Great Grandmother Stays at Home - praying.....

Sometimes, it just seems too much.
Sometimes, it just seems like praying is not enough.
Sometimes, it just seems.... just sooo hard.

Of course, PRAYING is our best and only defense.

Of course, PRAYING is the thing that must ALWAYS come first.
Before anything else.
In place of any other thing or act.
WITHOUT CEASING.

One of our precious ones lost her father-in-law last week, suddenly, with no warning.
To pneumonia.

Today that same precious one's very own toddler has serious pneumonia.
T E R R I F Y I N G.

Be still and KNOW... and KNOW... that I am God. That I AM that I AM and always have been and forEVER SHALL be.
The Alpha. The Omega. The First. The ONLY.
Still. . . terrifying.

The grandparents are enroute. 
We old ones ---- 'can only' sit. And pray.

We are, Holy Father, just Your human children. We are frail. We do worry. And fret. And toil.
Help us to trust YOU. Help us to remember the lilies of the field and how you made us in Your image.

The world is in trouble, Father. This one touches home. It is real. It is close.

We SHALL NOT be afraid.

        'Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. . . .

         Do not let your hearts be troubled. . .

         and do not be afraid.'

Jesus Himself said that. St. John recorded it for us in John 14:27. I can trust it.

When all I can do is pray, I pray.

Times 29=

      ..... Grandson celebrates a birthday;

      ..... Grandson celebrates a birthday;

      ..... Great Grandson goes to college. For the first time Mom & Dad & Brother at home without him.

      ..... Great Grandson celebrates a birthday (first birthday away at college)

      ..... Granddaughter and Great Grandson tackle 8th grades

      ..... Granddaughters begin new years teaching new classes

      ..... Grandson begins another year in seminary 

      ..... New Jobs; dangerous jobs; old jobs; travel

      ..... New & different situations and challenges

      ..... Brothers, sisters, nieces, nephews, moves, hurts, regrets,

      ..... In-laws to the above

. . . .and the list goes on. For each of us. But at the top of MY list is the one who is the most sick.

And yet . . . we WILL give thanks and rejoice and be glad.

Psalm 40:16

But may all who seek You rejoice and be glad in You; may those who long for Your saving help always say, “The Lord is great!”

And ALL the people said

AMEN and AMEN and AMEN

Liz  

       Because this one great grandmother could ONLY sit and pray.

20 Weeks vs Whose Rights????

Those of you who read my blog—and those of you who know me well—will be surprised at my post today. I seldom take a stand on either side of controversial issues. You can name any current issue and I guarantee you I will have dear friends or precious family members on BOTH sides of that issue.

Perhaps I am wrong, but relationships are far more important to me than arguing about things we will most likely never change.

And you are right: today is an exception.
The issue is summed up at CNN Politics (www.cnn.com/2013/07/03/politics/texas-abortion-battle : "...HB2, a bill that would impose strict new regulations on abortions in the state. The measure seeks to ban abortions past 20 weeks of gestation, mandate abortion clinics to become ambulatory surgical centers, and require doctors who perform abortions to have admitting privileges at a hospital within 30 miles of the clinic at which they're providing abortion services...."
 

For weeks, local television news has reported the bill will deny women their right to choice.

My question: What does 20 weeks have to do with women's rights?

In my mind: absolutely nothing.

 

At about 39 weeks, most full-term babies go—kicking and screaming—into life outside its mommy's safe, nurturing, nourishing womb.

Do the math.

                39

       -        20
               19
Almost HALF.

Might come as a surprise to some who know me, but I am WOMAN.

And, I believe, ABSOLUTELY AND STRONGLY

... in equal pay for equal work (I know firsthand that sometimes women do MORE than their fair share)

 ... that you don't hit me just 'cause you're stronger than me

… it is good for women to be in the pulpit

… that it’s a very good thing when dads take the Mr. Mom shift

 ... that women are smart … (and often smarter than  the average guy. Just sayin…)

... and etc etc and etc

You are also right if you expect a story to explain my hard line on killing babies at 20 weeks.

Long ago in the land of young parenting, in prehistoric 1965, my young husband and I (even younger) were pregnant and thrilled that our five-year-old daughter would soon be a big sister. Happy doesn’t tell it !!!

By my 12th WEEK, I knew. For sure that time. Getting pregnant had not come easily.

I had a history of irregular everythings and a history of not able to keep a baby after about six weeks. Nobody knew for sure or exactly how “far along” I was, but it was agreed I was at least past three months. Which was remarkable. And gave me hope. And I believed that this time - - - -

I knew that our BABY was real and very alive. In another few weeks, our baby moved. The hands of my mother and mother-in-law went immediately to work creating magical baby things.

Then, one day, my belly got quiet. We waited, we prayed, we waited.

NOTHING.

Another day: cramps. Pain. Bleeding.

The third day, full-blown labor.

And tears. Hot, angry, tears that had nothing to do with physical pain.

Tears turned to sobs.

Pain. Hospital. Pain.
Then . . .NOTHING.

In those days, my baby was just “it;” my baby was just a fetus.

                    To everyone but me and my young husband and our parents.

In those days, we did not count by weeks.

In those days, disappointed mommies did not grieve.
In those days, a miscarriage was sad but… just a miscarriage.

My precious mother-in-law sat with me, afterward, for long hours, in the hospital. Quietly.

Once, I saw her tears.
She held my hand and stroked my arm, tenderly, gently.

My heart was ripped out. My body had carried a baby. A real, live, person. My baby had wiggled inside me. It was ALIVE. “It” was only . . .

About FIFTEEN WEEKS old.

Now, you tell me..... Because I don't understand......

Why is it that some folks say:

....... if  a state chooses to protect the LIFE of a real, ALIVE human being at TWENTY WEEKS ...... The state is denying the rights of a woman...... ?????

 20 weeks is more than half way to birth.

I realize that way back in 1965, medical science did not work the miracles with premature babies that it does today. Had I carried my baby just FIVE weeks longer, he could have survived outside my womb.... TWENTY WEEKS.

My baby would be 47 years old this year.

No, I can't second guess God as to why, what -if, if-only.

I only know that on that August afternoon in 1965 in Carlsbad, New Mexico, I lost a REAL life.

One day we will meet in person.

Until then..... I wonder.... 20 weeks ....

....what does that have to do with the rights of a woman?

 That young husband, our little girl, and this young mother had a long, long wait and another “miscarriage.”  But, God did hear our prayers and in 1970 on a bitterly cold January morning in Texas a very LIVE son was born to us. Our Eddy was absolutely worth waiting for and is a pride to our hearts and souls.

For all those babies who don’t live beyond 20 weeks, God will bless you and keep you. Forever.

For all my young friends whose empty arms ache, I pray Psalm 20:4 & 5 with you:

          “May He grant you your heart’s desire, and fulfill all your counsel! We will sing for joy over your victory, and in the name of our God we will set up our banners. May the Lord fulfill all your petitions.”

In love and kindness,

      Liz

No, Never... uhhhhh... well

       I'm at home sick, today. Of course, as an old retired granny, I'm always home, but today I could not take Dear Heart to an out of town doctor's appointment (we deeply THANK his "little brother" for providing assistance). Seems I've got another "upper-respiratory-something" and it's hard to lie down or walk upright so this is a good time to let my fingers do my walking and try to reconnect with good cyber friends.

       It has become apparent in recent months that I've crossed a BROAD line in the sand and that I NOW DO things I promised myself and all of humanity I would NEVER EVER sink to doing.

HA !!!!

1.  WHOSE FEET ARE THOSE ??????????????

 

 

Yeah, those are MY feet

 

So, you ask, what's the problem? Duhhhh.... Liz in SNEAKERS..... and wearing ...... (oh my goodness I can't watch) LOW CUT SOCKS. ???????????

 

2.  It never, ever occurred to me that I would so much as even go to my kitchen in the mornings without perfectly applied make-up???? Worse, LEAVE HOME without makeup??? No matter the time of day, destination, or miscellaneous excuses. NO. NEVER. NO WAY. NOT ME.
No, I am NOT posting a photo.

 

3.  Never in all my years since being about 15 have I GONE ANY PLACE  sans ear rings. Dear Heart has had to turn the car around on one or two occassions I forgot. But.... not this chick or old lady. ('nuff said)

 

       While confession is not necessarily good for my soul, somehow I though it might help me muddle through these--hopefully finalal--days of still recovering from last winter's health ordeals.

       Perhaps my admissions will even encourage ME, MYSELF, and I to get back on my self proclaimed path to

Grow Old Gracefully.

       As long as "we" are fearlessly and honestly sharing . . . . do any of you, my faithful and beautiful readers, have any of your own: Now I'm Doing What I Said I Would Never Do things you want to share ???? If you dare to go bravely into admission, we'll have some fun sharing. Not to worry..... I will NOT include names. Promise.

 

The best part is that my prayer today, for you and for me, is that we will

humbly practice the presence of our holy and loving Father God.

 

L i z 

 

 

 

 



Surprises in our own Back Yard

Things have been busy on our hill, lately. Lots of medical appointments but the restless leg nights are responding to some medication, for a thankful change!!! Sometimes, in the middle of the busy dailyness of living, nature's wonder raises its hand. I am blessed to have noticed and stopped to witness God's hand moving--right here in our own back yard.

One event inspired worshipful quiet.
          The other evoked a first reaction of fear.
                 With both, WONDER followed immediately.
                          The wonder of each was so great, I must share.


       Saturday, June 1 had been one of the good days. When unexpected energy graced me, I made a trip to the grocery store and among other things even got the laundry done. The weather news had not been good, especially for our neighbors to the north in Oklahoma. Devestating, destructive, killer tornados had ravaged life and property for days. As I worked that Saturday, I prayed for Oklahoma. Just before sunset, I went out to bring in my laundry from my "clothes line" on the back porch.

 

Hey, this is a great solution and it works for us !!!

 

 

As I puttered around in the kitchen getting a late and light supper ready, listing to reports of possible bad weather in our area, I noticed clouds building in the west and north. Of course, I HAD to go out for an up-close and personal look.

WOW and OH MY !!!

 

         Absolutely took my breath away. Fortunately, I did not dilly-dally and jerked my handy-dandy phone from the pocket of my capri pants. Aimed and snapped. Probably the most beautiful photograph I have ever taken. The quiet and worshipful thing is that I stood in the presence of the Creator of EVERYTHING, witnessing His art work. The blessing for me is that I pressed "camera."
        Just for comparision. At about the same time the next evening, I got this shot... from about the same location, pointing in the same direction as the picture above. The sun DOES set in that place and most nights our sunset is a plain, uneventful (but still beautiful) scene.





 

Then came Event # Two.

Fast forward to this morning at our breakfast table.

Bees. How nice, they've come for the sugar water in our hummingbird feeders.

More bees.

MANY, MANY BEES. Lay-down-the-paper and LOOK !!!!!!!! BEES.....

 

 

I give you my word of honor. Those are BEES.

 

      They kept coming and increased with alarming speed. They were small and I assume "just honey bees," but they came with such speed and in such numbers we began to panick. I went online and found a bee keeper who does "swarm removal" in our county. He was very kind and did not laugh out loud at me. No, we did not have a "swarm." He explained that a swarm is the size of a vollyball. He said let the bees do their work, keep the dogs and cats indoors and the doors shut, and stay calm.

CALM????????   ME ??????

 

 

This is just one feeder. All four feeders had at least this many; there were more bees

coveing flower pots under the feeders where sweet water had dripped; even more

bees covered two square feet on the patio table slurping up sugar water I had

spilled last night.

 

Oh.  That's what he said. We don't have a swarm. We just have A LOT OF BEES !!!!  But, okay. Yes, Sir. Deep breath.

 

     Of course, Dear Heart can NOT just sit INDOORS. It is a physical impossibility for him. Fortunately, the hummingbird feeders on the front porch had not collected the horde of bees as on the back porch, so he got on his scooter that is parked two feet from the feeders and off he went, out and about for his country gentleman morning rounds. Son stopped by shortly and brought in the feeders from the front porch.

     In a couple of hours, the back porch feeders were empty. !!!! Most of the bees were gone.

 

     Hummmm. My daddy used to say, "If you stop by for coffee, it's okay to stay for an hour. If you stop by at lunch, you got to stay and visit at least two hours."  Our bees had lunch today and left. We put back some feeders to test whether they will return in the heat of the afternoon or wait until the cool of tomorrow morning. ????

 

     At any rate, the scene was breath-taking. Watching bees "swarm" is fascinating and puts a mere human in its human-place.

 

My prayer is that you notice each little wonder in your path.

 

Love and blessings.

 

Liz

 

 

 

 

Flash Posting from the queen of Perfection

Most likely, even  my regular readers don't know that I've never made a single post just 'off the cuff." I write and think on a post for hours in my Word program.  I edit, format, and copy. then i go to Blogspot and paste into a post.

Today, I'm waiting to see my doctor WITH my new iPad and decided to step into the brave new adventure of posting "on the go."

Unless you know me well, you can't imagine the terror clutching my heart.....and fingers. Editing and formatting is the way I write AND the way I live my life... All very carefully planned out, organized, rearranged, considered, EDITED and FORMATTED with a plan.

There are actually several hundred things floating in my old brain that I would love to chat about with you. But, I'll leave them for another time. I made a promise to myself to write more on my blog. "Flash" writing has never been my favorite form of setting words onto paper, but it is a great way to learn to trust the writer hiding in my soul.

I have finally faced the truth that since my severe medical ordeal last winter, my life IS not the same. Things: -health - emotions - endurance - thinking will never be as good or as strong as before.

HOWEVER, things are okay and life goes on. With Adjustments. And with the willingness to learn new ways. Of course, learning to live with the demon Restless Leg-Syndrome is a whole different ball game and i've never been good at sports.. But, again, life is livable and there is hope. 

So. Least you think I live  a  totally negative existence, HOPE is a very good thing. So are friends, prayer, lunch visits, desserts, watching billowing clouds through the window in my doctor's office, getting frequent phone calls from my best prayer partner { my daughter-IN -LAW. :-). }, and red petunias.

How sweet it is.

And that's enough said.

Blessings,

Liz