Keys Conundrum

5/12/10 Do not read this if you are Larry or a “burglaring blog reader.”
Why do things always seem to go awry when Larry’s out of town. Maybe they do go awry a lot but he’s just always there to make ‘em better and quickly.
Late yesterday, after meeting friend, Ann, for a little exercise, the plan was to go to dinner and to her house to help acquaint her with her new iMac. Though in her 8th decade Ann’s sharp as a tack/tech savvy and still keeping up with computer changes. The problem was my car wouldn’t start. Initial diagnosis---dead battery. I had wondered what that “dinging” sound was when I went to get out of the car. It stopped when I closed door so I hadn’t worried. (You’re probably thinking the “dinging” sound was coming from my ding bat mind—and rightfully so.)

Eventually found a kind young man, now dubbed “angel Donnie” to boost me. The problem was we couldn’t find the battery connectors (or what ever those sticking up pos/neg things are that are either under the hood or in the trunk.

No cell phone ….but Ann had hers. Of course, Larry’s phone was off---golfers don’t like to be disturbed. Finally reached “go-to” car expert, Abe, who told me it was under the back seat. Who would have ever thought that---or planned it??? Certainly not a woman. He also explained how I would have to position myself so that I could push down with my feet at an angle against the seat as I pulled up with my hands. Hm-m-m. After a few tries it did work---the whole bloomin’ thing pulled out.

After boosting my old lady caddy, my rescuer suggested I go to Auto Zone for a free battery check. Did that---left car running while I went in---AZ doesn’t ck my kind of batteries---too hard to get to—sent me to Firestone---

Continuing saga synopsis:

• Car info said battery okay

• Kept car running at Ann’s gated community during computer time

• Drove home, turned car off (again per Larry’s instructions & w/ Abe on stand-by) Car restarted

• This morning--Leaving for work---no keys—having disassembled “regular” keychain during fiasco

• Find Larry’s key in key box---

• No house or work key---

• Ck storeroom for “hidden” door key before locking ---Knocked spare house key off into a black hole (probably went into 1 of 4 upright & full golf bags) & even a flashlight didn’t help locate

• Decided to just leave house unlocked----

• Walking in to work I “unloaded” on fellow librarian, Angie

• She suggested L’s keys might have house key---Wa-lah, they did (Duh)

• No work key, so she unlocked library for me---

• Larry called and I explained morning key trauma/unlocked house, etc--said I was grateful he left Cadillac key at home---

• He didn’t----had it in his hand----

Opps---those were my keys all along!!!!!!!!

Conundrum, indeed!

II Timothy 1:7 says, “For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind”

Today I will have to pray that He will help my unbelief about my “sound mind.”

The Cancer Dance

5/11/10 Nancy Gibbs essay for this week’s TIME magazine offered food for thought.

“Cancer hands you red-hot shoes and makes you dance with death everyday for the rest of your life. So, the question is, Who gets to lead? And what can the rest of us learn from watching?”

For sometime now, this blogger has been asking others to consider, along with her, these very same questions. These questions aren’t cancer specific. It’s just that cancer or other catastrophic diseases can bring such questions to the forefront of our thinking.

Certainly in those first weeks after my diagnosis, I worked on getting my affairs in order with lawyers and living wills, info in files and letters to kids. But more than that, I wanted assurance. Assurance that, in the event of my death, my friends would “take on my absence” from my family by filling in the gaps of my life for them. My kids know me (sometimes better than I know myself) but I wanted my “grands” to know personal things about their “Shug.”
My dear friend, Pam, has taken hold of this idea. She has a “cupcake” party each summer for her friends and their grandchildren. We are all introduced by our granny names. It’s a casual way of initiating our “grands” to each other and to us, the grandmas. It’s an unspoken assurance that we’ll be there to carry on those values, that we all hold dear, to each other’s grands if one of us passes away. A passing on of the traditions and the values, which we have shared, through the years.

In my "dance", I have asked the Lord to lead and have tried to share with others what I’m learning. What I am learning is the importance of relationships---a vertical relationship with the Lord that extends horizontally to my family and friends. A community of faith. A fellowship of friends who are committed to going the distance with each other even when one is wearing “red-hot cancer shoes.”

Not my “cup of tea”………….

5/10/10 There are things in life that just aren’t my cup of tea. Cats are the first that come to mind. Before you start throwing tomatoes (or cat litter) at the screen please understand that I am terrified of cats. I think it’s called, ailurophobia, a persistent, irrational fear of cats. Doesn’t matter that I know it’s irrational, it’s still there and has been as long as I can remember. Therapy for it is financially prohibitive so friends (especially the Ridleys) and family accept it as a part of who I am and just run interference for me. For that, I am grateful.
We all have those things that are just not to our liking. In Jan Karon’s wonderful books, The Mitford Series she uses Father Tim’s wife, Cynthia, as an example of one who has very few things she doesn’t like. Just not her “cup of tea.” Often her husband would ask her, “ Is there anything you don’t love?” Depending on the situation she would give her short list. “Crows feet, age spots and good-byes.” I can understand the goodbyes. Those are difficult for me as well, especially if I know I won’t see someone again for a long time or maybe never.

But my short list would also include: a complaining spirit, in myself or others; litterbugs especially those who think a cigarette butt is not litter; rudeness; attitudes of entitlement rather than gratitude; and rationalizing rule breakers who think rules are made for others, not them (ie. handicap parking spots and school speed zones)

Yesterday, Pastor Cole mentioned murmurings and disputings as something not to his liking. He equated it to horses in a parade, "dropping" every 50 feet or so. (stinks and sounds messy to clean up)
I came across a list in Romans 1 of things that I think would not be God’s “cup of tea” ---not acknowledging Him, greed, envy, deceit, gossip, unloving, unmerciful and applauding (or condoning) those (especially celebrities) who practice evil, to mention a few. Parenthetical notes are mine.

I don’t want to be on God’s short list, do you? It’s certainly something to think about on this meditating Monday.

Romans 1:28-32 And just as they did not see fit to acknowledge God any longer, God gave them over to a depraved mind, to do those things which are not proper, being filled with all unrighteousness, wickedness, greed, evil; full of envy, murder, strife, deceit, malice; they are gossips, slanderers, haters of God, insolent, arrogant, boastful, inventors of evil, disobedient to parents, without understanding, untrustworthy, unloving, unmerciful; and although they know the ordinance of God, that those who practice such things are worthy of death, they not only do the same, but also give hearty approval to those who practice them.

Remembering Mother -- Mildred Davenport Adams (aka Gigi)

5/9/10 I have a rose bush in my side yard. Not “knock out roses” ---more the kind that look a little scraggly but still have a fragrance. Owen found it last night. I’ve been thinking about it ever since.
As a child, I remember always wearing a red rose on my dress to church on Mother’s Day. You got to wear a red one if your mother was still living. You wore a white one if your mother was dead. That seemed so morbid to me as a young girl. It also seemed to me that only old people wore a white rose or a fancy cymbidium orchid corsage. The only friend I had who would have worn a white one was Carolyn Cowherd and she went to the Church of Christ, not my church, so I never had to come face to face with that fear. But it was a fear! More than seeing all the roses as a way of honoring mothers, I saw them as a clear delineation of life or death.

We snipped the rose buds out of our backyard just before going to church. They were tiny, deep red roses that would open wide when in full bloom and smelled wonderful. Mother would cut one for all of us---even my brothers had one pinned to their left shirt pocket or the lapel of their sport coat as they grew older. None of us ever thought about not wearing our “Mother’s Day” rose.
At church, everyone else in Sunday School would have on their rose as well. Then we would all head into the big First Methodist sanctuary to “our pew” and join our parents for the 11 o’clock service.

It was tradition. Though rose bushes are in full bloom all over Memphis this week, I wonder if kids will have a bud pinned into their lapels. Over the years I’ve noticed a decline in this tradition. Only a few “older” women wear a corsage. I don’t know if that it is still true in my hometown or not as I have not been there on Mother’s Day in 10 years. May 2001, I was going home Mother’s Day weekend to attend church with Mother and to wear my red rose. I was afraid it might be my last time to wear a red one. Indeed it was. It was hard to come face to face with that old fear. To make matters worse, I got sick and was unable to travel that weekend. It’s one of my big regrets.

This Mother’s Day, I remember Mother and wish I could wear that red rose. I vividly remember her tall frame, beautiful thick hair and perfectly “made” face, gorgeous clothes and impeccable house, with windows so clean they were the "talk of the town." My children will remember their “Gigi” as well, because she continued to be their cheerleader just as she had been mine.

This morning as I walked toward the house after picking up the Commercial Appeal, I sidetracked to that sideyard rose bush and clipped one---a bright red one. Even as an adult it’s too chilling a thought to think that I would have to wear a white rose.

I’ve decided to acknowledge that Mother is very much alive in my heart and actions. I think that would honor her. So, that’s what I’ll celebrate today.

Amazing isn’t it---what memories a single red rose clipped from a sideyard bush can cause to flow through your head and into your heart!.

“My cup of tea”…………what’s yours?

5/6/10 Figuratively speaking, that phrase “my cup of tea” can describe something that one prefers or desires---often taking on the essence of who we are---an outward manifestation of sorts.
A big reading chair. (bookshelf nearby with cozy mysteries & reading glasses) A big chair for prayer. (bookshelf nearby with Bible study tools, journals & reading glasses) Both areas have a coaster nearby for my “cuppa.” Hm-mm, big chairs, bookshelves, a “cuppa” and reading must be my cup of tea.

That idiom can too often define one’s lifestyle in a negative way. That happens when we try to be someone else’s cup of tea. You can spend a lifetime trying to be what others want you to be---- and it’s usually for their benefit. If you decide to change you’d better watch out.

It does seem to be a little easier as you reach a certain decade to stop misleading family, friends and colleagues. You can come out of the closet, in a way---fess up to “good enough” housekeeping, (books are dusted) “good enough” meals, (tea is available) “good enough” wardrobe (ah-h sweats are clean) and “close enough” number on the scale. (all right, so I didn’t weigh today). That is one of the advantages of aging. Coming clean is liberating. You can stop hiding behind the masks of perfection.

It’s not entirely true that I’ve reached a point where I don’t care what people think of me. Sometimes I feel a little left out in conversations. But I can weigh others’ expectations of me with what He thinks of me, to find balance. It’s His expectations that are important.

For am I now seeking the favor of men, or of God? Or am I striving to please men? If I were still trying to please men, I would not be a bond-servant of Christ. (Galatians 1:10)

Dancing term…………….“Light on your feet”

5/3/10 How does one keep “light on her feet” when dancing with a partner? Balance is important---so keep your focus. Posture too---helps you move as a unit of one with your partner. Listening is key. Are you listening to the same music? Being aware of the gentle nudge from your partner. Response is also very important so that you don’t have to be “jerked” into compliance. Don’t even try to anticipate your partner’s lead----just go with His flow. Whatever you do, don’t lead!
My God Calling “journal jottings” made during my surgery month last fall as I pondered Psalm 34:1-5 (KJV):

• First step in my dance with the Lord is Praise---Boasting in Him and magnifying Him is so much easier in the “closed position”—facing him, looking into His face, which opens the line of communication so that you are prepared to follow before fear even sets in. Burdens are lifted as I look to Him---

The result is lightness of heart, which I think translates to our feet so that we then have a “dance” (our Christian walk) to show the world. That's our final step---showing the world the beauty of a dance/life with Him.

1I will bless the LORD at all times: his praise shall continually be in my mouth.
2My soul shall make her boast in the LORD: the humble shall hear thereof, and be glad.
3O magnify the LORD with me, and let us exalt his name together.
4I sought the LORD, and he heard me, and delivered me from all my fears.
5They looked unto him, and were lightened: and their faces were not ashamed. (Psalm 34:1-5)

Graceful and beautiful dancing (being light on your feet) can be achieved through a gentle but definite lead, coupled with a sensitive and responsive follow. Allow the world to see your “dance” and thus glorify Him.

Heartwarming Dance

4/29/10 Dance! Dance! Dance! It seems to jump out at me from everywhere lately. God continues to give me “dance” tidbits and trivia from all over the place. How heartwarming is that!
In February, “Day of Dance” celebrated this art form because it’s good for the heart. Today, International Dance Day is celebrated and has been every April 29 since 1982. For me it was a great analogy between the physical and the spiritual art form of dance. Dance is good for my physical heart and dancing with Him as my partner is good for my spiritual heart. "Attentiveness to Him and responsiveness to others" (C. Huffman) are heart healthy signs.
Celebrate “life” with me through the art form of dance. Allow your teacher to be the One who came that you might have life in abunDANCE!

I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly. (John 10:10)

To really celebrate, each believer needs to extend the joy of that abunDANCE to others---thus making his own heart bigger and spiritually healthier while warming the heart of another.

So, as those who have been chosen of God, holy and beloved, put on a heart of compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience; ( Colossians 3:12)

Live the life you teach. Dance the dance you’ve chosen.

No better way to stretch/enlarge your heart than to allow God’s teaching to touch the soul of another---a heartwarming dance.

Sleep Button

4/27/10 Up early yesterday----"3 something" is even early for me. Bleary eyed. I felt like I was looking through wavy water as I typed. Under the “”apple” on my computer is a sleep button. When I scroll down and click on it, the screen "black out" is instantaneous. It’s there as a power saver---putting the computer into hibernation mode.

I want such a button in my life. I want to be just "one click" away from the comfort of sleep. No tossing. No turning. No anxious thoughts whirring in my head. No need to “pop” a Benadryl, which the docs say isn’t good for dementia avoidance. No struggling to recall verses that seem to rev up instead of calming. Sometimes I just want to sleep.

Dozed some but eventually got up a little after 4 and carried my fatigue with me to work. I just put one foot in front of the other. Not the way I like to spend my day but I did make it through. I’m not the only one, at this age who can struggle with insomnia. Certainly late night/early morning sleep disturbances are not unique to me either. Sleep deprivations from work stress compounded by an “early” school opening is often the topic of our “lunch bunch” conversation.

Prayed for strength as I left work to go read to a friend and to give her hubby a little break. Then boom! I rear-ended an SUV at Poplar and Kirby Parkway. I assumed all cars were moving but obviously the one in front of me was not. Or maybe she did and then stopped. I don’t know. I just know it was my fault and I was grateful the other driver wasn’t hurt. Some days are like that even in Australia as Alexander said during his “terrible, horrible, no good very bad day!"

Finally arriving at home, thanks to a friend passing by and calling police, a tow truck arriving for my car, a somewhat depleted bank account, and a nice Germantown policeman giving me a ride, I really desired that hibernation mode. I wanted to be able to “black out” the wreck, the guilt, and the questions of “what were the life lessons in this” that were whirring in my head.
But God……in reading last night’s God’s Calling, here’s what jumped off the page.

“Have no fear….rest before Me until you are joyful and strong again…. Deal in the same way with all tired feelings. I was weary too, when on earth, and I separated Myself … and sat and rested…. When Paul said, "I can do all things through Christ which strengthens me," he did not mean that he was to do all things and then rely on Me to find strength. He meant that for all I told him to do he could rely on My supplying the strength. My Work in the world has been hindered by work, work, work. Many a tireless nervous body has driven a spirit. The spirit should be the master always, and just simply and naturally use the body as need should arise. Rest in Me.”

Maybe He’s giving me permission to click the sleep button and take time-out for a little hibernation----to rest in Him and be thankful.

Dance Plans

4/26/10 If I’ve learned anything these last few months, it’s that my “dance” is His plan, not mine. Jesus Calling, these last few days, has certainly reminded me of that. The dance is empowered by Him. I’m just to respond to His lead rather that trying to make life’s dance fit my plans. My compulsive planning can cause missteps along the way. When my mind spins with multitudinous thoughts I cannot follow His lead---I can’t hear His still small voice. Is it fear that manifests itself in my excessive planning? Isn’t unbelief the root of all fear?

Yesterday’s Jesus Calling entry (4/25) reminded me to make the Lord my focal point as I moved (danced) through each day. Maybe others need reminding too. The only way for a spinning ballerina to keep her balance is to keep returning her eyes to her immovable focal point.

Certainly our world/circumstances continue to whirl around us and we, too, need to focus on the One who is the constant in our lives. That way our steps are steady and sure---because we are focused on Him and His plan for us instead of our own plans.
As I typed this I could hear my Mama Davenport’s squeaky little voice humming this old but still familiar hymn:

Turn your eyes upon Jesus,
 Look full in His wonderful face,
 And the things of earth will grow strangely dim,
 In the light of His glory and grace

So with His plan to think about, think on this verse as you “dance” through your day. Please note parenthetical paraphrases are just my THOTS on this verse.

Let us (that’s you, Dotsy) also lay aside every encumbrance (my role of trying to plan and lead the dance) and the sin (my compulsive, excessive planning) which so easily entangles us, and let us run (dance) with endurance (His strength) the race (His dance plan) that is set before us, (Dotsy)
2fixing our (my) eyes on Jesus, (my partner who leads me in the dance) the author and perfecter of faith, (faith = belief) (Hebrews 1b-2a)

Routine for a “New Dance”

4/22/10     I am a Daddy's Girl! 

During"back in the day" college years my phone rang every Wednesday, as Daddy could call long distance "free" from Clarksville Livestock Company,

For years, my daddy has been “routine” personified. He ate grapefruit for breakfast everyday. He walked every day. Had Wednesday lunch at Mama Davenport’s in Clarksville, TN every week. You could plan your days by him---and really down to the hour and sometimes even the minute. We often joked about him being the “man to set your clock by.”

• 6:14 am wake-up
• 7:15 am “library time.”
• 8am out the door.
• 10:15 post office run.
• 3:15pm front step Hopkinsville Livestock Company (originally Altsheler and Payne) with an ice-cold 6½ oz. bottled coke---the ones in the bottle with the light green tint and embossed at the bottom with the name of the local bottler. He chose that time to watch his granddaughters, Polly and Allyson, come by on the school bus.
• 9 pm his orange that he ate every night in front of the TV---a dish towel over his lap to catch the drips.
• Bedtime 10:14.

As he aged, the routine changed somewhat and his coke became a 12 0z. can b/c the little grocery in Trenton, KY where he got his “bottle” supply finally ran out. He eventually changed to the canned “diet Coke” variety. His orange became a ½ an orange. Lunch at Roundies remained a daily routine and any of the waitresses could get his order w/o writing it down b/c it rarely varied---salmon patties on Monday, always beets on his Tuesday plate, chicken and dumplings for Thursday and ending his week with his Friday fish. They always brought his jello with fruit about 2/3 through his meal. A nod from him was all it took. Sat. lunch at the VFW was a given b/c for his “big” dollar in the jar donation, he was fed---a lunch this World War II “purple heart recipient” deserves.

That routine gave him security---it’s what he hung his hat on. Plus, when Mother was living, she supported his routine and kept it running smoothly for him. Now he hangs his hat and coats and clothes all over everywhere---although there seems to be a system to that too, I just don’t always understand it.
In the last 6 mos. Daddy really began to fail---maybe even the past year but I was not with him as much b/c of my treatment/surgeries in Texas. He still walked at the mall, though slower and not as far, and in the past month, not at all. More and more his confidence is deteriorating. His memory is fleeting and too much of the time he won’t even try but just say, “I can’t remember anything.” I hear him talking to himself trying to remind himself of what is next and even his speech falters some. What I am seeing is that Daddy is desperately trying to hold on. Trying to hold on to life as he once new it. I want to hold on for him---to hold on to the healthy Daddy, still walking his mile. Daddy, working at age 88. Daddy, only taking 1 aspirin a day Daddy and reading The Upper Room daily.

Daddy---the way I’ve always known him.

Daddy, my first dance partner---the one who danced with me standing on the top of his feet as a child----danced with me at my wedding and even at my 45th high school class reunion. There won’t be any more of those dances with my earthly father. That makes me very sad!

How do I handle this new struggle in unfamiliar territory?
I, who just 2 nights ago encouraged others to “dance,” am going to have to apply those same principles to new steps needed for this unfamiliar dance---a dance to a new tune with my heavenly Father.

Discovering that I need new revelation from God’s word or maybe it’s new application of truth I already know---THOTS---Trusting Him On This Subject as I begin to seek

Accepting that aging of a parent and its physical difficulties are for the most part out of my control and accepting (trying) my emotional pain

Noticing God’s hand in the provision of 2 brothers who are the best and the one who is closest in distance never waivers in attentiveness to Daddy’s needs

Celebrating last night’s phone call---Daddy sounded good and even told me he got some chili at Roundies for lunch b/c it was the daily special---but he said “it wasn’t that special” and he wouldn’t order it again.

Extending hope to others in this type struggle as I learn from it---but hoping others will extend to me their stories of “long distance” care for parents and how it’s worked for them

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort,who comforts us in all our affliction so that we will be able to comfort those who are in any affliction with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. 2 Corinthians 1:3-4