Around thirty writers, including myself, have contributed to this collection of stories, anecdotes, and poems to make an inspiring book. God is in the miracle business!
The book is in its final phases of publication and, if God wills it, will be available around the last week of August or the first week of September. Our publisher is Genesis Publishing House in Oklahoma. It will be available through Amazon and Barnes and Noble. As soon as possible, you will be able to purchase your personal copy. Or, you may want to read it on an e-reader.
However, I do need your email address. Alternatively, there are several book events if you want to show up.
Date TBA – reception/book signing, Gallman Baptist Church, Gallman, MS.
Date TBA – book launch – B-town Restaurant, Bolton, MS – a Thursday evening, Dutch treat.
September 19 – time to be determined – Magee Library, Magee, MS.
September 20 – Mendenhall Library, Mendenhall, MS, 1-4 p.m.
If you want to suggest an alternate site, email or call me. We can work together to set it up.
I need your help in getting this book recognized and in the hands of avid readers. Promote the book link to your friends on your social media accounts. I don’t yet have the link but will be in touch when I get it.
Around thirty writers, including myself, have contributed to this collection of stories, anecdotes, and poems to make an inspiring book. God is in the miracle business!
The book is in its final phases of publication and, if God wills it, will be available around the last week of August or the first week of September. Our publisher is Genesis Publishing House in Oklahoma. It will be available through Amazon and Barnes and Noble. As soon as possible, you will be able to purchase your personal copy. Or, you may want to read it on an e-reader.
However, I do need your email address. Alternatively, there are several book events if you want to show up.
Date TBA – reception/book signing, Gallman Baptist Church, Gallman, MS.
Date TBA – book launch – B-town Restaurant, Bolton, MS – a Thursday evening, Dutch treat.
September 19 – time to be determined – Magee Library, Magee, MS.
September 20 – Mendenhall Library, Mendenhall, MS, 1-4 p.m.
If you want to suggest an alternate site, email or call me. We can work together to set it up.
I need your help in getting this book recognized and in the hands of avid readers. Promote the book link to your friends on your social media accounts. I don’t yet have the link but will be in touch when I get it.
CURRENT: Works in progress BATTLES-GLIMPSES OF TRUTH
Richer? How a dog has made my life richer? You’ve got to be kidding!
First off, there was the animal rescue fee for doing all of the preliminary vet work and feeding and housing. That fee, while not enough to pay a bill on the monthly mortgage, did at least cover future fixing.
Then there is all the stuff—large crate/cage, toys, bed, food—still a small price to pay for the love she showed. There was less material richness, but…
Love!
She loved me so much that she wanted to eat the bras and lingerie I wore and at least one shoe of every matching pair. If I had known two one-legged women who wore my size 9-1/2, I could have outfitted them with good shoes—no stilettos, mind you. My age and girth had eliminated my desire for torture, but good, serviceable Mary Janes took up considerable area on the floor of the closet, all nicely displayed in puppy-reachable magnificence Yes, she added space to my side of the closet. My better half, Charles, lost only the strap on one of his crocs.
She taught me so much about self-discipline.
If Lady were quiet, I learned to search throughout the house, find where she was hiding, and attempt to wrest from her my once-treasured object. If not treasured, it was needed. She taught me to be ready to go outside at a moment’s or bark’s notice. The self-discipline came in when I eliminated the quick trips by scheduling myself for regular excursions. I found myself staying outside more than previously.
However, let it be known, Lady also saved me from the expense of psychiatric treatment. I had not wanted to retire disabled at the young age of 59 from my teaching career. I had several physical difficulties pushing my decision for a psychiatric referral—mainly I didn’t know what to do with myself and was not in good shape from the late-onset muscular dystrophy that invaded my life and severely threatened to take away most of my public identity.
Yes, I needed a psychiatrist. As a family therapist, part of our code of ethics requires that we seek help when we sense the need. I had come to realize I was not handling my life situation with poise and purpose.
Plus, I was lonely: I was not teaching English to 120 students; most of my friends were working, and Charles was out of the house at his job. My family practice had been limited by other duties for the previous seven years. What was I to do?
Active in church, many of my formerly easy activities were closed! If I walked even short distances with a walker, I fell. Trips shopping were fraught with danger—have you ever counted the number of steps to get from the parking lot’s designated disabled parking spaces to the store itself? Well, neither had I, but there were too many for safety. Muscle fatigue caused my knees to give way.
I had been more human doing than human being.
Entertaining myself with household cleaning or yardwork were no longer options as my need to hold onto a walker increased.
The psychiatrist’s office was slow in calling me for an appointment. With a spark of wisdom, I decided to become a dog caretaker. At that time, we did not have a local animal rescue center.
So, I called the nearest one in a town thirty miles away. I explained our situation. The rescue facility manager described what I needed. “We have a small, sedate, older dog of eight. She has been here most of her life. She has enough poodle in her to prevent shedding.”
She sounded like the ideal dog. She would move into our house and respond to the love we would lavish on her. She would be an undemanding companion, someone to talk with throughout the day.
Yes, we had a plan.
I am sorry to say that dog had no interest in us. We visited her cage and she was aloof, not the instant friend I had expected. We made the trip to visit, not get, a dog on the Saturday before Easter. I did not at the time think I was one of those persons who was attracted to the “next bright and shiny object.”
However, there was a three-month old puppy who immediately fell in love with me that day—never mind, that the person who regularly fed her was behind me as this beguiling tawny pup with the white ruff around her neck threw herself into the wire, standing on hind legs in her attempt to reach me and shower me with love.
Charles had fallen for a hound-looking dog; I think it was a Catahoula. But, I insisted on the pup the rescuers had named Taylor. The grunyons (aka grand young ones) renamed her Lady-well, many other names, but we likedLady better than Buttercup and Buttermilk.
I succumbed, and all reason and logic flew out the metal doors of the barn-like building. No, we had not made any purchases to ready our dog for her new environment. No, we were just looking, not shopping. No, we or I had lost sight of any wisdom. I ignored the advice of looking at the dog’s paws to tell how large the animal would grow to be. Hers were large—but she loved me, and this lonely woman needed the exuberant affection.
I was convinced there would be a queue of people coming in later on this late Saturday evening to claim this particular brown-eyed lass. The only thing to do was to get her today. As I remember it, my husband assured me we could come back after the weekend. My heart and need for self-indulgent immediate gratification pushed me toward saying, “We’ll save money on gas, and we can stop at Walmart to get supplies. Let’s take her today.” This appealed to Charles’s frugal nature and his willingness to please me.
Her squirming body and energetic yelps as we loaded her into the car should have alerted me, she was more dog than I could handle. I was not paying attention; I was still in the throes of puppy love. We stopped at the local Walmart where un-named by us Taylor eliminated some of the cash in Charles’ wallet and enriched him with more space there. Meanwhile, Taylor had been so rambunctious that she enriched my trousers with some of her not-quite-digested dog chow and my nasal passages with some of that delectable scent of eau- de-dog puke.
I was still besotted, and those mild inconveniences did not faze me. Soon, we were on to further training of the lass we renamed Lady. I was busy at this new teaching/learning arrangement when I heard the phone ringing. I answered. The voice on the other end stated she was calling to set up my psychiatric visit. I thanked her and explained I had found my purpose. “Tell the doctor he has been replaced by a puppy.” Her chuckle made my day.
Shine. One word, a complete sentence-imperative or commanding. It is a biblical commandment. If God commands it, it means living it out behaviorally is possible. If he says to do it, we can do it.
He created each of us as an individual, and the individual requirements for us differ. God did not make us carbon copies of each other as Christians, but he does want us to become more Christ-like. Would we then be more like other Christians if we become more Christ-like?
Do we have to leave personalities to be more Christ-like? What do you thank happened to the early disciples? Did careful Thomas become more bold and adventurous like Peter? Did quietly loving John become a money counter, the role of Matthew in his earlier life? What about Paul as he gave up the name Saul?
If you’re familiar with these Biblical examples, you are aware that God takes our personalities as they are as he created us and uses them. Maybe I wanted to be the quietly listening, devoted Mary but I am still trying to have the busy, active, have-to-get-my-attention-to-get-me-to-be-still, Martha.
I am fun and funny; at times, serious. I like attention and I become envious when others receive more attention than I do. Some of this goes back to my family of origin where I was the youngest in the family. Not only was I the youngest, I was the youngest of eight. Words became both a weapon and a defense for me. In physical strength, there was no way to best those older than I. My short, stubby legs did not have the ability to outrun others. I don’t remember terribly well, but in those early years I probably often learned to say,” You better quit. I’m gonna tell Mama.”
Like most of my siblings, I liked school and learning, and I made good grades. I learned early obedience to doing what I was told to do. However, my inward behavior did not match my outward behavior. In our dysfunctional authoritarian family, there was no opportunity to rebel or question or even to show anger. Just because an attitude is not shown on the outside does not mean it is not on the inside.
There was a spark of the rebel in me. Unfortunately, there still is. My friend Juanita says God uses the spicy me I was before I gave my heart and life to Jesus He is the one who has to work on the inner me. There was a very popular children’s Christian song of my girls when they were small that had these words: “He’s still working on me.” Yes, he is. There are several areas for he continues to be actively engaged in this not-yet-finished Christian.
“So let your light shine that others may see your good
Look at the trees, anchored down firmly, held in place by gravity and by God’s plan.
I confess to watching reality TV shows. I have been noting a trend in some of them, where a hunter kills an animal, places a hand on the animal, and says, “Thank you.” Often there will be a further comment, sometimes a voiceover, which states appreciation for the deer’s giving its life.
Do I say thank you to the iron skillet for frying the loin pieces for my dinner? Do I say thank you to the fork for bringing the food to my mouth? Do I thank the hand that holds the fork for participating in feeding me?
Of course not. I thank the true source, our God who provides all things good. There are many things that we take for granted. I woke up feeling grateful today and began to think of the things and people and events I take for granted. The list is innumerable. For instance, gravity.
Just imagine you start to fall, a too-frequent occurrence for someone with a muscular dystrophy. We can be thankful for falling down to the floor or ground instead of floating away out of sight. I don’t like falling down, but today I’m thankful for gravity.
The child of a young friend of mine recently got into legal trouble, was found guilty, and sentenced to years in a correctional facility. I could be judgmental and thankful that it was my friend and not me. Yet, I feel sad that this event happened. I feel grateful that he is given the opportunity to learn from his mistakes and maybe change the course of his life.
God is to be praised in all circumstances. It sounds a little Pollyanna-ish, but I have reached the age to realize God’s hand is at work if we don’t see it and that “these things happen so that [His] child may learn.” Even when we. don’t understand, we can praise God for his wisdom and His all-surpassing knowledge reatly exceeding our own.
I am grateful for answered prayer; I’m grateful for the answers already on their way before I even voice my prayers.
I am grateful for the visit from an old friend, a former student, who shared some venison sausage with us. Note I’m grateful to God for these things, not to the deer for sacrificing his life.
As this month of Thanksgiving ends, one way of finding joy in our lives is that of being grateful. Practice the presence of God by saying thank you. You become more aware of his actions in your life. If you come to recognize his hand, you will begin to see his heart.
When I was a teenager, growing up in a small Iowa town, I was a reader, and I was a writer, but it never once occurred to me to write a novel. Novels were big things that other people wrote. Adults. People who lived in New York City. People who had gone to war or lived exotic lives. I wrote in my journal, and I wrote the occasional poem or short story, but writing something as big and ambitious as a novel just wasn’t something teens did.
So, it’s interesting to me now when I talk to kids and teens who have participated in National Novel Writing Month’s Young Writers Program. I hear how they have written five, six, or seven novels—and sometimes even published one or two of them. I see a glow of accomplishment in their eyes. I see a zeal to create on the page and…
As Christians, we are concerned about appearances needlessly. If we are doing the righteous things for righteous reasons, we have no need to concern ourselves how the activity appears to others. We are the message. Yes, we want our Message of Jesus’ grace to be forefront, uppercase, bold print, in whatever color is most visible, but we are intended to shine.
Shine in the ways we think
Shine in the ways we act
Shine in our confessions of failure
Shine in our honesty and integrity.
It’s not a NewYear’s Resolution, but a reminder to do those things we were left on Earth after our salvation to do. So,
Many of my ‘Challenges & Adventures’ from this year have been large undertakings which require a lot of planning, training and dedication. Although reflecting on these projects is profoundly rewarding, it doesn’t take much to notice that these were largely based on endurance rather than enjoyment. Of course enjoyment has also been a factor, but in the moment its hard to enjoy something that really tests and pushes your body and minds capabilities whilst battling everything that mother nature has to throw at you.
I felt it was time to take things back to basics, so within five minutes had thought up a plan for a microadventure! The plan was to cycle the perimeter of Cannock Chase, a beautiful AONB near to where I live. The trip would take two days and best of all, it would include my best friend and partner in crime Wolfred, my one year old Jack Russell & Shi Tzu…
Look at the trees, anchored down firmly, held in place by gravity and by God’s plan.
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