IT'S OKAY TO BE ANGRY WITH GOD - but talk with Him about it

 November 23, 2021  --  My Real Faith Seeds - a day of discussion with God.  

Over the past couple of months I've learned that people closest to me have been concerned about my mental health and wellbeing.  So, I talked with my doctor and told him that it is difficult, at times for me to care about even the smallest things like taking care of my daily shower or preparing something for me to eat.  I told him that my daughter, my husband and my pastor have expressed a concern that I should see someone to "help" me with extreme worry.  

From this expression of need, my doctor referred me to a therapist.  Her name was Ashley.  I talked with her for about 3 months 4 different occasions and I learned a lot about myself.  

1.  I realized that I was holding on to a lifetime of questions about why and God.  It boiled down to my wonder why God would allow 11 years of suffering for myself, Dan and our girls while they grew up.  Why didn't He take Dan the night of his accident, August 23, 1989?  I learned that the questions I had for God were actually an anger because, had Dan passed away on that night, he would have still had life insurance.  As it was, he sold his life insurance policy about 2 weeks before he died.  In addition to financially, it would have saved more than 11 years of pain and heartache for all of us, if Dan had passed that night.  THAT IS NOT TO SAY that I wanted him to die.  But since it was in God's plan, I'm just saying, it would have been easier and I could have moved on sooner.  As it was, there was much heartache and many mistakes on my part.

2.  I needed to talk with my Pastor as I had stood before a congregation on multiple occasions to express how much Jesus means to me and how "With Jesus, life is full", and yet, I had questions about the validity of those statements and the emptiness that I was personally trying to fill.

3.  Ashley discharged me after 3 months and I agreed that I had some break throughs from talking with her and carrying out the things that she suggested.   I felt a bit lighter.  However, I still have work to do on the management of my worry.  She said that she could see that I have a huge heart and all the things that I did were not done with malice.  She said that I had to hold others responsible for their part in the difficulties.  I should not shoulder all of that burden since it was not all my fault.  She said to try and "laugh" at the extreme thoughts of worry and realize that they come from a place of past trauma.  I heard her tell me that I need to deal with NOW and not hold on to the hurts and regrets of the past.  I also heard (now I have to believe it) that I need to look at the larger picture of people and events during my life and realize that they had a part in it all and that I am NOT responsible for all the hurts that I've experienced through life.

4.  Today, as I read the introduction to the book, A Case for Faith, I realized that I did need to talk to a third party (Ashley and my pastor) to blow away the fog of "why" and clarify the mental picture of exactly who and what was responsible for the pain and trauma.  I was not totally to blame.  

5.  My desire in life is for SELF - PEACE.  

I'm anxious to read a portion of this book, A CASE FOR FAITH, each morning so that I can pursue The Real Cathy and find that SELF - PEACE in my own Faith.  

Even in the reading silently, my mind races to how can I share this book with others.  That is not my job.  I need to focus on my self - peace.  I am not responsible for the whole world.

When I put the book down for the morning, I went to a heartfelt prayer and a discussion with God.  I let Him know that I believe it HAS been doubt in my Faith that I was dealing with, but that I wouldn't admit it.  I kept speaking the words to others, but doubted my Faith in real time.  

I thanked God for revealing this book to me from a storage place that was out of the way.  Only through His nudging, did I see it this morning.  I purchased it many years ago, but it is very relevant and useful for me at this moment in time.

I remember praying for myself and that big heart that has been spit on, taken advantage of, lied to and broken in many ways.  That heart - My heart - that was a victim of unspeakable hurt and lies.  My heart was vulnerable and a huge target for people to hurt as those others were also hurting people and trying to find someone to blame for their problems.  i.e. Dan, Bob B, Bob C, etc.

I prayed for myself and for my ability to see clearly all the trauma that I've experienced and how it was a big picture and not my fault in total. I am not the Savior of the World, but I must lean on the one who is.  I felt the PEACE from that dream, long ago, and realize that dream represented Dan's Heaven and that is what I want to feel again.  Someday, I will have that peace.  I'll have my room in Heaven and that PEACE that passes all understanding will surround me, just as it did in my dream.  For today, I will strive to forgive my past inadequacies as I forgive others who have trampled on my heart.

I BELIEVE IN GOD  - I HAVE FAITH IN ALMIGHTY GOD THE FATHER, HIS SON JESUS CHRIST AND IN THE HOLY SPIRIT.  

SO MAY IT EVER BE

Cathy's Story Chapter Two: Questions

 

CHAPTER 2:  Questions

The doctor finally came into the delivery room, after about an hour of waiting.  Stacy, Andrew and I were intent on hearing every syllable that came out of his mouth.  We watched intently as he talked directly to the new mother. 

He said, “She is doing good but needed a little help to get oxygen into her lungs.  This may just be temporary and is actually common with premature babies.  Their lungs develop last.  You will see lots of wires when you go in to see her, but don’t let that scare you, we have to monitor her vital signs at all times.  She has a cPap that helps her get oxygen into her weak lungs and she is well enough that she does not need an incubator, although the temperature is controlled in her bed to keep her warm.”

It will be important that you hold her for the first time, skin to skin.  Babies need that touch.

He told us that she weighed 5 pounds, 1 ounce and was 15.5 inches long. 

My grandmother eyes enlarged with that statistic.  Both of my sister’s babies were over nine pounds and my other sister’s boy was 24 inches long. I had remembered from 30 years earlier.  Size of a baby is important and memorable.

I said, “Isn’t that too short for a baby?”  but he assured me that was normal for a premature baby.  

Stacy said, “Mom, look at us.”  She was right, both of the parents were between 5’2” and 5’4”. 

So, the doctor left the room saying to give them just about 15 more minutes, then walk down the hall to the NICU to meet our new family member. 

The three of us, were totally silent and just stared as the doctor and nurse left the room.  Then we began to look to each other for what to do next.  Not much longer to wait, but what would we see when we finally did get to meet her?

When Stacy’s Dad and I decided to adopt a child, there were similar questions.  There was even more preparation before the baby arrived at our home.

 There is an application process and a caseworker comes to your house for a home study.  You have to fill out all types of financial forms to be sure you are able to afford a child. Then there is a wait until a match is found and once that is done, there is a wait before you can actually hold the baby in your arms.

So much waiting.  If nothing else it teaches you patience. Not only is the clock ticking slowly during the wait times, but the mind of the adoptive mother, particularly, is in over drive.  Thoughts come and go too quickly sometimes.  Questions wind like an ever increasing ball of string through her brain during each waiting phase. 

I have often wondered why there is so much paperwork to adopt a baby when parents who get pregnant through biological means do not have to go through any of that. 

This vision often comes to me where it is a beautiful moonlit night and there are a number of cars parked facing the moon on “Lover’s Lane”. 

Just as the windows start to steam up with passion of the occupants, a proper lady dressed in a navy blue coat with white gloves and glasses, approaches the side window of the car.  She is carrying a clipboard and knocks on the window.  Then she asks the occupants to fill out the proper papers prior to intercourse. 

Now, that’s a job I would not want to have!

Questions for the adoptive parent circle wildly through their brains.  What happens if we are not approved?  Maybe we don’t make enough money.  Did I use the right words to explain our living situation.  Is my husband’s temper going to be a problem? Maybe my house isn’t clean enough. 

Will the child be local?  Will the parents be taller?  Will she/he have blue eyes?  Why can’t we adopt a child of color?  What if the child develops a tic?

What if the mother changes her mind?  Why do we have to wait 4 months once the baby is placed with us?  What if there are medical issues after the placement?  Should we be open with the adoption and keep the birthmother in contact?  Should we make sure that we maintain the child’s privacy until they can determine if they want to contact the parents?

When do we tell our child they are adopted?

All these are appropriate questions and heart wrenching ones at the same time.  You think hormones rage during pregnancy?  Questions rage during the adoption process.

My first husband and I were thankfully advised, when we started the process, to talk with parents who had adopted children.  Find out if adopted kids were different from birthed kids.  So, a family opened their home to us as we visited them for a couple hours one evening.  They were from an adoption support group that we attended and knew what we were going through. 

We learned that adopted kids are just the same as homemade kids.  I will forever be grateful to that family for inviting us into their home and for being so open and honest about adoption.  The kids were simply wonderful.  They had a little girl, about 6 or 7, dressed in a night gown, as it was bedtime, with her long hair tied back in a ribbon.  They also had a towhead little boy, bigger than the girl but younger, who was playing with toy cars and also getting ready for bed.  They did not look at all like they were adopted and they called their parents Mommy and Daddy.  They even spoke English.

From our experience with that family and with our adoption group, we decided to always let our child know that adoption was normal.  Even before they could talk, we would say, “I’m so happy that God sent you to me and we were able to adopt you.” It is important that the child grow to know how grateful parents are for the opportunity to be their Mom and Dad. 

Adoption is a very natural way to have a child and it is up to the adoptive parent to let the child know that from the beginning.  Let them know that they are special right from the get-go.  But, caution - not too special.

During our adoption support group meetings, One Dad told us a true story about a day when neighborhood children were playing in the yard next door.  He was watching through the kitchen window and all of a sudden one of the little boys started to cry and run home. 

There was a mixed group of kids, some adopted and some not.  When the Dad questioned the other parent about what happened, the boy’s Dad said that he ran in the house saying, “I want to be adopted too.”  It seems that the adopted kids were exclaiming how special they were because their parents “chose” to have them and they didn’t just show up at birth.

The homemade kid ran home crying that he wanted to be special like the adopted kids and he wanted to be chosen too.   I say, don’t go too overboard with the special thing.

Prior to receiving your adopted kid, questions are normal and constant.  Afterall, the unknown is very scary to anyone. 

When you think about it, the questions of potential adoptive parents are not unlike that of going through a natural pregnancy, you just may have a longer period of wondering. 

Will it be a boy or a girl?  Will they have curly or straight hair?  What color will their eyes be?  Will they have all their toes and fingers?  All the questions that a parent can concoct in their minds.

When you adopt a baby, you have the same chance that there will be underlying conditions.  The same chance that you have when you are the biological parent.  You are not in control of your growing child during pregnancy, although you can eat all the right foods and exercise the proper amount and not put things into your body, like caffeine and alcohol.  You are not in control of that baby being formed. 

 Jeremiah 1:5

• New International Version

“Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart; I appointed you as a prophet to the nations.”

If you truly want a child and know that adoption is your number one means to that end, do not let worry about what might happen keep you from adopting a child.  However, do have a healthy respect for what you are getting in to. 

Children are so dependent on parents and there is never any time when you can give them back.  After all, birthing a child means that you have to keep that child too.  No way to send it back.

Adoption means that you become their parent in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer and as an adoptive mother, you will always share that child with another woman, whether the name is known or unknown.  Respect that and you have all but won the battle of emotions. 

It took me a while to come to terms with that fact.  In my mind, any child I gave birth to would be perfect.  He/she would have curly hair just like my husband and he would be a towhead just like I was.  I wanted a boy.  His name was Matthew Daniel.  My dream child never became reality, but I had to grieve him, just the same, when we found out we were infertile.

There is a lot of psychology that goes into adopting a child, raising a child and simply being a parent.  Having lived through both an agency adoption and a private adoption, the thought process is very similar.  

First you may have to come to terms with the fact that you will never be able to give birth, if one partner is sterile and IVF is not a choice financially.

If you already have homemade kids (every child is biologically made so I do not like that term “biological child”) then you have to come to terms with the fact that there should be no difference among the children adopted and those made at home.

Do this before you ever decide to adopt.  Realize that adoption is not a “second rate” way of bringing a child home.  Adoption is your number one way to bring a child into your life.

After about 15 minutes, Stacy and Andrew walked slowly out the delivery room door, with me following close behind.  We didn't talk but put our shoulders back, took many deep breaths and trudged to the NICU to meet our new baby.

 

Cathy's Story: Chapter 1 - I wanted to be there!

 

The sun was setting on the evening of January 19, 2017 as I rushed into the hospital parking garage by myself.  This was the second time today that I came to Geisinger, Danville hospital and I was so upset with all men in the world right now, that I could spit! But spitting would not show grace under pressure, so I swallowed hard and decided that there must always be a reason for everything.

 I don’t remember every mile of those curvy farm roads from Reedsville to Danville, but it was a trip that normally takes an hour and thirty minutes.  Looking at the clock on my dashboard, I had done it in under an hour and fifteen minutes.  I really wanted to get here as fast as I could, but I was hoping beyond hope and realized that I could not make it in time, even as I left my house.

My husband meant well, I suppose, and I just prayed that my daughter and my new grandbaby would be healthy and happy when I arrived at their bedside.  Oh, and, I prayed to get through this life-changing event without a heart attack.

           Not only was my car racing over that road, my heart raced and my adrenalin reached it’s peak as I left my house, even before getting behind the wheel.  You see, earlier in the day, while at the hospital the first time, the doctor said that the baby would not arrive until tomorrow.  So, my husband (a man) and the baby daddy, Andrew (another man) insisted that I go home to rest.  I argued with them but relented in the end.  (For the record, the doctor was a man too!)  MEN!  They wanted me to rest but, as soon as I arrived home from the first time at the hospital, Andrew called to tell me they had induced labor and the baby would be here in forty-five minutes.            

I had never gotten out of my lift chair so fast!  Maybe they were wrong. You can never tell when a baby will arrive.  God only knows how much I wanted to be there, everything is all in God’s timing. 

            I rushed out of the house yelling, “I will never listen to another man for as long as I live.” 

Only agreeing to go home because I had been awakened that morning at 3:00 am with a text message that read, “Stacy’s water broke and she is in an ambulance on the way to Danville.  It is the closest hospital with a NICU. The baby is coming early.”  

In my heart of hearts and in every prayer I prayed, over the last four months, I wanted to be there to witness first-hand the miracle of birth.  To see with my own eyes in real time and not on a video, the miracle of a life coming into the world was my greatest desire.  I have never given birth, nor have I ever witnessed a birth.  This was my best opportunity and the timing stunk. 

As an adoptive mother, it’s been a life-long feeling of being cheated out of things like pregnancy announcements, gender reveal parties and a personal story of labor and delivery.  When I tell people that my first baby weighed 25 pounds and was 33 inches long, they look at me in amazement. But after all, she was also two years, eleven months and 19 days old.  She had much more experience at being a kid than I had of being a parent. 

Adoptions can take much longer than nine months to get approval from the “powers that be” in order to get a child.  But, it can be mere hours from the time that you are told there is a baby for you, until that new baby arrives in your arms. Even then, in the back of my mind was the fact that I would always share that baby with another woman.

Though I felt cheated in so many ways and always had to share my children with other mothers, adoption was the number one way for me to have children to teach, to love on and to nurture.  So I sent out adoption announcements, have joked about how much my first child weighed and pondered the negative feelings in my heart.    

But wait, there’s more.  My first daughter’s adoption was contested by her maternal grandparents.  So, it took three years of applications, home studies and searching to find her, plus three years after being placed in our home, of court litigation, worry and prayer until final adoption was granted.  

I called her “Little Miss No Name” because the agency would not tell us her real name.  She was Kristen Smith to us and the adoption took so many years that I had to register her for kindergarten with her baptismal certificate.  We were not foster parents and we were not biological parents.  We had been granted custody temporarily by the court as her biological parents had relinquished rights.  Luckily, we had her baptized in our church in Boalsburg, soon after she came home to us. 

This nine-month thing with labor and delivery is a much more predictable time period, but even so, my daughter waited until she was 20 weeks along before taking a pregnancy test.  Now, only knowing I would be a grandmother again for fifteen weeks, time was moving way too fast. 

I desperately wanted to see the baby come into the world, but here I was at the hospital for a second time that day, knowing she had already arrived.  I couldn’t blame the baby, although she was supposed to arrive on February 20, long after our ten-day cruise to the Caribbean would have been over.  

          A good thing was that at least she decided to be born before we flew to Fort Lauderdale for that sailing, and it was just a 3 hour trip back to Danville from the Philadelphia Airport. I could picture if she decided to arrive in the middle of our cruise that I would insist on being lifted from the ship by helicopter, and flown to my daughter’s side. That is how much I wanted to see her born.

           Having just arrived back at the hospital, I ran as fast as a sixty three year old, overweight grandmother could run, through the hospital parking garage and then down the shiny floored corridor.  It wasn’t clear to me, yet, in what condition she came into the world, because she had been rushed directly from her mother to the NICU and even her parents were anxious to find out her condition. 

As I entered the delivery room, my daughter said, “You would have been so scared Mom.  It’s a good thing you weren’t here to see her.”  My ears were hearing her, but my brain was trying to put on the breaks and slow down. I was just starting to put on my Motherly, it’s going to be alright face.  Oh, Lord help me be brave, I whispered. 

Andrew, is like the son that I never had.  He and Stacy had been together, by this time, for at least ten years.  I sort of adopted him too when he and Stacy started dating.  In my eyes he is the best of the best, even if he is a man. 

He said, “Yeah, she was all blue they rushed her immediately to the NICU down the hall.  They won’t let us see her yet but said they would come back in as soon as possible.”  It was determined that there was something wrong with her breathing but the doctors didn’t know how much of a problem it would be. 

So, not much different than an adoption, we had to wait for answers. 

I parked myself in the chair beside Stacy’s bed to catch my breath and let my thoughts catch up to me.   

Did you see the baby, I asked my daughter.  

She thrust out her hands, closed her eyes and turned her head saying, “No, I couldn’t look and they rushed her right out.” 

Did you see the baby, I asked Andrew. 

Yes, I actually cut the cord, he said.  It happened so fast and they needed to get her directly into the NICU.  All I know is she was blue and wrinkly. 

We were together and so we waited.

 

 

 

 

 

Church! Who Needs it?

Many moons ago, (I whisper 1950's) when I was a kid, my mother used to say to me and my sisters, every Sunday, “I was glad when they said unto me, let us go into the house of the Lord.”

Frankly, I did not know why I should be happy just by going to church.  But, Mom and Dad seemed to know.  Each week my Dad polished our shoes and we got dressed in our Sunday best, and we went to church as a family.  I’ll tell you what, when I became a mother, that weekly event became much more of a chore than I remembered it was.  

One of my early memories was when I was maybe four or five years old.  I see in my mind's eye, my Mother, sitting on a chair in our living room.  She was beautiful with long dark hair and she wore a dress with a full skirt, that, when she sat on the edge of the overstuffed chair, the hem went nearly to the floor, showing only her crossed ankles in such a lady-like sitting position.

On her lap was a zither, which is a stringed instrument that she had borrowed from someone because she wanted to  learn to play Jesus Loves Me and a couple other songs for nursery school at church.  I was so proud of her.  I still remember, that was my Mommy, the teacher and she played a music thing. 

Can you recall an early memory of being in church or Sunday School?  

Some of you know how much I love butterflies.  I suppose my love of butterflies started in a Sunday School room at the First Baptist Church in Emporium.  The teachers had set up nature stations to see God's outdoor wonders, indoors.  

One of the stations was a large glass jar with grass on the bottom, a branch with some leaves standing from bottom to top diagonally in the jar and with holes cut in the metal lid for air to get in.    

On the middle of the branch was something that looked like a kind of nut, but it was sticking to the branch.  It was a butterfly cocoon and it took forever to change to a butterfly… and I thought that nothing would ever happen, but I remember being glad to go to church each week so we could see any changes.   

What a miracle that is to innocent young eyes.  I never saw the butterfly coming out of the cocoon, but one Sunday, the most beautiful yellow spotted butterfly was in the jar and the cocoon was empty.  Sort of like the empty tomb, I think.

Did you know that what is the end to a caterpillar is only the beginning to the Butterfly? 

When you were a kid, did you know why we should be “GLAD” to go into the house of the Lord?  

Even though we go to church each week with other like-minded people who become like family to us, It is actually a very personal experience going to church.  

Memories of my Mom with the Autoharp and butterflies in a glass jar, from a long ago experience of going to Sunday School... That's personal.  No one else has that memory in the same way as me.

As I remember, Sunday School and Day Camp were a lot of work for a kid. We had to remember our jackets at the end of the day, because the mornings were cool and the afternoons of VBS were warm.  I lost a couple jackets that way.  

Also, we had to learn a lot of things... like the order of the books of the Bible.  We had to memorize verses of the Bible and sometimes we had homework to talk with our Mom's and Dad's about Bible stuff.  

We learned to be outgoing by acting in plays portraying people in the Bible. And then, there was also for me personally, learning that Zachius was a bad man because he was a taxcollector in Jesus day!!  

My Dad was Shippen Township Tax Collector.  He wasn't a bad man. 

This book, The Bible, seemed to be very important in Sunday School and church.

 

One year, when we were a bit older (maybe 10), we were tasked with picking our favorite Bible verse during Day Camp.  We were to write the verse in raw alphabet macaroni and glue onto a wooden slab.  Then, we were to lacquer it, so it would last a long time.  

One of my haunting “things that never got done” from my childhood, was that I never was able to get lacquer to seal it.  Some of the macaroni letters were then eaten by tiny little bugs.  Such a heart ache for me. I didn’t do it 100% correctly. 

Can you remember something from childhood that you just couldn’t get done?  

Anyway, in choosing the verse, I wanted to be different.  Everyone was doing John 3:16, but I, Cathy Ostrum, had to be more original.  Some were tempted to just do the shortest verse in the Bible… "Jesus Wept", that would take less time and get them to the snack sooner.  But, for me, this task was personal.  I felt that I needed to be profound.  It would be something to last a long time and I wanted to write a verse in macaroni that would truly be my favorite, but I didn't really have a favorite.

Do you have any idea how difficult it is for a kid, with the whole Bible to choose from, to find a genuine, original, favorite verse?  

I went back and forth through the pages and did not have any idea what verse to choose.  Then, when I was about to say, I’ll just choose John 3:16… one POPPED right out at me  as if it was coming off the page for me to see.  

It was on the very top of the page at the left side of the book and the first verse of a chapter in Proverbs.  This verse, has profoundly resonated with me since then. It's the one I chose to write in macaroni.

Proverbs 3:1 – “My Son, Do not forget my teachings, but let your heart keep my commandments”.

This chapter in Proverbs tells you and me, each of us personally, HOW TO DO LIFE!  Following this recipe will bring you, eventually, to a closeness with the One True and Living God.

I'm asking a lot of questions, but did you ever notice that when you go to church, you are told what to do?  

Who wants to get out of bed, search for clothes to wear, that are most likely still in the laundry, get the kids ready, give up breakfast and guzzle your coffee to go somewhere that a person will stand in front of you to preach to you what to do and how to do it?

The preacher says, "Do love your neighbor."

The preacher says, "Don’t lie." 

The preacher says, "Do remember God’s teachings". 

The preacher says, "Don’t murder anyone".

There are absolutely so many rules.

Then at church, you learn that the RESPONSIBILITY for obeying these rules that you are told, by the preacher, falls directly on your shoulders because of something called "Free Will".

The Bible says in Matthew 5:13:  You are like salt for the whole human race…          REALLY?  THE WHOLE HUMAN RACE?

Then Matthew 5:14a says, "You are like the light for the whole world"….        REALLY?  THE WHOLE WORLD?

That, my friends is a whole lot of responsibility!!

Realizing that you have responsibility to be salt and light to the whole world and the whole human race is OVERWHELMING!  I can’t do it.  I can barely keep myself salty and lit!

Then, I reach back in my memory of all those early Sunday School times, and you can do this too, to the thought of my dear late Mother with that zither on her lap.  My sisters and I were her “whole world”.  She was being salt and light to her whole world. 

You see going to church develops that personal relationship with The one who SAVED the Whole Human Race.  Jesus Christ.  

Coming to church as often as is possible teaches you HOW to be the light for the whole world.  This little light of mine, I’m going to let it shine.  Hide it under a bushel NO.  I’m going to let it shine. And lessens the personal burden for us of being the light, by showing you that Jesus IS WAS and ALWAYS WILL BE the LIGHT OF THE WORLD.  Jesus Lives and Jesus watches over you and Jesus is The Way, the Truth and the Life. 

You can't learn all that by going to church once a year.  Your children can't learn all that by simply watching you be an example.  They can not see Jesus in your eyes and they cannot develop a close personal relationship with Jesus, unless we teach them through bringing them to church and following the rules ourselves and talking to them about our Faith in Jesus.

Folks, today, live in a different world from those little girls watching their Mom learn to play Jesus Loves Me on the zither.  But those memories of My Mom, the butterfly, the Bible verses and the songs....  That's what helps us to get through every worldly day.  

It is a totally different world for us as adults too, because we see everything through eyes of experience, rather than the innocent eyes of a kindergartner.  

That beautiful butterfly that I saw with innocent eyes, has become, because of my learning in church, the symbol for Jesus, who died and then Lives again. 

That beautiful butterfly coming out of the cocoon sixty years ago, has become the essence of the passing of a loved one from this life into a whole and pain free eternal life with Christ in Heaven.

And isn’t it wonderful that us little girls and boys, all grown up now, have this one place where we can come, as often as we want.  This one place where we can sit and remember and pray for the world and for OUR world, our families. 

This one place called Church, that runs on the rules and teachings of the Bible that NEVER changes and is as vital and alive now, as it was sixty, a hundred, two thousand years ago.

Surely, we can go into our closets at home and pray any time we want.  When we do, we feel so much closer to God and to those who have gone on to Glory before us.  

We talk about our day, we cry for things of the world and we ask forgiveness for whatever we may have done, that we don’t even know that we’ve done.  We pray for miracles and for peace.  

But to publicly come to this gathering place, where we can be supported by others and where we can support other Christians is a God-given freedom that is so PRECIOUS and a God given right that is indescribable to me. 

Experience has also taught me that we can not control some things in life.  Church experience has taught me ... that's OK....  It has taught me that when everything seems out of control on Earth, we still have the assurance that God is in control and that our God is Living and has given us the Holy Spirit to live in us daily.

If God is for us.... Who can be against us?

Have you ever wondered at the fact that while we serve a living, most holy and omnipotent God…. that he invites us to come to be with Him anywhere, any time, any place?

He says, “Suffer the Little Children to come unto me”.  

He touches lepers and the most unloved among us.

He forgives us and stands in the balance for us who are all sinners, before God Almighty.

Jesus shows us, each day, that knowing and coming closer to Him, in a deep and abiding relationship, gives us a special kind of internal peace that nonbelievers can never know.

It’s taken me much of my lifetime, but I think I finally understand why I’m happy when they say to me, let us go into the house of the Lord.

I have to admit, that doesn’t make it much easier to crawl out of bed on a relaxing summer day, or come out from under the covers on a cold winter morning in order to come to church.  It is also a bit daunting to come to church without my Mom and Dad telling me it’s time to get up and go.  And without having them with me here in this place.  Heck, no one even polishes my shoes any more.

But, coming to church is all about that personal relationship building and it is about getting ENCOURAGEMENT to face the rest of the world through the week, when things go wrong.  When you see the terrible news about evil that seems to happen every day, now.  

Every week, when you come into the presence of the Holy Spirit of God with like- minded Christians, your personal Hope is exemplified for yourself AND for the world.  

Your personal Joy is exacerbated by His Word and your personal strength is forged, as iron melts and then hardens..  un-bendable… undeniably strong and when planted firmly in the Grace of God, immovable.

Coming to church is the only way that you and I can maintain our “saltiness” and light personally, for each other and for the whole world. 

Coming to church for our weekly hope and encouragement from our living God is the only way that our light can remain bright and not hidden for the whole world to see.

Yes – I was glad, I am glad, when they said unto me, Let us go into the house of the Lord. 

Tell your little ones, tell your bigger ones, every chance you get, that you are glad when it's time to come to church.  

They will know why after a little while or maybe they will know all during their lifetime.

Butterfly Blessings for your week ahead.  Amen

Benediction:  Author unknown - "A Love Letter from Jesus:  My Child I am Jesus who loves you Unconditionally.  There is nothing you can do to make me love you more and there is nothing that you have done to make me close the door. For my love is whole, it is complete , It is Infinite.  You can never fully understand How much I Love you My child, you are so dear to me. You are like a jewel More precious than the finest Gold Just for you I suffered and died And one day I will take all of your Pain and sorrow Away and wipe every tear from your eyes. All I ask in return is that you love me and trust me.  From Your Savior Jesus.

Proverbs 3: 1-12

1 My son, do not forget my teachings, but let your heart keep my commandments.

² for length of days and years of life
    and peace they will add to you.

³ Let not steadfast love and faithfulness forsake you;
    bind them around your neck;
    write them on the tablet of your heart.
⁴ So you will find favor and good success^[a]
    in the sight of God and man.

⁵ Trust in the Lord with all your heart,
    and do not lean on your own understanding.
⁶ In all your ways acknowledge him,
    and he will make straight your paths.
⁷ Be not wise in your own eyes;
    fear the Lord, and turn away from evil.
⁸ It will be healing to your flesh^[b]
    and refreshment^[c] to your bones.

⁹ Honor the Lord with your wealth
    and with the first fruits of all your produce;
¹⁰ then your barns will be filled with plenty,
    and your vats will be bursting with wine.

¹¹ My son, do not despise the Lord's discipline
    or be weary of his reproof,
¹² for the Lord reproves him whom he loves,
    as a father the son in whom he delights.

Two Year Old Asks to "Go to the Cross"

You never know when your life event will be an example to others, so be on the alert at every turn.

Never in my wildest dreams would I have expected that my urine sample could be used as an example to a young man who was not known to me, but let me tell you exactly how that happened.

When I was applying for a new job, sometime in the aughts, I had to go through drug testing to be sure I was suitable for the position at this new company.  It was a sunny day, as I drove into the parking lot of the testing lab. 

I exited my car and looked for the proper door to enter, since I was unfamiliar with the building. 

In my search, I saw a young man, in his late teens or early twenties, and entered the lab testing building right behind him.  Both of us seemed to know the drill and after the technician checked our names and orders for which drugs to test, she gave us the proper specimen cups and sent us to the respective toilet areas.  The ladies room for me and the young man to the men's room for the same purpose.

As I came out of the bathroom, the technician was talking with the young man and she did not seem pleased.  During her excited lecture, she hurriedly reached my way, indicating that she wanted my specimen cup. 

As she took it in her hand, she held it closer to him and immediately said, "See, it is supposed to be warm, like this". 

The look on my face must have been priceless, and similar to the young man's, I must admit.  She finished checking me out of the building, as the man waited for her next direction. 

I was sort of in shock.  Never would I have guessed that my urine would be an example of anything public.  Wow!

There is the reason that people say, "You can't make these things up". And, I really enjoy writing about true life events.  Some make people laugh.  Some make people cry, but truth is better than fiction and God does have a sense of humor.

Take for instance the time when our church choir was getting ready to sing at the community church service on the fifth Sunday of the month. Something happened with the technology that morning. 

The choir was standing in front of the church and we were all ready to belt out the amazing choral number that the nine of us had prepared.  However, this was a different church than usual and the music would not queue up on the sound system because of some glitch.

While the director and a member of the choir went to help the situation and get the music playing, there was an awkward silence as the choir looked at the congregation and the congregation looked at the choir. 

The pastor broke the silence and asked if anyone knew any good jokes.  Not being shy to speak out, this was a great time for me to fill in the awkward silence with a story about my granddaughter who is wonderful, vivacious, smart and beautiful.  She is also two-years old and the absolute sunshine in my life.

So, I brazenly spoke up and said, "Have you heard about my little granddaughter?  She is two years old and since I am the part-time secretary for Grace United Methodist Church, she comes to the church with me on occasion when I'm folding bulletins or whatever. 

At this Easter season, there is a life-sized cross that stands prominently in the church sanctuary and her Pappy took her to see it the other day. 

We have a rather large sanctuary with huge stained glass windows and this tiny toddler walked about fifty feet down the center isle, almost in slow motion, with her eyes fixed on the lifelike cross in the center of the altar area.

She is only about two and a half feet tall. So, this large cross made a very big impression, as she looked, for the first time in her life, at the greatest of Christian Symbols.  The look in her equally large eyes was wonderful for a grandmother to see.  The awe and majesty were prominent.

When we went back in to my office, I took a couple small wooden crosses down from the bookshelf and let her play with them for a bit.  The porcelain ones stayed on the shelf, as she had already tried to clap while holding two pieces of my porcelain nativity, at Christmas.  The camel did not fair very well in that incident.

At two years old, she is more verbal then most, so as we went home she repeated the word cross a few times and I talked about this being the symbol of Jesus's love for her and me.  As we passed by a couple churches, she said, "Cross" at each. 

I thought this was a good lesson that would have to be repeated through the next few years in order for it to firmly stick in her mind.  I wanted her to remember, even after I'm not here to tell her, that the cross is a great symbol of love.  But she was proving to me that it was starting to stick, already.

This was the beginning of her understanding that we should all "go to the cross" at some point in our lives.  She may not understand why, just yet, but that will come the more times she actually does "go to the cross".

After that day, whenever she sees a church, while we are riding in the car, she will say, "Cross".  Remember that she is only two and has a limited vocabulary, when she wants to go with me to my work place, she says, "Go to Cross"? 

So, I will take her "to the Cross" at every opportunity I have left, just so that she can learn about the LOVE that poured out from that Cross for HER and for me on that Good Friday."

This is the example that I told the congregation that day.  They seemed to enjoy the story and as I finished this life example, the sound was also fixed and the choir was able to sing the song we had prepared. 

A couple weeks later, on Easter Sunday, no one remembered what song the choir sang that day, or that there had been an issue with the sound system, but at least two people commented and remembered the story about my granddaughter.  They asked, "Is this the "Cross" Granddaughter"? 

I have to admit that I like telling this story of my granddaughter as being a good example, rather than the story of the first good example I remember.

This leads me to ask you, what is the story (or two) of your best examples in life?  You're welcome to comment here.

Butterfly Blessings,
Cathy

Exercise in Writing: "B is for Bible"

Back in the "nineteen hundreds", even as I was in grade school, writing was something that I wanted to do.  I wrote programs for my mother's mission society at church, I wrote an Easter Message which I presented and I really loved going to the library to research books for writing projects at school.

In my twenties and early thirties I enrolled in English and Writing classes at Penn State University but as a "non-degree" student because I didn't have the time for full time studies.  But I took the classes because it was my feeling that someone had to "train" me to write.  Concentrating on that art, I did have an article published in August 1989.  Therefore, I am a professional writer, as I received $50 for that article.

The publication was, State College the Magazine and the title of my article was, "Building a Family: Adoption as an Option".  In my mind, my writing career was started but I held the magazine in my hands for the first time, two weeks before my family and my life would be changed forever.

My writing career had to be put on hold when my husband was hit by a car and suffered severe brain damage on August 23rd, 1989.  For the next eleven years I would raise my two adopted daughters as a single mother while care giving to my disabled husband, now unable to parent with me.

Now, at sixty-five years old, looking in the "rear-view" mirror, I see that writing is my gift from God and that during all the years hence that first article, I was working on my "research" for topics that He wants me to write about.

Recently I was gifted by the book, "A to Z Devotions for Writers".  The author, Pamela D. Williams, is a new friend and the wife of a pastor.  This book is exactly what I needed to encourage my writing, again.

Here is my exercise for B is for Bible: Writing from God's Word.  (I hope you enjoy and make comments below.)  

Writing Application:  Psalm 102:18 - "Let this be written for a future generation, that a people not yet created may praise the Lord."
How I feel it applies to writing as a ministry.

All through the ages there have been stories passed from generation to generation.  Some even took the time to chisel the stories into stone walls.  Because there were no written words, they told the stories in pictures.

The above verse tells us that Praising the Lord is so important that even people "not yet created" must hear the truth about who the Lord is so they may praise his name.

My mind is starting to slip a bit in the memory department.  There are so many things that I want to tell my Grandchildren and I'm sure that I will not live long enough to tell them all that I want.

Having the writings to refer to following death, it is like having your loved one right here, with you.

Even though the mind is slipping, I still remember my grandmother singing praises to Jesus and going to church every Sunday with her white haired sisters. Sitting a couple rows behind her in church, the picture of their three heads bobbing ever so slightly, remains a vivid part of my memories.  I remember the calendar towels she gave us each Christmas, too.  I don't have them any more but there must have been at least ten years worth.

If my ministry is to teach my children and my children's children and so forth, about Christ our savior... And I know that it is my ministry to do this.  Then writing my stories of Faith and Experience is vital to helping move my children's children and many future generations, firmly into the arms of our Lord and Savior.

If only they will read and accept and know that I speak the truth.  If you can't believe your Grandmother, who can you believe?

The Real Cathy

Great Grandpa's 85th Birthday Cruise

Eighty Five years of age is something to celebrate.  BIG TIME!  Little did we know that my Dad would be celebrating in the Caribbean without us.

Let me back up just a little.

Months earlier Steve and I decided that we wanted to cruise with some friends on the Royal Princess, just as we had a couple years earlier for our honeymoon.  

Cruising the Caribbean is so much fun, hopping from island to island on an all inclusive resort with casino gambling to boot. We enjoy playing cards and we don't spend any more than we budget.  (cough, cough)  Well, at least not most of the time. 

All the delicious food and drinks we can ingest are aboard ship for our consumption.  There is Las Vegas style entertainment every night and all we have to do is walk down to the theater deck for that.

We love walking around the deck and stopping from time to time to watch the beautiful sunsets.  Please note that we stay too long in the casino and never make it out of bed to watch the sunrise.  So, the sunsets are even more beautiful.     

Ok, so we set up a "group cruise" with Princess Cruises and three pairs of our good friends, signed on to cruise with us.  Non of them knew each other, but because we knew them all, there was no question but that a great time would be had by all.

Then, I got the brilliant idea that because my Dad's eighty-fifth birthday was happening during the dates of our cruise, we would invite him to go along.  

It was our birthday gift to him.  My Dad is so youthful, we knew he would have a great time and we would be there to watch and be sure he didn't get lost in the Caribbean.  He is very outgoing and would love meeting all our friends. It would be a B L A S T!

So, it was all set.  The embarkation passes were printed.  The airplane reservations were made and we drove to Philadelphia. 

This was the day before embarkation from Fort Lauderdale, Florida, on the Royal Princess.  The same ship we cruised on our honeymoon.  We were to fly out of Philly airport early the next morning.   

I was so excited that I found it very difficult to sleep that night.  Just like a kid waiting for Christmas day. 

That is why I was awake at 3:00 am.  

My cell phone was charging on the night stand which was on the other side of my husband.  But something in my heart said that I needed to take a look at it right THEN.  

So, I poked Steve and said, "Are you asleep"?

I'm not sure why he was so grumpy when he said, "Not any more".

As quietly as I could, I said, will you hand me my cell phone.  I didn't want to wake my Dad who was sleeping in the other bed.

As Steve handed me my cell phone, it vibrated and a text message came in.  It was from our future son-in-law.

Andrew said, "I'm not sure if you will get this message before you fly out, but I wanted to let you know that Stacy's water broke and she is in the ambulance on the way to Danville to have the baby".

I was in shock.  We were supposed to go on our cruise and have another 3 weeks before the baby was due.

Was this really happening?

I jumped out of bed, but was still as quiet as I could be and went into the living area of the hotel suite we were in.  Steve followed me out wondering what was going on.

There we were, in our pajamas, in a hotel in Philadelphia, and my daughter was having her baby!  

I called Andrew to be sure that it wasn't a "false alarm" and he assured me that they had been to the hospital and because she was only 34 weeks and they had no NICU at Lewistown hospital, the ambulance was taking her to Danville, where they did have a NICU in case it was needed.

After I talked with him, I stood there with my mouth open and my cell phone in my hand while my brain tried to process everything.

There was one thing for sure, I had to return to Danville and I couldn't go on the cruise.  But, Steve and my Dad could go. 

Steve looked at me like I had two heads and said, "I can't go without you".  

Just then Dad came out of the bedroom and asked what was happening.  After the explanation and while Steve and I were still trying to sort out plans, he just sat very quietly.  But, his brain was churning.

We did take out the trip insurance for any emergency, so I felt fairly certain that would not be an issue.  But, just as we had decided to pack up the car and head for Danville, Dad had a different take on the subject.

He looked very calculating and said, "Well, I can't think of anything that a great grandpa can do in a case like this.  So, I would like to continue on the cruise". 

Another little shock went through my body.

I was about to be a grandmother for the third time, not sure of the outcome for this premature baby and my 85 year old Dad wanted to get on to an airplane, by himself, and go on a cruise to the Caribbean.

This was all my brilliant idea.  Without me going along, I was sure he would get lost down there and I might never see him again.  

What a conundrum I was in!  But, how do you tell your Dad, "No".

I couldn't.

That is when I traveled with him, on the hotel shuttle, to the airport and made sure he was at the proper gate for the proper plane to take off and land at the proper airport.  I knew he would at least make it that far because it was nonstop!  

As I waited with him at gate 22, I made sure, three times, that he had his passport and his embarkation papers.  I also gave him the cell phone numbers of each couple going with him from our party and my planner book.  

With a lump in my throat, I asked him to journal in it on each day and tell me everything he did on his cruise.  

To tell you the truth, I stopped short of pinning his name, address and destination on his shirt pocket because I didn't want to embarrass him.

Then I said, well, I really should get back to the hotel.  I gave him a tight hug and a kiss, then walked away slowly, turning around three times to check on him.  (Hey...it's what an older daughter does.  Don't laugh)

I rode the shuttle back to the hotel where Steve was waiting.  I was still in disbelief and still in shock.

Text messages are wonderful things.  So, I got on our group text (forgetting that Dad got these texts too) and explained to my sisters, nieces and older daughter that Stacy was having her baby and I had just put grandpa on a plane where he was no longer in my control. 

My sisters were not pleased with the situation either, as indicated in their texts. (they also forgot that Dad would get these texts as soon as he landed)  They said, "Oh, Cathy, I don't know about this."  

However, my nieces texted that Grandpa "would be just fine" and he "would probably have a better time without us, than he would with us".  I wasn't quite sure what to make of that, but went with the encouragement.

As we were driving to Danville, a few hours after sending these text messages, Dad evidently landed in Florida and replied, "Will you girls calm down?  I will be just fine, just like my granddaughters say".  

At this point, there was nothing more to do but drive to Danville and wait for my newest granddaughter to arrive.  Below are some pictures and the daily report of what grandpa did on his cruise to the Caribbean.  Who would you say was right?  His daughters or his granddaughters?


BIRTHDAY CRUISE:

DAY ONE:  EMBARKATION
Muster call @ 3:15
Gathered with life jackets at Princess Theater
Dinner with the gang at 5:30 
Concert
To Room 

DAY TWO:  AT SEA
Dawn and Bob write:  Missing you but hoping all goes well w/Stacy!  Love.
Sharon & Tom write:  Wish you were here.  I hope all is well. Prayers are with you.
Karen & Ed write:  Miss you - talking about you!  Congrats grandparents! prayers with you!
Dad writes:  Having a great meal in the Concerto Room.  Everyone misses youse guys.
Listened to talk about shore excursions.
Joined the Pop Choir

DAY THREE - AT SEA
0700 - Visited fitness center but decided a one mile walk around the deck worked well.  Plus walking from room to events was good exercise. 
1000 - Ran into a lady (Glenda from VA) that I followed thru boarding for over an hour.  We talked & I had a picture with her
1300 - Pop Choir rehearsal
1730 - Formal Dinner

DAY FOUR - ARUBA
0700 - up to fitness deck, then to breakfast
Relaxing day.  
Did not go ashore to Aruba
Had lunch and a lady asked to sit at my table -- Mary  from Minesota.
1730 - Evening meal - Sharon not there, Dawn & Bob not there.  Karen and Ed were there.
1900 - Went to evening show with a fantastic lady singer & impressionist Christiana Bianco?

DAY FIVE - Bonaire, Caribbean Netherlands
0700 - Breakfast 
0800 - Walk around Bonaire - A lady talked to me about my hat so I had a photo with her - Janice from Boston.  
0900 - Did some reading on deck
Observed game of bean bag toss
Met Christina Bianco and had a photo with her.  Bianco is top singer and impressionist (see above)
1200 - Brunch time
1300 - Princess Pop Choir rehearse, photo with Director Renee
 1730 -  Dinner at Concerto with all of our friends. Dawn had info and photos of Stacy & baby Skylar.  Photos of each couple and since I needed a partner, I asked our waitress Eugenia Ostapenko to sit with me and I had a photo with her.

DAY SIX:  Grenada
0700 - Walk around exercise deck
0800 - Breakfast with Karen and Ed
0930 - Reading while waiting to dock
1100 - Practice with chorus
1200 - Eat Lunch - small today
1300 - Off to Grenada, walked around shore stores, no purchases
Talked with a couple from GA.  The man was in military who served till retirement.  Now they go on cruises regularly.
1730 - Eating time
1900 - Hawley Magic Show - Fantastic

DAY SEVEN:  Dominica (DOM-IN-EEK-A)
0700 - up and at'm
Talked with a Korean Vet from New Orleans
Not going ashore - Leaving port @ 3:30
1000 - No chorus practice today
spent morning reading
attended bean bag toss
1200 - lunch on Horizon Court
1300 - Cabin Rest
1400 - Reading my Kindle while wandering around ship
Hot weather outside
1530 - all aboard
1630 - as a Casino VIP - I received a free bottle of wine
1730 - Time for supper
All in attendance except Cathy and Steve
1930 - Saw Stage show - singers & dancers "What the world needs now" 
Sat with four folks from Canada
2000 - Bed

DAY EIGHT:  St. Thomas, U.S. Virgin Islands
DAD'S EIGHTY FIFTH BIRTHDAY
0700 - Put on my 1932 shirt
0730 - Breakfast
0830 - Met a guy who was also born in 1932 - May
0930 - Went into St. Thomas
Called Cathy, then Lori, plus texted all I was at St. Thomas
Purchased two items only:  A T-shirt for me & a baby souvenier shirt for Skylar
1230 Light Lunch
1300 Relaxing afternoon
1400 Finished my kindle books
1630 All Aboard
1730  Evening meal - Birthday Time -- all of us there. 
1930 Showtime - Alley Cats Quartet -- Be Bop from "50s - 60s"
2000 Retired

DAY NINE:  AT SEA
0730 - Breakfast
         Met a young gal from Romania - Camella - Had a photo with her.
1000 - Culinary Demo & tour of Galley
1100 - Talked to Elena - a Jr. Comptroller who acted in a photo with me, pretending to give me advice
1230  Pop Choir Rehearsal
1400  Met a lady in a room where we were reading - She reminded me of the Carter relatives.  She asked about my cruise and I had a photo with her - Shirley from VA
1700 Pop Choir Concert -- Well attended, good response from the crowd.
1730  Supper with all our friends
1930  Singers/Dancers Spectacular Show Excellent
2130  Back to room

DAY TEN - Princess Cays, Bahamas
0700 - Breakfast
0900 - Read Articles for Leaving the ship tomorrow
           Pack up
1000 - Went ashore to Princess Cays, Ate lunch there
One of the crew who met us at our evening meal & served for Breakfast talked to me with a big smile.  I had a photo with her making believe she was chastising me.  Litinka from China

DAY ELEVEN - Fort Lauderdale
0800 - Disembarked Fort Lauderdale, Fl
     Got a room at the Holiday Inn Express at Crown Plaza, Ft. Lauderdale Airport.  Stayed the night for a 0700 - flight the next day

Monday - Arrived in Philadelphia, Jon & Kim pick me up and go to Cathy and Steve's

The end.

Ps:  Who knew they had a fitness room aboard ship?  Let alone that 0700 hours was a real "wake up" time.