Happy 50th & 1st Birthday!

I was running a fever of 102!

Last year, on this very day, I completed the final course of treatment for my cancer and rang the bell at the radiation department at MD Anderson. 

I had survived three months of Paclitaxel chemotherapy followed by three more months of Fluorouracil, Adriamycin, and Cyclophosphamide combination chemo, then surgery and 25 fractions of radiation therapy.

Ahhhh.  Back when I was tiny!

Today is one year later and I am turning 50. But it is also my 1st birthday - of one full year of living past cancer treatments. According to my oncologist I am on a five-year plan - if I can remain cancer free for four more years I'll be considered a survivor.

So not only is it my milestone birthday, the big 5-0, it is also my 1st birthday as I begin to start counting again. I had thought I would feel old when I reached a half-century of living but I actually feel younger than I have in years. Happy 1st birthday to me!

What a great birthday gift. Thank you, Jesus!

Me and my Hubby after my 'All's Good For Now' diagnosis at MD Anderson yesterday.

A New Year and Fresh Beginnings

Now is a time when people are making goals to better their life. Some want to lose weight by eating ‘healthier’, exercising or a combination of both. Others have written down specific goals to accomplish every month – cleaning out closets, organizing the garage, reading through the entire bible, etc.

My son has made columns on a large whiteboard with labels and specific goals he wants to accomplish as a composer this year. My daughter has several varied goals that she has worked hard on the last several weeks, compiling quite a list, one of which is to learn different computer codes so she can develop her own video games.

Me and my hubby, just before my diagnosis.

When I was younger I would make a list of goals as well. But every year I would inevitably fall short of achieving those goals and then I would feel miserable the rest of the year knowing I had failed.

In subsequent years I quit making ‘New Year’s’ resolutions. For one, I was tired of failing but I also developed a mindset that if anything needed to be done it was a bit ridiculous to wait until a certain time of year to do it. I believed if something was worth doing it was worth doing immediately. So I went with that for awhile.

Then a couple years ago I was tired of the same ol’ thing and decided that once again, I was going to set some goals, really shake things up and change a lot of things about me. I was going to lose weight, get a radical new hair style, start treating myself by pampering me in ways I never had before. It was going to be an 'all about me' year!

But I had forgotten one important thing that year - I never prayed and asked God what He wanted from me. I didn't check to see if my will was following His will. I just went with what I wanted without a single thought about what God might want for me and from me.

I had spent the last nearly 21 years raising kids and putting myself behind their needs so I thought is was my time. And it's not as if there was anything wrong with focusing on myself as my kids were pretty much grown and I could now afford to focus on me.

Me during treatment. I still have a few eyelashes left.

I started researching hairstyles and colors, joined Weight Watchers and started exercising regularly. I had even more plans for change and what I wanted to do that year, but it all came to a screeching halt in May. I was diagnosed with cancer.

The world tends to stop when you get devastating news. All the plans you had been making, all the projects you were working on, all the things you thought were important, fade into the background. You look at your kids and even though they were grown or almost grown, you realize there was so much more you wanted to teach them or share with them. You see your husband and the tense, worried look on his face and wish you could do something, anything, to erase it.

I started thinking about the things I wish I would have shared with people, things I wished I would have already written down, the photos I never took with my family at important milestones because I was never happy about the way I looked. I may now never get the chance to take those kind of photos.

Then I realized the goals I had set that year - losing weight, the ‘stuff’ I wanted to change or accomplish, the focus on me, all of that stuff was just that - ‘stuff.’ It was not what was really important. The important ‘goals’ were the people who were now facing the possibility that I might not be around much longer.  What was important was my testimony about what Jesus had done for me – that is where my focus should have been.

But God is loving and gracious and I can look back now and see that most of my goals for that year were actually fulfilled through my cancer treatment. It was ‘all about me’ as friends I hadn’t seen in ages were calling and coming by, bringing gifts and making sure I had what I needed. I didn’t do anything for six months as my husband and kids took care of the house and chores.

I was also taking much better care of myself to help protect me from the effects of chemo and I even lost weight and had a radical new hairstyle – all my goals at the beginning of the year! Isn’t God amazing?!

So this year I am praying to wake up every day and accomplish whatever it is God has for me to do that day. To enjoy life and ‘let go’ of that picture of me I have in my head of what I should look like or how things should be and just embrace life as it is right now. 

Me, Christmas 2013, with my overflowing stocking. God is good!

I will try to restrain myself when I should restrain, let go when I should let go, and ask God for wisdom to know the difference. Happy 2014, everybody!

Conventional Wisdom - Shmizdom

Painting by Bryan S. Welborn, 1995

Conventional wisdom. I hate those words. Maybe because they assume an equation that will equal a definitive sum. But there really are no guarantees in life.

For example, there is a Christian finance expert who purports that no one should ever buy a new car. Well, if no one ever bought a new car, then they would stop selling new cars and then they would all be used cars. Soon, we would be buying used-used cars and pretty soon be back to horse and buggy when all the cars end up in the junk yard.

Also, that point of view seems to say that only the ungodly can buy the new cars but Christians must drive the used cars. I think there’s something wrong with that, even though I’m not a ‘prosperity gospel’ type of person!

Conventional wisdom says - wait until you can afford kids to have them. If most of us took this advice we wouldn’t have kids until we were ready to retire! Besides, there is no guarantee that they won’t develop some kind of health problem that ends up costing you any chance at having a savings account, which is exactly what happened to us.

If you waited until you were ‘financially able’ to have kids, what happens when you have a heart attack or cancer diagnosis in your 40’s? They don’t take them back, I checked. Just kidding! I always told my kids that even if there was a mixup at the hospital and they tell me that you aren’t mine, it doesn’t matter – YOU are mine and always will be!

Now I’m not saying that anybody anytime should have a kid just because they want to. There does need to be some responsibility on the part of the parents. But it would take a lifetime to plan for every contingency so by the time you’re ready to live…it’s over!

Some sermon title artwork from Calvary. Bryan also edits the weekly television show and creates videos as needed.

Conventional wisdom also says that what you eat or how ‘healthy’ you are determines if you’ll have a heart attack or cancer. But this wisdom never seems to account for people who have never smoked developing lung cancer, or vegetarians who run 3 miles a day having a major heart attack. Or why children, who haven’t a lifetime of unhealthy eating behind them, will develop cancer or have other major medical issues?

Conventional wisdom – If you work hard and pay your dues, you will get what you have struggled so long for. My husband is a great artist and has a talent that should be raking in millions. But the so-called experts who have seen his portfolio only say ‘they see good art all day long.’ You can be a great artist and still just work for a non-profit. Not every great singer becomes a star, not every good drummer becomes a part of a well-known band.

Logo Designs from my husbands website, WelbornWorks.com

But with blessings from God, you can make a living doing what you were created to do. “There is nothing better for a man, than that he should eat and drink, and that he should make his soul enjoy good in his labour. This also I saw, that it was from the hand of God.”

“He hath made every thing beautiful in his time…”

Ecc. 2:24, 3:11

A Little About Me, Part 3

(For Part 1, click here. For Part 2, click here.)

I had made the deposit and first months rent on a place that I had hurriedly picked out to lease after learning my parents were moving back to Ohio. And although it was against their wishes, I spent the next couple of weeks trying to find someone to co-sign for the electricity so it could be turned on before my parents finished packing up and moving out of Southeast Texas. But no one was willing to help me.

The Church Youth Group I worked with Back in the Day

After vehicles breaking down, freezing rides back and forth to work and hurting my leg falling off the back of a pickup truck, I had thought I could rest for a couple days while I figured out my next move. But when I went to make a meal for my brother and I, we found nearly all the food had been packed up and taken to Ohio with my parents.

Stunned, and out of money, I asked my brother what he thought we should do. He said he could shoot a squirrel in the back yard and clean it, if I would cook it. I agreed and we had squirrel along with a little gravy I made with the rest of the flour and oil, along with the one can of greens left in the house.

Maybe my parents hadn’t realized how little food was in the house when they left for Ohio. Or maybe they thought I would get my deposit back and use that to buy food when we ran out. Whatever the reason, I think they were unprepared for how stubborn I could be.

When it came time to go to work again another cold front had come through the area. I called a friend who lived right behind Walmart and begged to stay with her for the night so I wouldn’t have to ride the motorcycle in the freezing weather so early the next morning. She was reluctant, maybe expecting that I might never move out.

But in the face of my pathetic begging and guaranteeing she wouldn’t have to feed me or keep me for more than one night, she relented. I was so relieved, but also, to tell the truth, a little put out that I had to beg so much for help. It really went against my nature.

That night my brother drove me to Beaumont. We had no more food left in the house and hadn’t eaten very much that weekend. I asked him if he would be okay and he said he would be fine, that he would go to a friends house and they would feed him. I was glad for him, but didn’t know what I would do, and actually, at that point I was so tired and depressed that I didn’t really care about eating or what would happen or pretty much anything.

The Youth Group at a camp in Colorado.

After he dropped me off I dejectedly climbed the stairs and trod reluctantly to my friends door, feeling like a beggar, unwanted and uncared for. Just tolerated for old times sake.

I knocked on the door, fully expecting to just go in and go straight to the guest room so I wouldn’t be a bother to her. However, she was the exact opposite of what I was expecting. She was warm and welcoming, talking and showing me around her apartment. I was so surprised that I couldn’t even talk at first, all I could do was nod as she showed me around. Here I had thought she didn’t even want me to come visit but she was acting like we were the old friends I had thought we were.

It was late, but she was fixing a spaghetti supper with homemade sauce for us to share. It smelled wonderful. I tried to act like everything was normal but I was having a hard time keeping back the tears. The thought that I was unwelcome must have all been in my head. I had a great fellowship and supper that night and went on the strength of that the next couple of days.

Not eating at work, I would grab a bite at home of whatever food my brother brought back after visiting with his friends. But by the third day I was so hungry that when I was sitting in the break room at Walmart, I asked one of my coworkers if she was going to eat her bread from her lunch. Surprised, she gave me the bread but then asked questions about what was going on with me and when I had last ate. Not wanting to be rude but also not wanting to tell her everything, I basically replied how I had car trouble and no money for food the last several days and just needed to make it to payday later that week.

Not thinking any more of it I went back to work but before I left for the day, my coworker came to me and pressed some money into my hand. She had talked to a few other employees and they had all contributed to give me cash to get through until payday, and they didn’t want me to pay it back. I was surprised and humbled. What a great group of people I worked with! 

My Blue Belt Rank

God had provided, even without me asking, but what little faith I still had! When my parents returned they steadfastly refused to help me and in two days time we were to be out of the house.

I went to the bathroom, closed the door and sobbed. Tomorrow I would have to get the money back from the landlord and move to Ohio with my family, all because I couldn’t find a co-signer for the electricity! I couldn’t believe something so small could keep me from what I so desperately needed.

In the midst of my crying I asked God for help. What could I do now? I couldn’t handle this, wasn’t there anybody who would help me? Suddenly, this name popped into my head. It was the name of someone who wasn’t even a Christian. I knew to him to be an agnostic, at best. It was the name of my former karate instructor.

I was so surprised I quit crying. ‘I couldn’t ask him, he wasn’t even a Christian’, I thought to myself. ‘Could I?’ But the name came again and immediately I felt this peace. Yes, I could ask him.

So the next day, I asked him and he immediately said yes, he would be happy to help me. Imagine that, someone who wasn’t even a Christian was more willing to help me than anyone in the church or even my parents, who all professed to be Christians, were willing to help me.

I should have realized at the time how God had led me to the one person who would help. But the devil never wastes an opportunity and made sure I dwelt on the fact that it took an agnostic to be willing to help me when all the so-called Christians said it was their duty not to help me. The devil is deceitful and will use any and all means to cause strife among God’s people. It took years for me to resolve this seeming conflict of supposed ‘good’ people not helping but a ‘bad’ person who did help.*

Very quickly, the papers at Gulf States were signed and the electricity was turned on in the little trailer. On the same day that my parents and the rest of the family left for Ohio, I moved out into my first place alone. They warned me that I wouldn’t make it, they told me there would be no one to call if anything happened. But they graciously left me the car to use thinking that it wouldn’t be long before I changed my mind and came running back home.

Little did they know I didn’t think that far ahead. I never once considered that no one would be around if the car broke down or what I would do if someone tried to break into my house. These thoughts never crossed my mind, which is very surprising considering the worry wart I turned out to be later in life.

The car my parents left me to use when they moved to Ohio. They later gave it to me.

At the time all I could think of was how happy I was. I did it, I moved out! I finally could come and go as I please, dress as I please, clean up after only myself and eat whatever I could afford. I had freedom for the first time in my life - and I never looked back.

*2 Corinthians 10:5

A Little About Me, Part 2

(If you missed Part 1, click here.)

My parents barely stopped their packing to glance at me. “You’re not moving out.” Dad said, with a tone of voice that signaled that was the end of it. I had quietly told them that I was not moving back to Ohio with the family. I was staying in Texas, on my own, and I could do that because I was working three jobs now.

I did not want to move so far away and I didn’t want to be jerked around anymore, moving from house to house at their whim. Since we moved to Texas, we had lived in Port Arthur, Port Neches, Beaumont, four different locations in Vidor, Silsbee, then back to Vidor. I couldn’t take it anymore.

One of our Vidor houses

I had spent months planning to move out on my own anyway. If I'd had more time to save money it would have been fine. But my parents had abruptly decided to go back to Ohio and I was in a quandary.

There had also been major changes in the job department for me. I had quit working at the dental office and started working at Walmart.  I also held down two part-time jobs. But even though I had found a tiny travel trailer in an old trailer park that I could afford, the landlord said if I didn’t get the electricity turned on in two weeks he would rent it to someone else.

Desperate to find some way to stay in Texas, I kept talking to my parents, raising my voice in desperation. I still held out hope that they would see the logic of what I was saying.  I wasn’t even asking them for money, all they had to do was sign a paper!

The conversation escalated into an argument. They told me I did not have any need to move out on my own, I could stay at home until I got married. I didn’t see how that was possible since we barely stayed in one place long enough for me to get a boyfriend!

Finally, my Dad walked out of the conversation. Then my Mom said they would leave tomorrow for Ohio to find a place to live. They would come back in two weeks. So I could give two weeks notice for my jobs.

I have my own daughter now so maybe I can understand how they may not have wanted me to be 1200 miles away from any family. Somehow, I knew I couldn't move back to Ohio. It’s strange, but it was like this giant invisible hand was blocking the way north. I now know it was God. (I wasn't as close to Him as I should have been then.) But at the time, I didn’t understand it.

Me being silly outside our house in Beaumont

After the argument, I went to my room, shut the door rather forcefully and cried.  Then I started praying, asking God what I should do. The thought came into my head to ask people at my church for help. Yes, that was it! I started making a list of names of people to call. I would tell them that I didn’t need any money, only a co-signer.

Buoyed by hope, the future suddenly looked bright again. I decided to wait until my parents had left for Ohio the next day before making the calls to the church deacons. No need for them to know what I was planning.

But it was all wishful thinking. None of the deacons would help me. The pastor wouldn’t help either. They all quoted scripture and told me how it would be wrong for them to help me, even just to co-sign. They used verses like Proverbs 11:15, and 22:26.*

Maybe they believed they were right to do so. But I wasn't a stranger.  I had gone to that church for years, even attending after my family moved to Silsbee, driving for miles after working several jobs to attend church there, but no one would help me. I had even been active in the youth ministry for several years! I did find one couple who were willing to help, but they had such bad credit Gulf States wouldn’t accept their signatures.

The two weeks were almost up. Once again, I felt despair come upon me. To make matters worse, the car I was driving broke down and a rare Southeast Texas cold front had arrived. The only transportation was my Dad’s motorcycle. And I had to get to work.

Another house in Vidor. And my long hair.

One of my brothers had stayed behind with me, so he volunteered to take me to work on the bike. I didn’t usually like to ride the motorcycles with my wild driving brothers and it was freezing outside, but I had to get to work early in the morning, so I agreed.

My brother had the philosophy that driving faster meant that we would only be cold for a shorter amount of time. It sounded good, in theory. However, when we arrived to my job I could barely move, I was so cold! I don’t know how he kept control of the motorcycle.

Later that day when he picked me up from work and we were headed home, the motorcycle broke down. And we were nowhere near home. I stayed with the bike while my brother went to make a phone call for help. (No cell phones back then.)

Could life get any worse?! Don’t ever ask that. It can.

When the friend came to help us, we had to load up the very heavy bike onto the back of his pickup…by lifting it. Did I mention at this time I weighed 108 lbs? What an effort it took for the three of us to get that motorbike up there!

I did my best to help and ended up with one foot slipping off the tailgate and my leg falling all the way to the ground, scraping the side of it as I fell. My other leg, however, stayed up on the tailgate causing me to do a stretch I never would have thought possible.

Me being silly with one of my brothers at yet a different house in Vidor.

Thankfully, I had the next couple days off work. My brother was working on the bike, borrowing money from his friends to fix it. The weather was warming up again. Then, getting hungry, I opened the cupboard but didn’t see any food. I opened another one. Empty. What?! I searched the kitchen thoroughly, finding maybe one can of spinach, some flour and oil. My parents had packed up most of the food and taken it with them.

Stay tuned for Part 3.
(Note: I didn't mean to make this so long, but it's turning into at least a three parter! I'll try to wrap it up soon, I promise!)

* Prov. 11:15 "He who is surety for a stranger will suffer, But one who hates being surety is secure." NKJV
Prov. 22:26 "Do not be one of those who shakes hands in a pledge, One of those who is surety for debts" NKJV

A Little About Me

I have always been a very private person. You may doubt that considering how much I share on this blog, but it’s true.  However, through a series of *messages about the prophet Jonah, I feel God wants me to open up more about myself. So today, I am giving you a little glimpse into my life, 27 years ago, about a year before I met my husband.

Me, in the mid to late '80's.

I was 22 years old and still living at home, but longing to be out on my own, making my own decisions and going to the church of my choice. I love my original family, but we never saw eye to eye on church, the bible, clothes to wear, pretty much everything.

At the time I was working full-time for a dentist, but I never had any money. I wasn’t spending it on myself (except for clothes I had to have for work) nor was I paying off a car. In fact, I didn’t have a car, I was using my parents vehicle.

The reason I didn’t have any money was that my Mother required I turn over my paycheck every payday. She said it cost that much to feed me every week. I had never grocery shopped, so I didn’t know how much in groceries I ate up and felt guilty I was such a drain on their finances. So every payday I dutifully signed over my check and got money back to pay for gas to go back and forth to work. (Later, when I finally moved out, boy was I upset at how little it cost to feed one person every week! All those years I felt guilty for nothing!)

One day, a friend of mine, who was a couple of years older, told me she was moving out from her original family because she couldn’t take it anymore – she had to have her independence. That gave me an epiphany – I could move out, too! (Neither of us had boyfriends at the moment so marriage was not on the horizon, nor did it look like it would be for quite some time. Back in those days, that was about the only reason a woman would move out of her parents home. Rarely did they ever live on their own. It wasn’t considered ‘safe’ or something a modest woman would do. At least in my family.)

I started getting excited about having freedom for the first time in my life. I knew that that is what I had to do as well, to save my sanity. But, wait, I didn’t have money saved up like she did. My mom took my entire paycheck every payday. What could I do?

Talking to my Mom or Dad about moving out was out of the question. They made no bones about it that a woman could not live on her own. Also, it was clear that I owed them my paycheck because of how much I cost. There would be no negotiating about me keeping money back for my own future.

After thinking it over, I decided that I would have to start squirreling away money. And the way I decided to do that was to deposit part of my check in a savings account first, then bring the rest home and lie about how much I made that pay period. Yep, that’s right. I lied. I made up some excuse and didn’t feel bad about it at all. I was just nervous about getting caught.

At the next payday, when Mom questioned why I had cash and didn’t have the paycheck, I told her I decided to cash it first then bring it home and gave whatever excuse I had come up with about why I had less money. I remember thinking she’s going to be really mad and demand I bring the paycheck to her first. I held my breath as she pondered what I said, but she just took the money and walked away. Wow, she believed it!

For the next several months I squirreled away as much as I could without her getting suspicious that I was withholding money. (She may have known, looking back on it now. But what could she do? Legally, I was entitled to all my money. If only I had realized that then!)

Me, again!

I was still a long way away from having enough for a deposit, plus the 1^st month’s rent and electricity deposit...when the unthinkable happened. My parents had decided they were moving back to Ohio. And they were taking the whole family with them.

I was devastated. I had been uprooted from everything and everyone I had ever known seven years earlier to come across country to live in Texas. A place where everyone had a funny accent, ate strange food, called soda pop ‘coke’ and thought 'I' talked funny. But Texas had grown on me (it does that, doesn’t it?) It was now more my home than where I had grown up and the thought of moving away from everything I knew and loved, again, filled me with dread.

My family started packing as I frantically pondered what to do. I calculated what I had in savings and decided my next paycheck was all mine – damn the consequences! They were moving away and I was staying here. I needed that money myself, now.

I had enough saved for rent and I didn’t care about food, so that left only electricity. Gulf States (as Entergy was known then) had said if I could get a co-signer then I wouldn’t need a deposit. Maybe my parents might cosign if they saw how determined I was to stay? I was getting older and surely they were tired of taking care of me. It was time to tell them about my plans to move out.

While they were packing, I nervously entered the room. How would they react? Would they be mad when they found out I had money that I didn’t turn over? Would they be glad to finally be rid of me? Might they even be supportive and understanding of my need to stay in Texas?

Stay tuned for Part 2.

*Harvest Ministries - Jonah and the Whale Series

Whiney to Focused, Part 2

I’ve gotten some interesting responses to my previous blog ‘Whiney to Focused’ and it has only been online for six hours! So I thought I should give some additional info about that particular blog.

The ‘still small voice’ I talked about actually happened two months ago. And coincidentally enough, if you’ll look to the right column and notice my postings that are listed by month, you’ll see that is about the last time I posted on this blog.

Yes, God spoke to me and I knew it was from Him. But I didn’t want to write about it as it was intensely personal and very revealing of my own selfish ways. Yes, I know, you are aghast that I have them and frankly, so am I.

Unfortunately, like Jonah who ran the opposite direction when God talked to him, I stayed silent when God talked to me. But as God didn’t leave Jonah alone and find someone else to do the job, He didn’t leave me alone either. So this morning I knew I had to write and tell the WHOLE WORLD how instead of being grateful to still be alive to take another pill, I was whining and complaining about my life and how it is not what I wanted.

I, unlike the majority of Christians, find it very difficult living a Christian life. I actually get angry when someone is rude to me and have to bite my tongue to not reply in kind. And, instead of constantly having the peace of God in every situation I sometimes will get so frustrated that I actually have to take a walk to keep from hitting something or someone.

Yes, you read that right, instead of praying immediately I take a walk. What kind of Christian does that?! Never knew that about me, did you? Some of you don’t know how close you were to getting punched in the nose! Just kidding. Sorta.

I struggle frequently to keep from getting the ‘why me’s.’  And I’ll work on that.  I know I’m not the only one who has ever gotten cancer. And if I die from it I know I will not be the only one that has ever died from cancer. I lost a beloved grandmother to it and have read several stories in the news and on Facebook recently of much younger people, including precious children, who had their whole lives ahead of them, that have died from it.

I’d like to say that I will never complain about my life again because at least I am still here, but as I’ve already confessed, I’m not in that majority of Christians yet. But as I stated earlier, I’m working on it - because God won’t let me go the opposite direction too long. Oh, what a loving Father who won’t let me get that far from Him!

Whiney to Focused

I’m a whiney. Not wine-o, but whiney.
 

Just like a kid, I pout when I don’t get what I want. I whine when I have to go to the doctor, AGAIN. I grumble as I pick up another prescription and fuss when I have to interrupt my schedule to take it on time.

It’s not easy for me to admit. I’d like everyone to think of me as this ‘model’ Christian who handles the problems life throws at her with grace and acceptance. I want people to see such a stalwart faith in Christ that they start to dance and praise the name of Jesus.

But instead, I’m a person who gets jealous when I read Facebook posts and see people traveling, getting massages, meeting up for lunch with their girlfriends, or moving into a new home, while I sit doing a lymphatic massage and swallowing my meds. One day, I just sat and had a pity party.

‘How unfair!’ I bellyached to myself. ‘I’m a good person, I’m still with my first husband, I have been faithful, I stayed the course, yet I’m the one who’s stuck at home taking prescriptions and ordering more for my kids. Where’s my blessings? When am I going to get to do something? Why can’t I have a second car, a new home, a vacation?”

As I sat there grumbling inwardly, suddenly, this still small voice came and said something that made me hush instantly and sit up. The voice said:

“Okay, you can have everything you want and then leave it all here when you go, or you can send it on ahead and have it for all of eternity.”

I’m telling you, I got chills when I heard it. I was excited and scared at the same time. Wow, God just talked to me!

And what a truth it was! Here I was pining for things that were temporary gratifications instead of focusing on what really matters – what will last for eternity. Too often I think life is about what I have or don’t have but it’s really about what I’m focused on. If I’m focused on me, I will never have enough. But if I’m focused on God, it will last an eternity.

“Looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith; who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God.” Hebrews 12:2

Fresh, Homemade Apple Pie!

I'm a baker - I love to bake. And I haven't been able to for over a year since my cancer treatments and recovery have prevented me from doing so. But the past couple of weeks I have had a surge of energy so in honor of the July 4th holiday I took the time to make apple pie from scratch. I thought I'd share it with you.

 First, enough dough for a two-crust pie. I mixed the flour and salt and just added in the butter. 

This is my first year of using butter instead of shortening. We'll see how it turns out.

 Now adding and mixing 4-5 tablespoons of cold water.

 Rolling out the dough between two sheets of waxed paper with a little bit of flour to help it not stick.

Lifting off the wax paper on one side. I then lay it back down and carefully flip it to the other side
and do the same. This way, when I'm ready to put it in the pie pan, it doesn't stick to the dough 

when I'm trying to lift it off after centering it on the pan. 

 Voila! The finished crust! Looks good, doesn't it? Curiously enough, using the butter (and softening it in the microwave first) doesn't seem to have affected how the dough likes to stick to the wax paper. In fact, it was easier this year than any other time I have made pie dough. We'll just have to wait to see how it tastes and flakes after the pie is finished.

 

The apples and lemons, ready to go.

 Not bad at keeping a long strand of peel going! 

I remember as a child my siblings and I would watch our mother peeling potatoes. 

We were fascinated at how long a peel she would make. But after a few times of us going "Awwww!" 

when the peel would drop before it got very long she'd shoo us out of the kitchen. I can't figure out why. ;)

 All the apples are finally ready to slice!

 Going good!

 Adding the lemon juice.

 Now mixing flour, sugar and cinnamon for the filling. Mixing the flour completely with the 

cinnamon and sugar helps to keep the flour from forming lumps.

 I mix in the flour, cinnamon and sugar with the apple slices until the moisture starts showing on the apples.

 Oops! I forgot to get a shot of putting the top on the apple pie! Oh, well. 

Here I am brushing the top with milk. But before that I put little dollops of butter all 

over the top of the apples.

 

Now sprinkling with sugar.

And here's the finished product! I'll let you know how the butter crust tastes!

Thank you, Lord, for the strength and energy to do something I really love.

Emotions

I’m a cry baby. Forget crying when you’re sad or happy (I cry at both,) I also cry when I’m angry, frustrated, tired, or confused. I cry at sad songs, or even just melancholy ones. I’ll cry at the movie theater, in a restaurant, in a hotel lobby, or just driving to church with a face full of make-up! I’m a crier!

I’ve always admired those women you see in movies or on TV who never let their emotions show. I wish I could be as icy as they are. Sometimes I’ve wished that I didn’t have any emotions so when something upsets me I won’t start crying about it in a public place! Or when someone is rude to me I can just stare right back at them until THEY look away.

Instead, I act like a little girl with my lower lip trembling and turn away so they won’t see the tears come into my eyes. Oh, if I could just find some way to control my emotions!

A few years ago I was helping at our church’s VBS. It’s a huge affair and can get stressful (another trigger for my waterworks!) One of the leaders came to me with a conflict about something that I can’t even remember now, but I do recall tears welling up in my eyes as she talked to me. I could see her surprise at my tears and she said, “I bet you’re one of those people who have all the spices in their cabinets all organized and everything in its place.” Surprised, I replied, “I wish!” and laughed. Then I realized she was trying to figure out my personality and why I was crying – and I thought ‘Good luck with that, I can’t even figure it out!’

But something occurred to me this morning - as little as it takes to make me cry is about the same amount it takes to make me happy. Something as simple as standing outside for a moment and watching the birds hop around, looking for bugs, taking a bath, squabbling with each other, I love it.

Even something as simple as helping someone choose the right coffee maker in a chance meeting at a store can make me happy. That happened yesterday and I’m still smiling about it today. Maybe because this person I helped is someone I have tried for years to be close to at my church, to no avail. It’s the same person who saw me cry at VBS years ago – a person whose respect I feel I’ve never had.

This lady and I attended the same Sunday School class for years, but I was always held at arms length. One time, she even was short tempered with me in front of the other ladies at a class social. I was humiliated. But still, I went to the same class, like a lost little puppy trying to get approval.

It took years, but I finally quit the class and gave up on ever being close to her, or to just about anyone in that class. I felt better. Well, I sorta felt better. Kinda like a ‘when you give up all hope you feel better’ thingy. At least I wasn’t trying so hard anymore!

So it was a surprise yesterday when this lady came up to my husband and I at the store and asked for our opinion on a coffee maker. And even more surprising - I wasn’t nervous around her.  Maybe it was because I had given up on a friendship or approval, or perhaps my battle with cancer this past year has changed me. Whatever it was, I was able to converse articulately with this person and help her make a decision.

I gave my opinion on the coffee makers as I had researched them just a few months before - when I had to stay in Houston for five weeks during my radiation therapy. At the time I had thought that if this might be my last days on earth I might as well splurge for a nice coffee maker!

Anyway, this lady seemed surprised and impressed with how much I knew about the subject. I had always felt I was under-estimated in her opinion. But, like most people, she probably never thought about me at all. I dwell way too much on what I think other people are thinking of me. At almost 50 years of age this really shouldn’t bother me anymore!

But as I reflected this morning on the chance encounter yesterday and how pleasant it was, it made me smile. It was then that I realized how something so small could make me happy. That in turn made me think maybe it isn’t such a bad thing to be crybaby. Especially if all it takes to make me smile again is something as simple as a few minutes spent helping someone choose a coffee maker.