For Reals!

Growing up in the South, USA, we did not have holly bushes. We didn’t have snow either—or at least very rarely—but I loved Christmas cards with the deep green leaves and red holly berries, and when I drew my own Christmas cards I always included holly leaves and berries.

When I came to Scotland, I was delighted to find holly shrubs. In fact, we had one growing in our yard. And a friend of ours who hosted weekly Bible studies had an amazing holly tree tunnel in her yard. But, alas…no berries. No berries at Christmas, no berries in the spring, no berries in the summer, no berries in the fall—no berries at all. Remembering all the Christmas cards I had designed and drawn around holly berries—it was disappointing.

Today when I walked Savannah, I faced off with depression. It was grey. Grey is a nice color—but across the entire sky day after day? It was cold. I hate cold. My fingers were numb, my nose stung, the wind threw cold raindrops into my face. I wanted to be home in Texas. In fact, any place warm. But both of my sisters in the U.S. are battling serious health issues and I want to be there with them. Plus I developed some pesky heart symptoms—considering the fact that I need to stay alive at the moment to take care of husband Alan who can’t walk and fur baby Savannah who can’t walk herself—and I was scheduled for bloods, blood pressure, and an ECG on Friday.

As I walked into the wind making a brave attempt to praise God for everything—I spotted it. A tiny red berry on a holly bush. One red berry. It was enough to raise me up to praise and gratitude. Holly shrubs really did have red berries! All those Christmas cards I had faithfully drawn year after year were truthful, not deceitful.

Reflecting on my joy at finding one red holly berry made me think about how one genuine smile could lift the spirits of another person and restore hope and gratitude in their lives.

I’ve spent the rest of the day smiling. One little red holly berry started it.

God says in His Word, “My fruit is better than gold.” Proverbs 8:19.

Sometimes that fruit is a little red holly berry. Or a smile.

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Kindness in Dunoon, Scotland

The news media is filled with horrible images and stories about atrocities in the world. Yet, there is kindness.

Because husband Alan can no longer walk we do a lot of traveling with him in a wheelchair. Everywhere we go, folks here in Dunoon, Scotland, wrap us in kindness. If Savannah’s leash gets caught in one of the back wheels and I have to help Alan out of the chair and have him hold something while I turn the chair upside down to free the leash—I get shouldered out of the way by eager helpers. Strangers not only take over coaxing the leash out of the chair—they also support Alan as he stands waiting to get back into his chair.

There is chaos in the world, but there is also kindness.

At the entrance to every shop, someone opens the door. They often come in twos or threes and hold Savannah while I maneuver the chair inside, and hold the door open, and tug on the front of the chair to help me get it over the hump. If it’s a restaurant, they run ahead of us and move chairs out of the way so we can get through.

In spite of all that is wrong with the world, there is also kindness.

When Alan spent five months in the hospital, a lovely couple from our church walked Savannah for me every day while I visited Alan in the hospital. Other people in the neighborhood also offered. Friends dropped by to visit him and our church even held a service in the hospital for him.

In a world of hurt, hate, and anger—there is also kindness.

It rains here in Dunoon almost daily. It is 40 degrees colder than my Texas blood likes. When my son Luke was stationed in Hawaii he called excited by the beauty around him. “Mom, everything green has a bloom on it and it is always the perfect temperature.”

The climate is miserable in Dunoon, Scotland, yet there is beauty.

When I am tempted to whine and complain, I remember Luke’s words. Then I tell myself that Dunoon is like a cold climate Hawaii. Everything is vibrant green and almost every green thing has a bloom on it.

It’s amazing how gratitude and thankfulness can transform the world around us and how much kindness there is if we just look for it.

“Finally, brethren, whatever things are true, whatever things are noble, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of good report, if there is any virtue and if there is anything praise worthy—meditate on these things.” Philippians 4:8

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Guardian Angels Rock

Guardian Angels Rock. I hope everyone in the world has guardian angels as good and as skilled as mine.

We’ve had two to three weeks of nearly constant gale-force winds and sometimes blinding rain here in our part of Scotland. The wind has been strong enough to move things. A few nights ago when I walked Savannah during a lull in the storm I tripped over a large roll of chain link fence that had blown into the sidewalk. With streetlights out, it was invisible. I’ve had a back surgery, a knee replacement, and a hip replacement. Falling is not medically recommended. My guardian angel caught me and kept me upright. I was so close to going down that I still don’t know how he did it.

Today, I went to turn out of the parking lot into the main street and a car that did not have its turn signal on abruptly cut directly in front of me. I missed it by mere inches. Then I drove up the steep hill toward our road and a dog ran out into my lane of traffic. (A lot of fences are down.) I had to come to a complete stop to keep from hitting it. Whew! Good job, Guardian Angel. Thank you.

When son Luke was nine, we went exploring in the Nevada desert in our little Ford Courier pickup truck. “Mom, stop,” Luke warned as I took a winding dirt road along a deep gully. “You’re going to get stuck.”

Being the parent—I was right. Right? Being the parent—I was in control. Right? Wrong. The back wheels skid off the road going around a steep bend and slipped down the hill half-way to the bottom. Oops! No one even knew where we were—and cell phones hadn’t been invented back then. Luke and I prayed. Then we began walking through the trackless desert back the way we had come. An old man on a walking stick met us and asked what happened. I explained. “Stay with your truck,” he instructed. “I’ll be right back to pull you out.”

When God answers a prayer—He answers in a big way. The man came back in a dump truck and pulled us out. A couple of days later, Luke and I baked cookies and bought a thank you card to take to him. We couldn’t find him. No house, no driveway, no dump truck…nothing but miles of empty desert. God had sent us an angel—who drove a dump truck.

Years later here in Scotland, I was in Inverness waiting for a bus to go to the retail shopping center to get the only kind of food and dog treats that our collie Angel Joy could eat because she had been ill. It was a freezing day of sleet and snow. I had moved from Texas to Scotland—and had not adjusted to the 40-degree drop in temperature. (Truth be told—I still haven’t.) There were so many people waiting for buses at the bus stop that I couldn’t even shelter under the roof with everyone else. I was so cold and miserable that I honestly felt like forgetting everything and just going home. Before I could act on that impulse, a bus chugged up and stopped—not in front of the bus stop—but in front of me. It looked like a bus from a third-world country. It was not painted the color of the Inverness City buses and it was old and battered. It looked like the bus out of the 1964 “Moon Spinners” movie starring Hayley Mills and set in Crete. I was amazed that none of the other people headed for the bus. There was no sign on the front of the bus indicating where it was going. The door opened. “Do you go to the retail park?” I asked. The driver smiled at me. “Anywhere you want to go, little lady.”

I was the only person on the bus. Briefly, I wondered if I were being kidnapped—but who would kidnap me? I wasn’t worth any money. For just a few coins, the bus rattled off down the street and deposited me at the retail center a few minutes later. I never saw that bus in Inverness again. Some angels drive buses.

Not everyone believes in angels. Sad. Their guardian angels must not be as good as mine.

“For He shall give His angels charge over you, to keep you in all your ways.”Psalm 91:11.

“So not forget to entertain strangers, for by so doing some have unwittingly entertained angels.” Hebrews 13:2.

You never know where you’ll meet angels. Some drive heavy equipment.

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Diamonds for Death

Widow Lila Sparrow moved into a large nest on the edge of a tree branch overlooking a meadow. She had barely moved into the nest when a gale approached from the north.

The other birds, who had nests further back in the strand of trees worried about her. “Come stay with us,” they invited, “until the wind calms down.”

Lila stuck her beak into the air. “Don’t try to trick me,” she said. “I’m too smart for you. I’ve always had ugly little nests before. I’ve always wanted a fine home to show everyone how smart and beautiful I am. This is the best nest in this little forest and everyone wants it. If I fly out to stay with you, someone will rush in and steal my new home.” So Lila stayed in her nest even as gale-force winds thrashed the tree limbs and striped the few remaining leaves off the winter-stricken tree. Deep in the forest, the other birds visited with one another and sang cheerfully through the strong wind—but Lila was too afraid to sing.

After the gale blew itself out, the birds came to Lila and invited her to the flying games in the forest. “It’s an aerial obstacle course,” they explained, “and the winner is the bird who completes it in the least amount of time. After the games, we will hold a treasure hunt in the woods. The winner will be the one who finds and collects the largest number of dried-up blackberries. Then we will have a picnic together.”

Lila stuck her beak into the air. “Don’t try to trick me,” she said. “I’m too smart for you. This is the best nest in this little forest and everyone wants it. If I leave it—someone will steal it. Go away and leave me alone.”

A deep cold from the Arctic dropped down into the forest. The temperature plunged to below zero and ice blanketed everything. The birds came to Lila. “It will be the coldest it has ever been here in our little forest tonight,” they told her, “and you have the biggest nest. Let us come and stay with you in your nest. If we huddle together, we will stay warm enough to survive the cold. But if we face the cold alone—we will die.”

Lila stuck her beak into the air. “Don’t try to trick me,” she said. “I’m too smart for you. Go away and leave me alone.” She pointed a wing at the meadow. “You know I have a meadow full of diamonds and a path of rubies. You do not want to keep me warm—you want to steal my diamonds and rubies.”

“No, Lila,” Grandpa Sparrow said. “Don’t you realize that those sparkling jewels in your meadow are not diamonds? They are ice crystals because it is so cold. And those rubies are drops of blood from a young boy who fell and cut his arm on the ice. Please let us stay with you tonight. Or, come stay with us. We don’t have much room, but we will squeeze tightly together. We must stay together and work together to survive the deep cold tonight.”

But Lila stuck her beak into the air and said, “No, no! Go away and leave me alone. I will not let anyone steal my diamonds and rubies.”

The other birds in the little forest huddled together in their nests and warmed the night air around them. In the morning, they went to check on Lila. Her nest was empty.

She lay cold and stiff below the tree amid her field of sparkling diamonds—diamonds which melted and vanished beneath the morning sun.

“But seek the kingdom of God and all these things shall be added to you…a treasure in the heavens that does not fail.” Luke 12:33

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When Plans Fail

(Cover of my soon-to-be released new book.)

One of my joys in life is helping in children’s church. I love finding an object lesson to tie in with each story. This time, I had found the perfect fit. The lesson was on gifts of the Spirit. Confidently, I held up a lemon in one hand and an apple in the other hand and asked the children which one they would rather eat. To my chagrin, ALL of them replied, “the lemon.”

Sometimes our plans fail.

My plan for the day was simple and fail-proof. I would write all morning.

The editor had promised to have my newly finished book back to me so I could make the final corrections. She didn’t.

I had my husband dressed and ready for the ambulance to pick him up for his trip to the cancer doctor across the water. At the last minute, he decided to change clothes. The phone rang and it was the vet’s office wanting our collie Savannah back for injections to treat her severe pancreatitis. The phone rang again. It was a gas engineer needing to check the boiler in our rental house. We weren’t expecting him, but he had already come across the water and needed to get into our house.

I helped my husband out to the ambulance in his wheelchair, took the wheelchair back to the house, and put Savannah into the car for her trip to the vet. I hadn’t had time to walk her yet, so I took her for a brief walk before I took her into the vet’s. She had diarrhea. Before the vet could take her temperature, she had to clean Savannah’s bottom.

I got back home to find a delivery from Amazon on the porch and the gas man waiting across the street in his van. The delivery contained a broken jar of dill pickles and pickle juice pooled at the front door. The gas engineer followed me inside, but the boiler is in the attic and I couldn’t find the thingy that opens the trap door to the attic steps.

The vet had asked me to take a photo of the label on Savannah’s food and email it to her so we could make sure the food wasn’t part of the problem. The memory card on the camera was locked. I couldn’t figure out how to unlock it. So I took Savannah’s food out of the freezer and copied the ingredients into an email to send the vet’s office. By this time, the engineer had found the thingy to unlock the steps and had inspected the boiler, but he couldn’t find the outlet for it. While searching, he slipped on the waterlogged back deck and almost fell. His foot went through a weak place in the wood. Fortunately, he was able to extract his foot without damage to either himself or the porch.

I hit the “send” key on my computer for the email to the vet, and went to help the gas engineer search for the outlet from the boiler. Neither of us could find it. The engineer needed to use the toilet before he left, and I realized much to my chagrin that I had never finished cleaning it yet—a job I had started at 6:30 a.m. when I got up. Because Alan can’t walk and has to use a bedside commode and I have to empty it into the toilet—the toilet needs to be cleaned rather often.

I heaved a sigh of relief when the gas engineer left and I could return to my plan. Spending the morning writing.

I glanced at the clock beside my desk. It was noon.

“A person’s heart plans their way, but the LORD directs the steps.” Sometimes He directs us into patience-building excursions.

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What I Didn’t Get For Christmas

I didn’t get a new car for Christmas. That’s okay—I don’t need a new car.

I didn’t get jewelry for Christmas. That’s okay—I don’t wear jewelry.

I didn’t get new clothes. No problem. I don’t need new clothes.

I didn’t get a designer handbag. No problem. I don’t even know what names qualify as designer handbags—and I seldom carry a purse anyway.

I didn’t get books, DVDs, perfume, or fruit baskets. Praise the Lord for that—our house is so small we’re out of room for anything extra, and we couldn’t eat the fruit before it spoiled.

Praise Jesus for the important things we didn’t get for Christmas; discord, anger, grief, fighting, jealousy, drunkenness, discontent.

What we unwrapped this Christmas was joy, love, contentment, peacefulness, promise, healing—everlasting gifts that will never wear out, get lost, or get thrown out.

We had the best Christmas ever.

The LORD says, “I will make them and the places all around My hill a blessing; and I will cause showers to come down in their season; there shall be showers of blessing.” Ezekiel 34:26.

We had God’s showers of blessing. We pray that you may unwrap that gift in 2024.

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No Christmas Snow

Growing up in the southern US, we never had snow for Christmas. We almost never had snow. That didn’t bother me. Even then—I hated cold. I suppose my hatred of snow and cold was partly because our family was too poor to afford warm clothes.

One thing that bothered me from a young age was Christmas cards. They portrayed wintery, snowy scenes that made it appear that it wasn’t Christmas without snow. I would wonder, “Where are the Christmas cards for people like us? Doesn’t anyone realize how beautiful our landscape is at Christmas and all during the year? What about the folks who live further south and have never seen snow? Where are the Christmas cards for them?”

Other things that bothered me even before I became a Christian were Santa and gifts. I grew up amid folks who could not afford to give gifts at Christmas, and children who never got anything from Santa. Did it make them feel worthless? That bothered me a lot. It still does. I knew families who considered one bag of sugar, or one sweet potato, or one handful of laundry soap priceless Christmas gifts.

Every family has its own Christmas traditions. One of ours was a tangerine in the bottom of a stocking with a few pieces of chocolate on top. I traded my tangerine to my clueless younger siblings for chocolate. Or, perhaps—being the oldest—I bullied them. Thankfully, I don’t remember—but I do know that I never ate the tangerine.

We had a tradition of going out into our pasture and finding and cutting down a pine tree and decorating the house on December, 20, my birthday. And because my parents were atheists, “Santa” was big at our house. When I started school at age 5 and the other children were singing “Silent Night,” “Joy to the World,” and “Away in a Manger”—I was perplexed by the words. I didn’t understand. God was not allowed to exist at our house, and “Jesus” was a swear word that we children were not allowed to use.

When my son Luke was a child, I started our own tradition. We never opened Christmas gifts until after I read Luke, Chapter 2, verses 1-20. We kept that tradition up until he left home to serve in the U.S. Marine Corps.

We have a friend in Finland. She writes to us every Christmas with lovely tales about “Father Christmas” and Finnish food and traditions. She is passing those customs down to her grandchildren. And, yes, they involve snow. Lots of snow.

All around the globe, folks will be celebrating their own special Christmas customs and traditions in their own climates. But no matter the place around the globe, the distance from the equator, or the weather—one thing is the same everywhere. Jesus is the Reason for the Season.

And it came to pass in those days that a decree went out from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be taxed. So all went to be registered, everyone to his own city. Joseph also went up from Galilee, out of the city of Nazareth, unto Judea, to the city of David, which is called Bethlehem, because he was of the house and lineage of David, to be registered with Mary, his betrothed wife who was with child. So it was, that while they were there, the days were completed for her to be delivered, and she brought forth her firstborn Son, and wrapped Him in swaddling clothes, and laid Him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn. Now there were in the same country shepherds living out in the fields keeping watch over their flock by night, and behold, an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were greatly afraid. Then the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid, for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy which will be to all people. For there is born to you this day in the city of David, a Savior, who is Christ the Lord. And this will be the sign to you: you will find a Babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.” And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying: “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, goodwill toward men!”

And that—in any spot on the globe—wrapped in any local traditions and customs—is Christmas. With or without snow.

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Should Have Been in Murphy’s Law

I have recently discovered some laws that Murphy should have included in his famous list. For example, you pull into a nearly empty parking lot—and knowing you will return to your car with a wide parcel—you park in the middle of the empty spaces. You return to your car to discover that all the empty spaces are still empty—except the one next to your car where the driver has parked so close to you that you can’t open the door without hitting their car.

It is cold, windy, and wet. You put your dog in the car and drive her to an empty field away from houses to let her out to take care of necessities. Since the weather is so foul and there is no one and nothing in sight, you take off the leash to let her do what she needs to do. She goes poo in tall grass along a fence where: no one ever walks; no one will ever see, and the poo is destined to disintegrate into soil and feed nutrients to wildflowers. Then out of nowhere comes a man walking a dog. Not just any kind of dog—a hound dog with a strong nose. The hound dog is on a leash and leads his master straight over to the poo you decided not to pick up. So you spend the rest of the day wondering who the man is; is he really just someone out walking his dog—or is he the doggie poo police? Will you be receiving a bill or a fine in the mail? Or does he just think you are a thoughtless jerk?

These should have been included in Murphy’s Law.

The Bible says, “Be sure your sins will find you out.” But, then again, It might just be Murphy working on the second edition of his laws.

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The Fragile Tracery of Trees

I hate winter. I hate cold.

Two things I enjoy about winter; the dance and swirl of falling leaves as they get one more chance at life before they descend into a forever rest, and the fragile tracery of trees—made visible by vanishing leaves.

I gaze in wonder at the twisted limbs—different shapes, different breadths—each one unique, having been given the individual attention that the Creator of the universe bestows on all His creations. The fragile tracery of trees tell a story. They remind me of people.

Some have faced such buffeting from the wind and over-burdening from rain and snow that they have been severely thrust down—but instead of accepting defeat or dropping off the tree—they have slowly twisted and turned and reached for the sky again. Some have been shouldered aside by stronger, faster growing trees in their path—so they have turned away and established their own path to the sun.

Some have lost pieces. Yet they still grow.

Sometimes as I gaze in wonder at the fragile tracery of trees, I match them to folks I know—or have known. I especially think of those who are battling severe storms in their lives and continuing to grow…and I pray for them. Sometimes as I gaze in wonder at the fragile tracery of trees, I match them to things I’ve faced in my life—and I thank Jesus for bringing me out on the other side…with my face to the sun.

Life on this earth is as fleeting as the autumn dance of leaves. Therefore, the Bible says in 2 Timothy 2:3, we must endure hardship as good solders of Jesus Christ and turn our faces to the sun. We have an example: the fragile tracery of trees.

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Seriously?

Just happened across a headline bemoaning the fact that “trolls” were criticizing a tampon designed for transgender men. Seriously?

I’m from Texas. I know that you can put a saddle and bridle on a longhorn steer and ride it in a parade. We do that in my home town. But if we put a saddle and a bridle on a longhorn and hang a sign around its neck and on both horns proclaiming, “I am a horse,” and ride it in a parade no one will take it seriously—except for the humor element. You can put a sign on a longhorn to label it as a horse—but that doesn’t make it a horse.

I’m tired of all the folks who are offended by everything they disagree with. I’m offended by them. God created women with a body opening that is designed—among other things—to release blood during menstruation. God created men with an appendage that among other things—fits into a woman’s body opening and completes her nicely. One bane that women endure that men don’t is dealing with monthly cycles. For me, anyway, it was a relief to get to the time of my life when I’m past the fuss and mess of the monthly need for tampons. And transgender men want to take that on—seriously?

How sad. My heart hurts for a world that has moved so far away from God and His creation that men want to encumber themselves with tampons. My head aches from the idea of those poor misguided fools who have moved so far away from God that they would waste time “inventing” a tampon for men. No wonder the Bible says in Psalm 14:1, “The fool has said in his heart, there is no God.”

All to keep from offending the easily offended.

I’m offended. I’m offended that those who have not earned the right to share my experience as a woman are attempting to steal it.

“In the beginning God created…So God created man in His own image, in the image of God He created him; male and female He created them.” Genesis 1:27.

No matter how many people are offended, one cannot hang a sign on the horns of a longhorn and create a horse.

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