Walking with God

The Flip Side of Gloom

The people that walked in darkness have seen a great light: they that dwell in the land of the shadow of death, upon them hath the light shined. Isaiah 9:2

Many writers and bloggers choose a word for the New Year. I remember last year I was entertaining this idea and before I could even ask God what word He would whisper to my spirit from His, the word came:

GLOOM

This can’t be right, I thought. Most people get hope filled inspirational words others could latch onto happily like HOPE, JOY, PERSEVERENCE, FAITH, LOVE. But I get Gloom, and it was persistent. Recent circumstances have brought forth the meaning in someone I care about deeply. Something that was supposed to be a relatively low risk surgical procedure has turned into a nasty infection and she is fighting it with everything she has. It’s been almost two months now. We are fighting it together with the Lord and all His angels we can muster. We’ve both had our turn at caretaking both sets of parents, and now it’s her turn to be taken care of. And that’s tough for someone with a caretaking spirit. And we ask why. My best friend is a person who rises each day and sincerely wants to leave someone or something in her world better.

Life can turn on a dime. We all know this. What started out as a procedure that is done each and every day, (with minimal risk, we were told) something both our brothers had done, and my mom had done twice. How could this seemingly innocuous procedure leave someone young(ish) and active, first in the ER, then in ICU? This is my person, my sister in Christ, my best friend of almost 40 years, someone who fixes everything broken. How could this happen?

Three surgeries in 3 weeks, and the days stretched on. An agonizing night in the hospital praying and holding her hand when she awoke battling fear and great pain. You quickly get used to a different life. It’s very hard to watch someone you love suffer, and harder still for them, cast suddenly into a world of IVs, endless rounds of pain meds, not to mention the horrendous pain itself. If all went well, she was supposed to be home 2 weeks ago, doing therapy and walking around.

I re-learned that a whole host of people have been cast unwillingly into this alternative universe. I learned the agony of waiting in the waiting room for any news at all. Of course, I knew that others had this life and I was empathetic, but I wasn’t part of it. Until you are the one standing at the elevator in exhaustion, forgetting what button to push, it is just a sad nod at someone else’s life.

We have now moved from the hospital life to a convalescent life. An alternative universe of still another set of challenges. The first room she shared an adjoining bathroom with a man who wasn’t all there, both physically and mentally. She awoke to him walking through the room stark naked and he then proceeded peeing all over the bathroom floor. (And she fighting a major infection) Then there was the one who yelled for help all night across the hall. It was starting to feel like “One Flew Over the Cuckcoo’s Nest.” We enlisted the help of a wonderful PT who came to the rescue and got her moved to the next wing. (Thanks be to God). It has been better over there. Thankfully, the staff for the most part is good and geared toward getting people out of there if they possibly can.

Thanksgiving came and went in the hospital, and Christmas will come and go in Rehab. Our Holidays have been spent clinging to the Rock (Psalm 18:2) and calling on the name of Jehovah Rapha, our healer. I drove through some of the roughest streets in Stockton at night during Thanksgiving. An adorable porch display on Acacia Street with lights and inflatable turkeys made me cry for some reason but I was grateful for it. Something about the hope in that silly little display touched my heart. In my other life, I would never have driven any of those streets at night, (there was a gang shooting that took place close by that same week), But God delivered me from all fear and brought me safely home each time.

And Satan, ever vigilant to swoop on those who belong to the Lord, one morning got the best of me. My thoughts were blackest of black and his voice taunted me. “Does the Lord always heal?” He then set about reminding me of all those who I had prayed for in the past who had left this earth for eternity anyway.

It’s easy to have faith when you think you know the outcome, but how about when the path ahead is obscured? That takes real faith. It’s the “Help my unbelief” kind of faith.

When my mind was grasping for sanity, there in the dark I cried to the Lord as the Psalmist did:

In my trouble I cried to the Lord, and He answered me. Deliver my soul, O Lord, from lying lips, from a deceitful tongue. Psalm 120:1,2

In this case the lying lips were straight from hell, and I don’t belong there. I told him that too. I claimed the blood of Jesus over all of it. And then like a crack of warm oil flowing into my heart God reminded me of how I had been healed so many years ago. “Remember that day, Lori?” Oh yes, Lord I do. Please forgive me for listening to that voice even for a minute. Then I got up and prayed face down upon the chair and felt all the darkness dissipate. The cats were worried.

And the day got better. On the way to the Rehab a rainbow revealed itself as God’s eternal promise. This after weeks of no sun in sight. And later, in the Doctors office, Elaine got both drain tubes taken out. (We prayed for at least one). Later I stopped by the library having dumped the 3 books I couldn’t seem to focus on, there on the new shelf was the new one by Jan Karon. Another God sign, (I’ll take it).

In light of all these things, we hold out Hope because we know the One who can vanquish the darkness of this world. She has been asking everyone in the hospital if they know Jesus. When you have been through the valley of shadows struggling for breath, you realize again what’s truly important.

In the meantime, while we are here in the “Waiting Room” of this world before eternity, here is my Christmas list for those grasping for the Light in a world that has gone very dark.

No more waiting rooms, no more waiting for test results, no more shattered hearts. No more grief that sucks the life out of you. I look for the time of turning swords into plow shears, and hearts softening and turning to Jesus who holds the keys of death and hades, but also holds out the perfect gift which is himself, so we never have to worry about the latter.

You’ve got this because He’s got you. We know firsthand the flipside of Gloom and His name is Jesus.

Earth, strike up your music, birds that sing and bells that ring; Heaven hath answering music for all Angels soon to sing: Earth, put on your whitest Bridal robe of spotless snow: For Christmas bringeth Jesus, brought for us so low. Christina Rossetti

Hindsight is pretty much useless (or be a bringer of cake)

“But in your hearts revere Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect.” 1 Peter 3:15

Yesterday I went up to the front desk of the library and requested my “link” book. For most of us book lovers, comforting and familiar though they may be, our local library shelves frequently come up lacking. The book I’ve been waiting for came in. When I approached the lady librarian and said I had a link, she quipped, “A link to the future?” “The past?” She was trying to be clever I guess, and I stammered a bit and said lamely, “I try my best to live in the present, one day at a time.” As I left, I thought of the above Bible verse. Why? Another opportunity and I missed it. I could’ve said so many things. Here are a few I thought of (after the fact.)

I do have a link to the future, His name is Jesus, do you know Him?

Jesus is the same yesterday, today and forever, so yes, I do have a link to the future!

And how about this one, “I am Alpha and Omega, the first and the last, the beginning and the end. Revelation 22:13

Yup, that just about sums up my missed opportunity to tell someone the Good News. I seem to be so good at thinking of things after the fact. Next time, I’ll be ready. Hindsight is pretty much useless unless you apply the lesson. I doubt I’ll get another opportunity like that one. On the heels of moments like these little seeds of doubt creep in. Somewhere in the core of my being was I afraid of what she might think? Questions remain, even as I swat the bothersome thoughts away. A lesson to learn. The Holy Spirit’s pang of disappointment lingers in my spirit. A seed remains unplanted.

Then, last Friday a friend and I went to put down her cat. I volunteered to go with her. The cat was cared for and loved for by all 4 of us, really. Both she and her brother were constant fixtures when we were in the Motorhome for 8 years. She hung out under Vernon Weigum’s car, sunning herself, and we started calling her Weigumina. She also went by Miss Kitty, Sissy, Wiggy respectfully. When I watched her the other day, I noticed her back legs shaking and weak and she had stopped eating. She went downhill fast from there. We think maybe a stroke. Wiggy held a special place in my heart because every morning she would trot ahead of me to the swing in the dark and we would watch for the dawn. I would drink coffee, and she would lick frosting off whatever I was eating. Usually a cookie. She also had an uncanny ability to gauge the direction of your car tire and not budge from where she was laying. If she had thumbs, she could have driven a car.

It was so very sad of course but we knew without a doubt that it was time. During the 1 1/2 hours we had to wait, it was agony for her and us too. We smothered her with love and kisses up until the time she fell into a merciful sleep. I was drained when I got home so Elaine offered to go to the store. When she came back, she presented me with a small cake with frosting and sprinkles in honor of Wiggy. The comic relief was when I turned back around after getting a plate, Atticus had licked an entire dollop of icing from the top.

I found that cake and wine went very well together. We will all miss you Sissy, so much.

The moral of the story is that cake makes things better. I hope you have someone who brings you cake with sprinkles on sad days. Or if you don’t, then be the bringer yourself. Or better yet, be both people. The second is to always be ready for the opportunity when it comes to bring hope in the form of words. That is, The Word Himself, Jesus.

If you have men who will exclude any of God’s creatures from the shelter of compassion and pity, you will have men who will deal likewise with their fellow men. St. Francis

I got nothing


There are those days when I want so badly to write but nothing comes. Today was one. I started a whole blog post but felt as if I were digging into a place I didn’t want to have to dig out of. Mentally. It’s a beautiful Indian summer day. Can we still use that term? I used my fluffy blanket last night which makes me happy going to bed. Even if I have to throw them off during the night in a fit of clammy huffiness. Then I awoke with a feeling of the ground shifting (not an earthquake). It’s not quite fear, just uneasiness. I fished my phone out from under my pillow, pulled up You Tube, and found an Abide called, “Peaceful Night with God (Stories for Sleep) within about 15 minutes I was fast asleep. They don’t work for everyone, my friend tried it and she kept waiting for a story with a beginning, middle and end. They don’t do that, rather they meander around like some Jazz tunes do.

Anyway, I have felt uneasy the last few days, and I remember this morning that the second was the day my mom went to Heaven. The second was Yom Kippur, the holiest day in the Jewish calendar; the Day of Atonement. Tradition holds that one’s fate for the coming year is sealed on Yom Kippur, which determines if their name is written in the Book of Life. That’s the really big most important book. This is how you can know you are there: https://bibletruths.org/is-your-name-written-in-the-lambs-book-of-life/

Yom Kippur commemorates the day when Moses came down from Mount Sinai with the 10 Commandments which God Himself wrote on with a finger of lightning. Of course, after praying and fasting, he came down and found that Israel had fashioned their own god (small g). They had got tired of waiting. Don’t be too judgmental, I can remember many times in my life when I got tired of waiting for answered prayer and I’m sure you can too. All I have to do is try to put my phone away for two hours and I realized just how close I come to worshiping something man-made.

Anyway, it’s a beautiful day. I’m going over to feed my aunt’s neighbors’ cats, then go to church and after that attend our local Fall Festival downtown. I asked God this morning in prayer if He would shift the insides to sunny instead of cloudy gloom and it seems like He’s done it. (Thank you God) The best thing we can do on any given day is to be thankful. Being thankful is the best way to Worship God. And don’t forget to thank God for your washer and dryer. Having to go to a Laundromat for 8 years is extremely humbling. Just now, a train blew through, and I thank God for that. I always pray that the conductor won’t have to worry about someone passed out on the tracks. (It’s happened many times) I remember how I missed trains in Arizona.

Well, so long for now. And have a blessed day.

Whom Shall I Send?


Until today I hadn’t been able to turn the calendar off of the 10th. It has felt wrong. I listened to a powerful sermon (click the link) on my walk the other day and it echoed what I was feeling. Our culture has reached a point of no return, and I wonder how we can come back from this. There was a visible line stepped over when a large part of our culture celebrated the death of a good man. It was stepped over when a man was brutally murdered in front of thousands for simply trying to bring our youth together despite their differences. We saw pure evil, pure hatred unmasked before our eyes, and we can no longer afford to look away. As a Church, what are we going to do? Can we remain silent? Complacent as we have been for so long?

Charlie Kirk’s life purpose and message were simple. To put God first in everything we do and follow the path layed out for us in Scripture. He put himself out there, as Jesus commanded us all to do in the Great Commission. And evil doesn’t like the truth, it never has. All the enemy knows how to deal with the truth is to silence it however it can.

Or twist it. As Satan did in the Garden long ago.

The evil we saw on full display cannot be contained in that one shooter. He was just carrying out Satan’s bidding, though he may not even have known it. And God’s mercy could still reach him; I pray it does. Eternity is long. And I know Charlie would have been thrilled for him to find Jesus.

Charlie wanted more than anything for young conservatives to have a voice, but he also encouraged those who disagreed most vehemently to come to the front of the line. Charlie had a passion for reaching our youth, many of whom are floundering, with no moral compass. He believed open dialogue was a key factor in bringing people, all people together. This is what he said so often:

"When people stop talking, that's when you get violence. That's when civil war happens."

Dr. Martin Luther King and Charlie Kirk had one thing in common. One wanted the laws of our land to reflect equality for all the races in keeping with our own constitution. Another wanted kids of all opinions to have an equal voice on college campuses and in life. Also, in keeping with our constitution.

Even so, I believe this horrible event has sparked a revival in our country. Just today, I heard a mom say that she is attending church for the first time. She said her kids have been asking, and today she made the choice to go, even though she was unsure what to expect. Just today I heard another one. And yesterday, at the memorial 60,000 heard the Gospel, I’m sure many of them for the first time. One after another, our government leaders got up and delivered messages that sounded more like sermons that speeches.

Our country began to lose its way when we began to believe that our rights came from the Government instead of God. When a country loses its moral compass, it begins to die from the inside out. But the way back to life can start from the inside of all of us individually through the Holy Spirit and the Church once again taking a stand on moral issues.

Charlie’s message on a college campus wouldn’t even have made a stir in the 1960s, I would even go so far as to say the 1970s. It simply wouldn’t have been controversial. The values most of us grew up with then were still intact by and large. I have said this before, when I was in High School (in California no less) in the 70’s, we sang hymns in school. Nobody thought a thing about it. We loved our Rock and Roll, Frampton, Boston and Fleetwood Mac, but we also knew there was respect for faith and room for freedom of expression.

In our postmodern world, what once was taken for granted as a way of life by most people, is now considered radical by many, especially by our youth.

So where do we go from here? We each pick up our crosses. We pray. We dig deep into the word which is our Spiritual life blood. We keep going. Most importantly we don’t back down from speaking the truth, and more importantly living it. Charlie listened to God’s call and obeyed. I don’t know about you, but not many of us would put up a table in a hostile environment and invite dialogue if we knew we would face certain harassment, death threats, and finally death itself. But each of us can walk the walk Jesus has prepared for us with His help.

Then I heard the voice of the Lord, saying, “Whom shall I send, and who will go for Us?” Then I said, “Here am I. Send me!” Isaiah 6:8

Breath of Heaven

Another of God’s little miracles

Morning Visitors

I welcome the cool breezes

thinking you do too….


I remember Arizona, walking outside on the first day after a long relentless summer and being surprised by relief. No one knows that except someone that has been through as least one year in the desert. We’ve had a short heat wave here but nothing like those days. To us it’s nothing, for we have the hope of the delta breezes and relief at night. You wouldn’t think I would miss it, and I don’t miss that parts of it. The magic of the desert did a number on my heart and soul that stays with me. It was so easy to see God in the sky, in the storms, in the backdrop of the Superstition Mountains as I came home after a long 12-hour shift.

I got to visit a really unique property yesterday, acres of wide-open spaces and views galore. I miss seeing the sky. I remember my Dad commenting on how much sky you can see in the desert when he came to visit. I didn’t think too much about it until we moved back to tree land. “Dirty nasty trees” is what Elaine calls them. (Using her best Gollum voice) Hence the sap that has settled on my car due to parking downtown last night. Oh well, everywhere has its drawbacks. I did enjoy seeing the bees on our crepe myrtle this morning. Something about watching them go from bloom to bloom reinforces the fact that all is not lost. There are still bees left.

Sometimes I get so sick of all the endless garbage strewn across the interweb. So much of it is brain-rot but then you run across something truly refreshing. Here it is….https://annekennedy.substack.com/p/jen-hatmaker-and-jesus

I remember when all the women (and some men) bloggers were jumping on Jen Hatmaker’s bandwagon. I never understood it, and I was skeptical. I won’t say anything about it since Anne says it so much better than I could but give it a read. And enjoy your Sunday. Go to church, and if you don’t have one find one. And don’t try to find a perfect one so don’t try. I have found that I ruin every perfect church I find. The most important thing is that you hear about God there and that they preach out of His book.

In the meantime, I will try to find another chair, Atticus claimed mine when I got up.

Road Trip

A bus seen in San Diego

It’s gone…..and it was hard, and it was easy. Easy because it was time, hard because I know those times won’t be coming again. There are the memories though, lots of them. Those will be there forever, God willing, hidden and vibrant in the core of my being for a long time to come. I don’t have to work too hard to hear those sounds. Feel the excitement of getting ready, packing, shopping. I don’t know about you, but road trips usually mean getting treats you don’t usually allow yourself. For me, it’s Cherry Poptarts, only Cherry, no others will do. When I was a kid, it was Svenhardts packaged rolls and pancakes over the Coleman stove. Man, those were good. As long as I live, I will hear the noises of Lower Pines Campground waking up in Yosemite. The pounding of tent pegs echoing off those sheer granite cliffs. Stellars jays squawking from branch to branch. The promise of coffee which tasted of liquid gold as the finger of light crept over Sierra Point, warming the edge of the meadow.

Road trips are a special kind of magic because you never know what you might see on the road. We’ve rounded a bend on the Oregon coast to see a car overturned with a man standing outside of it scratching his head. A couch in the middle of the road. An elk the size of a small state just about to cross the road. A windshield wiper blowing off with a storm approaching. And you haven’t lived until you’ve seen a thunderstorm rolling across the desert. And all the anticipation of the arrival of your destination in the forefront of your mind.

Many years after the tent camping days of my childhood, the 2004 Fleetwood Flair was purchased. It was a brand-new era. It was more glamping than camping and it was wonderful. All the joy and freedom of camping out with a soft bed and as many shoes and boots as I wanted. Excuse me for a few minutes while I let my mind wander. How can you explain the freedom of hitting the road and finally reaching your destination? Waiting with bated breath as you find out where the camp host has parked you. And then, the setup, which was minimal in the Motorhome, that was the best part. As the camp chairs are finally dragged to the right spot you feel yourself exhale, knowing you’ll be here for a while. Cut off from the cares of jobs, responsibilities, and life. Freedom.

I guess you could say this life is one long road trip, full of good and bad, trial and error, mishaps, mistakes and then finally the times when you coast. Everything going right. You savor those times, and you enjoy the scenery. Maybe you even think about your destination. Not the immediate one, the final one. I think as we get older, we do more thinking along those lines, or maybe we try not to think about it at all. It’s there in the question that frames itself in conversations with others or thoughts before we drift off to sleep. But it’s there just the same.

Jesus had lots to say about our final destinations. Both of them. If you don’t believe in a final destination, you probably don’t think too much about it. As Christian believers, our faith, our life, is centered on the hope that only Jesus has the ticket for our final destination. But even more than a vain hope, it’s a knowledge based on His life, death and resurrection. He’s the One who paid our admission. The only One who can. So, know this:

Life is Good. But life with Jesus the life is everlasting. The most important Road Trip you will ever take.

“The Bus”

We are all in recovery…..

“You can kiss your family and friends goodbye and put miles between you, but at the same time you carry them with you in your heart, your mind, your stomach, because you do not just live in a world, but a world lives in you.” Frederick Buechner

Yes indeed, even if they are gone from this world. Recovery seems to be a big issue now, there are reams of writings and data, and the library is filled with books on how to stop one bad habit and replace it with something healthier. I wonder, did anyone even say the word a century ago? I think mostly they were too tired at the end of the day to even wonder about the word, let alone the actual thing itself. I think of my grandma and grandpa coming to California, starting over after leaving their farm, animals (some of whom they thought of as friends), not to mention their little girl’s grave. If anyone needed recovery, certainly they did. But they just buckled down, worked hard, learned English as their second language, and carried on. I have grown up listening to the stories.

And I am proud to carry some of their DNA. I wonder, how much of those experiences have carried down through me, buried in my own DNA. I like to think there is a strength I have borrowed from them. There are also other things floating around, the not so good things. On my paternal Grandparents side there was alcoholism. My Grandpa recovered, my grandmother did not. I carry some of that DNA as well. I have battled my own love of alcohol with several come to Jesus moments over the years. Counselors say that we need to know our weaknesses, keep a journal. Write down when you want to drink, get angry, eat compulsively. I know one thing, addictions can kill body, mind and soul. They want to obliterate the best that God wants you to be. Paul says this:

O wretched man that I am! Who shall deliver me from the body of this death? I thank God through Jesus Christ our Lord. So then with the mind I myself serve the law of God; but with the flesh the law of sin.” Romans 7:24,25 KJB

So, we are terminally ill without Jesus. You can read all the self-help books you want; and sometimes they do have their place but ultimately, they turn your mind inward and get you to focus more on yourself. What we need is something bigger than ourselves. I concede with the Apostle Paul that unless I have Jesus, who is the only one who truly never gave into temptation, I have limited success in this life and none in the next.

I am one of those people to whom a party is not good news. I immediately stress out in mixed groups. If there was alcohol served, I was slightly relieved. Then I made sure to have a drink before I left for good measure. Now, thanks be to Jesus, I still get anxious, but I pray instead.

As I do most times, before I got to sleep last night, I thanked God for the roof over my head and thought of those nearly under the freeway sleeping in the dirt in the midst of their own garbage. It’s epidemic here in California. It’s so easy to play the us versus them game. I am guilty of that. I wonder why able-bodied young men choose the streets and addiction rather than just getting a job. “But God,” I prayed, “Help me to not see them as just the sum of their parts. Not just people who steal and throw garbage everywhere, but people that have gone wrong.

Just like I’ve gone wrong so many times in my life. Just like we’ve all gone wrong. It would be so tragic is there was no remedy. But there is:

Hand Jesus your life. You will never regret it. Trade the band aid for the Cure. It’s not easy, but its effects have immediate and eternal ramifications. Message me if you want to know how. Believe me, I’ve been there.

“But thank God! He gives us victory over sin and death through our Lord Jesus Christ.” 1 Corinthians 15:57 NLT

Sometimes…..(and a toast)

Recently my very best friend in the world had a milestone Birthday. She turned 70. I got to truly surprise her with some very special company. We went to dinner, and I had plans to make a toast, but with all the ordering and talking and catching up, I didn’t. Shame on me.

So here is the toast I would have said. (With glasses raised) To Elaine:

“We are here to celebrate someone who has impacted each of our lives in different ways for a long time and not without some risk and sacrifice to herself. The Bible calls that Agape Love (with capital letters) She loved us all at pivotal points in our lives and when we needed it the most, she threw open the door of her home and her heart. There is simply no better friend. I admire her because she is a person who gives without reservation or hesitation. She prays for the duck and chicks at Tractor Supply, that they will have good lives and not end up in the wrong hands. She is a repairer and fixer. I always tell her that there is nothing she can’t fix. That is mostly true. She lives her faith openly and simply and without reservation. She just helps when help is needed like Jesus told us to do. I always tell her that she would’ve been the only character that would have helped the Little Red Hen with everything and then only taken the bread after everyone was served. I can’t imagine this world without her in it, and I know God feels the same way.” Cheers!

Here is the next thing I was thinking today. My Mom passed in 2021 and sometimes I hear her voice saying different things. Today it was “Who have you told about Jesus today?” My answer was no one. But writing this will change that because maybe this will find its way to someone that needs to hear it. I need to hear it. Everything changes but God (and Jesus) stay the same. That is a huge comfort to me. My words have been few lately, but I am not discouraged because Jesus has been with me for so long and brought me through so much that I know He is still there. And He can be there for you too. And His love is not conditional. I tend to think that if I don’t feel warm fuzzies or God’s presence in a certain way that I must have done something wrong. That is not the case. God doesn’t withdraw His love just like a parent doesn’t withdraw their love from their child. At any time of the day, I can talk to Him, and I know He hears me.

Many people select a word for the New Year. Usually these are wonderful words like “Trust” “Hope” “Belief” “Courage.” The only word that came to me was GLOOM. And it came so quick it almost made me laugh. Thats the truth. Maybe you have a small mushroom cloud over your head today and it’s just overwhelming. It won’t last, I promise. Joy will leak through. God has promised this, if you don’t give up. This is something that has been proven time and again in my 65 years.

This is a version of this verse I really like from the Amplified Bible:

For His anger is but for a moment, His favor is for a lifetime. Weeping may endure for a night, but a shout of joy comes in the morning. Psalm 30:5