New year, new computer….

My old computer gave up the ghost this past week.

It has been on a slow meltdown for some time now.

The CD drive quit working about a year ago.

Two of the three USB ports stopped working over the past six months.

The webcam has been out of commission for a very long time.

And then the blue screen of death occurred this past week.

Just in time for a new semester.

And a new commitment to serve as host for an online Bible study.

So I have a new computer.

And I’m slowly reloading all of my very important stuff…

pictures

addresses

websites.

Only to discover that I had “remember this password” clicked on all of the websites and programs on the old computer so that I would never need to ever remember any password.

And so I have spent the afternoon,

sifting through pictures,

updating address books,

and trying to remember passwords.

I love technology.

And I love the new computer that I have.  I love the screen savers that look like photos of places I would like to visit.

I love the wide screen and the fast keys and the light weight.

I love being able to go online and see and talk with my family and friends with the webcam.

And I love that I was finally able to remember the password to get in to my blog and get this message posted.

And for those who see that I have not posted anything to this blog since last June or July, please know that it was a long and trying autumn.  I am in a slight period of hibernation but am anticipating to coming back to full speed as the days lengthen and warm up again!

Home is where your heart is…

We recently closed on the sale of our home in Burleson.

The home that I thought I would never move from, that we thought was the perfect place to spend the rest of our lives.

Set on an acre of land, it had a workshop for Jess, and hobby house (that was crammed with stuff) for me, and plenty of space for the family to all be together.

It was the house where my grandkids spent weekends (and weeks) with me, playing on the rope swing, swimming in the pool, hunting Easter eggs, carving pumpkins, building snowmen, and decorating Christmas trees.

It was the house where we planted roses in memory of relatives who are no longer part of this world, along with the little pine tree that was my dad’s last Christmas tree (a little tiny “live tree” that came in a 12 inch pot, that has now grown to be a 5 foot pine tree), irises that had been passed from my great-grandmother to my grandmother to my mother to me, and ferns to cover the spots where our beloved pets Moe and Tilly were buried.

To say that it was a bittersweet moment would be an understatement.

You see, I have spent most of my life moving. My dad was in powerline work, and we relocated often, because he was transferred to different locations on a frequent basis. It was not a bad life. I rather enjoyed seeing new country (sometimes seeing the same country for a second or third time), and meeting new people. And, I loved being the new kid in school. Over my 13 years of public education, from kindergarten to high school graduation, I changed schools 23 times. I never had to complete a term paper until I hit my senior year!

Through my childhood years, we lived in some great houses. Some were brand new, in little neighborhoods, where we grew flowers and trees and great friendships that have lasted through the years.

And some were old houses, surrounded by orange trees and horse pastures,  with only a fireplace and wood cook stove to provide heat through the cold winters.

After my brothers left home, my parents bought a trailer for us to live in, which made moving so much simpler. Just tape down the cabinets and hitch on, and we were off to a new adventure. It made perfect sense!

 But, after I left home, I wanted to be settled. I wanted my kids to live in the same house and to go to the same school from kinder to graduation, and to have a place to come home to with their children.

My dreams were of a big house with a huge porch, surrounded by trees and flowers, with neighbors and friends and relatives popping in for iced tea and nice visits and lots of kids and maybe a few puppies and cats.

Evidently, that is not what God wanted for me.

In my adult life, I have averaged a major move every seven years. I’ve lived in tents , travel trailers, apartments, mobile homes, old dilapidated shacks and nice brick houses. What I’ve learned from all my moving is that a house is just a building, made of wood or brick or metal, and can be bought or sold or destroyed. A home is made in your heart, and is something that no one can build, sell, or destroy.

We have found a nice little house here in San Antonio. It has a little porch on the front and a small yard in the back. I have transplanted a few of the flowers I had in Burleson, some of the roses, a lot of the irises, starts from the lilies and ferns that grew over our old pets. I have met nice neighbors and I’ve had relatives who drop by for a glass of iced tea and spend a few minutes just visiting. The grandkids have been here and have given it their stamp of approval. A pair of puppies have adopted us and make their home in our house and are slowly working their way into our hearts, although Jinx is still the lord of the manor.

I am hoping that God will decide to extend my tenure at this house, as it is becoming more comfortable as pictures are placed on walls, boxes are unpacked and items are put into their proper places. It’s nice to be home.

Home is where the heart is…

Performed by Elvis (like who else can do that song?)…I’m not too crazy about the slideshow that is here but I do love the song.

IMG-20110711-00433

The Morning After

So, it’s Easter Monday, the morning after the Resurrection day…I wonder what the disciples were thinking on this day?

The past week had to have been one of the most exciting, challenging, uplifting, depressing, devastating weeks that the twelve disciples could have ever lived.

Starting with Palm Sunday, coming to Jerusalem, seeing the crowds of people placing the palm leaves ahead of the Messiah. Things were finally falling in place for their leader!

Monday, watching the frustration and anger as Jesus went about cleaning out the temple (again). Oh, and watching Him pass by that fig tree and giving it a good cursing. Not the most cheerful of days.

Tuesday, a run-in with the local law, along with a trip up the Mount of Olives for what would become the last of His teaching opportunities, clinging to His words, still not realizing that His kingdom that was “at hand” was not a kingdom of the world as they knew it.

Wednesday…it must have been the calm before the storm, it’s a quiet time in the gospels.

Thursday started with the high emotions of the Passover dinner in the upper room, sharing the traditions of their forefathers, but then things started going downhill so soon after: the sadness and grief as He prayed in the garden, followed by the acceptance of what was to come: the betrayal, the arrest, the false trial and conviction of their leader.

Friday, they were struck with grief as they watched their loved one die on that cross. Shock that one of their very own group could be so shallow and selfish as to sell out their leader. Removing His body from that cross, taking it to a tomb, a borrowed one at that, and having to just leave it there, not being properly prepared for burial. Having to hurry back to their homes before the Sabbath began, as there was no time to properly grieve their loss.

Saturday must have been a day filled with shock. I can imagine the disciples feeling shattered, betrayed, and abandoned. The very worst had happened. How could He have allowed Himself to be crucified? How could one of their own have turned against their leader? Had they just wasted the past 3 years of their lives on a wild, crazy dream of a new way of life, giving up everything they owned, to follow someone who had so much to promise, and instead, who was to be betrayed and judged and crucified, just like the two criminals whose crosses flanked His? I’m sure they were exhausted…physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually.

But then, came Sunday, with the women of the group coming to the tomb to take care of the body, instead, finding it empty, seeing the angels, seeing the LORD, the RISEN LORD!

I’m thinking of how these women must have run to tell the disciples, then coming back to the tomb yet again, seeing Him standing there, reaching out to show them His hands, to prove that He was really their Jesus, and that He really was alive! What excitement, joy, relief, and awe they must have felt, when they were able to see and talk with Him again!

What an incredibly great ending to an otherwise hopeless week!

And now, it’s Monday. There’s always a Monday to follow the weekend, isn’t there? Back to work, back to the routine and the job that is set before you.

Was it business as usual for the disciples? Did they just get up and go about their day, off to the fishing boats, back to the lives that they led before they started following Jesus? Was the Resurrection just a happy memory of a great day? Was it something to put on the calendar … something to plan to celebrate again at this same time next year? Oh, I think not!

Because the story didn’t end on Easter Sunday.   The disciples had been given a mission straight from the lips of the risen Lord Himself. These disciples, who had been in training for three years, now had the business of sharing the full story of good news…that little baby who was born in Bethlehem, who grew to be the man called Jesus, who was crucified in Jerusalem, is now alive again and is the Messiah! They were given the task to share the news that He lives…that Jesus Christ is the only Son of God, that He was crucified, and that by believing in Him your sins are forgiven, and that He is with you always. And that same mission has been given to each who believe.  With whom will you share the good news of the risen Christ?

Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, 20 and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age. Matthew 28: 19-20

And, one of my favorite gospel hymns…performed by the Gaither Vocal Band

Because He Lives…

posted to youtube by mrayburn8743

 

 

The morning chirp

My feathered and furry friends provided my entertainment as I enjoyed my  coffee this morning.   This is my take on their morning conversation… 

“Hey Red….how’s it going?”

“Not bad. Great day here in the yard. Lots of worms and bugs out after they watered last night.”

“Should be good pickings this morning.”

“Hey, speaking of pickings…did you see that silly squirrel…he’s been hogging the whole feeder!”

“Yeah, he makes a big mess!  All the  the good stuff ends up on the ground. Oh well, it makes it better for the big birds.”

“That’s for sure, because they don’t fit in this little feeder!”

“So maybe the best idea is to just scarf up the stuff that’s on the ground instead of trying to fit into the house.”

“Yep, and then there’s that little birdbrain who takes up the whole water pan.

You’d think it was a birdbath or something!”

“Well, got to wing it out of here. Good chirping with you!”

I can only imagine…

My sister-in-law, Faye, lost her battle with cancer this week. It was short, but fierce.  At first, she said that she wasn’t going to fight the cancer. She was going for ‘quality over quantity’ for the days that she had left to her. But, then she got her legs under her and she came out scrapping. She may have lost the battle, but she won the war. She won, because the things that made Fay HER are still here…

She was the only daughter in a family of boys. She learned at an early age how to play and fight. And she did. She could out-wit, out-play, and out-slug the best of them.

She loved to laugh.

She loved her family. She loved her husband, the sons that were born to her, the daughters that came to her as part of that marriage, and the girls that her boys loved and married. She loved her grandkids, and one of her greatest joys was that she was in the rooms when three of them were born. She loved her cousins and her inlaws, and she even loved her outlaws. If you are reading this and you knew Faye, you can rest assured that she loved you, too. I hope she knew how much we loved her. 

She believed in forgiveness. And second chances. And even third chances when necessary.

She loved roses, all kinds of roses. But she loved yellow ones best.

She loved angels. Her room was full of them. She loved their beauty and loved that they were here to protect us.

She loved Jesus Christ as her Lord and Savior. And she worshipped Him in her own special way. She loved to read the Christmas story. Every year, after Christmas Eve had slowed down, she and I would read it at the same time, even though we were separated by the miles. It was our little tradition to each other.

I would have loved to have seen her face when she first opened her eyes in heaven. I can only imagine how it was for her to see the most ‘beautimous’ place ever, to see her family and friends who were there first, to see her angels, and to see her Jesus. I can see her jaw dropping, her smile breaking across her face, and then, I can hear her say, with a big laugh and a quiet little voice:

“Hot damn, ain’t this something!”

I Can Only Imagine

 

 

I Can Only Imagine, posted to You Tube by Matthew Sgherzi . Words and Music by Bart Millard. Yellow Rose image by FlowersYard.com.

Strength and courage (weak and afraid)

My morning Bible readings come from Joshua, chapter 1.  A bit of background…the Israelites have left Egypt, wandered around for 40 years, and have finally reached the Jordan River.  This is only after they griped and grumbled about everything that God had given them in the way of heavenly sprovisions, manna from heaven, water from rocks.  They had recieved the commandments to keep their civilization in proper working order  (10 little rules…I wonder if God made 10 so that we could use our fingers as reminders?) and then broke each one, along with a whole lot of idol worship and mingling with the wrong types of people in the new lands they were entering. And then, poor old Moses, after listening to them and trying to herd them (remember, he was a shepherd in his earlier life) along to the Promised Land, just lost all patience and threw down his rod and had a little fit, which cost him the benefit of getting to cross over to the Promised Land.  The ultimate time-out in God’s naughty corner.  He went up to the mountain and died, and only God Himself was there to bury him.  So now we’re at the part where  the original generation that left Egypt has all died, and Joshua takes over to lead the younger folks over the river.  And this is where the story hits me… three verses of this passage just clobbered me.  The first is  ”Be strong and courageous.”  God is telling Joshua that he (Joshua) will lead the people into the land that He (God) had promised to them. He is telling me that He will keep His promises to me. The second set is a bit more emphatic… “Be strong and very courageous”…telling them (and me) to be careful to obey all those laws and rules that came down the mountain with Moses.  It takes a LOT of courage to keep God’s rules in today’s society.  I’m sure it took a lot to keep them in Joshua’s day, too.  So anyway, I took the first two accounts of this as God giving His children a bit of gentle encouragement.  “You can do this.  Just load up your stuff and step out into that river. You can do it.  First one foot, then the other.  Cross over and see what I’ve got waiting for you. Just be sure to keep to the path that I’ve given you and you’ll be just fine.  You have everything you need to make it all work.” 

The Crossing / kroyall

But then I came to the third round of these words.  They are prefaced with “Have I not commanded you?  Be strong and courageous.”  and the follow-up…”to not be terrified or discouraged, for the Lord your (my) God will be with you where ever you go”.

There are many times in my life when I am not strong and definitely do not feel courageous.  There are times when I am afraid to see what is coming my way in the next day  (or even the next hour).  There are times when I feel like things are trying to tear me apart.  And now I see that God is not only encouraging, but commanding,  me  to be strong and courageous.  I can’t do this on my own.  It is only through His love that I can find the strength and courage to do what is set before me.  And in this comes the comfort to know that my Lord is there, where ever I am in my life.

I wonder what you have that is discouraging or terrifying in your life?  Maybe you have lost a job or your home. Or your family has come un-done.  Or maybe you are facing the time to cross that river and leave this life behind.  Maybe someone who is very close to you is at that river and about to cross into eternity, and you are about to face life without them. I am praying that you will find comfort and strength and courage in God’s promise, that He will be there where ever you are, through His Son, Jesus Christ.
  My song for the day is none other than ‘Precious Lord, (Take my hand)”. Many people have performed this song, but the rendition that is always my favorite is by Tennessee Ernie Ford.  It was on an old album that was worn thin through the many playings on the old family stereo, and it always bring peace and comfort to my troubled heart and mind.   I hope that it will do the same for you.

Precious Lord, take my hand
Lead me on,
Let me stand
I’m tired, I am weak I am worn
Through the storm, through the night
Lead me on to the light
Take my hand precious Lord, lead me home
When my way grows drear precious Lord linger near
When my life is almost gone
Hear my cry,
Hear my call
Hold my hand lest I fall
Take my hand precious Lord, lead me home
When the darkness appears and the night draws near
And the day is past and gone
At the river I stand
Guide my feet,
Hold my hand
Take my hand precious Lord, lead me home
Precious Lord, take my hand
Lead me on,
Let me stand
I am tired, I am weak, I am worn
Through the storm, through the night
Lead me on to the light
Take my hand precious Lord, lead me home.   Written by Tommy Dorsey, performed by Tennessee Ernie Ford, posted to youtube by Nocaro.

Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous.Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go.” Joshua 1:9 (New International Version, ©2011) ⁹

 

I have had enough of the boxing/unboxing routine to last a while.  I have made enough of a dent to have the kitchen under control and the linen closets in order. That’s enough for a while.  Spring is springing, and  the warm weather, sunshine, and racks of tomato plants at every store I go to make me need to be outside.                           

 

Needing to be outside means that I need to work up the vegetable garden. 
Needing to work up the vegetable garden means I need to prune back all the weeds that cover the fence line along the spot that is designated for tomatoes.

 

Pruning back the weeds means using the big huge pruning shears, and taking those big weeds out at ground level. (plus it’s excellent upper body exercise and being outside is a great source of much-needed vitamin D).  And so, I took the day off from the unpacking and took the pruning shears and the garden gloves out to the appointed site and got after it.

After a couple of hours of clipping and dragging brush to the garden gate, I took a tea break, and decided it was time to check on my online students.

          

I figured it would take about 15 minutes, so I clicked in to my trusty laptop, expecting to make a fast connection, but instead, I found that I had no wireless Internet service coming to my computer.  I restarted the computer, nothing.  Then I reset the modem, still nothing. And then  I reset the computer again, with nada results.  And so finally, I read the instructions (YES).  I had gone through all the correct steps, and in very fine print at the bottom of the instructions, it said that if you still had no connection, call your service person.

And so I called Mike the service guy, who asked me if I had gone through all the steps on the instructions (yes), and then asked me to trace back what I had been doing between the connection working in the morning and it not working in the afternoon. When I told him that I had spent the day pruning the brush in the backyard near the fenceline, he told me that he would be here in 10 minutes.  And he was.

That’s when I learned  that my wireless Internet is really not wireless at all.  Instead, it’s connected to a big, black wire that runs from a big, ugly, green phone company box that sits outside the fence to a little white box that sits on the side of the house. That wire was supposed to be running underground but through the years it had surfaced and had mingled with the vines and weeds that were being clipped and pruned to make room for my tomato plants. 
Mike the nice ATT service guy soon found the two ends of my wireless wire and  glued them back together for me. He also called in a request to have someone come and bury the line.  I hope they bury it at least 3 or 4 inches deep.

Mike the ATT guy also suggested that I hang up the pruning shears and stick to the smaller clippers, trowels and spade.  

Maybe raised gardening would work better for me?

Here comes the sun!

This is what greeted me this morning…God’s beautiful sunrise, shining over the snow like a sprinkle of diamonds. 

Proof again, after the cold, the ice, the snow, the wind…whatever the storms of life, He still shines through.

Eyes on the sparrow

Recent weather woes have caused me a slight depression…but then, after three or four days of constant gray skies and icy roads, God sent snow.  And sunshine.  And birds.  And a beautiful song to remind me think that I have no reason to be discouraged or depressed.  For my God takes care of the sparrows, He surely will take care of me.

 His Eye is on the Sparrow,  Lyrics by Civilla D. Martin, Photos by Kathy Royall, 2011.   Here’s a great rendition of this great song, performed by one of my favorite singers, Lynda Randel.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=381RTQmflYs