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Showing posts from October, 2011

Evidently, I am not Nita Mehringer...

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I'm wondering if I'm the only one that thought being a "grown up" would look and feel different than it does? Somehow I thought I'd be a combo of Mrs. Cannizaro , Nita Mehringer and my grandma. Mrs. Cannizaro could put out a fabulous meal for a dozen Bethany students at the drop of a hat. Everyone helped and was glad to do so! Nita was wonderful with kids - grew, canned and juiced her own...everything (I think), and had a wonderful, gentle spirit, faith, peace AND sense of humor. My Grandma Johnson - well, I MIGHT have a skewed memory of her because I can't think of anything about her I didn't like. Now I'm older - grown up, I guess. I still have more questions than answers about this life. I do dorky things just about everytime I try to cook, even though I really try hard. I can't seem to be a good enough daughter, mother, wife, friend, pastor's wife, lead worshipper....and now, I really stink at learning to play golf! Golf remind

I Wanna Hold Your Hand...

Many years ago, Dennis and I tried to adopt a little 2 year girl. Because of the place of life that her mama was in at the time, that little girl was basically taking care of herself. A two year old - finding food, protecting herself, setting her own schedule. The thoughts that assail my mind right now still bring on the tears. One thing that stands out was her little voice saying, "me do it" - - - a lot. She grabbed my finger as we went upstairs to go to bed - never being game to have my hand hold HER hand. She wanted to be the one holding on. She didn't know how much safer she would be if she would LET ME HOLD HER HAND. From her perspective, I wasn't worth trusting. But the truth was - my strength was enormously more than her strength - my heart wanted to offer her everything I was - what would it take for her to trust me...especially on the stairs? That roller coaster of an effort to adopt did not end successfully (from our view)...but, she will forever b

I'll Fly Away, Oh Glory?

Here's a crazy deal. On Monday, Dennis and I were coming home from a conference. After the plane took off and was trying to reach the desired altitude there was a very loud whooshing sound that happened - three times. We've flown a lot. I actually like to fly - but, this was a freaky deal. Both Dennis and I were not excited about whatever would cause such a sound. The flight attendant was....very concerned. The pilot was...not confidence building in his way of communicating what was going on. The plane stopped climbing and slowed in speed. We were cruising slow and low. I've never really had a fear of dying in a plane crash before. This time I started to go over the safety procedures in my mind. Something about using my cushion as a flotation device - but we were flying over farms, so I don't know how that would help! I WANTED OFF THAT PLANE! No really. I wanted OFF! I thought about when my dear friend was facing radiation that was't going well with