Walk This Road With Me, Will You?

Chapter 1
Well July 2012 has been what I will call the most life-changing month in my life of almost 55 years. The sheer fact that I am laying my life open for anyone and everyone to see is amazing in itself. If you know me well, you are aware that I am a pretty private person when it comes to my family and I. However lately I have learned that unless we share our stories, there is not much of a chance of helping others who may need our story to help them through theirs. 

This July has brought about two significant events in my life. One is spiritual and the other is physical. My spiritual journey is the one that I am most excited to tell you about. But in order to get your attention, I will begin with the physical one. 

A week ago I went to a pulmonary doctor because I had an abnormal chest xray. He ordered a PET scan and today he called me with the results. A mass in my right lung which he is 90% sure is cancer. The scan came back "highly suspicious" so he wants me to have the mass surgically removed. No,I have never smoked. But I have been on a drug for rheumatoid arthritis in which one of the side effects is possible cancer. The scan showed no other areas of concern so he feels that it is contained in my lung. I have an appointment scheduled to see a surgeon next week to get more details. 

I will be honest. The fear tries to creep in. How could it not? No one likes to hear that dreaded "C" word. I have spent the last week waiting for the results, hoping and praying for the best. And while I am so thankful it is only in one area, I am aware that I have a hard road ahead. If you are willing to listen, I will bring you along with me every step of the way. I need for you to come with me if you will. I need for you to say prayers for my family and I. Most of all, I am hoping that someone will be helped by my story. It is the sole reason for telling it.
I want you to know that I am ok. Really I am. I am hopeful and very optimistic that the surgery will take care of this. I feel prepared to walk whatever path I am destined to. 
The fear that tries to creep in doesn't last long. I know what to do. And it works. I have not always been able to say that about fear. I have had fears that were different than this one and they almost paralyzed me. But I have discovered the answer to paralyzing fear. I am confident that it will work every time. And In the times when I am weak and cannot seem to get it under control, I know that there are those who will remind me of the One who can destroy fear and replace it with a peace that is unexplainable. 
There are some of you who know exactly what I mean. This blog is for the ones who don't. My story is for the ones who have no use for God. Or church. Or anything religious for that matter. It is for the ones who have shut the door. The ones who just don't think about what happens after death. The ones whose fears paralyze them at times. The ones who are searching and searching for something that they just can't seem to find. The ones who desperately want to believe but the confusion just makes it seem impossible. I know. You are the ones I need with me on my journey. I want to tell you my story. I want to share what my search has led me to. There is no confusion. It's very simple. It's all real. It's all true. I would not tell you that if it wasn't so. 
It is what's going to take me through this.

When I Live On A Mountain

When I live on a mountain, I will not miss a chance of getting up early to greet the gift of a new day.


I will grind my whole coffee beans and use fresh cream from my cow and a little real sugar:)


I will sit on my porch, sip my coffee, and stare at the sun coming up over my mountain.


I will listen to the birds sing and thank Him.


Before the dew disappears, I will walk up my mountain, Eli by my side, to gather wildflowers in the Spring.


If it is Winter, I will gather firewood.


If it is raining I will put on my boots and raincoat and go anyway. I will lift my head back, close my eyes and feel the splashes on my face. I will taste the drops on my tongue. I will consider this a gift from Him.


In the snow I will stand quietly and cry for the beauty.


I will eat and drink what He gives me from the Earth.


The wild ones will know that I am their friend.


We will watch over each other from a distance.


The days will be the same but none will be routine.


In the evening I will sit on my porch and watch as the sun leaves.


I will listen to the night's chorus and thank Him.


Then I will sleep and think of nothing. I will just sleep.


When I open my eyes, I  will feel the same joy to see the day.


I will be glad to do it all over again.


When I live on a mountain.

This Thing Called Joy

This morning was different down the lane. It started out routine, Eli needing a walk, I needing some exercise. I always pray as I walk. I don't know, something about the lane does that to me. More than not I cry. Sometimes the things I pray about overwhelm me with sadness. Someone sick. Someone discouraged. A situation. A death. When someone says "pray for me", it is most often because they need help. You almost never hear, "will you pray for me, my life is fantastic right now!" There seems to be so much pain all around. It casts a shadow on life. So even as I am thanking and asking Him for the good, my spirit still hurts for the sad. I know that this is normal. I just want the joy to outweigh the sadness. It seems funny that I have to remind myself of the joy yet I need no reminder of the sadness.    When I pray, I always thank Him first, admittedly not really feeling much joy, knowing that the sad prayers will follow. And the crying. I am not proud if this, I am just being honest:) 
This morning was different. As I thanked Him, I began to feel something. Not the usual sadness, but something different. How do I describe it?   An awareness. A knowledge. A bubbling up of something inside of me. Joy. I remember that feeling. I felt it all the time when I was a child. It was the feeling of being safe, the feeling of trusting that my father would make sure that everything was alright. I remember feeling sad at times but the joy was always there. I lost that somewhere along this journey called life. I didn't realize how much I have missed it.   
My steps got quicker. I felt a strength that I rarely feel. I started the sad prayers. I had much to pray about this morning. A family who just buried their mom yesterday. Another family already going through the unimaginable pain of Alzheimer's disease who had yet another tragic event happen during the night. A friend in a bad situation. Sadness. Usually by now I would be a blubbering, sad, helpless-feeling mess. Now don't misunderstand me, there is nothing wrong with crying and feeling sad. There is absolutely a place for it. But there is something wrong when that sadness turns into helplessness. I felt the sadness. But, on this day, I also felt the joy. I wasn't crying. I felt strong. I prayed with an awareness. I began to realize that when we pray, we should pray with the knowledge that He is listening. We should pray with authority and a boldness that shows we trust HIm. Even when it seems like things are falling apart all around us and we feel that He is not listening to us, He's got this. That's hard. But we have a choice to wallow in helplessness or rest in knowing that whatever happens, it is going to be alright. As a child I believed this. And I had joy. Pure and simple joy.
I want to get back to that. I don't want to have to remind myself of the joy, I want it to  never leave. Sadness? It will always be with me. So overwhelming at times that I am aware that joy may not be felt for a season. But I am learning a secret. It's the knowledge that if I trust with abandon and never look back, the joy will always flicker and never die out. It will always flame up and conquer the sadness, just when I need it the most. I am trusting that My Father will make sure of it. And that thought alone brings me the most incredible joy imaginable. 

My Dream

I rarely dream. This one was so vivid, so real, I need to tell you about it. 
It was night. It was dark. I was driving, alone. I came to a stop and knew that I had to turn right. There were no other cars on the roads. I made the turn and began to pick up speed. The roads were familiar but I can't tell you where I was. I knew that I was going to close my eyes. I was not sleepy. I was going fast. I felt like this was really happening. I closed my eyes. I knew that in a few seconds I would run off the side of the road. I felt it happen. I was aware that I could open my eyes any second and pull the car back on the road. I chose not to do that. I felt the jerking and shaking of the car as it plowed off the road and into whatever would be. I didn't slow down. The jerking and shaking got worse. The noise was deafening. I felt calm. I remember wondering when it was going to hurt. I waited for the pain. I was not afraid. I wanted this to be happening. It felt like this lasted forever, the jerking, the noise, the waiting. Then I suddenly woke up. My heart was racing. I could remember every detail of the dream. As I tried to make sense of it, at first I was disturbed. Did I want to die? I didn't think I wanted to die, I really love life. What could it mean? 
For the rest of the night and into the morning, I re-lived the dream over and over. For some reason I didn't want to forget it. Have you ever tried to remember a dream the next day and couldn't for the life of you? Even though I couldn't make sense of it, I knew that it was important for me not to forget it. The next day as I was telling my husband about it, a strange thing began to happen. I was beginning to understand what I believe the dream meant for me. 
I didn't realize it for a long time, but I have always been a controller of my life. I thought if I did this just right and did that just right, I would always have control of what goes on in my life and in the life of those that I loved. I thought that there was nothing that I could not fix. Just hand it over to Vicky, the fixer, and everything will be all right. Then life began to throw some things at me that I couldn't fix. That I couldn't control. The people I loved the most were being attacked. Cancer. Alzheimer's. Depression. Anxiety. Drug addiction. Identity. These were just too big for me. I didn't know how to fix them. I was devastated. I had lost control and that was very scary for me. 
When I think back, I wonder now, who in the heck did I think I was? To think that I had the power to actually control my life and the lives of others? Really?  And where had I placed God in all of this? I have been "churched" all of my life. I have always believed in God but I had a problem with trusting Him. If I allowed myself to trust, then I didn't feel in control. Besides, He didn't seem to be answering any of my prayers anyway. How could I trust Someone who I believed turned a deaf ear to my cries? I would wear the religious name for many years but I was unconvinced that He really cared about me and the affairs of my life.
Some people can go through life and never even have the desire to really seek the truth. They are content to believe and embrace whatever was taught to them or whatever they made their minds up about early on, even if it didn't make much sense. I have often wished I was like that. Life would be a lot easier. However I am not. I have questioned everything I have ever thought I believed at some point or another. I have gone down to the very depths of my soul and asked myself some very hard questions. Do I believe there is a God? That answer has always been unchanging for me. Nowhere in me is the belief that there is not One. A Godless universe and world makes no sense to me. My mind reasons that everything is too perfect to have just "happened". So if I believe in a Master Creator, as amazing as that is, what else do I believe? Why did He put us here? There must be a reason. Are we here for a purpose? There must be a plan. It makes no sense to believe otherwise. I think about the Bible and all of the incredible stories and I have heard over the years. Did it all really happen? Did this God really create an earth for us to live on, providing everything we need, giving us the ability to love, hate, be sad, and joyful? Did He later destroy the earth by a great flood? Was Noah a real person? Was Mary really a virgin when she had Jesus? Is He really the Son of God? Was He really who He said He was? Could He heal? Was it possible for Him to teach all of that in the short time He was here? Did He really love like that? Did He die on a cross? For us? And come back to life? Did that happen? 
Some say we can never know the truth about it all. Doubters try to reason it away. Some of us just never think about it. I am not that person. I have to be settled about it. Once and for all.


The way I see it I have a choice. I can believe that:
There is no God. This all just "happened". There is no reason for us to be here. This life is all we have. It's all about us and whatever it takes to make ourselves happy. Why be concerned for others? When it's over, it's over. And that's all there is to it. Live for today because there really is no tomorrow.


Or I can believe this:  
There is a God. It all really happened. He has a plan. We are here for a purpose. It is not just about us. We are here to share ourselves with others. 
His Son is the way for us all. It only takes that belief, by faith, for us to live forever. We can live forever.


I ask myself, which one of these choices do I make? Which is the one that I truly believe, way down deep in the very pit of my being? And in asking myself that question I find that I really have known the answer all along.


If I believe any of it, then I believe it all.  


I rarely open up. But this revelation that is changing my life is so vivid, so real, I need to tell you about it. It has been night for so long for me. I have often felt alone in my thinking. I am at a place where I know I need to make a turn. The right turn. I want to close my eyes and pick up speed. I want to trust Him with abandon and never look back. I know that at any second I can open my eyes and pick up that control again, but I choose not to. I realize that I will be jerked and shaken and life will be deafening and painful at times, but I want to stay calm and unafraid. I want to trust Him for what seems like forever. I want this to happen. And just as suddenly as I die, I want to wake up, heart racing, remembering every detail, re-living every promise, never forgetting that it is He and only He who is in control of every aspect of my life.


Even my dreams.

Always Believe The Child

I can't get something off of my mind these past few days. That's how I know that I need to write it down and share it. It involves my 4 year old grandson Chandler. He spent the night with me a couple of nights ago. When Amber and Dale brought the boys to stay, Chandler was unusually quiet. Sometimes he gets that way when he is in one of his "moods", but this time was different. He stayed that way the whole evening, not talking much, not eating, not playing which was highly out of the ordinary for him. The only thing he complained of was a sore throat. He felt a little warm so after a dose of Tylenol, he was ready for bed. He didn't balk once about bedtime, again highly unusual for his always wide-open little self. He was asleep in no time. I said a prayer that he would feel better and went to bed early myself. Sometime in the middle of the night, he came and wanted to get in bed with me. He wanted to be right in my arms, so that is where he slept. Around dawn, as the sun was just peeking through the window, I looked at Chan and his eyes were wide open and he was staring at the window. It startled me a little that he was awake, he had been so still that I was sure he was asleep. He didn't feel feverish which was a relief. "Chan, what's wrong?" He didn't answer me and his gaze never left the window. Worried, I asked again, "Chandler, are you ok?" Still staring, he nodded his head. "Does your throat hurt?" No response. "What are you thinking about, buddy?" At this point a tiny smile came across his lips and he said, "I can't tell anybody." My stomach lurched and the red flags started popping up. Trying to keep my breath steady, I said, "You can tell Nanny anything, buddy. If you're worried about something it makes you feel better to tell adults who love you. We can help you." He was silent as he continued to stare at the window. I tried again. "What are you thinking about, Chan?" I wasn't prepared for his answer. Without blinking and in a soft whisper he replied, "God."

By now the sun was streaming brightly through the blinds. As his little body laid against me I asked, "What about God?" Still gazing at the sun, his sweet, innocent four year old voice said "He made all of us." We laid there for a while in silence, both of us staring at the beautiful rays. It was one of those moments where you knew that something supernatural was taking place. Now if you know me well, you are aware that I have done much soul-searching over the course of my life, always searching for answers about spirituality and religion, begging for something to make sense, longing to know the truth. While I so want to share my faith, one of the biggest fears in my life is that I will come across as overly religious because I have seen how that turns away people who are so desperately seeking hope. I have asked God many times to give me a "sign", to let me know somehow that everything will be ok and that He is in complete control of all of this. I have learned that the signs He gives can be so easily missed if I am not careful. In recent years I have come to understand faith and grace a little better and it brings me a peace that I cannot explain. I will never have all of the answers I seek but I do know something that is most important for me to believe. There is a God. And He made all of us. And if you don't believe me, just ask my sweet little four year old buddy :)

The Shortcut

I took a shortcut this morning. I had taken my husband his breakfast sandwich and I needed to mail a card so I ended up taking a shortcut down Bell Street. Haven't been down that street in years and don't really know what made me go that way today. Bell Street. My grandfather used to run a fish market/ grocery store on the corner there, years ago when I was a girl. As soon as I turned onto the street and was passing the corner where the store once stood, the memories began to flood my mind. The tears were unexpected. My heart lurched as I spotted the incline in the pavement where my siblings and I used to run up and down. We were so little. The memory was vivid. I literally almost had to pull over on the side of the road, my heart was beating so. Suddenly I remembered walking into the store, my Papa most often sitting at the old piano, playing a tune. The fish counter was on the right and I would always walk to it first and stare into the glassy eyes of the fish. It's funny to think of now, but I remember feeling sorry for them for some reason. I've never told anyone that. Strange what goes on in the mind of a child. I would then move to the magical candy counter with it's tempting array of any kind of candy you can imagine. BB Bats, Hot Balls, Mary Janes, Kits, you name it. I don't remember eating a lot of it though. We got a piece every now and then. I still love to see this kind if candy when I happen upon a "country store". Once in a while I will eat a Mary Jane just so that I can remember.

The best part of this memory is running up the stairs to where my grandmother was. My Nanny. To try to describe the feelings I have for my Nanny would be impossible. I didn't know anyone like her and have never met anyone like her since. I didn't know back then how special she was. All I knew was that I loved her. And that she loved me back. She was a quiet lady. And gentle. So gentle. I remember the way she used to wash my face. I can close my eyes and feel it. No matter how dirty my face was, she was always so gentle. I loved to spend the night with her, there above the store. Her bed was so high. I remember her helping me say my prayers and then she would be silent, kneeling there, for the longest time. And she would cry. I remember looking at her and wondering why she was crying. She would do the same thing when I sat with her in church. I was raised in a Pentecostal Holiness church so you can imagine that it got a little loud at times. But my Nanny was never loud. She just silently wept. I never heard her raise her voice. I remember her kindness to others. I remember her patience. I remember how she used to treat everyone the same. I learned a lot about Jesus from her. My desire is to see my Nanny again some day. I want to ask her why she was crying. And I want to thank her for the impact she had on my life without her even knowing it.

The older I get the more I realize just how precious our memories are. When I am having a sleepless night, I go back to my childhood and re-live the details of it. I feel so thankful to be able to say that my past is a place that brought me joy. I wouldn't go back there so much if it wasn't. I haven't always thought that. I have had times where I was bitter and confused about some of the aspects of my past. I can honestly say now that I wouldn't trade any moment of it, the good and the hard. I see the good as a bonus and the hard as a necessity. Both make us who we are.

I'm glad I took that shortcut this morning.

Giving Thanks For All Of My Gifts.

I'm sitting here this Thanksgiving Eve, my cooking finished for the day. It's quiet in here as my husband is reading on his Kindle and my dog Eli is worn out from all of the food-begging he did today:) I am full. And it's not my stomach, although I had a good supper. I feel full in my heart. When I think of all the gifts I have been given so far in this life, I feel almost unworthy. Like they are too good to be true. They are gifts that I often take for granted, yet they are so precious. Money had nothing to do with these gifts, my Creator gave every one of them to me for free. For that I will forever be thankful.

----I'm thankful that God brought me and a boy from the rough side of the tracks together about 35 years ago and that through lots of ups and downs, we are more in love now than ever. He is a man who loves unconditionally. He is everything to me. I'm thankful that we are growing older together. Thank you God for the gift of my husband.

---I'm thankful that I have a daughter who is just as beautiful on the inside as she is on the outside. I'm thankful that she is the kind of Mother to her boys that assures me that they will grow up never doubting her love for them. She will never know how proud I am of her for standing up for what she believes in and for working so hard to try to make a difference in other's lives by being real and honest. For that, a parent could not be more thankful. Thank you God for the gift of my daughter.

---I'm thankful for my son who will never know how much joy he has brought to my life. I've cheered him on through his triumphs and I've cried with him through his struggles and I admire him for the way he has handled both. His unwavering faith in God is a constant encouragement to me. I'm thankful that no matter what he may face in this life, he will ALWAYS know where his hope lies. Thank you God for giving me a son who teaches me what it means to have hope and to trust no matter what. Thank you for the gift of my son.

---I'm thankful for a son-in-law who fits into our family like a glove. The love and support that he has for my daughter and grandboys is mind-boggling to me. I watched him cry when he married and cry when his babies were born. I'm thankful that he has chosen to be real and every day, more and more I see him wanting to reach out to others. Thank you God for the gift of my other son.

---I'm thankful for my grandboys. As cheesy as it sounds, my heart truly feels joy when I am around them or when I think of them. When I am down, the medicine I use to lift me is their hugs and smiles. It works every time. Can't wait to see what life has in store for these two loved boys. Thank you God for the gift of my grandsons.

---I'm thankful for all my family, but especially thankful for a brother who was given to me when I was 11 years old. I can't explain the bond we have had since he was born. We have been apart for most of our adult lives, but when I see him it's like he never left. I have no explanation for this except to say, he is in my life for a reason and I love him. Thank you God for the gift of all my family, and especially for this brother who, no matter what, has my heart forever.

---And finally, I'm thankful for the friends...ALL the friends who are like family to me. For old friends and new friends. Our paths have crossed for a reason and for that I am thankful. I'm thankful that friends who are true can be friends even when life or circumstances don't allow us to see each other a lot, talk to each other a lot, when we may not work together anymore, live in the same town, or go to the same church together anymore...whatever the reason, I'm thankful that once you are my friend...you are always my friend. Thank you God for the gift of the many friends You have allowed me to have.

"Being enriched in every thing to all bountifulness, which causes through us thanksgiving to God".
2 Corinthians 9:11