Her Last words were -- "Call Dr. Jesus"

A lot has happened since I last posted. On December 3, 2007, one of my very best life long friends passed away suddenly. It was devasting simply because she wasn't sick. She was very Spiritual; her every being was about the Lord. If you called her home and she was not there, she always had a different scripture on her phone to share. If you asked her how she was, she would always say "blessed." She was largely responsible to helping me to reach the level of Spirituality I now possess, even though my parents taught me about the Lord at a very young age, in fact, I grew up with the Lord.

I was at work when the phone rang, it was E., my dad's wife, she said to me, "did you hear about "S?" and at that point it seemed as though my heart dropped, and I said "no," and then she exclaimed "she died." I was livid, I mean livid. The first thing that came to my mind was "why S." She dearly loved the Lord; she had ongoing Bible studies each week with several people over the phone. She had numerous prayer partners as well as she was very good to the elderly people in our church. I could go on and on, but at this time, it is very hurtful to even talk or think about it. The words, "did you hear about S?" "She died," keeps going around in my mind. I know that in no way are we to question the Lord because he knows what's best, and I do ask for his forgiveness. S collasped on the driveway of her apartment complex and was taken to the hospital. When asked who they should call, she said "call Dr. Jesus," and then passed away.

The following week, just before the funeral, our church had a mourning session where we all told our feelings about "S." I learned a lot more about her than I knew before. Here's to her memory -- we all know where she is; she's in a better place with the Lord.

What's at the Water Cooler Besides Gossip?

GERMS, THAT'S WHAT! You all know how it is said that people gather at the water cooler to chat or gossip? We have a water cooler in the building where I work. It is located in the hallway just outside of my office. Many times I see co-workers go to the cooler with their own personal water bottles they have already drank from, put it right on the spout where the water comes out and refill their bottles then walk down the hall drinking from the same bottle. It amazes me that they don’t even realize they are passing germs. I think I’m the only one in our office who notices this as I do not hear anyone else complain about it. Day after day people continue to leave their germs at the water cooler by filling their own personal containers. Are people really that ignorant? Do they not think or do they not care?

Going Back in Time/Reliving the Past

Today I had the privilege of making a dream come true. Over the past 65 years of my life the city in which I live and grew up in has changed tremendously and of course this is no surprise. I can almost close my eyes and see the way old things were when I was a child growing up and attending elementary school here. Back in those days we called it “grade school.” Many buildings in that old neighborhood have been torn down and streets have been added. It just doesn’t look the same at all except in my mind.

The elementary school I attended as a child is still standing in the same place and has never been torn down. It is sort of a dirty dark pink color and resembles a castle like in the Cinderella fairy stories and there is an old fire escape just outside of the old first grade classroom. For a long time I have wanted to go back and visit the school just to see if it had changed inside. I wanted to climb those old steps and open the front door and just go inside as I did back in the old school days. However, there has been an addition built onto it which is a church/daycare so I had to enter into the new portion.

A couple nights ago, I dreamed that I finally made the step and visited the old castle looking school building and toured it. I recalled the rooms and the teachers who were in those rooms. The dream was so real that I did not feel it was a dream until I woke up, and then I was disappointed that I had not yet taken the step to go tour the old school building. For the entire day after I had the dream, I continued to think about the dream and what it meant to me. “I must make this dream come true,” “after all I have waited for this time to come for a long time. I don’t know why I have not done it before now”. Well, this dream was a couple nights ago and I still longed to go tour the school as the dream was deeply on my mind along with the fond memories that go with the past and when I was a student there. Today on my way home from work, around 4:00pm, I finally decided to do it, “just do it,” I thought. I turned my car in the direction of the school and while on my way; my mind went back in time. There is a park directly across from the school building where we went to play, swim, swing, play baseball and so many other things. I stared at the park and realized it hadn’t changed much either. I envisioned myself and friends playing as we did years ago. As I got closer to the school building, I began to be afraid, thinking “what if the people there will be rude and wonder who I am and why I’m there and if I am someone who has come to cause some kind of trouble?” “What if they don’t let me come in?” I had made it this far, so I will just park my car and go in. I first went to the old stairs so as to enter the front door as we used to and just as I had always dreamed I would, but the sign on the door said to go to the church entrance. I went there and tried the door but to my disappointment, it was locked. I looked up and saw a doorbell and rang it. A lady came to the door, and when I told her what I wanted, she was very friendly and receptive to my wishes. She shared with me that every now and then someone will come who has gone to the school and want to tour the building as well. In fact, just a few weeks ago, a man was there for the same purpose. I was so excited as she so willingly took me through the building for my tour. It was just as I thought. The classrooms were in the same spots and as we went through I reminisced to her what classes and teachers were in each room and a couple of experiences I’d had back then. She was almost as excited as I and seemed to enjoy going around with me and listening to my tales of “way back when.” I think one of the high points was when I went into the girl’s bathroom and it was exactly the same – it was all so amazing! It was so enlightening and at one point, I found myself pinching my arm just to make sure this was not “just another dream”. After I finished the tour, I came home and decided to sit down and blog this one. What an enlightening experience it was, just like visiting a museum. This was a time when things were a lot less stressful and we were allowed to be kids and school was as it should be when the teachers were allowed to use their authority and we were made to respect them. I thank the Lord for allowing me the pleasure of visiting the old school building and finally allowing a long time dream come true. I could go on and on with this post but I think I’ve put in too much already. Perhaps I will continue to add more information onto this later and perhaps it will become a story.

I CAN'T BE LOSING MY MIND CAN I?

This morning when I got up, I went to the front door and opened it. It was foggy outside and kind of damp as though it had rained. All of a sudden I spied the electric power lines and they appeared to be down lower than usual. I kept staring at them and then I began to wonder what had gone on last night for this to happen. I looked next door and the lines were low. I called Mid-American Energy's 1-800 number to report it. They took my name, address, etc. over the phone and said they would send someone out to check it. I then decided to go around the neighborhood and see if they were down all over. After a trip around the block, in my car, I decided that the power lines were low all over and again called Mid-America to report it. Approximately 20 minutes later, there was a knock on the door and when I answered it, a man from the power company said he had come out and checked everything and that it was normal. I looked surprised and then asked if he had gone around the neighborhood. I was a adamant that what I had seen were lowered power lines, lines that appeared to be so low that they almost touched trees and houses. I even warned a couple of neighbors to be careful. I was almost devasted that the man from Mid-America had told me that they were supposed to be that way. I then began to wonder what made me think that things were different, after all, I have lived in this same house for over 30 years and have never thought the lines were low before. I then kind of panicked, wondering what was wrong with me. Why had this happened? I was embarrassed and stunned. Finally, I called Mid-American Energy and apologized about reporting this and how "stupid" I felt. The lady was very nice and told me not to feel that way; she was glad I had called. It was better to be safe than to be sorry. I then called one of my neighbors to straighten out the confusion. I am still wondering why I thought the lines were down and the only thing I can think of is it was probably because of the heavy fog. I was not disappointed that the power lines were normal, I was upset because it appeared that I was losing it.

What a close call that was!

This evening I had two friends whom I grew up with at the house for a visit. We all attend the same church and have pretty near the same religious values but maybe a little different in some areas. We gathered this evening to do a bit of scrapbooking. Two of us love crafts and even though the third person of our little group is not quite into the crafts, we were able to enjoy the evening as our conversations went from one subject to another, all topics relating to faith and the love and trust of God.

The conversation went from our childhood and an amusing story of how one of the girls, S, and her sister lived down the street from us and on every Christmas morning, they would come to our house and see what we got and show us what they got. Sometime before the morning was over, S would manage to break one of my dolls or one of my brother's toys. Since we have gotten older, we have had a big joke about that. She always claims she was a scientist and was curious as to how the doll's eyes would open and shut, then she says in an amusing manner "why take the head off of my own doll to experiment?" You would actually have to hear us joke about it to really gain the amusment of the story. Actually I brought it up because I wanted to tell her how my seven month old grandson is already turning over his toys as if to investigate how they are made.

We touched on our Seventh Day Sabbath keeping, as we are Seventh-Day Adventists, then went on to how Spirituality has been taken out of the schools and yet, Halloween, an annual activity that is supposed to be of Satan, is allowed and no one says anything about it. The conversation then turned to the war and the United States, Iran, Iraq, Kwait, and how all of this relates to prophecy. We drifted on to talking about various evangelists on TBN and that conversation went on for a good season.

Then somehow while discussing things that bring on fear to each of us, I shared that one of our students at the school where I'm employed brought a snake in after having a walk with the class, and started to pull it out of her slieve to show it to me. I am highly frightened to snakes and exclaimed to her not to show it to me, and when she went to another room, I left the building and went to another building of our organization to finish out the day. This lead the conversation to the other two girls expressing their fear of bugs and mice, etc. One of my friends shared a story of how she would react if she went to a person's house to witness about the Bible and discovered mice. My other friend began to share her fear of mice and how she never wants to run into any at a friend's house or anywhere else. S. noticed that my eyes got big and said she thought I was reacting to their mouse tales but little did they both know that because I live in a wooded area and since we have been getting colder weather, I saw a mouse going across the floor one night last week. It startled me because I too am scared of them. I moved and it ran so that told me they are as afraid of me as I am of them. Several times since, I have prayed that there aren't any mice in my house, and all the while we were having our conversations of fear, I was praying to God that he would not allow a mouse to run across the floor. God heard my prayer and the girls were able to go home after enjoying a nice visit with me and without my critter imposing himself upon us while we visited.

My Mother--A Strong Woman

During the floods of 93, my house was pretty damaged by all the rain. The grounds where I live shift, and as a result my basement walls shift also; therefore, causing large cracks in my basement which is made of cement blocks. At that time the basement began to cave causing the basement to look as though the walls were going to simply cave in. Therefore, I had to apply to FEMA for the funds to fix the damages done by the excess rains. Because my house appeared to be dangerous, I had to reside with my parents for approximately a year or so.

My mother suffered from diabetes and occasionally had shortness of breath so bad that she had to use an oxygen tank that my dad bought for her. Since she was so ill and I was having anxiety because I began to fear we were going to loose her; I began seeking professional help. Many times I would just break out crying as she had the terrible pain of gout, and her medicine would make her sick to the stomach and she would endure the pain of gout when not on the medication and when she took it, she became sick to the stomach. Because I was so close to her throughout my life, it became almost unbearable to think about being here without her. Since my dad worked at nights, I would climb in bed with my mother, perhaps trying to hold on to her as long as I could.

At that time, I didn’t realize she was having shortness of breath at night and needed to use her oxygen tank to get her breath. She would ask to use my asthma inhaler to get her breath. Because she didn’t want to stress me out, she would not use her oxygen tank and perhaps suffered it out throughout the night. To show you how God works, one night I told myself that I needed to stop climbing in bed with my mom and sleep in the other bedroom, and this was because I felt I was really too old to be sleeping beside my mother.

Many nights, I would wake up to the sound of my mother using her oxygen tank; trying to get her breath. She was unaware that I could hear her. I realized at that point that it was a good thing that I decided to move to another room because now when she woke up in the middle of the night, she could use her oxygen tank without the fear of stressing me out. I always knew that she was the kind of person who would suffer through illnesses rather than to let on to us that she was ill.

I always marveled as to how, even though she was ill, she would single handedly fix a large Thanksgiving dinner for the whole family so we could all enjoy a wonderful meal together. Cooking was also one of her strong points. She made the best corn-bread dressing ever. Now when Thanksgiving comes around, I am the one who fixes the meal when I'm not invited somewhere else. It is not an easy task and I am fairly healthy, thank God. Throughout her life, my mother endured many hardships from contacting TB of the bone, a “wicked step-mother,” an unfaithful husband who remained unfaithful throughout the marriage and who was abusive during the beginning of their marriage. Although my dad was all of that, he was a good dad, who took very good care of us, and somehow managed to raise us in a Spiritual setting. We (my brother and I) never knew how hurt, unhappy and how much she suffered mentally and physically because she was so strong and because of her love for us, she was able to keep us from seeing how badly she was hurting/suffering.

On June 18, 1995, my worse fear came to light. My parents had gone to a church camp in Kansas City, Mo. After a week or so of Spiritual blessings, they started to return home. They were driving a truck and pulling a trailer. Just 40 miles out of our city, something happened and the truck and trailer turned over and because my parents did not have on their seatbelts, they both went through the window and somehow the truck killed my mother. At times, I can still hear those words as my son told them to me. “We lost grandma on the highway today.” She was the best mom God could give you as we always knew how much she loved us and took much time with us and taught us a lot about life in general and along with my dad, she gave us the love of God. That’s one of the many reasons why I was so close to her.

I RECEIVED MY MEDICARE CARD TODAY!!!!

A medicare card of all things -- WHAT'S UP WITH THAT???? I don't feel like a person on medicare, and most people say I don't look like it, but here I am the mother of two sons in their forties and two in their thirties. I guess I am a candidate for medicare.

Well, momma bear -- you go on with your medicare while you walk two miles around Grays Lake every chance you get and four miles around every now and then, always on the go; and most of all -- hanging with the LORD. He's the reason I feel the way I do -- like one of the kids ready to run and play. That's the way it is when you hang out with the LORD. He's my rock and salvation, my morning star. I believe in Him and know that he controls my life. It's a good feeling to know that the LORD is in your corner and that you have a good solid relationship with Him and he knows how you feel.

Something Funny

I have a four month old grandson. He is a cutie just like his cousin, 'K", yet they have never seen each other because one lives in Texas and one lives here in Iowa.

Every Friday evening I get the privilege to "hang out" with my little (four-month old) grandson. This gives mommy and daddy a little dating time. I enjoy this because it gives me a chance to bond with him so that whenever he sees me, he will know who I am.

B. is not sitting up by himself yet, however, he does with someone holding him in that position. I just sit on the floor with him in front of me and pull the toys close enough so that he can attempt to play with them by batting them around. He has a little train that plays music while going across the floor. B. likes to take the blocks off the train and, of course, put them in his mouth or bat at them. He has several little toys lying around that I pull up to him so he can attempt to grab at them or bat at them.

Today, I talked with "mommy" and she told me they have lots of family over; one of whom is a little cousin about a couple months older than B. Mommy informed me that B was not sharing his toys and that whenever his little cousin tries to play with them, B. makes these baby sounds that tells them he doesn't want his cousin playing with his toys. Can you imagine that, a four-month-old not wanting to share? I got a kick out of that one; but just wait until he gets older -- it won't get any better. I've had issues with this starting with my first son on down to my seventh grandchild and each time I got a kick out of teaching them to share. My 13-year-old granddaughter, M, is still not very good at sharing.

"Are you Going to the Funeral tomorrow?"

Those were the words I heard yesterday right after I answered the phone at my office.

“What Funeral?” I said in a confused expression.

My dad was surprised that I didn’t know what he was talking about. He quickly told me of a young man who was killed a couple days ago and he was related to a family that attends our church.

“The pastor announced it this past Sabbath, didn’t you hear him?” “No I didn’t.”

I had to leave the Sanctuary on business a couple of times so I figured the pastor may have announced it while I was out.

“Daddy,” as I call him, expressed to me his desire to go to this young man’s funeral to pay respects to the family members who he had been good friends over the years.

Today at 11:00 a.m. my 87-year old dad and I attended the funeral of a young 15-year-old teenager who was killed by a hit and run driver who was under the influence of drugs. I had never seen him before but when I looked at the obituary, my heart became full of grief to see such a young person had left this world needlessly because someone who was under the influence of drugs got behind the wheel of a car and in a few careless minutes snuffed out the life of an innocent young man who was just walking down the street.

My mind began to wander as I looked around the room and saw his fellow school peers sitting all around. My eyes then went to the mother as my heart went out to her, knowing how she was feeling sitting there looking at her young son in the casket. I thought about two of my sons who are at odds with each other and have been for over six or seven years. Life is so short and unpredictable. No one knows what the next instant, second minute will bring. I pray that the Lord will not allow a death to bring those two siblings together. I think of how this whole thing happened between my two sons; it was something I said in the spur of a moment, not thinking of how it would drive a wedge between two of the children I love so deeply. I have strived, prayed, manipulated and everything to bring them back together as two loving siblings, but to no avail. Whenever I attend a funeral, this particular circumstance comes to my mind and I become emotional all over again.

After the minister spoke and the viewing began; I went up to see the body of a young person I had never seen before, but all of a sudden my eyes focused on the body and the innocence of the teenaged boy. When I saw the display of grief and tears from his peers, it broke my heart. I wanted to reach out and hug each and every one of them just to let them know that someone really loves them. Even though I didn’t know the young man, who passed away, in my heart it was one of the saddest funerals I attended just because it was a young kid. I love young people (little kids, big kids, teens, and youth) and it hurts me to see what’s happening to them.

A Day filled with Different Emotions

My emotions have been all over the place today. At one point I was feeling pretty onery; sending e-mails to a co-worker in an effort to gross her out, simply because I have been feeling that way of late. Last week I received an e-mail from a friend. The contents was referring to the preparation of foods in Chinese Restaurants. I love Chinese food; and have enjoyed eating at one of my favorite dining establishments here in town with a group of co-workers who gather there with me occasionally to celebrate each other's birthdays. I don't know how much of this e-mail is true but there were attachments with pictures showing rats being prepared as a popular dish there and the pictures were similar to an entre I have favored over the years. Since I don't indulge in eating pork, I usually choose chicken dishes. After reading the e-mail sent to me; I began to wonder if in fact, I have been eating chicken.

This e-mail is not meant to offend anyone nor is it meant to be racist. I am an African-American and am very familiar with racism. After thinking about this and feeling somewhat grossed out, the thought came to mind that people all over the world are different. The food preparation in many different cultures, while they may be very tasteful, may seem gross to someone of another culture. Americans eat racoons, rabbit, pig, and other things that may seem gross to other races. I have heard the dog and cat stories regarding Asians and definitely African-Americans eat pigs feet and Chitlins which I believe are intestines in animals.

Speaking of being grossed out, the other day I was sitting on my couch watching television. I stood up and turned around to see something run across it. It looked to be a waterbug which I haven't seen for years. When I moved the pillow, whatever it was dashed across the rest of the couch. It was gray and appeared to be a healthy looking mouse. I have had to depend on my faith in God just to be able to go into the living room, however, I haven't sat on the couch since. I can't imagine what could have attracted whatever it was because I keep my garbage out, dishes done, etc. However, during the last snow storm, my awning on the front door fell off and it broke the wooden border around the front door and I am in the process of trying to make arrangements to get it fixed, but in the meantime, who knows what could have squeezed through the small opening at the doorway. Therefore, just thinking about that has had me grossed out for several days.

Speaking of being ornery, I was out in front of the office watering the flowers and across the street was a man up at the top level of an apartment complex putting in new windows and painting. Oh, how I wanted to take the hose and sprayer and just turn it up towards him and squirt him. That would have cracked me up, but it's a blessing the spray on the hose wouldn't have reached him because I don't know that man from Adam.

Lastly, after I got home from work, I thought about another e-mail I received from a co-worker that had the obituary of a former co-worker who just died of ALS last Thursday. He was a pleasant person, one of whom I kidded with a lot when he worked with us before he retired. All of a sudden I became saddened and tears began to swell up within me. I would definitely say this was a day filled with different emotions.

Have a blessed day to all of you.

"I've Been Tagged"

"Why do I Love Jesus"

I was tagged a short while back and I think it was Rosemarie. The question is "Why do I Love Jesus.? I had to think about that one for a while, simply because there million reasons to love Jesus and it was hard to put them into the right words. Actually, I was introduced to Jesus at a very young age, in the form of God Himself while sitting on the lap of my dad. Immediately I became impressed while receiving knowledge of Him. I don't know exactly when I was introduced to God the Son, but I feel as though he's been with me all my life.

Sure I find myself questioning things I don't understand every now and then, but it is apparent to me that we don't question God. I love Jesus because He is always here for me. He has and is still doing a great deal for me, my family and many people around me. The testimonies I hear from others are amazing, as though they are unreal, but not.

It is quite hard to imagine the pain and suffering He went through for us. I mean just think, He paid it all, and we are still putting him through misery because we refuse to obey Him and get into His word. I cannot bring myself to watch crucifixion movies; at least the part where he was crucified because it's hard for me to watch anyone suffer and to imagine the extend of His suffering. I'm very sorry that our salvation had to be bought that way, but on the same level, I don't take what he did lightly and am very gratful for his sacrifice. Love is a very strong word, plus the feelings that comes with it. "Why do I love Jesus?" He follows me around in my heart, and through the Holy Spirit, He keeps me in line (that is, if I listen to Him). Every time I do something wrong or think to do something wrong, the Spirit of God let's me know it. When I pray, the Lord hears my prayers because Jesus intercedes for me and that tells me Jesus loves me and He is in my corner. I am blessed to have Him in my life because I know He will lead me to salvatiion and oh, I can't imagine what it will be like in Heaven and then we will be able to see him; talk to him, hug him and much more. Therefore, I say "Why do I love Jesus?" Because He first loved me, and He proved it.

The Wallet

Received an e-mail this morning from Mrs. Buck (whose dad had come to visit the family last week); it read:

Your First Born was complaining to my dad last week because I accidentally washed his wallet. It completely fell apart and all of his cards, money and stuff were scattered throughout the washing machine. He said I owed him a new wallet. Well, I didn’t go get one so, he got a new one himself. This morning he showed it to "K" and said, “It’s Mommy’s job to check all of my pockets before she washes my clothes!” I said, “No, it is your job to empty your pockets before your clothes go in the hamper (if they make it there).” "K" said, “I agree with Dad!” I told Buck that I was going to tell his mom on him, so there!
Mom says -- "We women must stick together; therefore, he needs to empty his pockets before they end up on the floor, I mean in the hamper." That's Brotha Buck for you. ha, ha

Related thought: Wonder what her dad's reaction to that was.

HOW DOES IT FEEL???

(This post was written a couple of months ago when I thought I was able to post again -- just wanted to share this with you).

To open a newly published book, illustrated by your son who has followed his dream of being an illustrator of children’s books for the better part of his life and read on the inside of the dedication page “Thank God for my mom, my biggest fan, best supporter, and most enthusiastic cheerleader.” How does it feel when you see the results of raising a young man who had the self determination he has always had? To watch him pursue his dreams in spite of those people who came at him with negativisms such as, you will not make it as an illustrator because the field is not lucrative, especially in Iowa,” “You should not take that in college, you won’t make it,” “There’s not enough money in that kind of work, etc.; “yet he goes right ahead and sets out to claim his dream no matter what, and makes a complete success of it. I saw the same drive in his paternal aunt who had no support from anyone except for her God and her determination to prove to the world that no matter what, she would become a success and now they are both acclaimed in their field.

How does it feel when you open beautiful cards from your daughter-in-law with wonderful expressions of love, admiration, thank you expressions and Spiritual sentiments and prayers?

How does it feel when you pick up the phone and a four year old little voice is on your voice message reciting the One-Hundredth Psalm and ends by saying “I love you.” That little voice is five-years-old now and I still have the message he left saved.

Then one day you receive a card in the mail for Easter with a newspaper article about your son, telling a story about an experience he had talking to a bunch of kids behind bars about his experiences as a children’s book illustrator and how he is now writing books. You turn the page an read on when all of a sudden these words reach out and grab you as they say “by all accounts my future should have been dim, but I had three things; I had enthusiasm, a desire to succeed and a mother who cheered my every dream.”

This makes you feel so overwhelmed with joy that tears swell up in you like a balloon that is about to burst. These are not tears of sorrow, but tears of happiness, such happiness that you cannot describe. I thank God for what he has done for me. Many times I wish I hadn’t married the father of my children but when I think of the legacy that came out of that marriage (four awesome sons), I would say that it was worth it.

Here I go again, trying to get back into the swing of things. It's been a looooooong haul but I hope this is the end of trying to recapture my blogspot and that I will at last be able to post and comment. Pray for me out there in blog land.

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