Random Memories, Reflections, & Thoughts
Spring is the season that reminds us that the dead will rise again and will do so with great beauty and delight. Plants and trees coming to life again is amazing. They look dead in the winter but then they joyfully spring up in the spring season. After a spring or summer rain I sense that the plants are excited. They are so perky and full and beautiful. Then there's the lilies that send up their blades early spring then die down again. Just when you think they're dead and gone, and you've raked the dead blades away, these beautiful pink lilies with long stems appear overnight in their place. Some people call them Surprise Lilies but I prefer the name Mom taught me and most likely her mom taught her: Resurrection Lilies. We are like the Resurrection Lilies. Our bodies die and are buried but we're not truly dead because our spirit lives and we are given a new body much more beautiful than the one before.
I remember when I was about 4, this little blind girl named Molly chased me with her tricycle and no matter where I went, she was right at my heels. I was terrified!! I underestimated her abilities. She may have had a disability but I really admired her for not letting her blindness stop her from doing what she wanted. But I did wish she would stop that tricycle.
Every time I lose weight, my body wants it back and it doesn't care what I have to do or how much I have to eat to get it back. It becomes obsessed. That's where the battle begins between the will and the flesh. My mind is willing to lose weight but my heart's not in it. So they are in constant conflict. It's similar to this paraphrased verse in Romans 7: I do not do what I want to do (eat healthy). Instead, I do what I don't want to do (eat unhealthy). I want to give the unhealthy foods back but I'm already wearing them on my hips. And so I not only carry around extra weight, I carry a load of guilt too. My heart must be in it to succeed. I suppose I will be in this war until the end of time. I just hope I can fit through heaven's gates.
We learn from other people's mistakes. Had they not made those mistakes, we might be making the same ones. In other words, most of us who sit in judgment of those who made mistakes are no better than they -- just luckier.When a person you should love but don’t dies, you are left with a clear picture of what a wonderful person the deceased really was. The devil ceases to whisper lies in your ear about that person. You realize you wasted precious moments and robbed yourself of a close relationship with that person because you focused on the negative and believed the father of lies. You grieve all the more not only because of the lost time with the person before the death, but because you are left with such a burden of guilt. Better to see that person through God’s eyes before his or her time on earth is done. And then maybe the same will be done for you before you pass away.
One cannot trust advice from a person whose morals are weak. Only those who wish to follow the same path as the person giving advice would seek that morally weak person’s advice and they would do so in order to validate their own behavior (or misbehavior).
A friend who is now deceased had his car broken into one night. The thieves didn't take a whole lot but naturally it's aggravating to lose anything you've paid for yourself. We figure it was young boys. (They didn't want my hand lotion.) What is funny is that I had put baking soda in some little packets like tiny Ziploc bags and some in a really small plastic container and kept them in the bag with the other things they took. We took the cloth tote bag to dances, which included potlucks, and sometimes I would get an upset stomach so I kept the baking soda packets handy just in case. I found myself snickering when I learned about the theft because I could picture the young men trying to snort the white powder. They most likely thought they had hit the jackpot.
Choice: We can all make our own choices. We are free to do so spiritually and in everyday life. But with wrong choices come consequences and some of them are severe and last a lifetime. When you choose your fun, choose well, keeping in mind that a few minutes or a few hours of the wrong kind of fun can lead to life-altering consequences along with a lifetime of shame, guilt and/or sorrow. Those life-altering consequences have a ripple effect of grief throughout the family and friends.
It is amazing to see the transformation one makes when that person becomes a Christian after having lived a sinful life and we rejoice in their conversion. That transformation could only be from God. On the flip side, we are dumbfounded when we see a Christian take on a way of thinking and behavior in contrast to the Christian one. That transformation could only be from Satan.
Where there is an addiction, the Holy Spirit is not present. He cannot co-exist with demons in a person’s heart. When the demon takes up residence, the Holy Spirit leaves. If the person sweeps his heart clean but does not allow the Holy Spirit back in, seven demons will come and take residence in his heart. (Lk. 11:26).
Our mistakes or sins, as painful as they may be when the consequences set in, are what bring us into a closer relationship with Christ. It is through our bad choices that we hopefully become remorseful, repentant and dependent on Him. Take responsibility for your sins and ask for God's guidance, grace and mercy. You will be forever grateful you did.
A person cannot be transparent when that person is cloaked in deceit. Honesty is found in transparency.
There is a fine line between being a private person and hiding a secret life.
He who believes his own lies is not honest. "He who is evil in little is evil in much." KJV
Behind every sin is a lie believed. --Prof. Albert McGee, St. Louis Christian College
Too many times when teenagers (and others) are seeking happiness, they make decisions that cause life-altering situations and they get grief instead. Happiness comes in avoiding situations that could bring grief and the result will be peace and contentment instead of an artificial happiness or temporary high that brings profound unhappiness.
We were not put on earth to see how much happiness we can find. Life isn't about us as individuals. We were put here to put others ahead of ourselves, God being at the top of the list. We are expected to approach each situation with honesty, integrity and responsibility and we are to treat each person with love. I personally find no greater joy than when I think I have done something that pleased God. But then I have to battle losing my humility. I want to tell the world I pleased God. I want to shout it from the rooftops. But God prefers that my left hand doesn't know what my right hand is doing instead of using either hand to pat myself on the back.
My friend, Ron, and I went to see the Kentucky Headhunters several years ago. Ron figured he could hurt there from his cancer as well as he could hurt anywhere else. His sister had already bought our tickets, her treat, and we really did want to see them. The drummer was probably older than I am, had a long, gray beard that I was later told was sideburns and he was obviously hyper. But, wow, he could play the drums. They let him have 10-15 minutes of nothing but drum playing. He played that entire time without stopping. He didn't play Wipe Out, but he played at Wipe Out speed, then he would slow it down to where we thought he was surely going to stop but then he would drum at hyper speed again. He did that about 10 times. I was exhausted just watching him. Finally Ron turned to me and said in his dry humor, "They're going to have to shoot him to get him to stop." Ron was hurting but he hadn't lost his wit.
I was in a scary situation way back when and thought it might be a good idea to share my experience. My experience was this: It was the middle of the night and my older sister had been taken by ambulance to a hospital in Belleville, IL. I was staying at her house and had to get some things to take, so the ambulance got to the hospital way ahead of me. When I got there, the parking lot was empty; not a soul was around -- except for one man. As I turned the corner into the parking lot I had to go slow to make the turn. It was then that he stopped me to ask if I knew where Jack in the Box was. I yelled through the window that I wasn't from that area. He said something else but I couldn't understand him so he tried to open the passenger side door. I didn't unlock it for him, of course, and no telling what would have happened if I had. Security guards were supposed to be in the parking lot but weren't there. I never locked my doors any other time where I lived but because I was in Belleville and not Nashville, IL I locked the car doors when I parked the car. I'm so glad I did. When I unlocked the driver's side door to get in the car to go to the hospital, it didn't unlock the other car doors. I had to do that with a certain button. That's the only reason the door on that side was locked. God was with me, as always. Oh, by the way, I WAS familiar with that area and knew there was no Jack in the Box. He was likely making an excuse to try to get in the car with me.
2012 - American Idol was very emotional last night. I cried most of the way through it. The contestants were supposed to say what they were thankful for and why and many of their stories were tragic or inspiring or both. Several gave credit to God and it wasn't even cut out. It reminded me of the time when I was at St. Louis Christian College as an older student when each of us was supposed to tell about our lives. I expected to hear these feel-good stories from what I thought was a bunch of sheltered kids and instead by the end of the week I was devastated. I couldn't believe the life stories I was hearing. Last night was just another reminder that we can't judge a book by its cover and we really should get to know people who seem to have perfect lives.
IS THE CHURCH A CONGREGATION OF LOVING PEOPLE OR A BUSINESS?
To begin with, this nation is embattled in a spiritual war and we are not prepared. We don’t read our Bibles enough, we don’t pray enough, we are not vocal enough, we are not active enough and we are timid. We’ve got to do better if we are going to save this nation and please God. We have allowed the murders of millions upon millions of babies over the years, 50% of all marriages end in divorce, marriage is no longer defined as between a man and a woman, people are changing their genders, God is being taken out of the public eye, church people are being killed not only in other countries but too often right here in the U.S.A. Corruption is taking over government and business. And so continues "the silence of the lambs." Churches have lost their way. They are run like businesses with business people in charge. They are too often entertainment oriented. They are less like a family of caring people. The leaders are often arrogant and full of their own ego and some of them are sinning behind the scenes, using their position in the church to feed their sin. Too many children are being molested by church members or leaders. We no longer know who to trust because the pedophiles blend in so well. We need to pray for wisdom and discernment in rooting these people out using the method outlined for us in I Corinthians 5:9-13: 9 I wrote to you in my letter not to associate with sexually immoral people— 10 not at all meaning the people of this world who are immoral, or the greedy and swindlers, or idolaters. In that case you would have to leave this world. 11 But now I am writing to you that you must not associate with anyone who claims to be a brother or sister but is sexually immoral or greedy, an idolater or slanderer, a drunkard or swindler. Do not even eat with such people. 12 What business is it of mine to judge those outside the church? Are you not to judge those inside? 13 God will judge those outside. “Expel the wicked person from among you.” Using that wisdom and discernment, let's treat each church member like a family member since, in fact, we are all brothers and sisters in the family of God. See also II Thess. 3:14-15
DEPRESSION:
Make depression and anxiety work for you: Pour your emotions into an art form such as singing, playing an instrument, writing, sculpting, etc. or if you’re into sports, give it your all. An art form without emotions poured into it is like the difference between creative writing and a newspaper article. Persons with ADHD may have bouts of depression, especially growing up, but they also have excess energy and emotions and, therefore, when they become adults, they become hard workers and they fit right in with the teenagers. They have the energy to lead teenagers while the rest of us have lost energy. People who have had phases of depression are more empathetic to others who are going through a period of depression. Sometimes just talking it out makes a big difference. People who have had situational depression are better equipped to handle a future situation because they have been through a storm or storms and realize the sun will shine again. They actually become stronger. Self-discipline is needed in order to be an overcomer of depression or anxiety. "Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize. Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training. They do it to get a crown that will not last, but we do it to get a crown that will last forever. Therefore I do not run like someone running aimlessly; I do not fight like a boxer beating the air. No, I strike a blow to my body and make it my slave so that after I have preached to others, I myself will not be disqualified for the prize" I Corinthians 9:24-27, NIV. Focus on serving others and give it your all. "Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with all your might..." Eccl. 9:10a.
Most people disapprove of taking love for granted but I look at it in another way. How wonderful it would be to be so secure in your spouse's love that you can take it for granted. How wonderful to be innocent of abuse or lack of love that goes on in other homes. There are those who live off of the crumbs of another person’s love. Many have never known unconditional love.
Weeds and Church Problems
Most people disapprove of taking love for granted but I look at it in another way. How wonderful it would be to be so secure in your spouse's love that you can take it for granted. How wonderful to be innocent of abuse or lack of love that goes on in other homes. There are those who live off of the crumbs of another person’s love. Many have never known unconditional love.
Weeds and Church Problems
Every year church problems seem to vary. They are much like the weeds in my flower garden. After pulling weeds in my yard for over 20 years now, I have come to realize that each year a different kind of weed invades the yard and tries to take over. Sometimes it is tricky to pull the weeds without hurting the flowers. Other times it is impossible. I always think of weeds as the tares or chaff in the parables Jesus taught. Some were left to grow with the wheat, then were harvested along with the wheat, but were separated from the wheat by the wind. Others were thrown into the fire. The weeds in the parables represent the anti-Christ, or the unbelievers. Like the weeds in my flower garden, the "weeds" in the church are the problems caused by divisive people, people who are using the church for their own gain, those who are trying to lure people away from the church, etc. Every year we must deal with a different kind of problem. Weeds never go away; each year just brings a new variety of problems. Like the weeds, the problems will never leave us. When one is gone, another will take its place. We must never grow weary in getting "to the root" of the problems so that they are eradicated, never to return, because we sure don't need those problems in addition to the next batch that is sure to come.
In my young years we went to church in West Frankfort, the old First Christian Church. It had the most beautiful, large stained glass windows I've ever seen. There was something about those windows that made me feel I was truly in a holy building meant for church people. Each one depicted a Bible story and there was a round one at the front of the building high upon the wall. I think of them often and wonder what happened to them when a new church was built. I felt like when the old building was built, they gave the best to the master. I found out later it wasn't initially built as a bonified church. It was some group like the Masons. Nevertheless, it became a ready-made church and is firmly planted in my memory.
One of life's most precious moments: My daughter came home from grade school one day and said, "Mom, I had the best day. The sun was shining and I had Jesus in my heart."It is a paradox that it is when we are disciplined, we are the most free, but when we become “carefree,” we become a slave to our sins. I know that this principle is true because I have seen it too many times to doubt it. To be free in Christ is to be free indeed!
Several of our sayings are rooted in the Bible. The first one that comes to mind is "No man is an island." The Bible says, "No man liveth to himself. (KJV)" Another one is "A little birdie told me so." The Bible says, "Do not revile the king even in your thoughts, or curse the rich in your bedroom, because a bird in the sky may carry your words, and a bird on the wing may report what you say." (Eccl. 10:20 NIV) "Grow where you are planted is another one of our sayings. "Keep your lives free from the love of money and be content with what you have, because God has said, “Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you.” Heb. 13:5
I would like to think that the spirits of those who have passed are still with us in some way, even if they are among that "great cloud of witnesses." But people do not become angels when they die. Angels are separate beings who minister to us human beings. Here is one of the verses that teach that: I Cor. 6:3 - "Do you not know that we will judge angels? How much more the things of this life!"
I see so much poor-bashing on facebook; it breaks my heart. Not everyone who is poor is a lazy moocher. Working to make money is much more desirable than not having enough to eat, little to wear, broken-down necessities, feeling low class, and being depressed. Hundreds of applicants apply for the same job. They have no father to hand them a job on a silver platter. They may get a job but are paid oppressive wages and have no insurance or retirement benefits. Then when they draw social security, it is the lowest amount. Many are disabled or must stay home to care for a disabled person. Successful employers who gripe about those on welfare need to ask themselves if they are paying their workers fair wages or are they oppressing them. There are two sides to this story. Not all poor are the evil people they are made out to be. I am shocked every time I see or hear a Christian bashing all poor people considering the hundreds of verses in the Bible addressing that issue. Yes, I am aware of the story in the Bible about the sluggard and the ant. That story is the true side of the issue of lazy moochers who refuse to work. They are poor because they are lazy. They choose laziness over bettering themselves and supporting their families. They are the ones who need to be booted off of welfare. But then where does that leave the wife and children? God has little to say about the lazy but he has a lot to say about the poor and those who oppress the poor. If you are interested in those scriptures, let me know. I have about 4 pages ready to copy and paste.
It doesn't look good for Iraq at the "apocalypse" because Babylon is now Iraq. Christians are being killed and beheaded in that country. Those who are not Christians in other countries will not be spared torment either. It is hard for me to read Revelation because I fear the fear I will feel in those days if I am still alive, and I fear for the salvation of loved ones who either don't have a relationship with Jesus or are lukewarm. Then I ask myself if I am lukewarm. Am I just going through the motions of Christianity and is my heart in it as fully as it should be? I know the devil has tried to crush my faith and spirit many times and so far I have stood firm but a lot of the fire I once had is gone. Some of that also has to do with age and health problems -- or do I just use that as an excuse. This is what wars within me.
NOT-SO-GOOD FRIDAY. I can't bring myself to feel good about what Christ had to go through on this day that we honor his sacrifice for our sins. He was innocent but we would never be made holy and have the hope of a life in heaven without His sacrifice, and he suffered horribly. Good for us but not for Him. I feel self-centered calling this day "Good."
I pretty much thought I was a loser until I started writing in my late 40s. Sometimes we discover we have a hidden talent that we haven't taken the time to discover. My twin sisters thought they didn't have a talent other than singing but their more important talent is in their personalities (one is now deceased). They drew people to them and then brought them to church with them. What greater talent can one have? We may not realize that what we take for granted in what we do is something not everyone can do, our gift. Just use what you do have for the Lord and you're a winner.
I am a dreamer. I never sleep without dreaming. The first dream I had that I can remember was when I was a toddler. I dreamed Donald Duck bit me. So I ran to Mom and Dad's bed and insisted on sleeping with them. They tried to explain to me about dreams but I insisted it really happened and I ended up sleeping with them where Donald couldn't get to me. I was too young to comprehend that dreams aren't the same as reality.
I went to the senior citizens dance in Ina, IL this evening and while there a lady in a wheelchair rolled up to my table and told me she loved to watch me dance. I thanked her and then she added, "Yes, that's the way I dance in my dreams." She went on to tell me she had polio at the age of 2. She has had 22 surgeries. She did pretty good in her youth but then the nerves in her body started breaking down again and she became confined to the wheelchair. She was/is a microbiologist. There are so many people at the senior dances that inspire me. It pays to get to know people we normally pass by. Many of them have a story to tell, some of which will knock your socks off. This lady made my day. I never had the confidence to dance in front of people other than family until a couple of years ago and I decided, I'm 62 years old (at the time). What difference does it make what people think at this point? If they make fun of me, so what. I won't die. Dancing has changed my life. I get exercise, I've made many friends, and it improves my mood when life gets tough. Don't let your fears stop you. You have too much to gain by overcoming your fears and too much to lose giving into them. I must stress, though, to overcome your fears but also overcome your temptations. Do not give into either.
Years ago one of my nephews had a school project around Halloween time whereas he was supposed to interview people about any ghost stories they might have. Many of our family members were visiting our parents/grandparents and were sitting in the living room. We all looked at each other and no one had any ghost stories but several of us had angel stories, stories where we felt like we were visited or helped by an angel because the circumstances were unexplainable.
One of my life's most embarrassing moments: I went to a funeral for a friend's grandfather. My daughter-in-law went with me. After finding seats we had a little time before the service started so I decided that would be a good time to go to the restroom since we already had a bit of a drive. I went into the bathroom and noticed it was nice and clean but that's all I noticed. While I was in the stall, the lights went out all of a sudden. I had to feel my way around the stall in order to finish up. I knew where the door was but I still had to wash my hands, so I felt along the wall until I discovered the sinks. I felt around for the soap dispenser and for a way to dry my hands. Then I finally made it to the door. I sat down next to my daughter-in-law and her first response was "What took you so long?" I couldn't answer her because I began laughing so hard. So here we were at the start of a funeral, a very solemn service, and I couldn't stop laughing. I still wonder what people thought of me, figuring they must've thought I was really rude and unthoughtful. Advice to others: Please don't turn out the lights in a bathroom with more than one stall.
In another one of life's most embarrassing moments I was walking to Jr. High School and turned around to give a final wave to my boyfriend, then turned back around and walked right into a tree.
My son was riding through the little town of Nashville on his bicycle on his way to school one day looking upward at the sign his dad had made for a business there in town. Because he wasn't watching where he was going, he ran into the back of a truck and landed sprawled across a big machine part. Fearing the owner would come out of the business and wonder what he was doing in the back of his truck, he climbed out in a hurry and walked his bike the rest of the way to school because it was no longer rideable. When he got home he told me what happened in his laid-back way and when he finished I asked if anyone stopped to help him. He said, "Yow one man stopped but he just laughed and laughed."
My older sister and I, my two kids and her son were walking through the woods my older sister and her then husband had just purchased in Millstadt, IL. They were going to build a house on the property. My youngest sister was also with us. She went on ahead with my little son then all of a sudden she came running back to us terrified. We asked her what was wrong but she could hardly speak. Finally she got the word "snake" out and that was enough. I took off running toward my son who had stayed where they were and was standing perfectly still. We knew there were Copperhead snakes on their property but we failed to take that into consideration. I had to slow down before I got to my son so I wouldn't startle the snake. It was coiled and was having a staring contest with my son, who was standing there peacefully. I stood back as far as I could from my son and grabbed him from behind and got away from it. We had had enough of our tour of their woods so walked back to the car, but I had to put my son down because my knees weren't holding both of us. They had gone weak and shakey.
A more humorous life experience: My older sister, Linda, and I were looking for a parking place in Belleville, IL. Traffic had stopped at an intersection and a nun walked across the street with her habit flowing behind her in the wind. She had just purchased a broom. My son, just a toddler at the time, exclaimed, "Look, Mom! There's a witch!" Trying not to laugh I responded with "That's not a witch, honey, that's a nun." He said "Yes it is too. See she even has a broom." About that time we found a parking spot but we were laughing so hard we could hardly walk cross the street.
Many years ago I had a pair of scissors in my hand about the time company came through the door, so I laid the scissors on the kitchen counter thinking that since the counter was taller than my son was, he couldn't reach them. I went to greet our company while going back through the kitchen. I looked down the hall and there was my young son running down the hall with the scissors pointed up. I just about had a heart attack. I couldn't get to him fast enough -- literally -- because he tripped and fell with those scissors pointed up. I picked him up while imagining the worst, but God must've sent an angel because all he had was a crease in the protective film on his eye. God has blessed that kid and us so many times. Don't you know his guardian angel is exhausted, though.
My then husband and I were in the kitchen doing our normal kitchen things when all of a sudden we both saw a bright flash of light come from our little son's bedroom at the end of the hall. We ran as fast as we could to his room to see what happened. He was just lying in his bed with eyes as big as saucers. We looked around the room and saw a melted nail under an outlet. I couldn't tell he was shocked in any way. Not even his fingers were burned. Once again, thank you God. He is now 52 and a grandfather.
We lived on an acre that was narrow and long. My son was playing in our back yard. He was a little more than a toddler. He was in the company of a bumble bee. Somehow he made the bumble bee madder than a hornet and the bee took out after him. I was surprised at how fast his little legs could run. He almost made it to the far end of the property where pine trees were growing and he tripped. When he did, the bee lost track of him and whizzed over him. All I could do was watch from the sliding glass doors in the dining room nurturing near heart attack #400. He was fine.
My dad loved to fish. Several of us older siblings were visiting our parents with our kids. They were still young. Dad decided to take my son and one of the youngest of his cousins out in the boat to fish. While they were fishing, a sudden storm came up -- a gullywasher. I was at home worrying and so was my youngest sister, the mother of the cousin that went fishing with Dad and my son. They ran into a small problem when the storm hit. The car was on the other side of the lake. So Dad headed for the other side. My son is laid-back and doesn't panic easily, or at least he didn't back then. He has his own kids now. That changes things. Back to my story, When they finally made it home I asked my son if he was afraid. He answered "No." I said, "Well, didn't water get in the boat? He replied, "Yes, but we just poured it out.
My two kids, two of their cousins and the mother of the cousins were at Worlds of Fun in Kansas City. We mothers let the kids go on the rides while we stayed on solid ground. We were chatting away when all of a sudden my son and his sidekick ran up to us and said the girls were on a ride. He could hardly get the words out. I wasn't concerned at first because I thought maybe they were scared on the ride and my son was scared for his sister. As it turned out, all four kids were scared because the roller coaster ride the two girls were on had stopped on the highest part of the roller coaster with a broken wheel The girls discussed whether or not they were going to die because they didn't see how they could possibly get down. They were terrified. Part of what confused me when my son told me they were stuck on the ride is that he expressed his fear as anger. So my mind went the wrong direction. I wondered why they were into it this time. He wasn't and isn't an angry person, never threw tantrums, didn't throw things or get mouthy, but he was angry then. He actually taught me a psychology lesson that day. Just because a person acts angry doesn't mean the person is truly angry; they may be afraid. My son expressed that same anger when he thought his sister had been kidnapped while sprinting down the country road. She went out of our sight, which was unusual, but she had just turned a corner and went farther than usual. Fortunately the girls weren't stuck on the ride too terribly long and we could all relax.
My daughter and I and her two children were broken down in her car on I-64 one time. We neither one had a cell phone at the time.It was very hot weather. We knew we couldn't trust just anyone to help us. We hadn't waited by the side of the road for too long before a car pulled over to help us. For a few seconds we were apprehensive. That feeling passed when we saw it was a lady and realized she was a very nice one. She also had a car phone in the days when that was fairly rare. I can't even tell you who we called to help us but I do remember that the lady turned out to be my former preacher's daughter. She drove every day from Pinckneyville to St. Louis to work her job as a nurse. We knew God had something to do with helping us out of that situation. She was probably anxious to get home after such a long drive but she took the time to help us out. That was an act of kindness we'll never forget.
My mom and her sister were fishing together one day. Mom decided to put a weight on her line, but she was having trouble getting it to clamp tightly around the line, so she bit down on it with her teeth. It clamped down onto the line alright, but also clamped onto her tongue as well and she couldn’t get it off. She and my aunt didn’t know what to do so they headed for the car with the intention of going to the ER. They had to walk across a field and part a barbed-wire fence while each of them crawled through the opening. Mom let out some exclamations whenever the line inadvertently got jerked. After overcoming several major obstacles and while trying to figure out how to get the pole in the car, it finally dawned on them that all they had to do was cut the fishing line.
My earliest memories were in the house we called “The Little Green House" in West
Frankfort, Illinois on the southwest end of Odle Street. It started out as two rooms with ugly, dark green shingles on the outside. From what I have heard, Grandpa Uhls and his son, our Uncle Kendall, built the house. Kendall was a postman most of his working career, but he was also a very good carpenter. At The Little Green House we had a “slop jar,” which was a granite bucket with a lid, to pee in at night so that we didn’t have to go outside to the outdoor toilet. When the twins came along, another room was added to the house, but the house still hadn’t outgrown its Little Green House name nor would it ever. Next door to us lived an elderly lady, Mrs. Lee, and her son, Paul, who was crippled. He ran when he walked. They were nice people who had a little store along one wall of their home with just a few basic items but, of course, the part I remember best was the candy. It wasn’t always fresh, however, but neither was Grandpa’s candy in his store. There was no air conditioning back then. The eater always had to check for worms.
Somewhere between what we called the Little Green House and Grandpa’s store on Odle Street in West Frankfort was a white house. The lady in the house had a granddaughter named Molly. Molly was blind, but you would never know it except to look at her eyes. Her hearing was so good that it substituted for the lack of sight. I remember her chasing me around the yard and gravel driveway while she was riding a tricycle, pedaling every bit as fast as I was running. No matter what direction I ran, she was never far from my heels – and I was a fast runner. I remember being terrified because I didn’t know if she could or would stop if I did. Fortunately I never found out. I ran into the house to be safe. I would love to meet Molly again. Someone with that much spunk and capabilities would be worth knowing. I just hope she’s not driving a car using her hearing in place of sight.
In another incident, the twins (my sisters) and our cousins, David and Rachel Downard, decided to put towels around their necks, climb up on the shed in the back of the house on Stella Street, and pretend they were going to fly off of it like Superman -- emphasis on the word pretend. David, who was the twins’ age, thought the towel would truly enable him to fly, so he put it on, jumped off of the shed spread eagle and landed on the ground the same way. It knocked the breath out of him but by the grace of God he was otherwise unhurt. This is especially remarkable because he was a frail kid with bad kidneys. His bad kidneys would eventually contribute to his death as an adult, yet he lived a full life until then and was always jovial.
We took little walking trips around town, even though we were very young, and in places Mom was unaware we were touring. And yet it was one of those trips that helped shape my life. Several of us started walking down the railroad tracks one day. There were no houses on either side of the tracks – only brush – for much of the walk, even though we were in town. From time to time we would see piles of trash beside the tracks where people had made dumps. We would go through the trash to see if we could find anything interesting. I’ve always loved books, so I latched onto one that I found in one of the heaps. It happened to be a book with testimonies of remarkable things that had happened to Christians, things that could only be explained as God’s intervention into their lives. There was story after story and they were quite moving. I knew then that’s what I wanted for my life – God watching over me and my family. Ironically, or perhaps by God’s design, I would one day write my own testimony of how God intervened in our lives. That story is on my blog page with the most views of all of my writings.
While Carolyn was in the hospital, Granny came to stay with us. She was not a good mother to our dad so we didn't see much of her. Her staying with us was a nightmare. She was a lousy cook. Mom was the best cook in the world and Granny’s cooking was the worst. We all vividly remember her bread pudding. It was gross. None of us will eat bread pudding to this day. Her other dishes weren’t much better, though Sharon remembers her fried chicken being delicious. Speaking for myself, I don’t remember anything delicious that she cooked. Carolyn lost weight while in the hospital from being sick and the rest of us kids lost weight at home from refusing to eat Granny’s cooking.
We moved from 20th Street to 16th Street in Mt. Vernon about 1963 or 1964. It was a two-story house situated behind a service station that faced Broadway. We were living there when Linda got her driver’s license. Dad bought a German car called a Kaiser for her to drive us around in. Sharon didn’t get her license until later years and neither did I. I don’t remember when Butch got his license. We had a lot of fun in that Kaiser. Linda liked to jump this dip in the road on 23rd Street, and taking the dip fast like that would make us swallow our stomachs. We loved it. The car would occasionally not start, but Dad taught us what to do when that happened. We had to jiggle this little wire under the hood. I’m sure that was quite a sight for anyone watching us.
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When I was in the lower grades like Kindergarten and 1st grade at Lincoln School in West Frankfort, we sang this little 5-finger song with actions. It was about Thumbkin, Pointer, Tall Man, Ringkin and Pinky. The lyrics went "Where is Thumbkin, where is Thumbkin," "Here I am, here I am" and the lyrics were repeated for each finger changing only the name of the finger. The left-handed finger would ask the "Where is (thumbkin, pointer, tall man, ring man, pinky), where is (same finger, left hand) part and the right handed finger would respond with "Here I am, here I am" while pointing only that finger straight up. The left-handed finger would ask "How are you today, Sir?" And the right-handed finger's response would be "Very well and thank you" while bowing the erect finger down a few times. That was followed by "Run away, run away" while each arm went behind the singers' backs. What crossed my mind yesterday is how it looked when all of the class of students standing in a circle displaying Tall Man while singing in complete innocence, "Here I am, here I am."
When a person cheats on their spouse, that person not only cheats on their mate, they cheat on the whole family, on both sides, many of their friends, the church people and God.
LEARNING TO COOK: Mom was with me as I began learning to cook. My first question to her was "What is a recipe?" I pronounced the word with a long "i." (re-sipe) Then when I was reading the ingredients, I got to "1 t. soda." I asked Mom "What kind of soda? Coke or 7-Up?"
Mine and my sisters' take on getting old: These aren't the golden years and we're not the golden girls.
"That night—may thick darkness seize it; may it not be included among the days of the year nor be entered in any of the months." When I read this verse in Job 3:6, I asked myself if we were missing a day in our yearly calendar and guess what I came up with: February. Coincidence? Interesting.
An obsession with sports is a guarantee of a marriage full of conflict. Ignoring the kids will guarantee family conflict.
You don't know what you've got until you say "I do."
From a tv show: "A man's sin never leaves him alone."
If you are a woman whose husband's heart and soul have been mastered by an addiction, trying to reason with him with logic is futile.
A husband's slap cancels out a thousand kisses.
Quite a few years ago the preacher's wife, the wife of a new couple at church, and I were supposed to go strawberry picking the following day. That evening I got a call from the new couple's husband saying his wife couldn't go berry picking because she had died. I couldn't wrap my mind around what he was saying. First of all, she appeared to be in good health. What I didn't know was that she had the worst kind of diabetes. She had just learned her husband was cheating on her and it caused her to have a seizure and she died. I remember thinking to myself, "She can't die. We're going berry picking in the morning and, besides, that's an unbelievable excuse." It seemed that someone or something ought to change that scenario because we were going berry picking, and that fact was carved in stone. That makes no sense, I know. But a person doesn't think straight during a trauma or news of a trauma. It took me a while to clear my head and grasp what he had said. He said it so calmly that it didn't seem real. I hardly knew her but that event hit me so hard that it was like I had known her for a long time and was close to her. Life can take some strange, unexpected, and painful twists and turns. I've learned that that's the way it is and I have to take those twists and turns as they come.
It Pays to Pay Attention.
My sisters, my mom and I were at a restaurant in Fairview Heights many years ago. We decided to go in the bathroom and we went together, like girls do. While we were in there fixing our hair and whatever, we saw a girl with a long strip of toilet paper stuck on the bottom of her shoe. She suddenly turned and walked out the door and I tried to step on the toilet paper so she didn’t go out where the throng of people were eating their lunch. She moved too fast and I missed. So, I tried it again and ended up stomping instead of stepping. I was determined to save her embarrassment. I missed. I tried it a third time and the third time I missed. She was on her own. In the meantime, we were laughing really hard. She didn’t seem to notice and we couldn’t help it. We got ourselves calmed down and went back out to find our table. There in the middle of the floor was a long strip of toilet paper. We broke up again. It’s one of a female’s worst fears and I tried to save her but she wouldn’t be saved. She just kept going with her pride intact.
Mine and my sisters' take on getting old: These aren't the golden years and we're not the golden girls.
"That night—may thick darkness seize it; may it not be included among the days of the year nor be entered in any of the months." When I read this verse in Job 3:6, I asked myself if we were missing a day in our yearly calendar and guess what I came up with: February. Coincidence? Interesting.
An obsession with sports is a guarantee of a marriage full of conflict. Ignoring the kids will guarantee family conflict.
You don't know what you've got until you say "I do."
From a tv show: "A man's sin never leaves him alone."
If you are a woman whose husband's heart and soul have been mastered by an addiction, trying to reason with him with logic is futile.
A husband's slap cancels out a thousand kisses.
Quite a few years ago the preacher's wife, the wife of a new couple at church, and I were supposed to go strawberry picking the following day. That evening I got a call from the new couple's husband saying his wife couldn't go berry picking because she had died. I couldn't wrap my mind around what he was saying. First of all, she appeared to be in good health. What I didn't know was that she had the worst kind of diabetes. She had just learned her husband was cheating on her and it caused her to have a seizure and she died. I remember thinking to myself, "She can't die. We're going berry picking in the morning and, besides, that's an unbelievable excuse." It seemed that someone or something ought to change that scenario because we were going berry picking, and that fact was carved in stone. That makes no sense, I know. But a person doesn't think straight during a trauma or news of a trauma. It took me a while to clear my head and grasp what he had said. He said it so calmly that it didn't seem real. I hardly knew her but that event hit me so hard that it was like I had known her for a long time and was close to her. Life can take some strange, unexpected, and painful twists and turns. I've learned that that's the way it is and I have to take those twists and turns as they come.
It Pays to Pay Attention.
My sisters, my mom and I were at a restaurant in Fairview Heights many years ago. We decided to go in the bathroom and we went together, like girls do. While we were in there fixing our hair and whatever, we saw a girl with a long strip of toilet paper stuck on the bottom of her shoe. She suddenly turned and walked out the door and I tried to step on the toilet paper so she didn’t go out where the throng of people were eating their lunch. She moved too fast and I missed. So, I tried it again and ended up stomping instead of stepping. I was determined to save her embarrassment. I missed. I tried it a third time and the third time I missed. She was on her own. In the meantime, we were laughing really hard. She didn’t seem to notice and we couldn’t help it. We got ourselves calmed down and went back out to find our table. There in the middle of the floor was a long strip of toilet paper. We broke up again. It’s one of a female’s worst fears and I tried to save her but she wouldn’t be saved. She just kept going with her pride intact.
A Superhero and a Superman Ring
One of my nephews and his sister went to spend the night with my sister-in-law at her apartment complex. The kids decided to go swimming in the pool. My young niece had been taking swimming lessons decided to swim the length of the pool. She made it to the deep end but then tuckered out. She couldn’t stay above water. So, her little brother grabbed his Superman ring and jumped in after her without a thought. They both held onto the ring and paddled back to the pool deck. Somehow it made the news. They were so young and the brother was so brave and heroic. It didn’t hurt that he had a Superhero ring, either.
An Overcomer
There was a guy a couple of years older than me that I became friends with at SLCC. He had been an army recruiter and was retired. His wife was also in the service but not yet retired, I don’t think. He was at the Bible College a year or two. I don’t remember for sure, not that it matters, but he moved around from state to state over the next few years, keeping in touch by e-mail. He has been in Florida for quite a few years now and I’m not sure if the following happened there or the state before that. That doesn’t matter either. What does matter is that he was riding his motorcycle one day, a car came into his lane and they hit head-on. Now think about that: hitting a car head-on while riding a motorcycle. I asked him if anyone stopped to help (or something along those lines). He said when he came to, a man was praying over him. He didn’t tell me a lot of details but did say he was in a wheelchair for several months. He had been in good physical condition from being in the army so many years and I’m sure that helped. Once he graduated from the wheelchair, he’s been fine ever since. What about the man who prayed over him after the accident, a citizen or an angel? It's the prayer that counts.
My oldest granddaughter, Hope, and I went to the Irvington, IL park when she was about 5. She climbed up to the top of the sliding board and just sat there. Then she said to me while I was standing at the bottom, "Mamma, get your spider." You can imagine my reaction. "What?" "Get your spider," she repeated. Then I realized that when she came down the slide she wanted me to tickle her with my itsy bitsy spider that climbed up the water spout. Love that girl.
A nephew as a toddler story: My nephew, Andrew, was always so serious as a toddler. I tried to get him to laugh one day by playing "Little Bitty Mousy." I took his hand and with my pointer finger went round and round his hand, then up his arm and tickled his neck. Nothing. No grins. No response. I tried it a time or two more but got the same reaction. I gave up. My sister, his mom, told me later that she had to play Little Bitty Mousy the rest of the afternoon. I loved it.
Shortly after I got married I worked at a Dairy Queen in Johnston City, Tennessee while my then husband attended college. I worked until 11. I made $1.10 an hour and didn't get paid for clean-up time. We had to buy our own food even though we sold 12-cent hamburgers. The only food we got free was the corners off of square cheese slices which the cooks cut off so the cheese would fit the hamburger and not melt all over the griddle. My husband would pick me up from work. We just had the one car. It was a new Volkswagen so it was in good condition which turned out to be a good thing because a man got behind us and started bumping our bumper, then chasing us. We lived a ways out of town so my husband thought it would be wise to head back to town where it was more populated. We had to go faster and faster because the evil man stayed on our tail. We didn't know why he was chasing us but I was scared out of my wits. Finally we turned into a bus station. He followed us there, too, and stayed even while my husband called the cops. They arrived but I don't know what happened after that. I think he was chased but I doubt they did anything to him if they caught him because there were no witnesses and no damage. I think that's the scariest thing that ever happened to me other than the car wreck my family had in 1961 with all 10 of us in the car. That's another story.
SWEET CORN/WATERMELON FESTIVAL EXPERIENCE
I was visiting my parents and some siblings the weekend of the Sweet Corn/Watermelon Festival many years ago. My husband had our car so I took Mom and Dad’s car to get the superb corn on the cob they offered every year (at that time). I had to pull up to the curb in front of the courthouse and I made my purchase there. I noticed a police car lingering in the right-hand lane of 10th street. I didn’t think too much about it. So, I pulled over to the turn lane when the coast was clear and he turned on his flashing lights. I pulled to the right in a parking spot thinking he would go by me. But he didn’t. He got out of his car and said, “Lady, do you know your sticker has expired?” I said “This is not my car.” I immediately thought how bad that sounded. Then he wanted my license and registration. Normally I would have them in my purse but I had surgery 6 weeks before and put them in the glove compartment of our car. I hadn’t driven since then. Then I realized I was in a pickle. I asked the officer if he would mind following me to my parents’ house and he said fine. That was embarrassing. When we got there, I became worried that he would come across loud and offensive. My dad had heart bypass surgery the same day I had my surgery but it took him longer to heal. Fortunately, Dad was asleep upstairs. Before we got in the house, I asked the policeman if he would keep his voice low because of Dad’s condition. When the officer got in the house and started talking to mom, his gruff voice wasn’t low at all. He informed Mom her sticker had expired and so had my brother’s, whose car was parked in the yard at the time. Mom informed the officer that she had purchased the stickers but the bank was out of them so they just gave her a receipt as proof of purchase. Mom showed the receipts to the officer. I thought he was satisfied but then he said in the same tone of voice, “Why are there so many cars parked at your house so often? I immediately said, “We’re a family of 10 and we all have cars.” He was likely thinking we were a drug house. He finally left but that corn didn’t seem as inviting as in other years.
LOST IN D.C.
My sister, Marilyn, and a friend took a metro to Washington, D.C. while they were staying in that area. On the way back they planned to stop at Pentagon City where there was a mall. Marilyn saw a sign that said “Pentagon” and said, “This is where we get off.” They walked down a long sidewalk, climbed the steps of the building, went in and saw a sign that said “Department of Defense.” They were quickly greeted by a guard who asked them what they were looking for. Marilyn replied, “the mall.” He was not amused and escorted them out. Confused, they asked the driver on the metro where the mall was, to which he replied, “The mall is 3 miles further at Pentagon City. You are at the Pentagon.” Oops.
Mom and I were having a rummage sale one day many years ago. A lady and Mom began discussing a purchase the woman had made elsewhere. Mom asked her where she got it. Her reply was "At the House of Iniquities." She was referring to an antique store on Perkins here in Mt. Vernon called the House of Antiquities.
Many years ago my youngest sister, Jamie, and her husband, Dale Pearson, came to visit our family where we lived in Nashville, IL. We were thrilled to have them visit us but it wasn't quite as pleasant for Dale. We sat down at the dining room table, which had four fully-padded chairs. Dale was the last to sit down, but when he did, the back came off of his chair and he went flying. He's a big guy and he was about to go in for a landing, so he grabbed my hanging fern that was within his reach. He wasn't hurt except his pride but the fern wasn't so lucky. Both eventually recovered. The back of the chair was put back in place but was forever crooked. Dale is normally the life of the party, the class clown, the biggest duck in the puddle, a big jokester, but he didn't plan that one. He certainly got the laughs, though.
GOD, THE 3-IN-1
I asked myself why I usually talk about God instead of Jesus or the Holy Spirit. Well, when I talk to or about God, I am talking to or about all three: God the Father, God the Son and God, the Holy Spirit who Jesus left behind as a gift to us when we are baptized. In my prayers, I always thank Jesus for dying on the cross and for making a place for us in heaven. After all, it was Jesus the Son who died a terrible death on the cross preceded by a horrible beating with a whip and other painful, humiliating, and cruel actions. God the Father allowed His Son to endure all that so that we can co-exist with them in heaven. All decent fathers know how crushed God the Father must have felt. I give the Holy Spirit credit for what I write. He provides the inspiration. Still, it was Jesus who was tortured and then hung on a cross – not His Father, not His mother (Mary), not the Holy Spirit, and not any saint. Christ deserves the worship, praise and glory. I know if I had gone through something like that, I wouldn’t want my loved ones to go to someone else for their needs or to worship or to praise. His goal was to win the hearts of men and women and for them to follow Him through His teachings. No one else.
Where there's a will, there's a way -- as long as it is God's will and God's way.
As high as you can rise, you can fall. Stay humble.
One of my nephews and his sister went to spend the night with my sister-in-law at her apartment complex. The kids decided to go swimming in the pool. My young niece had been taking swimming lessons decided to swim the length of the pool. She made it to the deep end but then tuckered out. She couldn’t stay above water. So, her little brother grabbed his Superman ring and jumped in after her without a thought. They both held onto the ring and paddled back to the pool deck. Somehow it made the news. They were so young and the brother was so brave and heroic. It didn’t hurt that he had a Superhero ring, either.
An Overcomer
There was a guy a couple of years older than me that I became friends with at SLCC. He had been an army recruiter and was retired. His wife was also in the service but not yet retired, I don’t think. He was at the Bible College a year or two. I don’t remember for sure, not that it matters, but he moved around from state to state over the next few years, keeping in touch by e-mail. He has been in Florida for quite a few years now and I’m not sure if the following happened there or the state before that. That doesn’t matter either. What does matter is that he was riding his motorcycle one day, a car came into his lane and they hit head-on. Now think about that: hitting a car head-on while riding a motorcycle. I asked him if anyone stopped to help (or something along those lines). He said when he came to, a man was praying over him. He didn’t tell me a lot of details but did say he was in a wheelchair for several months. He had been in good physical condition from being in the army so many years and I’m sure that helped. Once he graduated from the wheelchair, he’s been fine ever since. What about the man who prayed over him after the accident, a citizen or an angel? It's the prayer that counts.
My oldest granddaughter, Hope, and I went to the Irvington, IL park when she was about 5. She climbed up to the top of the sliding board and just sat there. Then she said to me while I was standing at the bottom, "Mamma, get your spider." You can imagine my reaction. "What?" "Get your spider," she repeated. Then I realized that when she came down the slide she wanted me to tickle her with my itsy bitsy spider that climbed up the water spout. Love that girl.
A nephew as a toddler story: My nephew, Andrew, was always so serious as a toddler. I tried to get him to laugh one day by playing "Little Bitty Mousy." I took his hand and with my pointer finger went round and round his hand, then up his arm and tickled his neck. Nothing. No grins. No response. I tried it a time or two more but got the same reaction. I gave up. My sister, his mom, told me later that she had to play Little Bitty Mousy the rest of the afternoon. I loved it.
Shortly after I got married I worked at a Dairy Queen in Johnston City, Tennessee while my then husband attended college. I worked until 11. I made $1.10 an hour and didn't get paid for clean-up time. We had to buy our own food even though we sold 12-cent hamburgers. The only food we got free was the corners off of square cheese slices which the cooks cut off so the cheese would fit the hamburger and not melt all over the griddle. My husband would pick me up from work. We just had the one car. It was a new Volkswagen so it was in good condition which turned out to be a good thing because a man got behind us and started bumping our bumper, then chasing us. We lived a ways out of town so my husband thought it would be wise to head back to town where it was more populated. We had to go faster and faster because the evil man stayed on our tail. We didn't know why he was chasing us but I was scared out of my wits. Finally we turned into a bus station. He followed us there, too, and stayed even while my husband called the cops. They arrived but I don't know what happened after that. I think he was chased but I doubt they did anything to him if they caught him because there were no witnesses and no damage. I think that's the scariest thing that ever happened to me other than the car wreck my family had in 1961 with all 10 of us in the car. That's another story.
SWEET CORN/WATERMELON FESTIVAL EXPERIENCE
I was visiting my parents and some siblings the weekend of the Sweet Corn/Watermelon Festival many years ago. My husband had our car so I took Mom and Dad’s car to get the superb corn on the cob they offered every year (at that time). I had to pull up to the curb in front of the courthouse and I made my purchase there. I noticed a police car lingering in the right-hand lane of 10th street. I didn’t think too much about it. So, I pulled over to the turn lane when the coast was clear and he turned on his flashing lights. I pulled to the right in a parking spot thinking he would go by me. But he didn’t. He got out of his car and said, “Lady, do you know your sticker has expired?” I said “This is not my car.” I immediately thought how bad that sounded. Then he wanted my license and registration. Normally I would have them in my purse but I had surgery 6 weeks before and put them in the glove compartment of our car. I hadn’t driven since then. Then I realized I was in a pickle. I asked the officer if he would mind following me to my parents’ house and he said fine. That was embarrassing. When we got there, I became worried that he would come across loud and offensive. My dad had heart bypass surgery the same day I had my surgery but it took him longer to heal. Fortunately, Dad was asleep upstairs. Before we got in the house, I asked the policeman if he would keep his voice low because of Dad’s condition. When the officer got in the house and started talking to mom, his gruff voice wasn’t low at all. He informed Mom her sticker had expired and so had my brother’s, whose car was parked in the yard at the time. Mom informed the officer that she had purchased the stickers but the bank was out of them so they just gave her a receipt as proof of purchase. Mom showed the receipts to the officer. I thought he was satisfied but then he said in the same tone of voice, “Why are there so many cars parked at your house so often? I immediately said, “We’re a family of 10 and we all have cars.” He was likely thinking we were a drug house. He finally left but that corn didn’t seem as inviting as in other years.
LOST IN D.C.
My sister, Marilyn, and a friend took a metro to Washington, D.C. while they were staying in that area. On the way back they planned to stop at Pentagon City where there was a mall. Marilyn saw a sign that said “Pentagon” and said, “This is where we get off.” They walked down a long sidewalk, climbed the steps of the building, went in and saw a sign that said “Department of Defense.” They were quickly greeted by a guard who asked them what they were looking for. Marilyn replied, “the mall.” He was not amused and escorted them out. Confused, they asked the driver on the metro where the mall was, to which he replied, “The mall is 3 miles further at Pentagon City. You are at the Pentagon.” Oops.
Mom and I were having a rummage sale one day many years ago. A lady and Mom began discussing a purchase the woman had made elsewhere. Mom asked her where she got it. Her reply was "At the House of Iniquities." She was referring to an antique store on Perkins here in Mt. Vernon called the House of Antiquities.
Many years ago my youngest sister, Jamie, and her husband, Dale Pearson, came to visit our family where we lived in Nashville, IL. We were thrilled to have them visit us but it wasn't quite as pleasant for Dale. We sat down at the dining room table, which had four fully-padded chairs. Dale was the last to sit down, but when he did, the back came off of his chair and he went flying. He's a big guy and he was about to go in for a landing, so he grabbed my hanging fern that was within his reach. He wasn't hurt except his pride but the fern wasn't so lucky. Both eventually recovered. The back of the chair was put back in place but was forever crooked. Dale is normally the life of the party, the class clown, the biggest duck in the puddle, a big jokester, but he didn't plan that one. He certainly got the laughs, though.
GOD, THE 3-IN-1
I asked myself why I usually talk about God instead of Jesus or the Holy Spirit. Well, when I talk to or about God, I am talking to or about all three: God the Father, God the Son and God, the Holy Spirit who Jesus left behind as a gift to us when we are baptized. In my prayers, I always thank Jesus for dying on the cross and for making a place for us in heaven. After all, it was Jesus the Son who died a terrible death on the cross preceded by a horrible beating with a whip and other painful, humiliating, and cruel actions. God the Father allowed His Son to endure all that so that we can co-exist with them in heaven. All decent fathers know how crushed God the Father must have felt. I give the Holy Spirit credit for what I write. He provides the inspiration. Still, it was Jesus who was tortured and then hung on a cross – not His Father, not His mother (Mary), not the Holy Spirit, and not any saint. Christ deserves the worship, praise and glory. I know if I had gone through something like that, I wouldn’t want my loved ones to go to someone else for their needs or to worship or to praise. His goal was to win the hearts of men and women and for them to follow Him through His teachings. No one else.
Where there's a will, there's a way -- as long as it is God's will and God's way.
As high as you can rise, you can fall. Stay humble.
Videos taken by my son, John Wall, from his front yard and then from the road in Nashville, IL in the spring of 2024.
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