Walking with God

Be Grateful

In Prayer this morning I was reminded again that I have a heritage in the church that I am so grateful for. As far as I look back, I have memories of being with God’s people. Were they perfect? Not by a long shot, but in those hallowed whispered halls of quiet, I learned of God. I heard the stories of David, Samuel, Noah, so much so that they were not strangers to me. WOW, I grew up and realized that not everyone has that. I am SO grateful for every church that I attended, no matter the denomination, folks. Denominations, I believe, only seek to divide us, but we can glean what we can from them anyway if we are open to what God would teach us.

I was thinking what a wonderful thing that heritage is to pass on to the next generation. It only takes one generation to forget God entirely. I guess my point is, be grateful that you have any memories of church, however restrictive you think it was, you heard the Word spoke, and that will never move through your soul without lodging itself somewhere. That somewhere will come out when you least expect it in the words of an old hymn you thought you forgot about. Thank God that someone took you there. Maybe it was VBS where all you remember is gluing colored macaroni together to make a picture of Jesus. Thank God for it.

I remember, oh how I remember now, and I didn’t think much of it then. The rustling of choir robes right before the first note. The procession of the Cross and the Acolytes down the aisle in my short stint in the Episcopal church. Christmas programs and the brown paper sack filled with treats, and nervously trying to remember my verse when my turn came. The night my mom didn’t give in when I wanted to wear my ratty jeans to church. The large line waiting to see the very charismatic Pastor John at my aunts church. My Baptism and the way the white robe billowed around me, and proclaiming my faith at 13 barely knowing what that entailed. God chased me my whole life and now at (almost 66) I have entered an even deeper knowing of Him because a year or so ago, I realized that playing around with the world was not what I should do.

I am SO thankful today. God has been made real to me so many times in my life. Two very pronounced ways, once when I was healed of Anorexia, and once on a quiet foggy morning in an empty house near Christmas where I had an encounter with the Holy Spirit that I don’t talk about much and I will never forget. And now He has drawn near to me again, fulfilling His promise in James that says:

Draw near to God and He will draw near to you. Cleanse your hands, you sinners; and purify your hearts, you double minded. James 4:8

And think about this, His Holy Spirit takes up residence inside us when we invite Him in. No matter how we have strayed or lost time, God is faithful. He won’t remind you of it, He will only welcome you back with open arms and redeem the years. That’s the kind of God we serve. I am so grateful for those Pastors and Teachers who speak the Word faithfully. Getting involved again with a Bible Study has been the best decision I have made. Listen to those wonderful sources that have the Living Water flowing through their veins. If you want to know what is going on in Israel today give these wonderful folks a listen here, and if you want sound Biblical teaching from a wonderful friend of mine go here

That is my offering today, folks. Have a blessed and peaceful weekend and remember, God is making all things new as we speak…..Where there is breath, there is hope.

Left at the Altar

(A writers lament)

In my mind I see an altar swept clean……I come before you Lord, waiting, wondering, why I find my altar stripped bare of words, bereft, swept clean. Maybe now I can write what is only for You. Maybe that’s what you wanted all along. I misplaced the words, but You can find them. Arrange them on Your altar of Holiness the way you want them, Lord. 

Fill the place in my soul that aches, tears that have dried up spring unbidden to my eyes as I acknowledge that place I remember. That calm before dawn where I sat with the cat in the swing. Nature calls but I hear traffic. Transform it Lord into something you can use. 

A Holy offering of love. I hear You say, “Those tears will do. “ Sometimes there is a Holy Gift exchange. I do believe that when we give something up here on earth, there is a rift in the clouds of Heaven. This is something I know. God has answered my prayer this year and I am eternally grateful. He has replaced my thirst for alcohol with thirst for the living water that never fails. 

I am the Samaritan woman at the well. Thank you, Jesus, that this well will never run dry. 

Oh God, you are my God; earnestly I seek you; my soul thirsts for you; my flesh faints for you, as in a dry and weary land where there is no water. Psalm 63: 1

This Good Day

What a gift to throw open the windows to the blessed coolness of a new day. We get to be here. I get to savor the first cup of brew as I fill the hummingbird feeders (one buzzed my head) What a blessing. What a tremendous gift. Each day we have reminders of just how precarious our position is. Recently, we were having lunch with a friend who had several text messages waiting as she touched back down in California from Spain. Message after message, “Call me,” they all said. It sounded urgent and it was.  

He said he was dying. He had been tired and his wife convinced him to go to the Doctor. Turns out he had esophageal cancer and stomach cancer and didn’t know it. Three weeks prior he had been hiking in the Sierras. Hospice was called and he died a few days later. 

I get to be here. This morning every breath feels like a benediction, a prayer of thanks, because it is. The Bible says that life is but a vapor……it certainly feels more like this now that I’m facing 67. I like how the King James Version puts it:  

Whereas Ye know not what shall be on the morrow. For what is your life? It is even a vapor that appeareth for a little time, and then vanisheth away.” James 4:14 

It is a privilege to be here with my feet up in this comfortable chair, turning the pages of a book that I am finding I don’t care for but keep reading anyway. It is marvelous to feel good and hear the cats racing and thumping around the house. At 2 years old they are still playing, breaking things and causing all kinds of mischief around the house. They chew everything and are more like having little house goats. 

I am feeding our old neighbor cat and 4 new chickens. They aren’t laying yet but starting to look like real chickens. They squawked greetings as they waited for their mealworm snack. Nearby, two geese parents watched me as their fuzzy little ones poked at the grass for bugs. 

I think of the song by Fernando Ortega, “This Good Day” 

“You’re the one who goes before me, in my heart I know that this good day, it is a gift from You. The world is turning in its place because you made it to, I lift my voice to sing a song of praise, on this good day…..” 

Yes, it certainly is and He certainly is……

Where is the Lamb?

As we walked by my bunny laden display, I reminded my cousin of the two that were her mom’s, my Aunt Esther’s. She nodded and then said, “Where are your mom’s lambs?” I told her that two were outside. I had also given some to friends of hers after she had passed. She said, “You just can’t hardly find a lamb anymore.” She’s right. I looked. 

You can find chicks and bunnies galore, and every other kind of creature reconfigured for Easter. 

Where are the lambs? In particular, where is the lamb? 

It was a refrain that haunted me the next day as I racked my brain for one particular lamb Mom had. It sat on the small table in her bathroom. It was small and looking up, head slightly tilted to the side, and wearing a beribboned straw hat. Impossibly cute. I seem to remember that it had a broken leg…..but I would have kept it even so. I would have glued it back on. I know it.

For these things came to pass, that the scripture might be fulfilled, A bone of him shall not be broken. John 19:36 

Unlike my lamb, Jesus leg wasn’t broken. 

I wish I could remember what happened to that little lamb. In the cloud of grief after a loved one dies; small things get swept away when big things take over. 

There is one lamb I did have to have, however. It was the big cement one (and I do mean cement) on her porch. It rested there many years peacefully welcoming friends and family from its place in the shade under the Japanese maple. There is another one I kept that now stands on my own porch step (this one actually does have a glued leg.)

All these broken leg lambs, and all this pondering of lambs has made me wonder. Why specifically is the lamb the perfect sacrifice, the metaphor for Jesus? Ever tried to lead a goat or a bull somewhere it doesn’t want to go? Not very easy! The lamb was chosen because it didn’t fight, it didn’t struggle as it was lead along. It was trusting. It had no clue that it was being led to slaughter. Jesus however, did. All His life, He lived in the shadow of the Cross.

Yet it didn’t daunt Him. He healed, He laughed, He taught, He loved, He prayed with unwavering faith……Up until it was time for He Himself to be Passover lamb for us all. John said:

The next day he saw Jesus coming toward him, and said, “Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world! John 1:29

Where is the Lamb? How does He fit into your life today? Have you accepted His plan for your life, the plan that was in play from the foundation of the world? There is a remedy for the chaos we see all around us today. This world is groaning friends, ripe for redemption. It’s already done. It was done when His voice rang out from the Cross.

IT…….IS……FINISHED.

There is a scene that many have talked about. When Jim Caviezel was taking a break from filming the violent and demanding scenes of the crucifixion during the Passion of the Christ, there was a lamb wandering around on set. During a spontaneous moment, he picked up that pure white lamb, and someone shot the photo. For the sake of copyright laws, I will link it here.

I pray that you find moments this Easter season where you reflect on all that Jesus has done for us once again.

He was oppressed and afflicted, yet he did not open his mouth; he was led like a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before its shearers is silent, so he did not open his mouth. Isaiah 53:7

And I was weeping greatly because no one worthy was found to open the scroll, nor to look-at it. And one of the elders says to me, “Do not be weeping. Behold— the Lion from the tribe of Judah, the Root of David, overcame so as to open the scroll and its seven seals”. And I saw in the midst of the throne and the four living-creatures, and in the midst of the elders, there was a Lamb as-if having been slain, standing, having seven horns, and seven eyes (which are the seven Spirits of God having been sent-forth into all the earth). And He came, and He has taken it out of the right hand of the One sitting on the throne. Revelation 4-7

And they are singing a new song, saying “You are worthy to take the scroll and to open its seals, because You were slain, and You bought for God with Your blood some from every tribe and tongue and people and nation,  and You made them a kingdom and priests to our God, and they will reign upon the earth”. And I saw, and I heard the voice of many angels around the throne, and of the living-creatures, and of the elders— and the number of them was myriads of myriads, and thousands of thousands—saying with a loud voice “Worthy is the Lamb having been slain to receive the power and riches and wisdom and strength and honor and glory and blessing.” Revelation 5:9-12

Amen, even so, come Lord Jesus.

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.