MORE WISE WORDS

 Just sharing a truth from this morning's devotion:

"Fair weather faith is not faith at all."

My mind processed that and I realized it was truth.

Consider....

COVID LESSONS

Ah, yes, another learning time for me....uh huh, covid abode in my body.  I will say that on my day 8, I'm FINALLY feeling more normal.  My covid actually came on the heels of my two sinus infections in three months so I think the residual now is the covid symptoms aggravating the faulty sinuses.  So, in a nutshell, from my neck up, I feel normal.  I have seen an allergist in the past couple of weeks pre-covid and found that I'm allergic to nothing.  Nothing.  So next stop is an ENT to find out what kind of fault is in my sinuses.  Now that covid has come and almost gone, my fine watery left eye is again red and watery.  Did I say I had a partially blocked tear duct before the first sinus infection of the past three months?  In case I didn't, the opthomologist put his ice pick looking gizmo in the corner of my eye and probed and then washed all that out with a syringe attached to a small tube.  Not fun.  So here I am again, looking all watery in the left eye and feeling still pretty weak.   It was me, my Lysol and my Covid for a few days,

So for lessons....hmmmm...

I got the covid directly from my dad whom I took to the doctor ten days ago because he called me panicked because he was real sick.  At doctor's office he tested positive for covid.  Uh huh.  I actually was around him the day before that as I had to take my mom for labs and that was a very long long stressful day and I was interacting with my dad during part of it.  And did I say?  My mom came down with it two days later and I came down with it two days and twelve hours later.  My parents quarantined in their room at their assisted living home.  So I learned what I knew already and you might not know, so I will share.  NO GOOD DEED GOES UNPUNISHED.

I quarantined in my small bedroom.  No, I don't live in a large house but just big enough.  The Good Husband moved my 25+ year old recliner to the bedroom and I spent 4 days there.  Sick.  Again, I knew this but was reminded.....MANY 25+ YEAR OLD RECLINERS ARE THE MOST COMFORTABLE. 

There were multiple calls for me from the medical people at my parents' home.  Problems to be addressed and managed from home, but I endured.  AGING PARENTS ARE REALLY NOT GONNA CHANGE ATTITUDES.  IT IS WHAT IT IS, EVEN IF YOU ARE SICK, TOO.

After I got past day 5, I was certain I was on the upward swing.  Then on day 7, I felt terrible again.  DON'T GET COCKY TOO QUICK.  SENIOR ADULTS CAN TAKE LONGER TO RECOVER WHEN THEY REACH SENIOR STATUS...OR AT LEAST SOME CAN.

I am very weak still and will still need a nap or two but I do know that I am grateful for a good husband who has been caring for me and very patient.  It's easy to be when you are rooms apart but even lately since I'm back in the "real' part of the house, he sees and pays attention to the fact that I am not my normal looking self.  Boy, I must look really scary.  GOOD HUSBANDS ARE A BLESSING.

As I didn't get to go to church yesterday as I planned to do....was gonna sit in the back alone, masked....I watched online and heard a wonderful song service and sermon.  Normally, we all have our favorite songs and a lot of older people enjoy "In the Garden" and I don't dislike it at all, it's just not one I sing when my heart sings.  Yesterday it was led as a congregational song and as I sat in my kitchen recliner with the computer in my lap, watching and listening, something about that song made my already sinus watery eyes water more and fall on my cheeks while my already snotty nose got snottier....and I didn't even mind.  It said, "And He walks with me and He talks with me and He tells me I am his own.  And the joys we share as we tarry there, none other has ever known."  Sweet.

The sermon was given by one of our much loved and much humble ex-pastors.  I missed seeing him in person but I loved the message with the title of "ALL".  He said a lot that I won't go into but he did quote a scripture that I loved that comes from Paul's writings in one of my favorite NT letters, Philippians 4:8 and it goes like this, ".....whatsoever things are pure,  whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report.....think on these things".  That's great advice.

So another week begins.  In our house, we are washing hands, covering mouths, and working to a full recovery eventually.  You wash and cover and stay away from Covid.  It's a booger.

Consider..... 

OLD SPOONS

I have not always had my obsession with old spoons.  I acquired this obsession a few years back when The Mother-In-Law moved to heaven.  As some of her goods were being shared among her children, I found myself looking at a small spoon and couldn't seem to get away from it.  It was a simple spoon and had "Kennestone Hospital"  etched on the end of the handle.  Now since The MIL birthed five babies and had numerous kidney stones with all babies acquired and kidney stones un-acquired at Kennestone Hospital, I was somehow drawn to this spoon.  She either came by it honestly....or not so much.  Either way, you guessed it!  That spoon is now mine.  Not only that but when I eat my oatmeal in the mornings, it's one of the two spoons I use.  Somehow it just makes me happy.  Guess it doesn't take much in this season of life to make me happy.  

Now we fast forward several years.  The Mother knew of my obsession with old spoons and I found one in her silverware drawer.  The Mother and The MIL were a bit different.  The Mother had many more spoons than the MIL.  The Mother just enjoyed buying things and silverware was not exception.  Knowing my "obsession" with spoons, The Mother told me I could have it.  I gladly took it and now I interchange it with The MIL's spoon when I eat my oatmeal.  It's a tradition for me.  Maybe it keeps me in touch with my very loved MIL. 

A few months later, The Mother asked me if I would like to have an old box of silverware of her mama's.  Of course, I said yes and brought it home to live in my china cabinet drawer.    I began to think of those this morning as I ate my oatmeal with the Kennestone Hospital spoon and felt compelled to share.

Here's the goods I have:

The MIL's spoon is on the far right, The Mother's are the other three.  Look at those!  Aren't they beautiful?  The next photo is the wonderful box that the set of silverware is kept.  The silverware doesn't match but I don't care.  Notice that the set is a 24 piece service for 6.   Then notice how the silverware is described....highly polished, longer wearing, needs no polishing, and non corroding.  Now I was thinking that this silverware is probably 100 years old, at least.  It was described as "smart" and "serviceable".  And look at that home economics consultant....wasn't she classy looking?  

I thought of all the times, obviously from the age and use of these, that a family was fed.  Most likely fed food that was grown and processed by the parents.  The times of these humble people were hard times.  This silverware was prized.  How do I know this?  Because the box is still in magnificent shape and probably housed the treasures.  

In the bottom of the box was a guarantee.  Not only a guarantee, but a fancy looking guarantee,

So all this is well and good, you might say, but where is she going with this?  I was thinking of commonalities that I can have with this silverware.  There are many but one is I want to stand the test of time successfully.  Yep.  I want to not corrode and shine with a shine that is a positive joy.  Yep, that's part of it.  

I offer you food for thought in this post.  So enjoy the thought food.  You might even look in the "silverware drawer of your spirit" and eat the food with one of those spoons.  The taste is endlessly delicious!  It's guaranteed.....

Consider.....

WISE WORDS

 I listened to The Son-In-Law's Sunday School lesson he taught last Sunday online today.  It was an exceptionally good lesson.  There was one quote I felt like was a great one to share on this blog.  It goes like this:

"God's delays are not God's denials."

Ponder that one for a bit of time.

PROCESS ACCEPTANCE

A longtime faithful neighbor of mine was sent home from a hospital visit last week on hospice.  She has been very sick since the Covid era.  I spoke to one of her daughters after she was released to come back home and what the future held for her and their family.    Knowing we all have the same promise of tomorrow, it would appear that her move to heaven would be closer than some others.  The daughter, who was a mere child who always smelled the cookies baking at my house when The Husband and I married and moved here, told me that the doctors told her mom it was time to "process acceptance". 

That really hit me when put that way.  Process acceptance.  Yes, I can see the necessity of that at The Neighbor's season of life now.  As I thought about it, I see that necessity for all of us in various areas.  As an adult child of aging, discontented parents,  I think my greatest challenge and painful thing is the fact that neither of them accept where they are at this season of their lives.  They want to be like they were thirty years ago.  Well most of us probably would want that as well, however, when I considered where I was thirty years ago, it was not so pretty.....a wife and mother in her late thirties struggling to live with a newly diagnosed connective tissue disease.  I recalled having to have help just getting out of bed and getting dressed in the morning.  Yes, I still have that disease but am grateful for remission as well as a desire to learn to live with it and not let that dictate my life.  I had to process acceptance of that disease.

We actually have to process acceptance of things on a daily basis totally not related to health.  There's all the inflation, finances, crime, bad decisions....the list goes on and on.  I will even go as far to say as we have to process acceptance of forgiveness to ourselves and to others. 

One of the most memorable prayers of peace I have of my lifetime is this one by St. Francis of Assisi:

"Lord grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, wisdom to change the things I can, and courage to know the difference." 

To that, I will say, "Amen and Amen".

Consider....

DISTRACTIONS AND DELIGHTS

On Monday of this week, The Poppa and I did our babysitting gig.  I might rephrase that, I did my babysitting gig.  The Grandbaby arrived for her breakfast of champions--muffin, yogurt, and Oreo O's cereal.  I had no idea what this kind of cereal was but after tasting it, it tastes like Oreo cookies in milk.   I don't know what a champion winning addition to the breakfast of champions that is, but by golly, The Grandbaby cleaned her breakfast plate. 

I received an email which merited that I change my credit card number on an online site so I took care of that.

The Poppa went along with his work while The Grandbaby and I decided we needed a trip to Walmart.  The Grandbaby made a list for us on the way so we were well equipped to begin shopping and not linger too long.  The list worked well, we got all of the goods (and there were many) and piled them into the small cart that The Grandbaby drove around the store for me.  Such a delight is The Grandbaby and as she is growing, such a helper.  

We got to the checkout and after all that shopping, decided to use the regular checker-outer-person instead of self-checkout.  We worked together to unload the mega goods.  The transaction was finished, I reached into my purse to get my case with my credit card, and there was NO case with credit card.  Remember paragraph 2 in this post?  I knew exactly where it was and it was not in my purse in the store.  I told the cashier that I had left my credit card at home but I had a checkbook, I could write a check.    But, alas, my ID was in my case with my credit card and I never write a check so I am NOT in the system.  I looked down at The Grandbaby and she was taking all this in big time.  She said very wisely, "NEEMA, even my mama doesn't leave her credit card at home!  And you sure are sweating, Neema!"   Gee, thanks!  As the cashier put a bag in my cart, she said, "I've done this more than once.  Don't feel bad."  At that point, I called The Poppa who was able to bring us the card tho not without his male snide remarks, then we had to go to self check to check out the whole bunch of mega goods again as the cashier couldn't suspend my transaction, but had to abhort it.  The Grandbaby and I worked together in that self checkout.  She is growing so well and is so helpful, did I say that already?  

One of the items "we" bought at the store was a pair of canvas sneakers.  The Grandbaby had asked to decorate a pair and we had not found any that were suitable.  Well, it was a delightful day to find a pair so we bought them.  The Grandbaby again wisely said, "I'm glad I could help you remember, Neema.  I think my rememberer is better than yours."  Duh.  The Grandbaby decorated those shoes after lunch and was absolutely thrilled.  You would think I had given her the moon.

Lest you think the delights of the day were over, think again.  I had learned how to make balloon columns and liked the process so much that I had ordered an electrical balloon inflator.  After the shoes were done, I taught her how to make the columns.  She has been so thrilled that we may make balloon columns often, just like Pollyanna with the prisms in her movie.  We may have balloons everywhere!

So it was a day that began with distractions but became a delightful day.  That is until I realized all the delights caused me to be too distracted to remember to put the ribs for supper into the oven so supper was late.  Ah well, it's the price one much pay when one is so very artsy and creative, don't you think?  Maybe my rememberer is in trouble......

THE LOOK OF 45 YEARS

On June 29, 1979, I married my prince....or as you blog readers know him, The Husband.  We will celebrate with an early supper at one of our favorite seafood restaurants,  In remembering, our most notable celebration was a decorated brownie on an Alaska tour boat in front of a huge glacier.  Yeah, that was a memorable one but in the grand scheme of life, they all "look" good and are full of gratitude.

45 years looks like....

2340 weeks

16,425 days

394,200 hours

23,652,000 minutes and..

too many seconds for my calculator to count and too many for my mind to comprehend.

Forty-five years looks like a lot of sickness, a lot of health, a lot of better, and a lot of worse.  It looks like joy and sorrow, fear and fearless, happy and sad, and many emotions unnamed.  It also looks like a lot of endurance and strength.

Back in 1979, cars were different, groceries were cheaper, and wages less.  Yes, we had days of struggle in a lot of areas.  We still do.  At that beginning season, we were young and foolish--heck, some days we still are foolish but in this season I like to think the both of us are older and wiser.  The older is a certainty.  We drop something on the floor and look at each other to see who will try to pick it up and if we are smart, one of us will grab the grabber to make it easy.  Our hairs are grayer--especially the hair of The Husband, but I'm vastly approaching the gray-er.  We are more in tune with what life is holding and concern for one another excels.  Retirement has held less time apart which is okay some days....other days, we need to do things alone.  We are together most of the time now, with that said, and we really do all right with that.  Most days. 

Time in between now and then has been filled with blessings of The Girl, The Son-in-Law, and The Grandbaby.  They have enhanced our lives to the fullest.  Hard times of aging have also come, but the Lord provides.

Then....

now....

and all the joy in between....

In case you wondered, I would make the same choices all over again.  Blessed beyond measure.

LESSONS IN THE ORDINARY

On Sunday night, The Grandbaby spent the night.  Since Monday is the typical day for our babysitting gig with her, it worked well.  And, before we blink really good, summer will be over and school will have begun again.  

The Son-in-Law, The Girl, and The Grandbaby have a vacation planned for their fall break as they have done in years past.  The Grandbaby was saying the things she would enjoy on this trip and as we all know, fun ain't free.  I suggested to her that she help me organize on Monday while she was here and I would pay her so she could begin to have a stash for some of the "fun" she would like to do.  Being the wonderful organizer that she is (no, that trait did not come from her mama's side of the family), she was quite happy to agree to that.  The Poppa, The Grandbaby, and I agreed on Sunday night of a reasonable (okay, so I'm a Neema....maybe I'm a bit unreasonable) wage for this job she would do.    Let me tell you, she did work very hard helping me clean out that closet.  These days when I don't bend well to pick up things off the floor, her labors were very much needed.  She didn't complain but continued to do as I asked.  

In the midst of the work, she found The Girl's old bathrobe that The Girl wore when they were about the same age.  Along with this, she found HUGE Goofy houseslippers and a beautiful leopard design fleece hat.  Here, let me provide a visual:

Take a good look at that smile.  You would have thought The Grandbaby had been given the moon.  She wore that getup for the whole afternoon--yes, it was 100 degrees outside but thankfully air-conditioned inside.  She absolutely loved it and according to her, she never got a bit hot.  She asked to take them home and I agreed with the stipulation that she not wear the Goofy shoes on her stairs.   That would be a terrible fall if that happened and she agreed.  Yes, an old vintage quilted coral colored robe with pick ups on the outside and "pills" on the inside made for joy beyond compare to an 8 year old.  She was happier with those three items than she was her wages for the work.  Yes, just an ordinary thing but so important to her because "they were my mama's".  

Today I went for a doctor's appointment.   For myself.  Alone in the car.  It was quite the novelty as most of my doctor's visits are for and with others.  I got in traffic, of course, and was stopped in the road where  a sidewalk ran parallel.  I was stopped quite a while.  I noticed a dad and his three children biking the sidewalk in the same direction I was going.  I would ease ahead of them and then they eased ahead of me.  As I noted them, all four were wearing helmets, the older two were leading their line, and the dad and the youngest child were riding side by side.  The youngest child was maybe four or so and just getting used to no training wheels on her small little bike.  As they got ahead of me and I sat there, I noticed the dad was riding the same speed as the littlest one and he constantly had his hand around her upper arm in case she began to fall.  It was such a beautiful thing to see. (I was also impressed by his ability to multitask so very well.). Granted you don't ordinarily see the dad and the kids at 9:45 in the morning on a weekday but it still was somewhat ordinary.  I was shown the care of the dad while he cared for his kids.  Of course, all you blog readers of mine know that led me to thoughts of Jesus who always seems to have a hand on me to guide.  

I barely got to my appointment on time and it took a while there.  I see The PA in the practice and have done for years.  Often these days doctors are just plain in and out and be done with it.   The PA is a keeper.   Today as we talked through some things, I was able to see more of her compassion and kindness for her patients.  I guess I realized the extent of her kind concern when I looked in her eyes.  I'm going to be honest here, often I can't tell emotions by eyes.  Today I could.  They were eyes of caring and eyes of loving what she does.  It was a blessing and a lesson in really caring.

These three situations have much of the ordinary in them but if you look very very closely, you will find the extraordinary in every situation.  It takes both the ordinary and the extraordinary to show us sometimes how miraculous life really is.  

Consider....

THE BEST OF DOCTORS

 In the past three years or so, I've "retired" five or so doctors.  I made the statement that I need younger doctors.  There is much truth to that statement as the doctors that retired in my life were mostly my age which, when I calculate these days, ain't young.  

Of course, the doctor for whom I cried the most, literally, was my much loved 30+ year family doctor.  She told me I was her longest patient as I was the first that still remained after she moved here way back in the dark ages.  She was one of those who always had time to listen, she cared about everything that affected me and then some, and her knowledge and methods were unconventional and successful.  I am blessed to still talk to her fairly regularly as I was happy to receive her cell number when she offered.  She will call or text to say "how's it going, just thinking of you" and if the response is a "not as good as I want", she will call and say "tell me about it".   She is the doctor who STILL cautions me of the terrible affects that stress has on my body and still can remind me that "they (the ones in charge) almost let me die back in 2017 before my first major adhesion surgery.  She also tells me to please be paranoid about that aspect of my health as it can go bad really fast and she likes me.  Yes, a very good doctor, one of the best.  She has also always been one of The Girl's "team" since her diabetes diagnosis (see yesterday's post).  In fact this much loved doctor was the one who, on that very bad day of June 21, 1991, did the pricking of The Girl's finger to test the sugar as I had taken The Girl to that particular office.  She is also the wise one who looked me straight in the eye as if to say, "Don't fall apart on me here."    Out loud she said to me, "I will stay here and talk to The Girl while you go in my office and regroup yourself as you need to take her to the children's hospital."  I slowly, zombie-like did what she said and we made it that week as we learned what we needed to know to live thirty-three years and beyond with Type I Juvenile Diabetes.  Yes, a very good doctor.

So with that said, there was irony in the timing of word send to the girl a couple of days ago that her beloved endocrinologist is retiring.  This news brought The Girl to tears--and it takes a lot to do that.  She's pretty strong most days.  The Endocrinologist has been her doctor for 25 of the 33 years of diabetes.  The Girl began with the pediatric endocrinologists at that children's hospital but when she graduated high school, we had to change to an adult version.   Now you might think that this was not a problem to change.  Not so.  The Girl is so loyal to those doctors who help her in her every day life.  I researched and found The Endocrinologist and went with her to her first appointment.  He had the reputation of being one of the very best in the big city.   It was NOT a good day.  The Girl did NOT care for him at all.  It was not a fun appointment but I as a mama had determined he was the one she needed so I made her next appointment at the designated three month mark.  You see, back in this day, one saw The Endocrinologist four times a year.  The second visit rolled around and it was still not good.  The Girl was having trouble adjusting to a different personality and he, in turn, didn't know her well.  I remember at this appointment as he stood by the examining table and they were not communicating, saying,"Okay, Girl and Doctor....listen.  Girl, I want you to have the best endocrinologist around and I have heard that this doctor is it.  Doctor, this girl knows diabetes and tries hard.  I want her to have the best and that's you so you need to listen to her.  The both of you MUST form a good relationship for this to work and I intend for it to work."  Somehow from that moment on, it worked. 

The relationship not only worked but they became great friends.  He advised well.  He listened well.  He cared well...and not only about the diabetes but about all that affected The Girl.  More importantly, she KNEW he cared.  He was present and always available during the high risk of the pregnancy and they would talk at length on the phone after hours about the pregnancy and how to keep on track.  When she was induced, he was the doctor who spent a couple of hours at 2 a.m. just going over specifics with her and the nursing staff.  They thought he was a rock star of a doctor.  And he was.  During postpartum issues, he would call randomly in the middle of the day just to check on The Girl.  He didn't have a staff member do that, he did it because he wanted to know how she was doing.  There just ain't many like him these days.  

So yes, I actually cried too at the news of his retirement even when The Girl said, "He has to be YOUR age, Mama."  Duh.  The Girl also spoke truth when she said she cried when she had to begin going to him and now she was crying because she can't go to him anymore.  Isn't that how life is?  Such a myriad of opposites are we humans!  I do plan to express my written appreciation to The Endocrinologist for his care of my girl.  He is a treasure. 

As I pondered The Endocrinologist's practice and what he and it has meant to my family, I actually realized something.  He is a bit of akin to my relationship with Jesus.  Jesus and I are great friends.  Jesus advises me well.  Jesus listens well.  Jesus cares well and I will say that Jesus LOVES well.  He's there in the hard times when there is fear.  Jesus is always present and available.  Jesus could be said to even be a rock star of a Heavenly Father...so so good at what He does.   Jesus is a treasure.  The difference is that Jesus will never retire and will always be around and with me and those I love as He will with you if you are HIS child.

While the search for a new medical team leader might not be so easy, I am assured the Lord will provide the right one for The Girl.  After all, Jesus is The Great Physician, knows his colleagues well, and will guide and provide.  And that gives confidence to The Girl and to me.  

Consider....

THIRTY-THREE JUNE 21's!

 Here we are again on June 21.....a celebration of this blog but most of all the celebration of the inspiration FOR this blog!  I hope you have enjoyed the writings since June 21, 2012 and I hope I can continue more regularly in the future.

Today marks 33, yes count 'em, 33 years since the diagnosis of The Girl's diagnosis of Type 1 Juvenile Diabetes.  As I have voiced over and over on the past twelve June 21 posts, it was a life changer for the whole family, but most of all for the girl.  Life then for a ten year old held challenges of a ten year old AND her parents.  The years since have seen seasons of challenges of the life of The Girl as she has met new seasons of her growing life.  Today finds her a blessed wife, mama, daughter, daughter-in-law, sister-in-law, aunt, and friend but most of all today finds her a faithful child of her Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.  

In the last few months, The Girl has become the owner of a new insulin pump to help her live with her disease.  It is the kind of pump that dictates that she wear the glucose sensor on her arm.  In the summer.  With sleeveless clothes.  Her arm is small and the sensor is not small but she wears it without a prideful thought.   Okay, maybe there's a prideful thought or two.   (I almost wish my Type 2 diabetes would allow me to wear one as well but one must take insulin and I don't.).  The Girl has taken opportunities to do numerous research trials on sensors and tapes and has worn two in each arm at the same time for over a couple of weeks continually....just to aid in research.   Yes, pumps and sensors and such has made diabetes control easier on a daily basis.  Do they mean that nothing happens amiss?  No, they don't.  Everything can go awry on occasion but the knowledge The Girl has been taught has allowed her to control her disease.  

As I have said often, the disease belongs to The Girl.  Success of the control of the disease also belongs to the girl, however, many supporting cast members are needed.  Yes, The Husband and I tried hard all those years before she "grew up", The Son-In-Law is a gift from the heavenly Father and supports and aids, and The Grandbaby is learning about diabetes.  Numerous doctors, especially The Wonderful Endocrinologist (more about him in the next post), are members of her diabetes "team".  

Gratitude doesn't quite seem enough but a heart full of thanks to the Heavenly Father for HIS provision in dealing with what could have been a devastating diagnosis goes on and on...so so grateful.    I will say as I have said many times on this very blog, The Girl gets the credit under the Heavenly Father.  She could have kicked and screamed and said "Why ME?"  Instead she lives with grace and joy as she says, "Why NOT me?"

To say I am proud of The Girl is as I have said so many times is an understatement.  She is a joy, a delight, a living example of humbleness, and a woman of whom I am so very proud.  I am blessed to be her mama and I am sure her daddy feels the same about his blessed role!  

These words hang on the wall above my desk:

"What ultimately MATTERS is not the size of our mountains, but the STRENGTH of our MOUNTAIN MOVER."

I like that, don't you?