the lady handed it to them, suddenly the tea cup spoke, "You don't understand," it said. "I have not always been a tea cup. There was a time when I was just a lump of red clay. My master took me and rolled me, pounded and patted me over and over, and I yelled out, 'Don't do that. I don't like it! Let me alone,' but he only smiled, and gently said, 'Not yet!'

Then... WHAM! I was placed on a spinning wheel and suddenly I was spun around and around and around. 'Stop it! I'm getting so dizzy! I'm going to be sick!' I screamed. But the master only nodded and quietly said, 'Not yet.' He spun me and poked and prodded and bent me out of shape to suit himself and then... then he put me in the oven.

I never felt such heat. I yelled and knocked and pounded at the door. 'Help! Get me out of here!' I could see him through the opening and I could read his lips as he shook His head from side to side, 'Not yet.' "When I thought I couldn't bear it another minute, the door opened. He carefully took me out and put me on the shelf, and I began to cool.

Oh, that felt so good! Ah, this is much better, I thought. "But, after I cooled, he picked me up and he brushed and painted me all over. The fumes were horrible. I thought I would gag. 'Oh, please, stop it, stop it!!' I cried. He only shook his head and said, 'Not yet!'

Then suddenly he put me back in to the oven. Only it was not like the first one. This was twice as hot and I just knew I would suffocate. I begged. I pleaded. I screamed. I cried. I was convinced I would never make it. I was ready to give up. Just then the door opened and he took me out and again placed me on the shelf, where I cooled and waited... and waited... wondering, What's he going to do to me next? !"

An hour later he handed me a mirror and said, 'Look at yourself.' And I did.

"I said, 'That's not me. That couldn't be me. It's beautiful. I'm beautiful!'

Quietly he spoke: 'I want you to remember back to the beginning,' he said, 'I know it hurt to be rolled and pounded and patted but, had I just left you alone, you'd have dried up. I know it made you dizzy to spin around on the wheel but, if I had stopped, you would have crumbled. I know it hurt, and it was hot and disagreeable in the oven but, if I hadn't put you there, you would have cracked. I know the fumes were bad when I brushed and painted you all over but, if I hadn't done that, you never would have hardened. You would not have had any color in your life. If I hadn't put you back in that second oven, you wouldn't have survived for long because the hardness would not have held. Now you are a finished product. Now you are what I had in mind when I first began with you.'"

The moral of this story is this: God knows what He is doing with each of us. He is the Potter, and we are His clay. He will mold us and make us, and expose us to just enough pressures - of just the right kinds - so that we may be made into a flawless piece of work to fulfill His good, pleasing and perfect will.

So... when life seems hard, and you are being pounded and patted and pushed almost beyond endurance; when your world seems to be spinning out of control; when you feel like you are in a fiery furnace of trials; when life seems to "stink", try this... brew a cup of your favorite tea in your nicest tea cup, sit down, and think of this story. Then have a talk with the Potter.

Author Unknown

I received this one in an email and thought it was cute enough to share here.  The name of the author was not listed with the story, so if you know who wrote it, I'd be glad to give that person the credit deserved.

My husband and I had been happily (most of the time) married for five
years but hadn't been blessed with a baby. I decided to do some serious
praying and promised God that if he would give us a child, I would be a
perfect mother, love it with all my heart and raise it with his word as
my guide.

God answered my prayers and blessed us with a son. The next year God
blessed us with another son. The following year, he blessed us with yet
another son. The year after that we were blessed with a daughter.

My husband thought we'd been blessed right into poverty. We now had four
children, and the oldest was only four years old. I learned never to ask
God f or any thing unless I meant it. As a minister once told me, "If you
pray for rain, make sure you carry an umbrella."

I began reading a few verses of the Bible to the children each day as
they lay in their cribs. I was off to a good start. God had entrusted me
with four children and I didn't want to disappoint him.

I tried to be patient the day the children smashed two dozen eggs on the
kitchen floor searching for baby chicks.

I tried to be understanding when they started a hotel for homeless frogs
in the spare bedroom, although it took me nearly two hours to catch all
twenty-three frogs.

When my daughter poured ketchup all over herself and rolled up in a
blanket to see how it felt to be a hot dog, I tried to see the humor
rather than the mess. In spite of changing over twenty-five thousand
diapers, never eating a hot meal and never sleeping for more than thirty
minutes at a time, I still thank God daily for my children.

While I couldn't keep my promise to be a perfect mother - I didn't even
come close - I did keep my promise to raise them in the Word of God. I
knew I was missing the mark just a little when I told my daughter we were
going to church to worship God, and she wanted to bring a bar of soap
along to "wash up" Jesus, too.

Something was lost in the translation when I explained that God gave us
everlasting life, and my son thought it was generous of God to give us
his "last wife."

My proudest moment came during the children's Christmas pageant. My
daughter was playing Mary, two of my sons were shepherds and my youngest
son was a wise man. This was their moment to shine.

My five-year-old shepherd had practiced his line, "We found the babe
wrapped in swaddling clothes." But he was nervous and said, "The baby was
wrapped in wrinkled clothes." My four-year-old "Mary" said, "That's not
'wrinkled clothes,' silly. That's dirty, rotten clothes."

A wrestling match broke out between Mary and the shepherd and was stopped
by an angel, who bent her halo and lost her left wing. I slouched a
little lower in my seat when Mary dropped the doll representing Baby
Jesus, and it bounced down the aisle crying, "Mama-mama." Mary grabbed
the doll, wrapped it back up and held it tightly as the wise men arrived..

My other son stepped forward wearing a bathrobe and a paper crown, knelt
at the manger and announced, "We are the three wise men, and we are
bringing gifts of gold, common sense and fur."

The congregation dissolved into laughter, and the pageant got a standing
ovation. "I've never enjoyed a Christmas program as much as this one,"
laughed the pastor, wiping tears from his eyes. "For the rest of my life,
I'll never hear the Christmas story without thinking of gold, common
sense and fur."

"My children are my pride and my joy and my greatest blessing, " I said as
I dug through my purse for an aspirin.

Proverbs 22:6  Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it.

A dear friend and I occasionally joke about how we are attemtping to remain in the train of sanity, but with the bumpy rides of life it often feels like we are falling from that train.  With the laughs that accompany those jokes, this email that I received fit right it.  I hope that you enjoy it as much as I did. 

20 Ways to Maintain a Healthy Level of Insanity

1. At Lunch Time, Sit In Your Parked Car With Sunglasses on and point a
Hair Dryer At Passing Cars. See If They Slow Down.

2. Page Yourself Over The Intercom. Don't Disguise Your Voice.

3. Every Time Someone Asks You To Do Something, Ask If They Want Fries with that.

4. Put Your Garbage Can On Your Desk And Label It "In."

5. Put Decaf In The Coffee Maker For 3 Weeks. Once Everyone has Gotten
Over Their Caffeine Addictions, Switch to Espresso.

6. In The Memo Field Of All Your Checks, Write "For Smuggling Diamonds".

7. Finish All Your sentences with "In Accordance With The Prophecy."

8. Don't use any punctuation.

9. As Often As Possible, Skip Rather Than Walk.

10. Order a Diet Water whenever you go out to eat...use a serious face.

11. Specify That Your Drive-through Order Is "To Go."

12. Sing Along At The Opera.

13. Go To A Poetry Recital And Ask Why The Poems Don't Rhyme.

14. Put Mosquito Netting Around Your Work Area And Play tropical Sounds
All Day.

15. Five Days In Advance , Tell Your Friends You Can't Attend Their Party Because You're Not In The Mood.

16. Have Your Coworkers Address You By Your Wrestling Name, Rock Bottom.

17. When The Money Comes Out of The ATM, Scream "I Won!, I Won!"

18. When Leaving The Zoo, Start Running Towards The Parking lot,
Yelling, "Run For Your Lives, They're Loose!!"

19. Tell Your Children Over Dinner. "Due To The Economy, We Are Going
To Have To Let One Of You Go."

20. And The Final Way To Keep A Healthy Level Of Insanity.......Send
This E-mail To Someone To Make Them Smile.

It's Called Therapy

I am supposed to blog frequently here, or the account might be deleted.  This blog is simply a writing to avoid that.  It's summer time and for some reason that means BUSY.  One thing that I am grateful for is that I have nothing of real importance to share with anyone.  This blog was originally begun to help keep family and friends informed of the day to day health reports on Grandma Foreman.  Praise God that we are all well and I have not the need to post those types of messages.

Hoping you all are being showered with blessings...

Just in case you have come to my blog to see if what you've heard is true, I wanted to set the record straight for everyone by announcing that LESTER IS WELL!

There was rumor around our home town that my uncle Lester was in a vehicle accident.  This is not true.  There was an accident which involved a vehicle similar to his, but NOT his. 

But, your prayers are needed for the family and friends of Alicia Istre who was killed in a vehicle accident.  May the angels of God lift them and carry them with comfort and peace through this difficult time of mourning their loved one.

Have you ever heard the phrase, "Be careful what you pray for"?