Woman's Last Nerve is Taxed

Blogger is getting on my one last nerve:

1. I can't comment on other blogger friends' posts. (What if they need me?)

2. I can't navigate a blog without being flipped here and then there and then out. (Ouch.)

3. I'm asked to sign in everytime I do any...thing. (Are they testing me?)


Have a great week!

A Measure of Faith

During a very dark time in my life, my sister gave me a necklace with a mustard seed enclosed in a clear sealed locket attached to a card that read, “…if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you.” (Matthew 17:20 NIV) You would think that I would have felt hugely responsible for doing something. Instead, I felt I free of my self-imposed restraints to make things happen; instead I could let God be God.

Do we worry too much about our “Faith” ability, our skills to make things happen? Jesus said we only need a measure of faith to make things happen, not mountains of faith but a small amount of faith to move mountains. We pray a heartfelt prayer (James 5:16) and use our genuine measure of faith and God releases his power over circumstance. Of course, he doesn’t need our help, but he desires our contribution. We don’t even have to worry about what happens next because God takes over.

Please continue to pray for and donate to relief efforts for Missouri and other tornado ravaged states.

Blessings,
JW

Scripture resource: http://www.biblegateway.com/

Joplin, Missouri

The storms were horrible in Southern Missouri last night. Please pray for the people in the Joplin area, their families and those who are trying to help. News update here.

The Here and Now

We don’t know what tomorrow brings. We do know, as Christians, what we need to do until we go to live with our Heavenly Father.

1. Spread the word of God!

Then Jesus came to them and said, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. Matthew 28:19-22 (NIV)

2. Love God, Love Each Other!

Jesus replied: “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.' This is the first and greatest commandment.  And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself. " Matthew 22:36-39 (NIV)

3. Trust in God’s Timing! He knows best.

As Jesus was sitting on the Mount of Olives, the disciples came to him privately. “Tell us,” they said, “when will this happen, and what will be the sign of your coming and of the end of the age?” Jesus answered: “Watch out that no one deceives you. For many will come in my name, claiming, ‘I am the Messiah,’ and will deceive many. You will hear of wars and rumors of wars, but see to it that you are not alarmed. Such things must happen, but the end is still to come. Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. There will be famines and earthquakes in various places. All these are the beginning of birth pains. Matthew 24: 3-8(NIV)

“But (emphasis mine) about that day or hour no one knows, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father." Matthew 24: 36 (NIV)




Source: Biblegateway.com

The Big Mac

A man from Wisconsin recently finished his 25,000^th (hee hee that sounds funny) Big Mac. Yep, he started in 1972 and ate two a day for most of those years. He’s supposedly healthy. Read more about it here.

This made me think of a Stephen King quote. “I am the literary equivalent of a Big Mac and Fries.”

Two thoughts: I’m hungry and I bet more people eat Big Macs than Caviar.




 

Resource: http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/authors

Dear Journal,

My granddaughter, born to be a star, had her dance recital Saturday night. I must say it didn’t last for hours and hours like my daughter's recitals use to. I mean let's be honest, what most of us want is to watch our own children be the one up to bat (or whatever it is) because they are the stars, not the other people’s children.

My granddaughter is very talented. She’s a bright and beautiful star.

My entire family is one shining star. That’s how I feel.

Anyway, Dear Journal, I was sound asleep when my cell phone rang at 1:46 a.m.Sunday morning.  I could hear it ringing from the other end of house. The ringtone was my daughter or so I thought. Panic filled my sleepy head as I rushed through the darkness to get to it. Somewhere around my dining room, I thought, what if it’s not MY phone and someone’s in my house. I realized in my hurry that I carried no weapon, no can of long range bug spray, no gun, no way to defend myself.

Journal, I looked down at my hands and thought, I need to use my claws. I then made my hand (right only) look like a claw. What? It truly seemed like a good idea at the time. It's all I had with me.

Luckily, I didn’t need to defend myself because it was my cell phone and it had stopped ringing. Through blurry vision, I verified it was my daughter’s number and immediately called her. But when she didn’t answer, I left a message for her to call back.

I had thoughts. Where could she be at 1:46 am on a Sunday morning? Why was she not at home? Was she in a car trunk somewhere trying to get help?

Then I called her home phone and she answered. I asked why she had called, was there something wrong?

She mumbled in sleepy talk that she was sorry. “My phone dialed you.”

Our call ended and I made a mental note to remember to ask her more tomorrow…or today.

I climbed back into bed wanting to sleep, but my mind was not giving up. Was she being held hostage and trying to tell me something in code?

I snuggled deeper under the covers and went over her words again. My…phone…dialed…you. Was it code? I couldn’t think. I needed to sleep. Hopefully, she would still be alive in morning and could tell me.

Journal, after church she held to her story, but added that when she got up at that hour (probably to remove her contacts) and plugged in her phone, she laid it down on the touch screen and it dialed... me.

Why me? Why not one of her many friends who might be awake at 1:46 a.m.

Children.

You gotta love ‘em. No really you do, it’s a law or something.

~ Yours, Journaling Woman

Talking to Hear Myself

(This post disappeared this week. I'm re-posting it.)

I got there late, but only 5 minutes or maybe 10. I said, “It’s not my fault, I got behind two school buses…two, and they were yellow and on the same street.” Then I said, “I figured you would have someone in the chair and I’d have extra time.”

She smiled a sweet smile and said, “Nope, no one before you. That’s ok. Two buses?”

I nodded then sat in my hair guru's chair and watched her put an unflattering black cape over me. I said, “You own a pink pistol and a rifle and ride a pink four-wheeler and all you can come up with is a black bib?” I kept talking to help her forget my lateness.

In the station next to me, a high school girl with curly hair had it cut short and straightened. A woman waited for her in a spare chair on the other side. My hair guru said to the girl, “That style makes you look older.”

“Good,” the girl said.

Sometimes you really want to be one of the girls. Sometimes a dye soaked brain shouldn’t speak. “It DOES make you look older,” I said. “Your mom will want to keep you locked in your bedroom.” I looked at the woman in waiting.

Like right before a tornado but before the hail—when everything goes quiet, it did.

Awkward.

Then my pink-gun totin’, size 0, hair guru whispered, “That’s not her mother, that’s her sister.”

I hear the girl laugh behind me from the shampoo chair. “She thinks you’re my mother.”

“I’m not your mother,” She says then mumbles something I can’t hear.

I’m sure she was offended and went straight to the mirror on the wall once she got home. “Who’s the fairest one of all,” I can just hear her say, “I’m not her mother.”

After that, when I finally stopped talking, I sat there thinking how it wasn't my first insult to someone else and that I've said worse things.

Moral: Your 2 cents offered can never be returned.

Jane

For some reason when I find out someone has died, I hold my breath for a moment. I'm not sure why. Maybe it's shock or grief or my way of honoring the wonder of life and death.

Even though I don't know you outside of cyberspace, my blogger friends, I care about you. How can I not care? Through your blog postings, I read about your successes, mishaps, frustrations, sometimes weariness, and often tidbits about life and family.

Today, I want to honor a fellow blogger.

Jane Kennedy Sutton, of Jane's Ride and author of The Ride, passed away May 6. I didn't know her in "real life" but I visited her blog and she mine. She always left wonderful comments and wrote informative posts. In March, she said she was taking a break so yesterday when I saw she had posted again, I felt glad and clicked over there. But, it wasn't Jane who posted, but her husband announcing her passing.

Just wanted you to know.

Just wanted to remind myself how precious life is and and fast it moves and how I need to relax and enjoy it.

~Teresa

Honoring Mother

"Honor your father and mother”—

which is the first commandment with a promise—

so that it may go well with you and that you may enjoy long life on the earth. Ephesians 6:2-3 NIV

Happy Mother's Day!

scripture source: Biblegateway.com

Monsters and...

Seven-year-old Granddaughters

“Grandma, what kinds of monsters live in your house?”

“I don’t have monsters in my house. I’ve lived here as old as your dad is and I’ve never seen a single monster. And, I've looked under every bed and in every closet," I said trying to cover all monster hideouts.

“I saw one.”

“Where?”

“In that one bedroom.” Her eyes narrowed. Her voice got lower. “I saw it out of the corner of my eye. I saw... its shadow.”

“Show me.” Goosebumps danced on my arms.

“It’s gone.”

Where does she get that imagination?

I wonder.

Have a great monster of a weekend.