#3 My Pink Earplugs


We packed plenty of warm clothes for our trip to the northwest that year: jeans, sweaters, flannel shirts, fleece lined hoodies. We’d read of warm mornings at the campsite but cool temps in the mountains. Within the week before the trip, we began to observe different weather reports in the areas we planned to visit: a heat wave was taking place

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He won’t “unfriend” us!


Do you remember when you first heard of Facebook? I heard some women talking. “Are you friends with her?” they inquired of each other. At first, hearing the term friends in this manner was a foreign idea, but it soon caught on,

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Wait! First I Need My Helmet.


I post on my Facebook Author’s page every day, most often using photos or Bible verses, or “sayings” that have spoken to me. Sometimes I select the postings days in advance, scheduling them for a later time. After the post is published,  I review it, as though I haven’t seen it before.

And always – it speaks anew to me. 

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The Poppies of the Field


Passersby stopped their cars. Some actually drove in the big circle driveway, walked up the steps to the porch, and knocked on the kitchen door.

“May we look at your flower garden?” they asked.

 

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Green, Green Leaves of Grace


I awake again with a burdened heart, a sad heart. My daughter’s mastectomy broke me, the weight sitting on me like an elephant, taking my breath. Mornings on the porch restored my breath, albeit shallow, yet sustaining, consoling. The next bout in this healing process is now here – chemo.
 
I go once again, from my bed, to my porch.
 
I breathe in the morning breeze and feel the warmth of sunshine on my skin. I have a spirit to know it.
 
Orioles sing. Dogs bark on a farm on a far road. The sounds carried in the breeze. Peacocks and roosters crow across the country road. Chippy birds chatter. I have ears to hear.
 
Green, green maple leaves by the thousands – the millions – dance beside me. I have eyes to see.
 
I open the Word. I don’t choose the Psalm. It chooses me. It speaks. I listen. With the Psalmist, I “praise the Lord … I praise the name of the Lord … for the Lord is good … great … does whatever pleases Him … will vindicate His people and have compassion on His servants.” His servants. That’s me. That’s my daughter. We are His servants.
 
And now, once again, I know His grace. He has revealed it to me in a thousand ways. I have a spirit to know it. I have ears to hear and eyes to see. It is a beautiful sustaining grace like the green, green of the maple leaves.
 
I breathe it in – grace upon grace ..
 
Psalm 135
 

At the Cross (Route 66, Chapter 6)


Ron was hoping to see ranches, but Texas is a BIG state and there weren’t very many ranches this far north, in the panhandle. We did see a few, and I was fascinated with their old windmills.. catching pics of all I could see along the road.

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