tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-59568907248305558982024-03-13T18:00:09.828-05:00Just For TodayRandom thoughts about life's issuesGingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04196279667342161503noreply@blogger.comBlogger76125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5956890724830555898.post-62627867650799003682021-10-03T11:31:00.000-05:002021-10-03T11:31:03.475-05:00Beacon of Hope<p><span style="font-size: 14pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">Recently
I heard an inspirational speech, given by a high school senior, entitled, “The
U.S. Constitution – A Beacon of Hope”. In summary, the U.S. Constitution,
including the Bill of Rights (First 10 Amendments) was crafted by our founding
fathers to insure that every citizen was accorded the freedom and opportunity
to obtain personal fulfillment – to be all he could be – pursuit of happiness.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>As
the years went by, and society changed, so the Constitution had to be changed
(amended). When we decided slavery was wrong (on so many levels), we changed
our Constitution by abolishing slavery (13<sup>th</sup> Amendment). As a
follow-up, the 14<sup>th</sup> Amendment granted citizenship to the former
slaves, a Beacon of Hope for almost 4 million people. The 19<sup>th</sup>
Amendment gave millions of women the right to vote. Another Beacon of Hope for
half the population,<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Since
1776, the US flag had been considered a Beacon of Hope, and it was illegal to
treat it with any manner of disrespect. But in 1989, the Supreme Court ruled that
desecration of the flag by burning, trampling, ripping, spitting, or any other
act of disrespect, is “Freedom of Speech”, guaranteed in the very first
Amendment. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Again, a Beacon of Hope for
those people who wish to express their personal viewpoints.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>In
the early 1700s, John and Charles Wesley were responsible for the formation of
Methodism. The FIRST disagreement they had with the Church of England, and the
reason they originally separated was the church’s belief that “God has
determined from eternity whom He will save and whom He will damn”
(predestination). Wesley regarded this to be erroneous doctrine, and insisted
that the love of God was universal. UNIVERSAL. That seems simple – all
inclusive, but alas, the history of the church and its doctrine have been rife
with arguments AGAINST God’s Universal Law.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>As
with the U.S. Constitution, the Christian doctrine should have changed to be a
Beacon of Hope to people worldwide. We should have welcomed Native Americans,
African Americans, Africans in Africa, Eskimos, Chinese, Russians into the
Church because God’s love is universal.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>We
should have agreed that God’s universal love includes women, children, all
races, all economic situations, pedophiles, murderers, spouse abusers, child
abusers, LGBTQ etc. people – ALL people. It took decades and almost 2 centuries
for us to decide women are people too, deserving of voting.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">We should have
remembered that Jesus said the most important Commandments are Love God and
Love Your Neighbor. There is NOTHING Jesus said that excludes ANYONE from being
your neighbor. You are to love UNIVERSALLY.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jesus
did NOT say you have to LIKE or AGREE with or CONDONE your neighbor’s behavior.
There are practices and customs by people around the world <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>that the discipline does not address, such as
polygamy and cannibalism. We seldom see those practices in the U.S., and Jesus
did not say you have to participate in any of these. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It is interesting that the religious texts of the world’s
four major religions (Christianity, Judaism, Hindu, Islam) <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>ALL require one loves his neighbor. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p> <span> </span><span> </span><span> </span></o:p></span><span style="font-size: 14pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">Are some people/peoples
hard to love? Absolutely YES.</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"> </span><span style="font-size: 14pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">Is it
easier to leave them to God to love, while we sit in our cozy living rooms and
hate them? Absolutely YES. </span><span style="font-size: 14pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"> </span><span style="font-size: 14pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">Does loving
them even mean we have to welcome them into our homes? Absolutely NO. </span><span style="font-size: 14pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"> </span><span style="font-size: 14pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">Does loving them mean we condone their actions
or beliefs? Absolutely NO. </span><span style="font-size: 14pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"> </span><span style="font-size: 14pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">Does loving
them mean we have to agree with them? Absolutely NO. Does loving them mean we
even have to LIKE them? Absolutely NO.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">So what does loving
them mean? I think it means many versions of “Love the sinner. Hate the sin,”
or as Jesus said, “Love your enemies.” Let that sink in a minute. I mean REALLY
SINK IN.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">I hear hate speech
every day from just about everywhere except in the shower. Friends, relatives,
TV, radio, podcasts, billboards, pamphlets, books, social media… and almost
every single word is hate of another person: Joe Biden, Donald Trump, Nancy
Pelosi, Robert E. Lee, Rush Limbaugh, and the list goes on ad nauseum. NEVER do
I hear something like, “Nancy Pelosi has very different ideas from mine. I will
pray for God to give her wisdom and guidance.” Or “Rush Limbaugh is very
outspoken, but his ideas and philosophy are directly opposite mine. I will pray
for God to give him wisdom and tolerance.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Yes. The Constitution shines its Beacon of Light upon you and your freedom of speech.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">But I challenge you to love
your neighbor, and if you MUST spout hatred against another, can you either do
it quietly, or spew with vengeance against the ideas or doctrines, rather than
the person. Can you be a “Beacon of Hope” to your neighbors?<o:p></o:p></span></p>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04196279667342161503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5956890724830555898.post-73808702026292284632021-09-19T16:24:00.003-05:002021-09-19T16:24:47.513-05:00Words<p><span style="font-size: 14pt;">Words
are powerful. Our words can incite hate and rebellion, or invite peace and
love, and everything in between.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">I
hear a lot of discussion about the First Amendment “Right to free Speech” from
all sides of the political spectrum. But it seems like almost everyone wants to
utter words that incite hate, rather than words that invite love. I hear a lot from
people who hate people they don’t know, but not much about people they love.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Social
media has inflated this problem. I read with sadness the venom spewed by
political zealots, and it seems like almost everyone has become a political
zealot. What I have NOT seen is anyone at ALL who says, “Oh, You are right! You
have changed my (political) mind.” </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Words of antagonism and hostility can only
increase the great divide that already separates us. These words are great
bullets, that invite retaliation of greater bullets from the “enemy”. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">I’m
getting older, and gone are the days of my youth, when I could sit with someone
from another political party and have a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">discussion.</i>
I miss that. A LOT. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Hate
speech can only harm. It cannot heal. It incites your political side to shouts of
agreement, but never, NEVER changes the minds of your political opponents.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">So
I love prayers. Ministers and chaplains always put away their political biases
and pray for “our leaders”, whether they agree with their political views or
not. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">And
I love my veteran brothers and sisters. We speak powerful words too, but mostly
uplifting words of encouragement, love, empathy and peace. We have so much that
unites us that we don’t have much time at all for whatever divides us. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">We are family. <o:p></o:p></span></p>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04196279667342161503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5956890724830555898.post-28107252712919768642021-09-09T21:14:00.003-05:002021-09-09T21:19:11.954-05:00Lest We Forget<p> <span style="font-size: 14pt;">Few
events in our history have so affected us that we remember them and relive them
our entire lives.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">None
of us were around on April 19, 1775, but I can imagine that a whole generation
asked each other, “Where were you when Major Buttrick shouted, “For God’s sake!
FIRE!” and that shot was heard around the world, ultimately changing the course
of history forever.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">My
mamma and daddy could tell me exactly where they were on December 7, 1941, a
“date that does live in infamy”.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Some
of us still ask, “Where were you when President Kennedy was assassinated?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">I
was a teenager, it was Fall of my senior year, and I was in art class at
Woodlawn High School.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">On
June 11, 1963, Governor George Wallace had stood on the steps of Foster
Auditorium at the University of Alabama and declared, “Segregation now.
Segregation forever.” It would come to be known as the “Stand in the
Schoolhouse door”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That footage became so
well-known made it into the movie Forest Gump.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">In
Birmingham, we had survived the “Long Hot Summer of ‘63”, with firehoses and
police dogs versus peaceful demonstrators on the streets of downtown. A time
that would be replayed over and over on national TV for 50 years.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">On
August 28, 1963, a quarter of a million people marched on Washington D.C., and
they were calmed by Reverend Martin Luther King’s “I have a dream” speech – a
presentation that will be repeated so often it is more recognizable than the
Gettysburg address.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">We
had already been horrified on September 15, when the 16<sup>th</sup> Street
Baptist Church was bombed, killing 4 little girls attending Sunday School. I
remember where I was and who I was with when that news was received moments
after it happened.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">So
we wondered what the hell else could happen? could It possible get any worse?
1963 said, “Here. Hold my beer.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">On
November 22, 1963, one deadly shot in Dallas, TX horrified our nation, and the
world. For a time, we were no longer Republicans or Democrats, but Americans - UNIFIED
in grief. John F. Kennedy was President of the United States. That’s ALL of us.
Nobody said, “The Democrats lost their President.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">The
next 40 or so years, though, were painful on many issues. Black vs white, North
vs South… we were still fighting the War Between the States, Marines vs the
rest of the military, Vietnam, Gulf War, Somolia, Panama, and on and on, until<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">September
11, 2001.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Where
were you on Sept 11, 2001 at 7:46am Central time? When American Airlines Flight
11 crashed into the North Tower of the World Trade Center? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you were born before about 1991 (the year
of Desert Storm), you probably can remember exactly where you were. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">By
9:07am, an hour and 15 minutes later, when United flight 93 crashed In
Pennsylvania, I know where you were, and what you were doing. You were glued to
a television somewhere. You were shocked, angry, and feeling confused and
helpless. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">You
watched in anguish as the Twin towers fell again and again, and the Pentagon
exploded. You watched first responders rush through noxious smog into barely
visible black holes into crumbling buildings, and people leapt to their deaths
from dozens of stories up to escape death by fire. Maybe you wept. Maybe you
prayed. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Unless
you lived and worked in NYC. Unless you were a first responder in the area.
There was no time for weeping or anger. For them, there was only FOCUS.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Of
the almost 3000 citizens who perished that day, over 400 were first responders,
most of those were firefighters, and ALL of them were true heroes. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">My
pastor says the church isn’t the building. The church is the people. Its symbol
is a cross. Likewise, the United States isn’t the Twin Towers or the Pentagon.
The United States is the people. Our symbol is our flag. None of the heroes of
9/11 rushed into the Twin Towers to save a building. Their purpose was to
rescue PEOPLE.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">In
my heart, I KNOW most of them realized that rushing into the mouth of hell that
day could most likely be their last action on this earth. I believe most of
them knowingly sacrificed all their tomorrows so that somebody’s mother or
father, or somebody’s son or daughter could have a TODAY. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">The
Bible tells us<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Greater love hath no man
than this: that he lay <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>down his life for
his friends.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Except
maybe that he lay down his life for a complete stranger?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">In
the years after 9/11/2001, thousands of first responders suffered the effects
of the heat and breathing the toxic dust that day, and many would die from it
in a couple of years. By 2013, over 1400 first responders who had worked the
scene that day had died from the diagnosis “exposure to toxins at Ground Zero”.
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>By 2016, another 2100 firefighters had
retired on disability with World Trade Center-related illnesses, mostly lung
diseases and cancers. This brought the total count of “first Responder casualties”
to almost 4,000.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">But
for a time after the attack on us on 9/11/2001, we ceased being Democrats or
Republicans, black or white, Christian or Jewish, rich or poor. Nobody cared if
you ate at Chic-fil-a or Ruth’s Chris. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">For
a time, You remember. we were ALL Americans. We stood shoulder to shoulder, arm
in arm, suffering and grieving the same profound loss. American flag companies
sold out. There was hardly a car or a truck or a house that did not display an
American flag. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What mattered was NOT
what divided us, but what UNITED us. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
was the greatest surge of patriotism in my lifetime.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Lest
they forget, it is VITAL that we teach our children and grandchildren the pride
and glory that being a patriotic America citizen feels like. That’s the real
importance of our annual 9/11 memorial services. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">We
remember and celebrate the day the fires of patriotism burned the brightest,
and the day the American spirit could NOT be quenched. It is why we call
September 11 “Patriot Day”.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">So
remember … Where were you on 9/11/2001?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>and please… tell the story<o:p></o:p></span></p>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04196279667342161503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5956890724830555898.post-31265058117127366292021-06-25T11:09:00.002-05:002021-06-25T11:09:57.373-05:00No Other Choice<p> <span style="font-size: 14pt;">“<i><b>Behind every strong woman is a story
that gave her no other choice</b></i>"</span><span style="font-size: 14pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">…Nakeia Homer</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">This quotation made me think. I mean
really. Usually I read quotations and think, “That’s cute.” or “Clever!” or “Very
profound.” THIS one, though, got me to thinking about the many strong women I’ve
known and their stories.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">If you know me, you know I’m not a
feminist. Or really much of any other “…ist”. So don’t misunderstand me, but
men don’t understand. Actually, most women don’t either. I can tell by the
comments:</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p> <span> </span></o:p></span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">“Why didn’t you leave him?”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"><span> </span>“You always have a choice.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"><span> </span>“I would have…(insert any action)…”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"><span> </span>“You are too smart to put up with that.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"><span> </span>“You should have called the police.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"><span> </span>“You could have taken the children and
left.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">The answer to any of these questions is
not simple. It is a very, very complicated journey from “We were high school sweethearts,”
to “He wouldn’t allow me contact with friends or family.” </span><span style="font-size: 14pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">It is a long and complex journey from “We were
young and so in love,” to “He only hits me when he is drunk.” She can’t explain
years and years of “no choice” in a few words.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">It took a degree in Psychology PLUS
really, really LISTENING to a few stories from strong women for me to kinda understand
the concept of “no other choice”. Typically, unless you have been in a “no
other choice” situation, you do NOT understand the concept. </span><span style="font-size: 14pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">But here it is:</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">ONLY STRONG WOMEN SURVIVE THE “NO OTHER
CHOICE” SITUATION. The weak ones usually don’t come out very well on the other
side, if they come out at all.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">Bottom line: If there was a choice, she
was not in a “no other choice” situation, which is what people who have never
been in a </span><i style="font-size: 14pt;">no other choice</i><span style="font-size: 14pt;"> situation will
likely never understand. </span><span style="font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04196279667342161503noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5956890724830555898.post-10391628599107277792021-02-07T13:35:00.001-06:002021-02-07T13:35:40.770-06:00Drivethrough Shootings<p> <span style="font-size: 14pt;">For several
weeks I have been involved in drive-through shootings.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Working in
the UAB-Highlands parking deck, 8 RNs are giving approximately 2000 COVID
vaccine injections a day. As I drive home every day, I talk to my friend Linda,
who got me this job. As she says, I “debrief” her about my day.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Since I’m
not in charge of anything or anyone except myself, and since I have ONE JOB, it
follows that everything else is NOT my job. Almost everything – except stepping
to the car, giving the injection, and applying a bandage – is, LITERALLY, above
my pay grade.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">So what do I
tell Linda during a 20 minute drive every day? Well, most of them can’t be
printed here, because the tale itself could identify specific people, and that’s
not fair, since I have 50 years experience, and some of them have a year or
less experience… but it isn't rocket surgery to give an IM injection into a
person’s deltoid, so…<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">But… when a young
nurse told me that back when she worked at UPS, they had to use not only
military hours, but also military “minutes”, I had to ask wtf she meant by
that. She told me that, for example, if it is 4:30pm, the military time would
be 1650, if you used minutes too. I had to smh. She said she had all those
military minutes memorized back when she worked for UPS, but has forgotten most
of it now. I really wondered how she got through nursing school, and I had to
tall Linda about that, but I digress…<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Aside from
working standing up for 5 hours in 35 degree weather, the job itself gets
rather routine, rote, and frankly boring, until this happened:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">A car drove
up, stopped, and the driver indicated that the “patient” is in the back seat on
the passenger side.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">When she
rolled down the window, there was an elderly (our patients right now are 75+)
lady with a pretty, hand-made pink lacy mask.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I said, “Please raise your sleeve and hold it.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I cleaned
her deltoid with an alcohol wipe, waited 10 seconds for it to dry, and injected
the needle. For some reason, I looked at her face. Her eyes were red, and big
tears were rolling down her face onto her mask. This injection is a tiny
needle, and only 0.3cc, so we don’t get many criers.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“OH! Did I
hurt you?” I exclaimed. “I’m so sorry!”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Oh no! I
didn’t even feel it, Hon. These are tears of JOY. After 10 months, now I will
finally be able to hug my grandchild.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I cried too,
and now, retelling it, I am crying yet again.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">There are many
stories similar to this one. As you go about your day, ZOOMing with your clubs
and organizations, fist-bumping your friends, watching the skewed news, or
wondering and worrying about the weather, you need to know how very much this vaccine means
to so many people. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">For many,
this is not as much about being able to go back to church or to meetings or
taking off your mask at the grocery store … it is about LOVE.<o:p></o:p></span></p>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04196279667342161503noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5956890724830555898.post-60648791705520650232020-12-13T11:57:00.001-06:002020-12-13T11:57:09.334-06:00Why I Joined a VSO<p> <span style="font-size: 14pt;">I see a lot
of posts on social media about how younger veterans don’t feel like the
established VSOs (American Legion, VFW, Amvets, etc.) “relate” to them. Several
groups have risen up across America that cater specifically to the younger
veterans. They advertise that they are “family friendly”, and offer a place
where veterans and their families can come play tennis, basketball, video
games, or drink and have a place to sleep it off.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">In my mind,
this is fine, but NOT a “substitute” for a VSO. The typical VSO is not a gym or
a hotel with a bar. Neither is their purpose a social club. I grant you, some
of them DO have a bar, but that is their way to raise funds for the programs
they have for veterans and their families. The middle letter in VSO stands for
SERVICE. And most of them are quite “family friendly” because they have myriad programs
and opportunities for spouses and children of veterans.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">SERVICE: I
can’t list everything, because I have to eat and sleep sometimes, but here are
a few of the things the VSOs in Birmingham (and everywhere) do:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">* Have CERTIFIED Service Officers whose
job it is to file your disability claim. FREE.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">* Service Officers also help with other
benefits, such as:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>GI
Bill benefits</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">VA
Loans for housing</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Education
benefits for spouses and dependent children<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Obtaining
your military records<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Depending on which state you live in, there are other,
state-based benefits the Service officer knows about. In Alabama, we have
nursing homes and <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">State-based benefits in addition to your National VA
benefits.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">*Most VSOs also have money for emergency
payments (electricity, gas, rent)<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">*Some VSOs use some of their money for
emergency food, Christmas for the</span><span style="font-size: 14pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">children
of veterans (and others), CARE packages sent overseas, etc.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">*Most VSOs also work with local Home
Depots and contractors to repair homes of <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: 14pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">veterans or their widows – everything from major stuff like roofs, </span><span style="font-size: 14pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">bathrooms, </span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">kitchens – to building wheelchair ramps, repairing walls and</span><span style="font-size: 14pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">floors, etc.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">*VSOs have essay and/or oratorical
contests that provide quite large scholarships <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">for <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>children of
veterans. Some also sponsor baseball and soccer teams at their<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>local schools. Then there is American Legion
Baseball (scholarships)<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">*American Legion sponsors Boys State in
every state. Every boy who attends gets <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: 14pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">a guaranteed scholarship. The American Legion Auxiliary sponsors girls
to</span><span style="font-size: 14pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">Girls State.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">*Most VSOs have an “honors” team that
provides bugles, rifles and/or chaplains </span><span style="font-size: 14pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">for interment of
veterans. Some also have Patriot Guard Riders liaisons.</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"> </span><span style="font-size: 14pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">They also will, if asked, provide flag education,
flag disposal ceremonies, </span><span style="font-size: 14pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">and flag disposal for
your unserviceable flag.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">*VSOs always support other veterans
groups, like all the State and National </span><span style="font-size: 14pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">Cemeteries, Wreaths
Across America, parades, Veterans Day and Memorial </span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">Day programs, Three Hots and a Cot, the Vet Centers, and
activities at the local V.A. Hospitals – visitation, coffee rooms, information
desks, homeless veterans programs, baby showers at the V.A. Clinic, etc.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">*Virtually ALL VSOs have an Auxiliary
that helps with their programs, and some </span><span style="font-size: 14pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">even have a YOUTH group,
with leaders from the organization that teach </span><span style="font-size: 14pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">HONOR, SERVICE, and
mentor our future leaders</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">So please join your other veterans
groups. Have fun. But do NOT think these are a substitute for the Veteran
Service Organizations. That is comparing apples and cherry pie.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">If I ask you why you joined a local
veterans club, you will tell me it’s because you can play ball, drink, bring
your family to watch a football game. You might also tell me you don’t relate
to an old veteran sitting in a bar telling war stories.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">If you ask me why I joined a VSO, I’ll
tell you because it is an opportunity. Not only am I around other veterans with
whom I share experiences, it allows me to identify and assist those who are
struggling. It allows me to offer scholarships to children who otherwise might
not be able to attend college. It lets me help others with their benefits, and
I am proud to be on a flag HONORS team.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">And while I do visit other VSOs, and sit
at their bars and have a beer with them, watch the World Series with them, talk
about who won the Army/Navy game or the Alabama/Auburn game, or maybe play a
game of poker or BUNKO with them, or get on on their football board, I am NOT
an old man.</span></p>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04196279667342161503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5956890724830555898.post-37083474665210319982020-11-30T09:12:00.000-06:002020-11-30T09:12:38.995-06:0030 Days of Gratitude - Day 30<p> <span style="font-size: 14pt;">Day 30 –
November 30 –</span><i style="font-size: 14pt;"> </i><span style="font-size: 14pt;">“Give thanks for God’s
continued love, grace, and mercy”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I am so
grateful I was born after Christ. The God of the Old Testament seemed to be an
angry, vengeful, fear-invoking God. I’m not a Biblical scholar, but I don’t
remember any scripture in the Old Testament that depicts God as a God of love,
grace, and mercy.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Having
children changes you. Maybe the birth of His Son changed Him too. Jesus was
both fully human and fully divine. Of course, Jesus changed the world. Some say
the whole point of sending Jesus was so he could experience the human condition
firsthand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t pretend to know the
mind of God. But if the Bible is to be believed, and I do believe it, after
Jesus was born, God became a God of love, grace, and mercy. He became
compassionate. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">So since I
hope to spend eternity somewhere besides in everlasting flames, I am very
thankful for God’s forgiveness (mercy) for my many transgressions, for God’s grace
that I don’t have to “earn” , and for His unconditional love,.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Amen and
AMEN<o:p></o:p></span></p>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04196279667342161503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5956890724830555898.post-32357395284676886962020-11-29T22:46:00.000-06:002020-11-29T22:46:10.678-06:0030 Days of Gratitude - Day 29<p> <span style="font-size: 14pt;">Day 29 –
November 29 – </span><i style="font-size: 14pt;">First Sunday of Advent – </i><span style="font-size: 14pt;">“Give
thanks that the Christ-child is coming and continues to come to us”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Yesterday I
put together my Advent wreath. Today the first candle, that represents “HOPE”
was lit. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The current
sermon series at church is on Dreams, and our Advent meditations for the month
are also about dreams and dreaming.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">When Christ
was a “gleam in his Father’s eye”, so to speak, an angel appeared to Mary to
tell her of her impending pregnancy. But the angel appeared to Joseph in a
dream to inform him that his fiancé was having a baby. There are Biblical
scholars who believe Mary probably also had a dream, but that the writer of the
Gospels probably thought an angel appearing in person would be more believable
to the people of the time.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The Magi had
a dream too. Many things were revealed to people in dreams in Biblical times.
Angels appeared to the shepherds to let them know Christ was born. All of the time surrounding the coming of Christ seems to be wrapped up in angels and dreams. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Whether in a
dream, or in person, the people directly involved in the birth of the
Christ-child were informed of the event. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Christians celebrate the birth every year, and begin to anticipate it four
weeks in advance. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I can’t
imagine what the world would be like without Christ, so I do give thanks for
His birth and life. He is always with us, in the Holy Spirit. Now, 2000 years
later, we still anticipate the day He will come again. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Thank you,
God, for the gift of Your son.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Amen.<o:p></o:p></span></p>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04196279667342161503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5956890724830555898.post-9738365959273036572020-11-28T21:20:00.003-06:002020-11-28T21:20:43.442-06:0030 Days of Gratitude - Day 28<p> <span style="font-size: 14pt;">Day 28 –
November 28 – “Give thanks for what you’ve learned about yourself this month”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I’ve learned
that I whine a lot.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I’ve learned
that this isolation (due to COVID) has stolen a lot of my joy.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>God knows I’m trying to keep a positive
attitude. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I’m alive
and healthy, so I really am thankful for that. If I were sequestered and sick,
what an awful situation that would be! And there are many other people in that
exact place.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">So while I
haven’t really learned much about myself I didn’t already know, I truly thank
God for my health.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Amen.<o:p></o:p></span></p>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04196279667342161503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5956890724830555898.post-39411672768066784142020-11-27T14:00:00.000-06:002020-11-27T14:00:36.735-06:0030 Days of Gratitude - Day 27<p> <span style="font-size: 14pt;">Day 27 –
November 27 – “Give thanks for your favorite place. Why is it your favorite
place?”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">My “favorite
place” changes with my mood and my age.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Historically
my favorite place has always been the beach. Keith’s sister, Dianne, had a
cottage on the beach at Gulf Shores. It is where we walked along the surf at
night, built sand turtles, and spent hours talking and laughing. It is where Keith
asked me to marry him. Back then, the road and beach were deserted for miles on
either side, except for one little oyster bar. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">In about
1979, Hurricane Frederic blew away most of Gulf Shores, including Dianne’s
cottage and the oyster bar. In the years that followed, Dianne rebuilt the cottage,
this time up on stilts, with a modern kitchen, and large enough to sleep 8
adults.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">All the
surrounding property was built up. No longer is there a view. From Dianne’s
deck the only view is a multistory timeshare building directly across the road.
No view of the beach at all, and no access to it unless you walk a half mile
down the road. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Going to the beach became
a chore rather than a pleasure.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Then we
started going to the mountains. Renting a chalet up in the area overlooking
Gatlinburg, TN twice a year, and inviting Mark and Aaron’s friends to join us,
made for such laughter, music, and happiness. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Then
everyone grew up, Keith died, and Mark, Aaron and I made one last trip to
Gatlinburg in 2008 to have a little ceremony and leave some of his ashes on the
top of one of the mountains up there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>That was my last trip to the mountains.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I’ve always
loved being at home. But once your family is out of your house, it sometimes
ceases to feel like a “home”. While there are still memories there, they
fade over time, and over the chores of upkeep, yardwork, cleaning, blowing
leaves, changing light bulbs and eating leftovers in front of the TV. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Right now,
my favorite place, and the place I spend a lot of time every week, is Alabama
Veterans Memorial Park. The only two who live at my house now are Jaco and me.
So about 3 times a week, we go up to AVMP and take a walk to the flagpole.
Usually we are the only 2 in the park, so we have it all to ourselves. I
usually talk to him as we hike up the road. I point out dead trees, Boy Scout
bricks in the path, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and always comment
on the state of the flag up on the flagpole. More often than not, I sit on a
bleacher and remember … there I go again! Fond memories of Veterans Day and
Memorial Day stepstone dedications, the year several of us worked as “docents”
during the summer, and the day<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>a
favorite 95-year-old WWII veteran, who was mostly blind, but whose friend
brought him up there to sit with me, asked me to marry him.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">He was a
widower, who had 18 children by one wife, about 12 of whom were still living. I
laughed and told him I could never “keep up with” his wife’s “activity”. I just
don’t have the energy. We all laughed and he said, “Well, we didn’t have no TV
back then.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Yep. My favorite
place right now is definitely AVMP.<o:p></o:p></span></p>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04196279667342161503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5956890724830555898.post-37625055773724931842020-11-26T09:20:00.000-06:002020-11-26T09:20:03.235-06:0030 Days 6of Gratitude - Day 26<p> <span style="font-size: 14pt;">Day 26 –
November 26 – Thanksgiving Day - “What traditions are you grateful for?”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">As the years
go by, and as every day of 2020 sometimes seems like a year, our traditions
have waned, and this year they have pretty much died. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Today is
Thanksgiving Day, and I do give thanks that my family and I are healthy,
because when health is gone, nothing else matters much. Every Thanksgiving Day
since I was born, I have gathered with extended family to eat, remember, and
enjoy the togetherness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is the one
day of the whole year some of us see each other. There is always plenty of
food, the parade on TV, the men falling asleep on the couch in front of the TV while
the women clean up the table and the kitchen, and enjoy some once-a-year girl
time. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">At the end
of the day, we all hug and promise to text, call or visit more often… but we
never do, which makes the Thanksgiving Day mini-family-reunion all the more
special, and IMPORTANT.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Not this year.
Not 2020.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It is so
very strange this year. I’m not somebody to give up easily, though. This year
there is no big family gathering. This year our Thanksgiving feast includes
just Aaron and me. Mark and Michelle are coming over to sit on the porch and talk
a while.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So no turkey. No casseroles and
deviled eggs. No pumpkin and pecan pies. Like I said, I don’t give up easily. I
did a crockpot chicken, and quartered it. Instead of huge casseroles, I did
tiny casseroles in aluminum “pans” and carried Thanksgiving dinner around to
Mark and Michelle and several friends who can’t gather, and who will be pretty
much alone today. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I think
Christmas will be similar.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I think New
Years Eve and New Years Day will too.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think the traditions of the past will remain
in the past. Once a tradition is dropped, it is very hard to renew it
later.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So thank you Lord, for 74 years
of happy, warm traditions. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">They can
take away the traditions, but they can’t take away my memories of them.<o:p></o:p></span></p>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04196279667342161503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5956890724830555898.post-65741046313419187182020-11-25T15:43:00.003-06:002020-11-25T15:43:56.604-06:0030 Days of Gratitude - Day <p> <span style="font-size: 14pt;">Day 25 –
November 25 – “Give thanks for someone who can make you laugh”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The one person
who can make me laugh ANY time is Mark Branson. His unique form of humor makes
me laugh until I cry, and my sides hurt, and I can’t catch my breath.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">However,
because I love him so very much, he can also make me cry with his caustic and
hurtful words. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Isn’t it
strange that the one person who can delight you so much can also hurt you so
much? <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">So I’ll suffer
the “bad” because the “good” is so wonderful.<o:p></o:p></span></p>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04196279667342161503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5956890724830555898.post-18096814957463795312020-11-24T12:51:00.001-06:002020-11-24T12:51:42.991-06:0030 Days of Gratitude - Day 24<p><span style="font-size: 14pt;">Day 24 –
November 24 – “Give thanks for a longtime friend”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I could
write a book about this one!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">But I’m
going to choose just ONE friend – Pat.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">We met in
the back seat of Mr. Hall’s car on the way to the Citywide spelling bee
competition in 1960. Mr. Hall was the principal of both Minnie Holman and Woodlawn
Elementary Schools. Pat was the winner from Woodlawn, and I was the runner-up
from Holman. That day was the beginning of a friendship that has lasted these
last 65 years.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Just as an
outline, there are these things:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">1.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I am godmother to her children<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">2.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">She was matron of honor in my first
wedding in 1969. (She saved the pictures and recently sent them to me.)<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">3.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">For 50 or so years, we wrote letters
back and forth about once a month and spoke on the phone about once a year.
(Before internet, cell phones and texting) That was the way people in different
cities communicated back then. Hard to imagine now.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">4.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">When I moved to Texas, she took care
of me and my family for several months, until we got settled.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">5.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Both our mothers were overbearing,
controlling, and independent.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">6.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Both our fathers were laid back,
loving, fun and controlled by our mothers.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">7.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Both our mothers outlived our fathers.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">8.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Over the years, Pat has anticipated
my needs, and often called me to offer help before I even knew I needed help.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">9.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">We both love to write.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">10.</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> We both joined the military<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">11.</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> We love each other more than
sisters, but yet we ARE “Sisters” because we both are NSDAR members.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I can’t
imagine my life without Pat, so yes. I thank God EVERY DAY for bringing Pat
into my life, and keeping her there all these years. <o:p></o:p></span></p>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04196279667342161503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5956890724830555898.post-35077395525788357632020-11-23T11:07:00.001-06:002020-11-23T11:07:12.923-06:0030 Days of Gratitude - Day 23<p> <span style="font-size: 14pt;">Day 23 –
November 23 – “Give thanks for someone that told you a difficult truth”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">This is the
hardest assignment yet. I’m not sure anyone has told me difficult truths, other
than that a loved one has died, or like last week, my children aren’t coming
for Thanksgiving or Christmas this year. It is hard to give thanks for any of
that, and I’m pretty sure none of that is the “spirit” of this assignment.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Nobody has
ever told me I’m not smart enough to do something, or that I can’t do something
because I’m female, or that I’m too old for something.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">That said, I’m
still waiting for someone to tell me what appears right now to be a truth, and
it will be very difficult indeed: That I’m not getting a fence in my back yard. And it will be equally difficult to give thanks for the person that has to tell me that.<o:p></o:p></span></p>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04196279667342161503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5956890724830555898.post-2378829242799670672020-11-22T18:32:00.000-06:002020-11-22T18:32:15.634-06:0030 Days of Gratitude - Day 22<p> <span style="font-size: 14pt;">Day 22 –
November 22 - </span><span style="font-size: 14pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">“Give thanks for those
that bless the church with their musical talents.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Music is so
important to the <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>experience of worship. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">When I was a
child out in rural St. Clair County, my parents started attending a tiny church
out in the middle of nowhere. It had maybe 10 people there, besides the
preacher. They had a piano in the “sanctuary”, but nobody played it, and they
didn’t sing hymns, even though there were some hymnals on the pews.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Mother
volunteered to play the piano for them on Sunday mornings, so they could sing
hymns. Well, that led to a small choir, and then to a prelude and a postlude.
Then more people started coming. Within a year, the little sanctuary was
PACKED! <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">With more
adults, there were more children, more babies, and they opened a nursery for
Sunday mornings. Pretty soon, there was Sunday School and first Saturday night “Singing and Supper
on the grounds”, and then Memorial Day to clean and decorate the graves in the
little church cemetery.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">In another
year, there was enough money to buy a small organ, and then they had to have 2
services, because the sanctuary wasn’t big enough to hold all the people who
wanted to come to church.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">They had
weddings and funerals. The choir did Christmas specials. Practically the whole
little community was attending church! All within about 3 years, total.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">So yes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I definitely give thanks for everyone who
shares their voice, their direction, their instrument playing, and even their
ideas! <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Thank you!!!<o:p></o:p></span></p>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04196279667342161503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5956890724830555898.post-75643466220561438362020-11-21T14:28:00.000-06:002020-11-21T14:28:27.674-06:0030 Days of Gratitude - Day 21<p> <span style="font-size: 14pt;">Day 21 –
November 21 – “Name a random act of kindness you’ve received.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I am inundated
with random acts of kindness. I receive one almost every day.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I will tell
you about some of them I’ve received in the last week or so, but you might not
recognize them as “random acts of kindness”, but I would argue that any kind
act someone does for me, that happened “randomly” fits the definition. One of
the very simple ones I can think of right off the top of my head is when Aaron
was over here last week, and carried out my garbage. Then he came back and put
a new bag in the can. He didn’t tell me, wasn’t asked… just did it out of
kindness, and it certainly was RANDOM.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Also last
week, I had 50 newsletters to address and stamp. Patty randomly called and
offered to help me address them. Kindness indeed.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">You already
know about my neighbor who gives me eggs from his chickens. This is kind of an “ongoing”
act of kindness, so might not be so random any more.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Every once
in a while, dear Pat sends me a box of books. What a wonderful thing for her to
do for me! It’s always random, and I consider it a true act of kindness.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Linda occasionally brings me a blouse or a floor mat or a pair of shoes, or a
book, and says, “This made me think of you.” Or “This is so YOU.” Random? Yes.
Kind? VERY.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Sometimes
Michelle shows up with buttermilk popsicles.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Sharon
writes me notes and leaves them in my car seat. Sometimes it is a card, or a “just
thinking of you” note. It always makes my day!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lea called
and offered her staff to help me unload the Wreaths Across America truck when
it arrives. That is several weeks away, but what a kind thought, and takes
loads of stress off me.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Chris messaged
me and has offered Alabama Veteran members to help place the wreaths on the
graves on December 19.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">And precious
Amanda encourages me with her weekly phone call “check-in”. She realizes that
to me, texting is impersonal. It also is difficult for me, since I can’t hit a
single little digit with my huge fingers, and spend more time correcting what I
pecked than I spent even thinking about the message. Three words take me 3
minutes to text. So I tend to “sound” abrupt in my texts. But Amanda spends an
hour or so of her time every week talking to me on the phone. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">For me,
every random act of kindness is a blessing, so when I say I am blessed, I
really really mean it.<o:p></o:p></span></p>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04196279667342161503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5956890724830555898.post-76772836517415523012020-11-21T08:55:00.001-06:002020-11-21T08:55:20.997-06:0030 Days of Gratitude - Day 20<p> </p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Day 20 –
November 20 – “What made you smile today?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The first
thing that made me smile today was when I woke up and Jaco’s muzzle was
snuggled against my neck. He was still asleep.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">When I got
up, I put on the robe Mark and Michelle gave me for Mother’s Day. Not only is
it beautiful and soft and comfortable, but THEY gave it to me. I think about
them whenever I put it on, and THAT makes me smile every morning.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">While coffee
was brewing, I fried 2 of the little brown eggs my neighbor gave me from his
chickens. I thought about all the years my grandmother had chickens, and let me
help feed them and gather eggs. Thinking about my grandmother made me smile.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Checked my
email. Two bids on two items I have for sale on ebay. That made me smile!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">This
Thanksgiving and Christmas, I will be alone for the first time ever in my whole
life. I’m still going to put up a tree.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Thank you 2020.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That doesn’t make
me smile, but I did get out the old photo albums and remembered Christmases
past. THAT made me smile, until I got to 2007. No pictures that Christmas.
Hardest Christmas ever, until THIS year. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">So, what mostly
made me smile today? <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Memories.<o:p></o:p></span></p>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04196279667342161503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5956890724830555898.post-82613753874551718202020-11-19T10:24:00.000-06:002020-11-19T10:24:12.038-06:0030 Days of Gratitude - Day 19<p> <span style="font-size: 14pt;">Day
19 – November 19 – “Give thanks for what you’ve learned and are learning about
God”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">I’ve
learned that my 5-year-old idea of God being an old man in long robes, and
sitting on a giant throne in the clouds isn’t a realistic view of God.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">I’ve
learned that no matter how big I can imagine God to be, He is much bigger. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">And
God is not a person. He is love and light. He is omnipotent and universal,
which is, frankly, beyond my wildest imagination. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">God
neither rewards nor punishes people. He gave us free will, so if asked, He will
give us guidance, but we are essentially masters of our own earthly fate.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">I’ve
learned that God answers prayer, but sometimes His answer is, “NO.”
Nevertheless, prayer changes the one who prays. God doesn’t change. I do.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">I’ve
learned that sometimes, when I’m alone, I feel God’s presence all around me.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">But
sometimes I ask, “Where are You God?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">And
I have learned that God gives us “prevenient grace”.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">It
is His eternal gift to us. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Thank
you God, for loving me unconditionally.<o:p></o:p></span></p>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04196279667342161503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5956890724830555898.post-20507483312488249152020-11-18T19:59:00.006-06:002020-11-18T19:59:47.003-06:0030 Days of Gratitude - Day 18<p> <span style="font-size: 14pt;">Day 18 –
November 18 – “What is your favorite creation?”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Easy one. My<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>favorite creation is sunset on the beach.
Hands down.<o:p></o:p></span></p>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04196279667342161503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5956890724830555898.post-83943641758840593842020-11-18T19:55:00.003-06:002020-11-18T19:56:00.065-06:0030 Days of Gratitude - Day 17<p><span style="font-size: 14pt;">Day 17 – November
17– “What do you love about your friends?”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">For every
friend I have, I love something different, because no two are alike.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">1.<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> 1. </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Some of my friends are warm and
caring,<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">2.<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> 2. </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Some of my friends are brutally
honest, yet also caring.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">3.<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> 3. </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Some of my friends will talk to me
any time of the day or night, any day of the week.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">4.<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> 4. </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Some of my friends call me to share
the troubles that arise in their lives<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">5.<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> 5. </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Some call me to share the joys that
arise in their lives.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">6.<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> 6. </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Some listen intently but silently.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">7.<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> 7. </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Some listen and give me feedback.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">8.<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> 8. </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Some of my friends anticipate my
troubles or needs, and act almost miraculously to make things better.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">9.<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> 9. </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Some of my friends and I have drifted
apart over the years.</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">1 I love my friends, and I love that they love me too.</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><br /></p>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04196279667342161503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5956890724830555898.post-27851047939943577822020-11-16T10:44:00.001-06:002020-11-16T10:44:41.634-06:0030 Days of Gratitude - Day 16<p> <span style="font-size: 14pt;">Day 16 –
November 16 – “Name a time that you’ve been given a second chance.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Second chances
are slippery slopes, and sometimes have grim outcomes.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Since this 30-day exercise is about
inspection and self awareness, I’m pretty sure the intent is not to explore all
the mistakes I’ve made over the years. I have, however, explored many of them, and a
whole lot of them involve second chances. But I am a person who likes to find “silver
linings”, so while many of my “second chances” have been disastrous, I like to
cover up the disasters with things like, “… well, if I hadn’t made THIS choice,
I wouldn’t have met you,” or “.. well, if I hadn’t made THAT choice, I never
would have been a nurse or a soldier or a mother.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The BIG silver lining is that God ALWAYS gives me a second chance, and a third and a
fourth… ad infinitum. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Thank you,
God!<o:p></o:p></span></p>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04196279667342161503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5956890724830555898.post-25007516298376379872020-11-15T22:58:00.002-06:002020-11-15T22:58:22.044-06:0030 Days of Gratitude - Day 15<p> <span style="font-size: 14pt;">Day 15 –
November 15 – “Give thanks for your pastor”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Thank you,
Lord, for Reverend Malinda Weaver. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Pastor
Malinda is youngish for a pastor, but that gives her a freshness and an energy
that is inherent in youth, but mostly lost in older ministers. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">She is “on
call” 24/7, and every Sunday has a fresh, new “lesson” (that’s the new term for
a sermon). I wonder if older pastors have a portfolio of sermons that they recycle
at every new church, kinda like professors that have a set of lectures they use
every course. I’m pretty sure Pastor Malinda doesn’t yet have a set of prepared
lectures. I think she writes a new one every week.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Before
COVID, we rode together to visit our “shut-in” and ill church members. She has
a great sense of humor, and I really enjoy traveling with her. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">She has a
clear, articulate voice, but she is working on doing the little inflections at
the end of her sentences like the old-timey Methodist preachers used to do. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">One of the
things I like most about Pastor Malinda is she has no fear of difficult Bible
verses, and will preach on any of them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And I think it’s a “thing” now, that preachers do sermon “series”.
Gratitude is going on right now, hence this project that will continue through
November 30. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">And today,
at Avondale Park, was the “Blessing of the Animals”. I took Jaco over there to
get God’s blessing. While he loves walks, he also loves people and other dogs,
so it was hard to get him to sit still, because he wanted to greet everyone and
every dog. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Pastor
Malinda said the prayer of St. Francis of Assissi, and blessed Jaco. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Thank you,
sweet Malinda, and I thank God for you.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Q6l4ngDelFE/X7IGtNTTqDI/AAAAAAAAD6o/K0DSCe10kiMNd4Fq_DEImDFAyie6pBprwCNcBGAsYHQ/s960/blessing2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="309" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Q6l4ngDelFE/X7IGtNTTqDI/AAAAAAAAD6o/K0DSCe10kiMNd4Fq_DEImDFAyie6pBprwCNcBGAsYHQ/w232-h309/blessing2.jpg" width="232" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span><p></p>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04196279667342161503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5956890724830555898.post-687665290420756572020-11-14T16:18:00.000-06:002020-11-14T16:18:09.337-06:0030 Days of Gratitude - Day 14<p> <span style="font-size: 14pt;">Day 14 –
November 14 – “Give thanks for your home.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">My home is
something I am VERY thankful for. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">This house
is where I raised my sons, and where several other guys spent a big part of
their childhood. There are so many memories here – both good and bad, if I’m
perfectly honest. The good far outweigh the bad, though.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Aside from
many years of warm, happy Christmases, there were also many fun Easters. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I cooked
Easter dinner every year until about 2002. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After dinner, all the boys here hunted Easter
eggs in the back yard. The plastic eggs had numbers inside them, and each
number corresponded to a small gift, such as bubbles, matchbox cars, slinkys,
and books. Three numbers always meant $20, $10 and $5. The year Mark was 22,
his friend Josh said they were too old to hunt Easter eggs, but I said no eggs,
no dinner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He said, “Where is my basket?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It turned
out that was the last year they had the Easter eggs, but that year they had
more fun with the little people toys than ever before – all of them in the yard
blowing bubbles, playing whiffle ball, and feeding the birds.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">My basement
birthed many bands, some of which are still together and performing, and two
are still practicing down there sometimes.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The house
has stayed together thanks to many, many friends who have contributed talent,
skill, and money. It needs work now, but I’m sure it will hold together until I’m
gone.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I could have
done things differently, some better, but some I did just right. My only REAL
regret is selling the back lot to people who made my yard very dangerous and
then built the ugliest house in the neighborhood about 50 feet from my bedroom
window. That wouldn’t be so bad, except they took down my 30-year-old red
maples and the flowering trees that we planted back in 1992.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I still keep the picture of those trees,
because it makes me very happy.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--xj3OFrh_tw/X7BWIc1KcOI/AAAAAAAAD6Q/7I1YnL1lRIkg9y1M5uMem8BLxW94O4MlACNcBGAsYHQ/s640/back%2Byard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--xj3OFrh_tw/X7BWIc1KcOI/AAAAAAAAD6Q/7I1YnL1lRIkg9y1M5uMem8BLxW94O4MlACNcBGAsYHQ/s320/back%2Byard.jpg" width="320" /> </a><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Y8jf_fk27BY/X7BXSlKWsrI/AAAAAAAAD6c/sxmaWc6ciO4MqHFrGenbxVKXe7SfEDjxwCNcBGAsYHQ/s640/house%2Bout%2Bback.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="339" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Y8jf_fk27BY/X7BXSlKWsrI/AAAAAAAAD6c/sxmaWc6ciO4MqHFrGenbxVKXe7SfEDjxwCNcBGAsYHQ/w254-h339/house%2Bout%2Bback.JPG" width="254" /></a><br /><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">But I still am very thankful for my home, and the memories it holds.</div><br /><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span><p></p>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04196279667342161503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5956890724830555898.post-68369075129751139962020-11-14T08:04:00.001-06:002020-11-14T08:04:29.083-06:0030 Days of Gratitude - Day 13<p> <span style="font-size: 14pt;">Day 13 –
November 13 – “Give thanks for your family. Be intentional today about
encouraging one or several of your family members.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I thank God
EVERY DAY for my family. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">So today I
called my oldest living relative, Ruth. She is my dad’s first cousin, making
her my second cousin, and she is 94 years old. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">What an
amazing woman! She still drives, and before COVID hit, she was line-dancing at
the Senior Center every week and attending church every Sunday. She has a beautiful
little garden home, and smokes 3-4 cigarettes a day out on her back patio.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">But Ruth lives
in about 1980. She has no computer and no cell phone. She does have a color TV,
and spends her day reading and working crossword puzzles.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">After COVID
hit, and she couldn’t go to church anymore, someone brought her a CD player,
and brings her a CD of her church’s weekly service.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I did send
her a couple of masks several months ago.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">She has
survived the death of her husband of 50+ years, and the death of her older son
(Bill, who weighed over 600 pounds). Her younger son, Tom, has been ill for
years, but lives within an hour’s drive, so she drives over to visit him every couple of
weeks. Tom is now bedbound and “can’t stay awake” more than a few minutes. Ruth
still enjoys sitting with him.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">So today I
called Ruth. I wish I could hug her.<o:p></o:p></span></p>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04196279667342161503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5956890724830555898.post-43726473347461614302020-11-14T07:43:00.000-06:002020-11-14T07:43:12.052-06:0030 Days of Gratitude - Day 12<p> Day 12 - November 12 - "Give thanks for your talents".</p><p>I do. I wish I hadn't ignored some of them for 30 years, so that now they're about gone.</p><p>But we do what we do, and for reasons others can't understand.</p><p>We can't change the past. We don't know the future.</p><p>We have only the present. It's our GIFT.</p>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04196279667342161503noreply@blogger.com0