"You Think It's Hot Here!"

I'm always straining my neck to read church signs as we drive around the country. Some are funny. You know, like, "Don't wait for the hearse to take you to church." Or, "You think it's hot here, the weather in hell never changes." Yes, I laughed too, but cringed as well. Not likely to draw nonbelievers to Christ.
But one I saw lately read: "Seven days without prayer makes one weak." A play on words. I like those. Anyway, it led me here and there and around again with my thoughts. Is it prayer that actually makes you strong? No, I thought, it's Christ's strength. We're always weak, no matter how much we pray. Prayer can go no higher than the ceiling. But he's never weak. He's the source of strength.
Prayer is necessary, however. You remember in the Gospel of Mark when the disciples couldn't cast out the demon from the boy (Mark 9)? Jesus had given them authority over the demons, but this time they failed. When they asked him why, Jesus told them lack of prayer. They must have begun taking this power for granted, thinking they had this power within themselves. After all, they had been exorcising demons. What happened? They hadn't been prayerfully looking to God. That was a big mistake. Jesus is the source of our strength. When we try to go it on our own, we're in trouble. As someone said, "When you try to do it by your natural abilities alone, it's exhausting!" And, sometimes, it's impossible.

Not Just Another Dog

Some would say she's just another dog, but they would be wrong. Of all the dogs I've known, she's the best. When the doorbell rings, the hair rises on her neck and she has a ferocious bark, but she's a pacifist at heart. She's all love, not war.
She's not my dog. She belongs to my son-in-law and daughter. She's a golden Labrador named Lady. After first making her acquaintance I made the mistake of giving her a good all over scratch. That was it for her. I became the person who gives great back scratches. Whenever I come over, she heads for me with that pleading look in her big brown eyes we both know the meaning of. They don't like for her to beg at the table, but once in a while when she's not put outside soon enough, I feel a warm head on my knee under the table and looking up are those same eyes with another look we both know the meaning of.
One day Lady quit playing with her toys. I'm not sure when it was, but one day she didn't run up with a toy for me to try to grab away from her. After that, it seemed all of a sudden she walked slower and needed help getting into the golf cart for a ride. Was Lady getting old so soon? Then she started showing signs of a stroke. She began walking in circles and she forgot how to back up, so she would get stuck in a corner and have to be rescued several times a day. She began to lose weight and her hair started coming out. Last night, I noticed she was dragging a back leg when she got up to be let outside. Today my daughter called to let me know Lady was making her last trip to the vet today.
As much as Lady forgot, one thing she never forgot. Last night before she had to be helped outside and then helped back onto her ottoman, she walked slowly over to me for the last back scratch from her long time designated back scratcher.

NCIS Addict

I’m an NCIS fan. I love Tony and Ziva and McGee and Abby and Ducky and Palmer, and, yes, even Gibbs. I wouldn’t want to work for Gibbs because I’ve had a boss like him and he made my life miserable, interesting, but miserable. But like these agents, I learned a lot from this boss, and that’s one of the reasons I hung in there. I’m just happy he didn’t see NCIS or we may have been slapped in the back of our heads a few times. The guys for sure.
I’ve tried to analyze why this series is so popular. It has fans from across the generations. I do think it helps the generations to understand each other’s peculiarities better. And maybe appreciate them more as well. Gibbs is the father figure. Tony is big brother and McGee is little brother. Gibbs obviously likes the girls better, treating them like daughters. Of course, there’s the usual fare of sex and violence expected of today’s cop shows, but this one is different. They’re family, and maybe that’s what people desire to see. We look in every week to share in the NCIS family life.
I’m a fan on Facebook as well, so I get previews of coming attractions. That’s how I knew Abby would be a presenter on the Grammys. She looked so cute, and she didn’t have all those tattoos she has on the show. My only concern is that something will happen to one of my favorite characters. It seems the women agents and directors are particularly vulnerable.
Oh, got to watch the clock, today is NCIS marathon day and another episode’s coming on in five minutes.

Typing Blind

I’ve had some minor surgery on my eyes, if anything related to surgery and eyes can be termed minor. This is the third day, and I’m ready for the healing to begin. Enough of ice packs and sleeping in Ed’s recliner at night. There’s no pain, but the gel in my eyes causes them to be blurry, so I can’t read, check my email, watch TV, drive. It’s frustrating. Today my eyes have begun to itch, and I can’t scratch either. My daughters have been hovering over me, concerned that all goes well. It’s not life threatening or sight threatening, but I appreciate their concern anyway.
You may wonder how I’m writing this blog. As long as I have my fingers on the right keys, I can type away without seeing what I’m doing. I have Tina check on me occasionally to see if I’m typing gibberish. I’m sure lessons can be learned from this experience, besides patience, that is, but I don’t know what they are yet. Maybe if I type long enough something will come to me.
There is one thing I need to confess. I’ve had plenty of time to think in the last few days, and I need to get this off my chest. Last year, I fof I dhsry kru,brtomh orkflsddrromy/ orkflsddrromy/myhjomhm, fkfo/ I feel better now.

A Family Moment

It was Valentine's Day weekend and a daughter and her husband and Ed and I were driving to meet another daughter at Sweetie Pie's rib eye steakhouse in Decatur, Texas. My daughter, nameless at her request, said to her husband: "You mentioned to Mamma (her grandmother) to notice Tina's new haircut. I wonder if she remembered to notice."

"No, I didn't say that," he answered, "you said it."

"No, I didn't say it. You said it."

"No, I didn't say it.

"Well, someone said it," my daughter said.

My husband then said, "I said it."

"You said it?" She queried.

By this time, I was laughing because it was turning into a "Who's on first" moment.

"Well, if we can't decide who said it, I'll say I said it," I said.

Somehow my daughter didn't see the humor, but later when she asked Tina if Mamma had noticed her new haircut, she could hardly tell the story for laughing. All three of us laughed until we cried. Our husbands question our sanity sometimes.

Did Mamma notice? Yes, she did.

My Heart Hurts

She's beautiful and talented and articulate, a woman, a politician, a Jew, a Democrat. She was in the crosshairs, a target all right. She's barely alive; six people are dead. I'm angry and I'm disgusted and I'm also saddened and so disappointed with the radical politics in this country. You could see it coming. The hateful radio and TV talk shows, the black humor, the politicians spouting off outright lies to either obtain or maintain their offices. Of course, the political pundits are pointing fingers every way but their way. No, they're not to blame, they say.

Some say this nation needs a soul-searching. Yes, on one hand we call ourselves a Christian nation and on the other, we sling around slanderous remarks about our fellow citizens and laugh about it. Six dead and 14 injured. Why does it take a horrific tragedy to make us think. My heart hurts.

I'm Trying, Lord!

It's a new year. A time to think about what I want to accomplish this year. Surely I can come up with more than just changing the date of my last year's resolutions from 2010 to 2011. And, I have to ask myself several questions: Why are last year's goals still this year's goals? Did I have too many? Was I unrealistic? Am I setting myself up to fail again this year?

I'm trying to come up with a workable schedule for my 2011 goals, but it seems impossible to fit everything in. I remember thinking longingly about all the extra time I would have to do all I wanted when I retired, but I seem busier than ever. Not to mention the time I need to rest. Can you believe it? Scheduling in time to rest? But that's reality for me now.

First on my priorities, to be what some call "in the Word." Not sure exactly what that means, but I'm reading 1 Peter this morning: "Therefore prepare your minds for action; discipline yourselves; set all your hope on the grace that Jesus Christ will bring you when he is revealed." I'm trying, Lord. I'm trying. Thank the Lord for his grace!