The Rock Star Tour of 2018

I was somewhat shocked to see the figure, after counting the states that Dave and I have driven through in the last nine months – nineteen. Nineteen states in nine months we have seen. “Pretty impressive,” I’d say. “Like a rock star!” Eleven states had us overnight and seven of the eleven for more than one night. This, I would like to remember. What a blast it has been.

Packing for this last trip went much more smoothly than our prior trip. Still, I brought too much stuff. But like I told Dave, “At least I’m getting better. At least this time, I only brought four bins of stuff we didn’t need!” Trying to be sarcastic and obviously exaggerate, this only made us laugh harder, as we both knew that I wasn’t exaggerating much. “Okay,” I conceded, and then added, “at least they were small bins.”

Because I wish to do different than I do, and not feel the need to lug around with me every little thing I think we might need on a trip, I am writing about it with the hope that it will help me continue to get better, for future trips. I am doing it for Dave, so that he won’t have to make as many unnecessary trips to the truck, hauling stuff. I am doing it for anyone who wishes they could pack lighter, including me. So while it is fresh on my mind, I will write of those things next. First, something I must get off my mind – saying, “I’m sorry,” to some of our Indy friends.

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You see, we were in town last week and did not let most of our friends know. In fact, we told very few of us being around, as our goal was to simply spend time with our daughter and celebrate her passing nursing school. Yes, Amanda is going to be a registered nurse! And we are so very proud of her.

As per the plan, we had no plans for the three days we were there, and we stayed quite busy spending time together. We walked all around downtown, which is also where we stayed, and when we got tired of walking, we rented bikes. We saw lots and lots of sites. We also did “Escape Room Indy” one night and had a blast. The few friends we did see, we have known since Amanda she was four. Two of them had her in their childcare program until she started kindergarten.

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My point is – some of you reading this might feel left out upon discovering that we were in Indy and did not at least say hi. And if you know me, then you know that feeling left out is something I do not like – for myself or others. So at the risk of sounding defensive, well, yeah, I am.

It was our “Rock Star Tour.”

That being said, I can now share the many fun photos of our trip without worrying about a beloved friend feeling left out. If you still do, please know that we are sincerely sorry. We hope to return to Indy soon and when we do, we hope to see you!

Our first stop on our “Rock Star Tour” was in Tennessee to visit friends. Little did we know nine months ago when we made them our first stop on our “Wonderfully Wacky Road Trip” as well, that the next time we’d see them, Stan would be doing chemo and radiation. A real trooper he has been through it all, both of them, indeed! After enduring a dose of radiation, he insisted on taking us to their friend’s place along the river – a place and a person we have heard much about throughout the last three years they have lived there.

A real treat it was for sure. Thanks guys! I will be sure to write more about it soon!

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The Hastings Senior Citizens Center

There was quite a spread served-up today at the weekly Wednesday lunch (as usual) and thankfully a handful of people walked in right at noon, helping to keep the Hastings Senior Citizen’s Center open. Six bucks is all it costs to have a home-cooked meal, including dessert and an ice tea or ice water. The money goes toward paying utilities and insurance on the building, so that it may remain open and available for rent.

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Several of the area’s residents each bring a dish to donate for the cause. There is generally a variety to choose from for all courses – the main course, side dishes and desserts. I like to try everything. Today, to save room, I mixed together two different side dishes and thought, “What a coincidence, they are both pickled!” Or were they? I don’t know, but I know they were both good that way.

A few of the folks who frequent the lunch went to high school with my mom and dad. I think that is neat. We sat with one of such friends at lunch. This person also attends the UMC in Waurika and we discussed how much we loved last week, seeing The Master’s Storyteller, and discovered we have had the same song rolling around in our head ever since. So, again I will say but in another way, if you ever get the chance to see Wesley Putnam, The Master’s Storyteller, I highly doubt you will be disappointed.

And, if you ever happen to be in the Hastings, Oklahoma area on a Wednesday promptly at noon, stop by the Hastings Senior Citizen’s Center for lunch. Not only will you get a great meal for only $6, you will be helping the whole town. No one wants to see the Center close down. It is located on Main Street across from the post office and available to rent for most occasions.

If you really want to know… I’m a Cathodist

Best I can figure, I am a Cathodist Misallievangelical with close ties to the Baptist’s. However, I am mostly Catholic, then Methodist. The other two churches I elected to become a member of, I did so during my seeking years. I spent a few looking for a place where I would feel that I “fit in.”

My mom might disagree with me and say I am mostly Methodist, since I was born into a Methodist family, baptized as a baby in the Methodist Church and where I attended for the first twenty-two years of life. A good case, but so is the one that claims I am mostly Catholic. I had to earn it.

After attending weekly classes for a year after Dave and I were married, I passed the test that declared me to be Catholic. I probably had an advantage as well, since I had graduated from Cathedral High School. The church accepted my baptism as a baby but not my confirmation, which they call first communion. So I took part in a ceremony with a class of second graders in order for the Catholic church to recognize our union under God. Whew, we pulled it off – married by the Methodists AND approved by the Catholics. Both in-laws were in luck.

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We did about a decade of semi-faithful Catholicism before long days at the community park took over the time commitment. Before too long, though, we started going to a Christian and Missionary Alliance Church after a neighbor invited us. We loved it until they lost the pastor to a better town. Years later, a colleague invited us to an Evangelical Church, which we also loved, until the hour-long drive started to wear on us.

When my church-hopping escapades ended up at the Baptist Church, my enthusiasm to study the bible really took off. For I had never heard of the rapture before, in all of my almost 40 years in a handful of churches, some of which, I also taught Sunday School. I was also looking for where the bible says that I would go to hell if I were not baptized Baptist. What I found, was a little more shocking. And I was intrigued.

Before I get into all that, I just want to say – my goal is to share what I have been studying about the bible, nothing more. I do not care to try to convince anyone of anything. I would simply like to share some things I have discovered, in case others are searching like I was and struggling with a faith not making much sense. And if what I have to share, happens to add to your already sense-filled faith, well then that would be fine. The thing is, the bible was not written to not make sense. Man has made this so through the many translations. This will be in an upcoming post.

As far as my faith, it is overflowing. Because of this, I feel I can “fit in” just about anywhere, even when I don’t. As far as what to call me, should you have a need to label it, we’ll go with Cathodist. Predominantly Catholic and then Methodist. And because Cathodist sounds better than Metholic.

The Revival in Waurika

The Revival in Waurika

As I am not a huge fan of organized religion, my immediate reaction this morning upon hearing of the “Bible Quest Worship & Drama” schedule for the week at my parent’s church was, I hope my parents won’t want to come to this every night. Church every night, oh, that just seemed like a lot.

Ten minutes into the service, my thoughts changed to, I hope my parents want to come to this every night! It was awesome! One of their brochures says it best – You’ve never seen anything like The Master’s Storyteller. His name is Wesley Putnam, of Wesley Putnam Ministries.

Tonight, Elijah came to life as a New York Bronx cop. Tomorrow night we get to see Gideon as a Yiddish version of Barney Fife. The music was also amazing. A little mini-revival, is what I would describe it as, although I have never been to a revival before. I just know that it is absolutely entertaining and soul shifting – girls and boys young and old alike laughed until they cried and then tried not to cry when their heart started to stir. I saw it. I felt it. Powerful stuff, and I am grateful that I get to be a part of it at the First United Methodist Church Waurika, where I have been a visitor ever since I was born. I used to be visiting my grandparents, now it’s my parents.

On the way back to their house in Hastings, I took pictures of the sunset. Not bad, considering it is through the window.

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If you ever have a chance to see Wesley Putnam, The Master’s Storyteller, I highly recommend that you do. Until then, you can find him at wesleyputnam.org. (And yes, we plan on going every night. I am so excited!)

Hola from Oklahoma!

Hola from Oklahoma!

Hola, Hello, Hi, from Oklahoma where the air is dry, and sixty-five degrees and sunny seems like the perfect day. That’s how it was the day after I arrived. On Wednesday, however, when I flew in, it was in the 30’s, and I sure was thankful that I opted on bringing along the extra layer of warmth even though it meant carrying it from Florida, where it was in the 70’s at 5:30 a.m. when I left. Because, if you know me, you know there was no room in my carry-on for a jacket.

And yes, I was glad to have it, along with my hooded layer and my gloves while waiting for my parents to pick me up at 9:45 a.m., which was a little eerie. Never have I seen no one in an airport baggage claim pick-up area. There were three cars at the curb, but no people. Seriously, I was the only person around, at all. I found that so completely odd and I took a picture. Three, actually, looking one way, straight ahead, and then the other way.

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Maybe it happens all the time, I don’t know. I am surprised though.

So my parents picked me up and we went to the buffalo ranch and spent the night, where I have no cell phone service. Therefore, Dave could not get a hold of me. The last he knew when he had talked to me, I was standing on the curb at baggage claim in the Oklahoma City airport where I had an eerie feeling because there was no one else in sight.

Was everything okay? Was something going on? Was I okay? Well thank goodness Dave didn’t torture himself wondering any of this. No, that is not Dave at all. He was more concerned that I knew he did in fact call. And I am so glad I have grown-up.

The sunrise in Hinton is something I love seeing every time we stay there.

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Here, you can see the buffalo.

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The next day we drove to my parents home and when we pulled up, my dad said, eyeing his garden, “Alright, we can pick asparagus for dinner!” I walked out there, looked, and said, “Where?”

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He showed me and I said, “Oh wow!”

I picked enough for us to have for dinner, with some left over. I also left some in the garden to pick the next day. I have never had such fresh asparagus in my life. Man, it was excellent.

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The Garden Gym

My dad and I shared some laughs today when I started to ask what a hoe looked like. “Here it is,” I hollered upon seeing it, just as the image of what I was looking for came to me. I hurried over to the garden where he was waiting to show me where to plant potatoes.

“No problem,” I assured him, “I can hoe a row for poe-tay-toe!”

In fifteen minutes, I was feeling muscles in my back that I didn’t even know I had. Thank God they are not the same ones required to do the “asparagus cutting squats.” Between the two, I should be getting tone while growing good food – talk about a win/win.

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The row of potatoes I planted

And speaking of winners, it was another hit last night as The Master Storyteller played Gideon. Tonight I am looking forward to the story of Jonah and the whale. I’ll be there at 6 p.m.! (Spoiler alert – he already said he is not playing the whale.)

Miss Kitty needs a long branch

It takes a long branch for Miss Kitty when it comes to helping another, which I believe is mostly due to fear. She can appear to be mean, with her, I’ll get you before you get me, attitude, although I know she is not really mean. She is just scared.

Miss Kitty is different and she knows it. Compared to the other cats around here, she has short legs and a short tail.

I bet it does hinder her ability to win a cat fight, and therefore, she makes sure the other cats are afraid to get in a fight with her. She does a good job at it, too.

Every cat here shrinks from Miss Kitty. They all seem to know and respect that she is the boss.

So while Miss Kitty is willing to help other less fortunate felines, it is best for that olive branch to be a long one.

Meet Miss Kitty

Miss Kitty is absolutely adorable, until she’s not, which is actually much of the time. But even then, she’s still pretty darn cute.

Miss Kitty prefers to be her cutest in private. Sometimes I am able to spy on her moments of solitude,

but most of the time I get busted watching her and she wants to hide.

“I understand,” I tell her, “I used to do that, too. But Miss Kitty, it’s ME, no need to feel self-conscious.” Sometimes she agrees and sometimes she fails to see my point. I figure it depends on whether or not she has recently done something that she would rather me not know about. Like being a bully at the cat door, for instance.

Just like humans, she’s not so nice when she doesn’t feel good about herself.

When Miss Kitty found her way to us in 2013, we had two other cats who set out to prove seniority. Miss Kitty made it clear that while they may be higher in command, respect – she would still demand. Shortly thereafter, they warmed up to each other.

Miss Kitty and Indee finally got close after two years, and then Indee got cancer. We were all super sad, including Miss Kitty.

We decided on Indee’s final day and on July 2, 2015, I stood by him, and Dave stood by me, while the vet administered the shot sending him to kitty heaven. That was the last time Miss Kitty allowed herself to get close to another feline.

A broken heart could explain not wanting to get close again. Love heals a broken heart, however, so for all who have broken hearts, I wish for you, love.

Miss Kitty is coming around.

To read more about why she needs a long branch, click below on the next post, “Miss Kitty Needs a Long Branch.”

Let No One be Left Behind

Having passed people-pleasing on the rung below me, the rung on the ladder of life, I am now on a new rung. A new rung does present new challenges, however, I feel ready for this rung. For I saw this quality in myself some time ago and shared these thoughts with friends.

I shared with them how, ever since I was a little girl I wanted to save the world, yet my parents had to remind me twice a day to brush my teeth. I reminisced about friends who had “slipped into the trenches” and how, although my motive has been to help a friend out of the trench, after a while what I really found, was myself down in the trench with my friend. Not fully knowing how I wound up there or how to get out, one thing I did know – I could not just leave someone I care about, down in the trench.

And then, thank God, I had a great moment of growth.

Never before could I fathom the heartlessness required to be able to walk away from someone in the trench. Thank God I was wrong. For heartlessness is not what it takes for me to leave the trench. What I need is my own worthiness. This requires self-esteem.

Self-esteem used to seem so elusive to me and I could not figure out why. It just seemed that a girl like me ought to have good self-esteem. There seemed no reason not to, I mean. And then I learned that self-esteem is not too concerned with looks. Being tall and thin does not necessarily produce self-esteem. Nor does talent. A top-seeded tennis player in high school, I was, and self-esteem still eluded me. I just couldn’t figure out why a girl like me couldn’t seem to get it – good quality self-esteem. It bothered me, and as a result, I did some pretty stupid things.

Then one day I was discussing this topic with friends, and I heard something that would totally change my life. My friend Kerry said, “Someone once told me that self-esteem comes from doing esteemable things.” I was like, “What? Say that again?” Something clicked inside of me, and although it seemed way too simple, I knew it made sense. Something else inside of me wanted to argue it, though.

I do esteemable things, I thought, so that can’t be all there is to it, my brain said to my soul.

The thing is, my soul responded, I also have to stop doing non-esteemable things.

So yeah, there is more to it. I would have to stop rationalizing, justifying, minimizing and exaggerating, if I wanted good self-esteem. I would have to do the things I tell myself I am going to do, like eat better or exercise. I would have to stay out of situations and conversations that are none of my business. I would have to stop telling business that is not mine to tell. I would have to stop trying to change things I can not change.

I decided every single day to make it a priority to do esteemable things whenever possible and to stop doing non-esteemable things. I set my alarm to go off three times a day to remind me to examine the day thus far, correcting any non-esteemable acts I had committed. Most of the time, this meant calling my mentor to tell her about it. And in no time, for the first time in my life, I found good quality self-esteem.

Having self-esteem has changed my outlook on many things, including my relationships with other people. When I feel worthy of stepping out of the trench, then what my friend does or does not do, is really not a factor for what I do. But when I am harboring hate, guilt or some other negative emotion, then my soul knows I am not worthy of stepping up. When this happens, it is much easier for me to say, “I can’t just leave my friend here in the trench!”

Today I can see that stepping up a rung on the ladder of life is not the same as leaving a friend behind. A friend who feels left behind, simply may not be ready for such work. To this friend, I say, “Rest assured, my friend, I am not leaving you. It may seem dark and grey where you are, but it doesn’t have to be. When you are ready, holler, and I will be there to help you step up, out of the trench. And then you will see a sliver of sun, starting to shine on you.”