Thursday, September 30, 2010

Helping Others

Helping Others

Recently a friend and me went to help an old friend we’d not seen in quite a while. We took what she said on face value. I followed my heart and the friend who went with me went to help as well.

I do not regret having done what I did. I do not regret having reached out a hand to help someone. Many told me, “don’t do this” – but I did it anyway. Many said, “you are making a mistake” – I accept that to a degree.

I do regret not being told the truth, having facts misconstrued and not knowing “all” about the situation.

I do regret not knowing the mental state of the person we went to help. Fragile as a bird in one hand – or was that, too, a farce?

I’ve had to really pray about this situation that went from trying to do the right thing to becoming the bad girl. I prayed most all night.

If the original facts were true, I have no regrets in doing what we did – and I would do it again in a heartbeat.

I think that I was God led to do what I did. I still believe that. And, as one friend told me – you did what you thought God wanted you to do, so who are we to judge what His outcome for this will be? That statement hit me smack in the face.

We are supposed to be helpmates to others in life. One of the greatest feelings of worth is helping someone in need. I think of the story of the Good Samaritan. And, if things don’t turn out as planned, God’s will be done – and not ours.

I hold no ill feelings, no animosity, and no anger – in fact, all just the opposite for her. I wish her well in whatever life brings her and pray that God will protect her from harm and even from herself.

Wishing you the best, wherever you are.

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

A Simple Thank You

A Simple Thank You

How many times have people done something for you without you being asked and you forget to say “Thank You!”?

The older I get, the more I want to be aware of the kindnesses of others. This world seems to be “takers” and less “givers”. It seems that our younger generation expects us to give and give and rarely do you hear a voice of appreciation.

My grandmother used to say, “sweeten the pie and you will have more friends”. I used to think that meant actually putting more sugar in the pie. Later, I realized the pie was me- and the sweeter I am to folks or the kinder I am to folks the more I am appreciated.

I have also learned that you aren’t always rewarded for your goodness. You aren’t always thanked. I have also learned you may not be blessed by the person you helped - but somewhere down the line – you will be more than appreciated or blessed.

I think we, as people fall short on thanking others who help us. Take a little time, even make a phone call or send a note to someone who has helped you – don’t forget to say thank you.

I’ve often said, giving is like a pitcher of water – the person giving. You pour the water from the pitcher and the more you pour, the less water is in the pitcher. The pitcher has to be refilled at some point. It’s like a human; a person can only give so much without feeling empty or unappreciated at some point. A hug, a thank you – that’s all it takes to replenish the “pitcher”.

Try it today and see what happens – watch the glimmer in the eyes – the smile on the face – just a simple thank you – even for a minor something!

Tuesday, September 28, 2010



It amazes me how sights or sounds or “things” can remind you of someone or your past. I see a quilt, I think of my grandmother. I go to a rodeo, I think of an Uncle who clowned all the prison rodeos and was a PRCA Rodeo clown. I start canning jams and jellies, I think of aunts chatting in the kitchen and putting up the finest peach or fig preserves. I go fishing or fishing and I think of my maternal grandparents.

I see a frog and have to giggle – remembering a time when my dad and me went frog gigging.

Evidently we were on someone else’s property and didn’t realize it – at least I didn’t realize it. The lights in this old house came on, some man hollered “who’s out there?” and fired a shotgun in the air.

That was enough – we both scrambled through the wire fence. I got in trouble once back to the house. I’d ripped a brand new pair of Wrangler jeans – not in a place that could be repaired – but right across the buttocks – as Forest Gump would say!

The smells, the sights can bring warm memories or they can also bring the bad ones as well. Bad memories that continue to give us nightmares.

How do we get over a bad memory? I think with time, prayer, friends, patience, and honesty with us and facing our fears and demons head on. Sometimes we can read and educate ourselves and sometimes it takes talking to someone about them.

If you are battling your fears or demons – work on them – God doesn’t want us to live in fear – He wants only the best for us. We have a kind and loving God who protects us. In protecting us, he gives us the knowledge and courage to over come whatever it is that is hindering us from enjoying life, as we should. Find your peace – over come your fears.

Monday, September 27, 2010


Traveled to Houston this morning. Left the house real early – the closer I got to the City part of Houston (as in downtown) the more I noticed drivers doing things besides driving and paying attention.

One man was actually reading the paper

A woman was putting on mascara

One man was using his electric (probably battery charged) shaver

A young man was eating his breakfast

Many were drinking “something”

And, more than all of the above was either talking on the cell phone or texting.

Back in February, we had a wreck. The young lady was texting and speeding. She ran smooth up into the back of a 16’ trailer.

When we got to her, we asked, “Are you okay?” Yes, she assured us and I think her that she was indeed just fine. “Were you texting?” I asked after looking down at her hand with a phone in it. She jerked the phone out of sight and said; “Now I’m not!”

Well imagine that!

I wonder how she would have felt had there been someone hurt or Lord forbid, dead?

I wonder if the distraction of texting and causing accidents has happened in the past?

I wonder – lots of things. I have prayed for this young lady ever since the wreck. I pray that she has learned something from it all, that she won’t jeopardize her life or anyone else’s. I’ve also prayed hoping that she has Jesus as her Lord and Savior.

I’m grateful that material things can be repaired.

And, most of all, I am grateful to know that had it been Jess’ time to die, that he would have ascended to Heaven – because of his personal walk with God.

God tells us to “pray for one another, love one another.” Sometimes when our material things are in jeopardy – that is hard to do.

Sunday, September 26, 2010

Answered Prayers

My heart is jumping with joy at the news of prayers being answered.

A young fella from deep East Texas has been battling cancer. His mom is a single mom – who loves her children beyond the imagination. I’ve felt her pain and her hurt for her son in her posts on facebook. But through it all – she has held to her faith. She has said that the prayers of others have gotten her through this ordeal.

Another friend has gotten a job that she didn’t know if she would get or not. She went from part-time to full time in a complete different state with the same company.

Another friend phoned and she has almost completed her book that she has been writing and she already has a publisher!

God has been so gracious in answering prayers. One of the things that I’m often reminded of – is that prayers are answered in God’s time – not ours – and sometimes the most blessed of prayers for us are those that go unanswered.

It’s all about God’s season for us.

Saturday, September 25, 2010


I may have told you about our cats – they are simply “dump cats” – because they got dumped on us before they even had their eyes open. They were wild as the west Texas wind in the middle of a sand storm!

We caught them – one by one – and put them in a box – so we could at least feed and water them. I refuse to allow an animal nor human to go hungry. They could smell the food that was the only way they knew where it was.

As they got older, their eyes opened, and the wild continued to come out in them. The black kitten was killed in the middle of the road. The deaf orange kitten died within a few days of landing here. The gray kitten, hung around and was named Stubby, as did the Siamese looking kitten – who was the smallest of them all – thus the name “Munchkin”

Munchkin – still, after almost 2 years of being here, will not allow anyone to pick her up. If a stranger comes to the house, she hides. She’s not an indoor cat – she is definitely an outdoor critter. She is demanding – wanting her food first thing in the morning. And, she wants to rub against your leg and be petted.

She will get between your feet and almost trip you up. She has recently been allowed to stay with me in the studio while I work. She has learned that she can get between my back and the back of the chair – curl up in a ball and sleep for hours.

I’ve often thought how, as children of God we don’t always take that leap of faith and trust in God. How we hold back a little. How we wait until we are confident of the situation or how we try to manager our own lives.

Some of the most exciting and blessed things that have ever happened to me have been because I took a leap of faith with God. Maybe I/we need to take those leaps more often – or better yet, have more faith that God is awesome today and everyday!

Friday, September 24, 2010

The Old Dog Trot House

The Old Dog Trot House

My grandparents, at one time, lived in the old Woolam place in San Augustine County. The old house was divided by what we in the South call a “dog trot” On one side would be bedrooms and on the other would be a parlor, dining room and kitchen area. The “dog trot” would be a hall of sorts that would connect the two sections – today we may refer to the “dog trot” as a wide hallway.

At my grandparent’s house, you would enter through a screened door off the front porch that was the width of the house all across the front of it. The first door to the right was a bedroom with 4 double beds in the same room. The next area opened up to her kitchen. At the end of the hallway – was an old water well – where we would drop the bucket down into the well, once the bucket got heavy, we would pull it up over the pulley and have the coldest, cleanest water imaginable.

On the left side as you came in the first door was a living room – and always in my grandparent’s house – a bed was always in the living room. The next door was my grandparent’s bedroom – directly across from the kitchen.

The living room had a fireplace. During the winter we’d huddle around it. There wasn’t any central air or heat.

It’s funny looking back on those days – we never complained about the lack of heat nor any air conditioning. During the summer, to cool down, we’d pull the mattresses out on the front porch to sleep in the cool breezy night air.

During power outages, a friend who works for the light company says, people actually curse you out because they are hot and without power and air-conditioning. It’s funny how, when we lose a luxury – which we learn to complain, luxuries that many do not have and never have had nor will ever have.

I think maybe we need to learn to endure more – to learn to be grateful of what we have when we have it. And, perhaps along the way, when our own times are tough – we can survive without whining. We had to learn this valuable lesson during the three weeks after Hurricane Rita – when we had no power – no air conditioning. We learned we could survive without it if we have to – and without complaints.

Thursday, September 23, 2010

Giving of Yourself

God has been so gracious to us all. What do we have that is free? Time? Talents?

I think one of the most valuable things we have – is ourselves. I’m learning the more we give of ourselves – whether it is just a friendly phone call to let someone know you were thinking of them, or a quick email, or, yes I am old fashion – writing a little note and putting it into the post office - the more blessings I receive.

Giving of ourselves could also mean physically doing something for someone, especially an older person – maybe cleaning their yard for them, or taking over some baked goods, or just sitting and listening to them talk.

Giving of ourselves doesn’t necessarily mean having to “use money” to help someone.

Try to do one thing for one person each day – giving of you. You may just find in doing so, that you’ve made the receiving party’s day better – but I can also assure you – somewhere down the line – you will be abundantly blessed.

“Be ye doers of the world…” Seek your blessings each and everyday through kindnesses to others. Some blessings are small and some are grander – no matter the size – they are all blessings!

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

She's a Texan!

My friend left her bad situation. Has come 1900 miles back to Texas. She did it on faith. She did it because doors were opened for her. She did it through a lot of praying by herself and others.

She has come home. She is back to officially being a Texan! She has her new Texas driver’s license coming in the mail, her car is a Texan now baring nice shiny new Texas plates – even the silver in the tags and the car color match.

She made a list yesterday of things that needed to be accomplished. The majority on the list was scratched off yesterday as “completed”. Today she also applied for her passport. “I never thought I would be getting a passport for anything.”

She’s had a lot of “I never thought I would be doings” since we picked her up. She is already blossoming and overcoming the past. I'm so proud of her!

Today, thrilled, excitement in the air, she was told she got her job transfer! She starts Thursday. All we could say was, “God is so good!”

Faith, prayer, determination, a little help along the way – helps a person succeed in life. There is always someone less fortunate than ourselves – seek them, find them, be a mentor – and especially be a prayer warrior for them!

God is SO good – Always! Pass a good one!

Tuesday, September 21, 2010


We are helping a friend move from out of State back home to Texas. It’s amazed us at the things that has to be done to “be registered” – cars, insurance, drivers licenses.

This morning, we made a list of things that have to be done. To save on gas, we numbered the errands, after prioritizing what really had to be done as soon as possible.

Drivers licenses – there is only fifteen days after you move here to get them transferred to a Texas license – which also means retaking a drivers written and driving test.

Getting an inspection sticker before you can get the car transferred from out of State to Texas.

I was lost as to which needed to be done first. So, I called Robert, an older gentleman who runs a gas station and does inspections, to ask his advice.

I think it’s wonderful to be able to call upon folks who are more expertise than us when we have questions or need a problem solved.

I thought of how wonderful God has been at solving problems and giving me answers through my life. It’s a wonderful feeling to know that God loves us, no matter what, He is forgiving, He is intelligent, and He can give us the best advice of anyone.

Pass a good one!

Monday, September 20, 2010

Domestic Violence

Have you ever seen a bird with a broken wing? There are people and sanctuaries who helps mend the wing – at first the bird is afraid to fly – he may have forgotten how. The caregiver works the wing gently – to a point that it is a reminder of how to fly.

When a person has been abused – whether it is physically, mentally, or emotionally – someone needs to be the wind beneath their wings. Someone needs to help the person learn how to fly, to breath, to live, to laugh, to smile – without fear.

Someone needs to help guide the abused, someone needs to hug them – give them reassurance – give them praise for jobs well done or at least attempts – help build the self-esteem or, even, laugh at silly things – teaching them that it’s ok to make mistakes without retribution.

There is more domestic violence of some sort in our lives than many want to know about nor do anything about. Take the time to go to a women’s abuse center. Go hear the stories. Close your eyes while they tell the story of their lives – then thank God each and everyday that you weren’t a part of that.

Hug them. Sometimes a hug, in itself, is more than a million dollars to someone. Smile at them. That’s a form of showing them everything is going to be okay. And, lastly, pray for them – that they will grow, nurture, and blossom – as well as that they will never go back.

Friday, September 17, 2010

Mama Cat

When I first moved to where I live now, there was a skinny looking orange cat that started coming around. Being one who cannot stand to see a skinny animal or one mistreated, I started putting feed out each day.

Rarely was there a day even on weekends that Mama Cat didn’t make sure I was up by 6am. She was like the mama who gets the kids up each morning for school; thus, I named her “Mama Cat”.

If I was not at the back door by 6am each morning to give her, her morning portion of feed, she would meow and meow at the back door. If that didn’t work, she would go to under my bedroom window and start her hollering. She knew exactly what time it was when I opened the shed door where the food was kept. She patiently waited until her scoops were made then would follow me back to her bowl.

Mama Cat never let me touch her. She never allowed me to hold her. She would come within 2’ of me, sit, stare, meow – but that was the minimum distance. I would talk to her, her head would move side to side, she would yawn, but all the time, I think she understood me. It was a silent relationship in some manners.

People are kind of like that. Some have walls built up around them. Maybe they’ve been hurt in the past, maybe they don’t know how to give love themselves. I don’t know. People and cats are strange like that.

After Hurricane Rita, by then I’d been here for fifteen years, there was no sign of Mama Cat. I figured the 125 mph winds had blown her away if she hadn’t succumbed to the wind and rain.

One morning, some nine months after Hurricane Rita, I heard her meow at the back door! I was thrilled to see her, even though she was ragged, skinny, hair missing – she was still Mama Cat. I headed to get her something to eat – she meowed again – a strange sort of meow – I sat down on the stairs. For the first time, Mama Cat came to me, brushed against my legs, allowed me to pet her. She started walking away, turned, gave me a silent stare for what seemed like minutes, and walked away. We’ve never seen her since.

I think that was a God thing – she came back to bring me hope that things could be rebuilt, joy in seeing her for a last time, and peace knowing she survived. And, I think she came back to thank me and to tell me good-bye.

I believe that in the end, if we all do good things, we may not be thanked by those we help – but somewhere down the line – we will be blessed by others.

Thursday, September 16, 2010



I have to interview a lot of folks in preparation for trials. It amazes me the concept that our defendants may have of what folks may say about them.

I’ve had some clients who will say, “Oh I know he doesn’t like me and won’t be favorable for me.” And, it turned out just the opposite – the witness was extremely favorable.

Then I’ve had clients who say, “Oh we were really good friends and did lots of things together.” When talking with the witness, I learn that they really couldn’t stand to be around the client and “tolerated” them.

I’ve made lots of mistakes in my life. But the older I get, I want to make sure when I say something – that it’s the truth, that it’s what I mean, and that I’m remembered to be a fair but firm person.

I’m sure there are people who don’t care for me – does that hurt my feelings? In a way, it bothers me what others think. But my biggest quest is “what does God think?”

We are only human. We cannot please everyone all the time. So many folks try to be like the lizards who change colors to suit their environment.

I think if we are planning our future – that what God thinks about us is the most important thing of all. And, if we get that part of our lives right, the rest will fall into place. We don’t have to please but one person – our Father in Heaven. And, when we all get to the Pearly Gates, that’s who we will be judged by – Him and only Him.

Wednesday, September 15, 2010


I love to sew. I love to quilt. I remember learning to quilt on my grandmother’s pedal sewing machine. I believe I was around 7 years old when I made my first quilt.

We didn’t have central air and heat when I was growing up, so, during the wintertime, I would sleep in the feather mattress with those heavy quilts piled on top of me. Finding that warm spot and knowing that those quilts were hand sewn by my grandmother gave me an ultra feeling of warmth.

As a child, when the ladies were over to quilt. We were to be “seen and not heard”. But our ears were open! I remember the ladies talking about going to the Mercantile on a certain day because the new flour would be out. That simply meant new fabric would be in. My first pair of good step-ins was made from flour sakes. I remember Maw made me a matching top and step-ins to sleep in. I thought I was the cat’s meow!

Maw once said, “You know, a quilt has many meanings. It’s a thing of beauty, it’s a thing of love, it’s a gift that lasts forever, it’s a piece of yourself when you give it, it keeps you warm, it will wrap around you to give you comfort in your life’s storms and if you close your eyes, it’s like God just wrapping himself around you when you are sad or lonely.”

I love making quilts for someone special. About 15 years ago, I listed 25 people who had made an impact in my life. Many, I’d not spoken to in years. Out of the blue, they received a quilt made especially for them. Most sent loving thanking you notes telling me how special that was for them. It was more special for me to finally give something back to someone who had helped or befriended me during my life.

I saw then and there, my grandmother was right. Giving a quilt is giving love! Pass a good one!

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Forward Ever Backward Never

Forward Ever, Backward Never

As a beginner – no matter what it is – sewing, making jewelry, cooking, or any other type of something new that we are learning to do – sometimes we have to go backward – rip something out or remake something or take it all apart or maybe even just start all over.

I’m not the same person I was even ten years ago or even five years ago. I would like to think I am more assured of myself. I would like to think I’m more calm and able to roll with the flow a little better.

As Christians, we aren’t the same as when we first accepted Christ as our Savior. It’s a forward ever – in growth, spiritually, mentally, physically, or emotionally – and it’s a backward never – we don’t want to go back to the beginning and start over to go back to the unsaved days.

I’ve recently told a girlfriend, who is about to go out on a major adventure, that she shouldn’t look back on the” what if’s” or the “what I should’ves” or “if only”. She’s being given an opportunity to finally learn who she is all about, to experience a positive side of life, to grow her self-esteem, to peel back the layers of hurt like an onion – until she gets to the core of her heart. She’s being given a chance to start a fresh – a new life is welcoming her.

God give us all a new life – if we just accept Him.

God says we will grow in strength and in might. I think that in itself is a pretty doggone good reason not to go backward. “I press toward the mark of the High Calling…”

Forward ever, backward never.

Monday, September 13, 2010

A Rhyme and a Reason

A Rhyme and a Reason

How many times have you started out of the driveway, gotten down the road and remembered you’d forgotten something at home? It could’ve been something as simple as a piece of mail for the post office, a grocery list or if you were traveling even your purse/wallet.

I used to get real frustrated to have to turn around and go back when someone in the car would say “I forgot……” It would nag at me.

One day, we had to turn around for a trivial (in my opinion) something. I was not a happy camper. We returned, started out again and not a half a mile from our house, there was a really bad accident.

Calculating where EMS/EMT’s were, the police department, this accident had occurred about 15-20 minutes prior. An eighteen-wheeler had run a red light and crashed into a small vehicle, killing the people inside.

A cold chill ran down my spine, had we not gone home, that could’ve been us.

I stopped, got out of my vehicle and hugged my young son. I was so grateful for God’s saving grace.

From that day on, when little things like having to go back for something forgotten, I just say, “there’s a rhyme and a reason for it and there’s no sense in getting upset over the little stuff.”

Sunday, September 12, 2010


A friend of mine went off on her husband today. I mean really went off on him. Shouting, screaming, and cursing. I’ve never heard her do that in a long time.

I can understand to an extent why she did what she did, but not to the level she took it.

She is the bread winner of the house. Everything they have belonged to her prior to the marriage. He has a bad habit of not listening to what she says she needs done – even more correct, he has a bad happen of listening to everyone BUT her when it comes to repairs.

For instance, this morning it was, take the van back to the repair shop, the wires are exposed and they need to be enclosed like it was prior to the wreck and mounted closer to the under carriage and there needs to be more than one screw holding the adapter.

As in the past, he allowed another “man” to guide him as to what or how the wires should be handled. Each time “hubby dearest” doesn’t listen, it ends up costing my friend mega dollars in one form or another.

Friend arrives at dealership, gets out and explains to the repairman: “I need the wires to be enclosed in the plastic tubing so that the wires are protected from the weather.” “OH that’s what you want.” Says the repairman. Then looking at hubby dearest, he says “why didn’t you say that in the first place?”

Girlfriend was furious that hubby dearest couldn’t follow simple instructions.

I thought of the ranting and raving. And, I thought of “how would Jesus have handled that situation?

I am so grateful we have a loving, kind God who gently leads us. I’m glad that we aren’t shouted at. I cannot even imagine how God feels when we do not follow his instructions. I’m glad we are forgiven for our mistakes.

I hope my girlfriend reads this, and perhaps, they can both apologize to each other – he for not listening and her for being overtly too much!

Saturday, September 11, 2010



This day and age when folks look at movie stars, rock stars, country singers, and professional athletes as their heroes, I thought it would be fun to ask several of my friends – who and why – is your hero.

I was really surprised at some to the answers.

One wrote: “Lets take the people that raised us now - they are heroes. I find that my hero, my mom, made many mistakes along the way, readily admitted to me she was not the best parent and was sorry for a lot of things she had done. She apologized to me for not leaving any thing of monitory value. i said, “Mom, you were the best parent a child could hope for. You loved me for who I was no matter how bad I screwed up. You were always there for me and more importantly and I knew I was loved. What more could I have asked for from a parent and a hero.” A real parent sacrifices her whole life for her family and not once asks for any notoriety, does not want or expect to be put on a pedestal, all she ever asked for was respect. In closing I guess I’m saying any one can be a hero for a day or two, but try being a hero all your life and own up to your mistakes and give unconditionally without wanting your in name in lights or being in the newspaper because you just happen to do something right one day and turn around and screw up the rest of your life, well to me, that’s a real live hero they give and never ask or expect any thing but cry when you give them a hug and tell them you love them.”

Another wrote: it may sound a little cliché but my husband Gary is my hero.

I've been going through a lot with my mother for the past ten years - her

health is failing. It's been heart surgery, broken arm, kidneys failing,

advanced osteo-arthritis and the list just keep going. Just when I think

I'm going down for the count, there he is lifting me up and telling me

everything is going to be all right. He has taken over more of my

responsibilities than I can shake a stick at. He can ease my mind when I

feel like the walls are closing in on me. He's the constant blessing that

I thank God for everyday. He's the strongest and the gentlest man I have

ever known. He's my hero.”

Another wrote: “My mom is my HERO. She led is very simple life as a child. As a wife and mother, she did the same. Never asking for more than what the LORD provides and also thankful for what she has or doesn't have. She has been an example of God's servant; always placing other's needs before hers and always in prayer. Did a wonderful job raising eight (8) children demanding nothing in return but RESPECT and LOVE for God, family and friends.”

Another wrote: “My great grandmother, Granny Butler. In Sept. 1961, I was just a new 7 years old. Hurricane Carla wiped out my life and for years I though it was Carla that destroyed my parent’s marriage and my life. We went to Granny's in San Marcos to ride out the storm. Granny's house was always opened to folks. When my dad left to go back to the coast to get the house repaired he didn't come back to get me. I was left with my mother to live with Granny. She was an angel. While my mother was out carousing at night, Granny fixed me supper, tucked me in, took me on walks, fed me cold peaches on hot days and scolded me for not wearing a bonnet outside. She never laid a hand on me but the soft look and the tilt of her head would let me know right away to straighten up. One very cold day I had to walk to school. I had no coat. Mama spent child support on other things. So Granny wrapped me in the softest hand crocheted shawl. It was a huge thing so she doubled it and put it over my head and body. I just knew I would be the laughing stock of the school in 4th grade, but instead the girls were all nice and cozy with me. For playground, we huddled together and they shared their coats while we put Granny's shawl all around us. It was great. We giggled and laughed because we made our own little tent against the cold and boys.

She also played many an hour of checkers with me. Her eyesight was bad, so I would put white chalk on the black wooden checkers so she could see the pieces on the board. I watched her one day take her little black coin purse and gingerly pull out the money she was saving from her pension to pay the for butane tank refill. Then with my eyes as big as saucers she gave it to my mama. I couldn't believe it because I knew she was saving for the tank. But it kept my mama from going to jail over something--I never knew what. While I lived with my mama, we were constantly on the move. From 3rd grade to 6th I attended 11 different elementary schools, was almost held back a year because I missed so much school. But every time we had a move in the wee hours, we ended up back at Granny's who always took us back in, fed us and took care until the next outburst from my mother and we packed and left again.

When in sixth grade and a recent move back to San Marcos from Bellaire, my mama had a huge explosion one day. My mama hit and beat me. Claiming I stole her stuff. My Granny had come in the back door and came to my room where the yelling was. I remember her walking in and the look in her face showed fright, but she tightened her arms across her body and said "Mary Lois!! Stop!" My mama was in the process of stripping me of my clothes and threatened to put a diaper on me and drop me off on a corner downtown by the courthouse so people could see what a baby I was. I remember that my mama turned and I really thought she was going to hit my Granny. I was scared and confused and crying awful. But, I truly believe that God sent and angel right at that moment and stopped her hand. She just through her hand over and stormed out of the room, cussing. The end of my sixth grade year, I wasn't told, but my mama gave me up to live with my dad and step-mom. My living with Granny never happened again and I didn't get to see her very much after that. I hated it as loved her so much and her sweet, gentle ways with me. She was my angel, my comforter, my friend, my checker player, my cook, my teacher, my listener, my love and my HERO.”

Another wrote: “My hero was my mother. She came from a family of 9 children. Her father died from an accident when she was only 7 years old. Born in 1922, she was affected by the Depression. They lived in Oklahoma and would pick different crops to put food on the table. By the age of 9, she was cooking on a wood burning stove while the rest of the family went to pick cotton or any other crops that needed to be harvested. She would prepare their meals and take it to them in the fields. Later when she was a teenager, she would clean other people's houses for a whole whopping 50 cents per week and she worked 5 days a week. But, then, shoes were a nickel and dresses cost 15 cents. My grandmother never got help from any of her family or her in-laws. In fact, mother told the story that her paternal grandfather came one day and took their only dairy cow. He said that his son had owed him money and he was taking the cow in lieu of the money. He never seemed bothered that his own grandchildren would be adversely affected by his actions. My mother never forgave him and often said that if he had been on fire, she wouldn't have crossed the street to spit on him. She felt sure that her grandfather had even lied about the debt so that only added to the animosity. It instilled in her the standard that you always told the truth no matter what the consequences. But, because money was tight and everyone had to work, she only made it to the 7th grade. She always did whatever she could to encourage us to make better grades and to finish high school. That was her main goal that all of her children finish high school. She was thrilled when I went to college. But, she was even more than just the mother who made sure that we made it through high school. When I went through my divorce, she opened her home and welcomed me and my daughter to stay with her for as long as we needed to. My daughter was only 9 when I left my husband and I worried about her being a "latchkey" kid. I was more than happy to stay with my mother because I knew that while I was at work, my daughter had a safe place to go. And, because my daughter was there for 5 years, she was able to form a bond with my mother that no other grandchild had a chance to have. My daughter just had her first child and she named her baby, Audrey Elise with Elise being a tribute to my mother whose name was Elsie. I couldn't have been more proud. I know a lot of people will say their mother or their father is their hero and it may seem a little clichéd to pick one of those people. But, my mother was such an influence on my own life that it trickled down to my daughter in the form of "you will give me 4 years of college!" I not only got the 4 years but my daughter went on to medical school and is now a pediatrician. I know my mom would be so proud. So, yes, she is my hero.”

Today many will say that those who died on 9-11 are their heroes. Heroes come in all shapes, forms, ages, and careers. I hope that you’ve got a special someone in your life that has made an impact on you or is your hero. We all need heroes of some sort. We all need examples – and just hope along life’s way that we are each leaving not only footprints in the sand – but we leave a footprint on hearts as well. Pass a good day.

Friday, September 10, 2010

I did not write the following, but could not resist sharing it. Every tabloid on the shelf is making their own predictions, this is what I believe and could not have written it better myself. Thanks to Karon for sharing!

Top 10 Predictions for 2011

1. The Bible will still have all the answers.
2. Prayer will still be the most powerful thing on Earth..
3. The Holy Spirit will still move.
4. God will still honor the praises of His people.
5. There will still be God-anointed preaching.
6. There will still be singing of praise to God.
7. God will still pour out blessings upon His people.
8. There will still be room at the Cross.
9. Jesus will still love you.
10. Jesus will still save the lost when they come to Him.

Isn't it great to remember WHO is really in control?
And that; "the Word of the Lord endures forever."
( 1 Peter 1:25 )

Pass a good one ya'll!

Thursday, September 9, 2010



I am the only girl. I have an older half brother, Donald. He lived with his mother, and we didn’t see much of him. Growing up I was the only child living with our dad, until I was almost seventeen years old – that’s when my baby brother, Brandon was born, another half-brother – if you are looking at genetics. I love that boy as if he were my own. I want the best for him that life can give. I want all the happiness, wealth and love that he can possibly stand. I want only good things for him.

Today is his birthday!

I’ve often thought, though, I was grown and left home when he was small, what it would’ve been like if we were closer in age? Would I have been the protective older sister? Would we have shared secrets? That doesn’t matter. Brandon has been a huge part of my heart, whether he has ever realized that or not. I would go to meet the devil, if it meant protecting him.

I don’t always agree with him, but that is part of life. I don’t always like the things or the way he says things, that, too, is part of life. None of that means that I do not love him. It’s just best to agree to disagree, hold no grudges, and enjoy the time we have left on this earth together.

I hear in church, we call folks Brother So and So or Sister So and So. For a long time growing up I thought that was odd to call them that, because I wasn’t related to any of them. The more I studied God’s word; I realized that we are all sisters and brothers in Christ.

Love one another as Christ has loved us. Pray for one another.

I miss seeing my brother like we used to see each other. There isn’t a day that goes by I don’t have him or his son, Chase, on my mind. I miss the closeness that we once had. I miss hearing from him daily. It isn’t that we are angry at one another – life has become hectic and busy. He never knows which end of the world I’m at and I hate to bother him with phone calls.

I’m thinking that has to change. We’re both getting older – and I miss him more and more. Love one another…brothers and sisters… pray for one another. Happy Birthday Brandon. I love you!

Wednesday, September 8, 2010



I heard someone the other day say, “I have a new friend.”

I was like “Wow, that’s great! How long have you known her?

“We just met.”

I couldn’t say anything. To me, someone you’ve just met is an acquaintance. . How do you know over time that you are really going to like this person? How do you know whom this person really is or that you can trust them?

Here is what friendship is, in my humble opinion.

A friend is one that if I can’t sleep and have something on my mind I can call at any hour of the day or night. They will talk me or pray me through it.

A friend is someone that knows all your deepest secrets and doesn’t criticize you – but loves you for who you are.

A friend tells you when you are doing wrong.

A friend is a helpmate.

A friend has your back at all times.

A friend is the one who brings the smothered pork chop sandwiches on the plane because she knows her friend isn’t going to like the food!

A friend hugs the fears away.

A friend is who gives us the push to do the things we should and helps makes us a better person.

A friend is a shoulder to cry on when we need it. They are strong for us when our own wings have forgotten how to flap.

A friend is better than family.

A friend loves at all times, is not envious or jealous.

A friend is someone you trust with anything – your money, your husband, your children, and your life.

A friend is one who will sit by your bedside as you lie dying and tell you how pretty you are, and promises not to leave you as you transition into the next life.

A friend is one who helps pick up the pieces when the hurricane blows through and rips your life apart.

A friend is one that makes sure during that hurricane that you’ve got food, water, ice, and anything else they can think of that you may need.

A friendship doesn’t happen over night. It is something that takes years to develop. It’s something that money can never buy. It’s something that no matter how many years keep you apart, you can pick right back up where you left off

I count my blessings for my friendships. Some of my friendships are over fifty years old! What a blessing!

Facebook has helped reunite me with many of my childhood friends. We’ve gotten back together, we have laughed, we have cried, we’re as if nothing has ever happened and no time has gone by. We are gearing up for our 40th class reunion in 2012. I’m tickled pink to be a part of putting together friends again.

Don’t take the word “friend” and use it loosely. Initial introductions are mere acquaintances. Friends love for life and even love after we are long gone.

Cherish your true friendships. It takes being a friend to have a friend. Pass a good one!

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

The Abused

The Abused – Cleaning Up the Mess

Many times the abused will hide from family. They will be withdrawn. They will tell people who asks how things are, “we’re fine.” They are afraid to tell anyone what is truly going on behind closed doors. They wear long sleeves in the summer time to cover the bruises on their arms. They wear long pants or skirts to cover the bruises on their legs. They wear their hair long to cover the bruises of hand marks from around the neck or the back.

They want to leave. They are afraid to leave. They are afraid to make that initial jump. Fear. It’s a powerful thing. There is something that will conquer the fear – it is faith.

If someone is attempting to help the abused, the cycle has to be broken in some way. The abused cannot be allowed to whine, “I really want out”, yet, do nothing towards getting themselves out of the situation. If the abused is not making an effort to pack, get her things in order, to walk away, there is nothing anyone can truly do because the abused will just go back for more.

They’ve learned to live in it. It’s a way of life. They fear money problems. They fear they won’t make it on their own, especially if they have small children. Many fear because they will not be making enough money to support themselves and the children that the abuser will get custody of the children. Many fear the aftermath of what the abuser will do to them once they are gone. Will he come after me? Will he kill me? Will he hurt my children?

The abused has to break the chains that bind them. They have to work harder than most. They have to develop healthy learned behaviors. It’s basically like teaching yourself to walk again.

I have a dear friend, which I finally got to visit not long ago. Her marriage has been dead for a very long time. She’s stayed with the abuser for the children’s sake, for one, and because she had been screamed at from the pulpit that she would go to hell if she wasn’t a submissive, obedient wife and of course, divorce was out of the question.

She got a taste of happiness, joy, and freedom from oppression. There wasn’t anyone telling her negative things. People were complimentary and supportive. She saw there is truly another life. She saw a life she wants.

Getting her to break her chains has been difficult. She wants to leave; she is going to leave, but the “what ifs” keep spewing from her mouth. Finally last night I asked her, “you believe in God?”

“Of course”

“You gave this problem to God and He has answered your prayers with an out, right?”

“Yes with all my heart I believe that.”

“Then WHY are you talking out of both sides of your mouth and worrying about the little things, instead of letting God open the doors for you? Don’t you think He wants better for you than what you are living? Why aren’t you sticking to the plan and working it from your end?”

“Yes, you are right. I promise I will do it.”

I don’t want her to tell me I am right. I want her to be right. I want her to show me that she wants out. God and friends will be there to help an abused, but somewhere along the line, the abused has to help by preparing and doing for themselves even if it’s just getting their paperwork together, if it is possible. (Car titles, insurance papers, birth certificates, income tax information, etc.)

The abused has to read and study. They’ve got to renew their faith in themselves. They have to rebuild that self-esteem. They’ve got to develop the attitude “Yes I Can” do anything that God decides is right for me! I have those three simple words embroidered in a frame hanging in my office. It’s a reminder of where I’ve been and where I’m going

I think if we find a scripture that befits our needs, recite it everyday, cling to it, it will make us strong. Philippians 4:13 is my favorite scripture, “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.”

Getting over my abusive past – not just from failed marriages – but from childhood as well, has been a journey. It’s a journey that is still on going. I learn more about myself everyday. I pray, if you are in an abusive situation, that you will begin your journey to freedom. Do not look back. It’s forward ever, backward never. The path may not always be easy, but it’s a lot better than living in an abusive relationship.

When we drive out of her driveway, all she is going to see in her rear view mirror is a big white cargo van pushing her home. I know she is going to blossom and be a thing of beauty. It may take her a while, but, time is on our side, and at least, she will be alive to share God’s blessings that He has in store for her.

Monday, September 6, 2010

The Abuser Part II of a Series

The Abuser Part II of a Series

For the most part, the abuser, comes off as a sweet charming person. Abusers are not only men! I’ve had to counsel several men who were so kind and “wimpy” that they were the abused.

I’ve found that the abuser is normally a “closet case”. What do I mean? Simply that if you met him on the street you would think he was the most charming wonderful person you could ever meet.

They are proficient in details, cool, collective, and everyone likes them on their job. They are the center of the crowd. They always have a smile or a kind comment for someone.

“Closet case” is one that once the doors are closed, the abuse begins. Many times the abuse is only verbal. Degradations, name-calling, belittling to name a few are a few of the ways a person can be abused. Words come out like “you are stupid”, “you have no friends”, “no one is going to love you the way I do” or “no one will put up with you the way I have.” Lord I hope not! I hope when an abused gets out of the negative relationship that they find peace and someone who WILL truly love them. Because, if being abused is love, I don’t want any part of that!

Fear and dread of being alone with him sets into the mind. Fear that the verbal abuse will escalate to something more – and many times it does.

The abuser is a bully. He takes out his own inhibitions, his own failures, his own sadness, his own inadequacies, and hate on people he can control.

The abuser may have learned his actions from his childhood. It may seem “normal” to him. Or his actions could be a learned behavior – a behavior that makes him feel superior.

No matter how the abuser learned – NO ONE deserves to stay in an abusive relationship! If anyone, Preacher, Priest, counselor ever says you have to stay – tell them to go live with the person for a while – I’ll bet you money – they, too, would be ready to get out! Remember, those giving advise are human – Pray it out. Find a way out. But GET OUT. Get out before one of you ends up dead!

My brother has told me many times, he thought of the relationship between Anthony and me. I had to leave a very precious part of my life with Anthony – but as my brother said – “If you wouldn’t have got out, you’d either be in prison or dead.”

I beg of you, to get out of relationships that are not good for you. There are women’s shelters, there are friends – even if your family isn’t supportive of you – there are ways to get out.

I do not believe that God wants us to be abused. I believe that through the abuse we grow – if we want to grow – in strength, courage, spiritually through prayers and supplication. I have no doubt that you will be a better person – if ONLY for yourself. Your life is worth more than staying in the chaos.

You are a special someone, God doesn’t make junk. Take care of your life. Never allow abuse. Stand up for yourself. Get out if you need to. Study, read, and educate yourself – and in the interim – I’m going to be praying for your safety!

Pass a good one!

Sunday, September 5, 2010

The Abuser - Part I of a Series

The Abuser - Part I of a Series

Once upon a time about twenty years ago, I was married to a man named Anthony. Anthony was every girl’s dream of the knight in shining armor. He came into my life when I needed someone to make me feel special. After dating for almost a year, we married. That courtship and dating, to this day was a dream. It was the most wonderful time of my life. I believed I laughed more during that time – smiled so much that the muscles in my face hurt. I could have written the world's greatest love story.

The wedding was small, a family affair. I had previously been married and didn’t want any thrills and pomp. Just his family and whoever in mine could make it. There was the ceremony, a pachanga (party) afterwards with fajitas, tacos, brisket, and all the trimmings. It was much more than I could have asked for.

A week after the wedding, Anthony didn’t come home from work. I called everyone I knew asking about him. His family said they didn’t know anything, which I knew was a lie.

A week later, Anthony came home – drunk, reeking of liquor and high on crack cocaine. HOW on earth had I missed the sign? How did I not see he was on crack?

I took my first beating that day for asking where he’d been and blowing up over the drugs. Drugs was something we had discussed many times and he knew – he knew – that I was adamantly against drugs of any sort. He knew I didn’t want it around me in any manner.

I felt I had made so many mistakes in my life that I just couldn’t face anyone that I’d made another mistake. I tried to talk to family about it. “Oh maybe it’s your imagination, you married him you better stay.”

After another beating, I went to the Sheriff. He said, “That’s the way it is in the valley, if you don’t like it, get out.” I realized without a job, without money, without anyone to help me, I was stuck in a no win situation.

Months passed. Each time my family would visit I felt refreshed. When they left I was deflated. I also had to endure questions if I had told them anything – meaning had I told them of his behavior. I would swear no, but he didn’t believe me.

One night, I got up and went to the bathroom – I got on my knees and prayed for God to guide me – to show me a way to a better life – and if I could survive the move I would never allow another individual to go through what I’d been through.

God heard that prayer. I was assisted in and out of a cab by the driver, I was too beat to move much on my own. I was assisted on to a plane which took me back to familiar territory. I wasn’t welcomed home by family. I had friends who helped me. Garry was accused of being my lover and that was very far from the truth. Cindy brought me blankets to keep warm, Kathy offered me love, a listening ear. Others helped as well. I got strong. I got a job. I made it in life. I studied battered women, I read every book I could get my hands on, I studied the batterer, I studied behavioral patterns and I prayed. I refused to allow this to ever happen to me or someone I loved, ever again.

I believe that a person’s passed, makes them what they are today. Through my experiences, I have been able to assist others – working in Women’s Shelters, acting as an expert in Murder trials of those who have been battered, of counseling clients – letting them realize that the abuser was just that – and it wasn’t always anything that they did or didn’t do, I’ve been so blessed in my journey – so much so that I wouldn’t take away the pains and hurts and tears I had – because it made me strong and who I am today.

God says we are to rejoice even in the turbulent times. I wasn’t rejoicing too much back then – in all honesty – but I rejoice today as the victor of a battle. I will rejoice in helping anyone get out of a bad relationship. I will rejoice even for the difficult times they are going through.

Rejoice. That’s a strange word when things are tough. Jesus said, “Cast all your burdens on me…” I think that if we did that more often than trying to carry them on our own shoulders life just may be a little easier for us.

I’m praying earnestly today for any individual who is in a bad relationship. I’m praying they will find the courage and strength to get out, before it is too late. I’m praying that they, too, will grow from the negative – to take those limes and turn it into limeade – to take the scraps of their lives and make a quilt to wrap themselves up in. And in the end, let them rejoice and be victorious.

Pass a good one.

Saturday, September 4, 2010

Three Numbers

The Three Numbers

The Three Numbers

Ever glance at a clock and there are three consecutive numbers – like it’s !:11 or 2:22? Ever think about when folks die, it’s usually in threes?

My grandmother used to tell me that folks died in threes – because it was the way Jesus died – the one on each side of Jesus and Jesus. I never really paid a lot of attention to that, but I’m beginning to think she is right.

A few years back, Jess and I were weighing a business decision after Hurricane Rita had hit. We weren’t as devastated as most but we surely had our fair share and probably a little more of damages. It seemed every time something happened – it happened in threes. Three trees went down at once. Three properties were destroyed. Three animals died.

Times were very stressful. It seemed those three consecutive numbers would pop up during a time when I was afraid of something, frustrated or stressed. Each and every time there were three consecutive numbers. Threes. I sloughed it off to oddity.

Late one still night while the house was quiet, I was fervently praying and telling God I felt so alone. I was pouring my heart out about my fears and anger and desires. As if I’d turned on a radio a voice as clear as day said, “I’ve been telling you I am with you. I’ve given you the signs – we are the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost.”

The THREES!! God had been telling me all along that He was there with me! I have never looked at three consecutive numbers the same since that day.

God says even in our troubled times, He is there with us. He loves us. He protects us – even sometimes from ourselves!

Isn’t it wonderful to have a little sign from God reminding us of His presence?

Pass a good one!

Friday, September 3, 2010



I’ve had some very close family members and friends die. I thought for the longest that their deaths were so devastating that I couldn’t go on without them. My grandmother used to say, “you rejoice at death and cry at a birth”. I never really understood that until I got older.

Death comes in lots of forms. It is something that terminates us from the world we know it. We have death of friends or love ones, death or the ending of jobs we really liked, death of a pet and even death of a relationship.

I believe death of a loved one – should be like my grandmother said, “rejoiced”. I love when I hear “we are celebrating the Home going of” so and so. I close my eyes, I can hear the trumpets sounding, and I can hear the family and friends shouting with joy – welcoming the person home.

Someone once explained to me, years ago, that death was like a ship going to sea. There are people standing on the wharf – as the ship sails – people watch until there is nothing more than a spec in the horizon. Someone says, “There she goes.”

Then, on the other side of the world, there’s another crowd gathering on another shore. They are waiting patiently. All of a sudden, seeing a spec on the horizon, someone shouts, “THERE SHE IS!”

I’m thinking that is going to be pretty close to what death of a human is like.

Death of a relationship however is another story all in it’s on…many times that death cannot be resurrected. It takes two people working to mend the fences and rebuild the relationship. One cannot do it alone. It’s sort of like a team of oxen that pulls the load together. If only one ox is pulling and the other is standing still, the load is a heavy burden for the one oxen working and pulling.

I believe that death of a relationship may be harder to get over. We often question “what did we do wrong?” or “What could I have done differently.” We brow beat ourselves. Many take on the burden that “if I’d have done this or that differently, just maybe.” I’ve heard Preachers say, “You just aren’t being submissive enough.” I think the submissiveness should be to God, not the devil. We do not have the power to change another person’s thoughts, desires, nor attitude. The change has to come from them.

When relationships die, many times, if the relationship is between a couple, the powerful one will dominate, possibly control, possibly be abusive whether it is in words, actions or deeds. No one deserves to be abused in any manner. It’s best to walk away, with the grace of a woman and not the grief of a child. Accept the ending, not as the end of life, but the beginning of learning who you really are, what God’s purpose for you really is, and walking the walk.

When a relationship is dead – it’s dead – I firmly believe that. And, I do not think that there is anything more frustrating or heartbreaking than to see relationships fail.

I’ve heard Preachers pound the pulpit saying that God abhors divorce. Maybe. But I don’t believe our God wants us to be unhappy either. The one oxen working will eventually lie down – either from tiredness or boredom or giving up. In walking away, or laying down, there is renewed hope of finding one’s self, of having a closer walk with God or saving their own life.

There is one awesome thing to remember about death of a human -when a Christian dies on earth – he has a Heavenly home waiting for him! A Christian on earth is only preparing himself for the real life – the real deal – the life ever after. In life, we exist – we eat, sleep, breathe, pay taxes, do as the law says, have a little fun now and then – but, when we make it to Heaven, what a day of rejoicing that will be!

Death as we know it, will be no more. If you’ve not opened your heart to Jesus Christ, I pray you do so. Jesus said, “I am the way, the truth and the light, no man shall come unto the Father, except by me.” I’m looking forward to the Home Going!

Pass a good one!

Thursday, September 2, 2010



Several years ago, after my divorce, I started a small sewing and alterations business out of the house. I also taught sewing, in my house – with no more than 6-8 students at a time. My Saturday morning class was my favorite one. We’d make huge cat-head biscuits, saw mill gravy and sausage. We’d feast out, and sew. I think they even learned more than the rest of my classes did.

One of my student’s, became a very good friend, as did her husband. Willie Mae and Honey are like family to me. I’ve always said, “we are born into a family, but family is what you end up with in the end.”

I found my house on Park Street. Honey wasn’t too keen on the idea of me being in that neighborhood, because it was close to the River where he worked as a longshoreman, and he knew the elements there. Honey wasn’t one to tell a person what to do, but he had a way of talking to you and sharing scripture with you that would help you figure out what was right and what was wrong in what you were doing.

My days and nights for the first years living there were turbulent. Prostitution, drug dealings, shootings, it all took place. Honey once told me that he was wearing out his knee pads praying for me – because I was” just crazy enough not to take anything off of anyone. “

Honey also told me, “when you get older you pray the prayers you should’ve been praying all along.”

Honey passed a few years back. But the legacy in my life he left will never be forgotten. He was my “let’s go to Breaux Bridge and get cracklins” road buddy. He was my prayer warrior. He was my angel on earth. He always knew when I need him.

One day, while away from my office, he showed up with a fruit basket. My new secretary, Judy, had not a clue as to who he was. To her, he was a well dressed, nice black man. “May I tell her who this is from?” she asked. “Sure, her Honey.” He said with a big ol’ smile and turned and walked out. Now, Judy knew I was married. She had all sorts of thoughts conjuring in her mind until I got back.

“LinMarie, I don’t really like working for someone who is having an affair, I don’t think I want to get involved in that.” She shyly said.

“Ok that’s fine.” I said nonchalantly.

“Well these are from “your honey”

“OH wonderful did Willie Mae come with him?” You could see the real confusion until it was explained Honey was my angel.

Do you have a friend, who will stop what they are doing when you need to talk? Or one that prays for you even when you don’t think you need it? If you do, then you are truly blessed. If you don't I sure hope you find one!

I had such a friend in Honey. He would sit on the front porch of his house early in the morning reading his Bible. I would sometimes go over early just to hear the word and what he was going to teach me that day. Many times, Willie Mae may have already gone to work or still been sleeping. It was my time, with my friend – my praying friend – my angel on earth.

I miss him so much. There isn’t a day that goes by I don’t think of him. I miss sharing the sweet potato pie or the coconut cake – but most of all – I miss his singing and hearing him pray. Honey died praying. What an inspiration he was to all who knew him. And, on the days, when I need to think smart – I wear one of his hats that Willie Mae gave me. I’ve almost worn that hat out wearing it so much. It’s a material thing, but it’s something that keeps me ever so close tangibly to Honey.

I want to be a witness like he was for others. I want to be a helpful praying friend. I think that’s what we all are suppose to be. I want to be able to be a person that through the spirit can guide people when they need it or until their feet can get back on the ground. There’s always someone who has more difficulties than we do. Let’s not forget to be prayer warriors. Remember the Burl Ives song, “Central’s never busy, always on the line, I can talk to Heaven almost any time, tis a royal service built for one and all …..” Pass a good one!