Is Anyone Out There?

Advertisement in newspaper:
"Someone to listen...really listen. No advise wanted...just someone to listen."

So many people pretend all is well, when deep inside they are screaming...or maybe they are just silently mourning. Hoping for a love they've never experienced or a love lost. Maybe they are "just putting one foot in front of the other," not knowing where their steps will eventually take them.

Many say, "Hi! How are you doing today?" When the truth of the matter is, they really don't care...don't even want to know (if it's going to take more than 5 seconds to explain). Maybe they just don't have the time to listen...maybe they WOULD care, if they had the time to.

Many walk around with a deep emptiness inside, not knowing why. Or maybe they know why, they just don't know what to do with the hole that engulfs them. Afraid if they did ask for help, they might look weak or that someone else wouldn't really know or understand their pain. So...they pretend all is well.

Others, make excuses for their plight. They blame someone else or their environment for their problems, instead of taking the situation and finding a solution.  We are indeed responsible for our future...each one of us. Many times choices of how we will live are some of the hardest choices we'll ever make. However...we still need each other! Sometimes we just need someone to listen. And by their listening, we are able to release the frustration we feel, finding understanding and solutions to our challenges, much of the time.

Loneliness kills us. Kills our spirit. It creates an atmosphere of desolation (complete emptiness or destruction). We must change the situation and find someone tangible who's willing to listen. Sure…God listens. He does. He's really good at it. He knows everything we could ever go through, because there is nothing new to him. He really, really understands! And He'll comfort us, by way of His Holy Spirit. Yet...we need each other. God said we need each other. "A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for adversity." ~Proverbs 17:17. When we have a true friend, they are always there to pick us up when we need picking up and to speak truth into our situation.

The advertisement above, was not found in a newspaper…it was created in my mind, as my eyes perceive the vacant look in people's eyes I see every day. It was imagined partly from a reality of my own from many years ago (and still chases after me from time to time), that causes my eyes to pierce through what seems to be "normal" situations. So many seem to be walking in a fog. My husband says I read into things way too much. Maybe that's true...or maybe God is giving me a small piece of what He sees…and asks me to listen.

The question I must ask myself is this: "How available am I, here…in Mary's World?"

The Value of Tears

This simple quote drove me back some 57 years, to a hot summer's night in the middle of 40 acres of pasture that had a creek running through it.

"Stop acting like everything is fine if it isn’t. – It’s okay to fall apart for a little while.  You don’t always have to pretend to be strong, and there is no need to constantly prove that everything is going well.  You shouldn’t be concerned with what other people are thinking either – cry if you need to – it’s healthy to shed your tears.  The sooner you do, the sooner you will be able to smile again." ~marcandangel.com 30 Things to Stop Doing to Yourself

One of my sisters, felt the need to allow everything to be okay. It didn’t matter what she was going through, she was “fine." I knew she wasn’t, but that’s all I could ever get out of her. “I’m fine.” I wish she would have shared her pain, her troubles, and her challenges, with me.

The only time I can remember seeing her cry, was when we were children. One of the many chores we shared was milking cows. We had 20 (or more) Holstein cows at the time. Milking machines had not been invented yet. WE were the machines. After all the cows had been milked and the milk had been poured into 10 gallon cans, they had to then be loaded onto the back of our flat bed truck and hauled to our barn where the cooler was. This particular pasture was one we rented during the winter months, instead of using our own. Hoisting those cans up to the truck bed was no easy feat. Neither was it easy getting them into the cooler that was partially filled with cold water to keep the milk from spoiling. Dad usually did most of the lifting, since we were just scrawny kids. I’m sure he was not only trying to save our backs from damage (and legs from getting scraped up), but was a bit concerned about us hitting the ledge of those platforms and causing the milk can lids to jar loose. That would mean the possibility of loosing all the milk we’d just extracted from those cows. And that was part of what put food on our table.

That particular day, I saw Becky cry, and it was over something that wasn’t even her fault. Let me prelude this by saying, I can’t imagine how my mom and dad successful raised 10 kids. No parent is perfect. No parent is without mistakes. We love our children, but life throws us curves and while in the moment, we let words fly from our mouths that shouldn’t. The words have no baring, no justification. Words that are spoken out of frustration or sheer exhaustion become damning words.

My brother Rush was finishing up inside the barn. The last cow was a cantankerous one and had to have “kickers” put around the back two legs. Kickers were metal cuffs with a chain that attached the two. If we allowed the cow freedom from these, she would with certainty, put her hoof in our milk pail and spill the results of all our hard work, out onto the barn floor. What made this so valuable was the care each animal needed throughout the year. It was not cheap. Not only did they need attended to all year with feed & water, but also shelter and the occasional home vet visit. They would need warbles extracted (by us), calves pulled or rotated while the momma's gave birth, babies taught how to drink from a bucket, hay thrown out to feed on, grain for morning & evening feedings, driven to different watering holes, moved from pasture to pasture for new fodder, and barns kept up for harvest time and milking…their milk was a precious commodity.

On the day Becky cried, she and I, were on the back of the truck waiting for Dad and Rush to throw up the milk cans. We would grab them and roll them to the front of the truck, by hanging onto the lids. One particular lid was not on securely. It was one that Becky grabbed. Injustice seems to hang in our minds when we see it executed.

We were rushed that day. Things had not gone well with the milking. Cows were not cooperative and we were all exhausted. Dad was dealing with the need to get back home for some food because his insulin levels were getting out of control. That meant passing out after intense aggravation, or simply going into shock. He was a diabetic.

Becky must have been around 14 years old, me only 10. She always protected me and tried to keep me from having to do the hard labor that she and all the rest of my siblings had been accustomed to. We lived on a farm. It was our livelihood. That night, she knew Dad needed to get home and to make that happen soon, she told me to stand out of the way. She was much faster than me. She grabbed one milk can after the other and rolled it with exceeding speed to the front of the truck, in order to get back for the next one thrown up. Then came the loose lidded one. As she grabbed the can and began the roll, it came off. And the yelling began.

We just couldn't afford to lose that milk, and all of a sudden, it was in Becky's hands. To make matters worse, remember the cantankerous cow? Rush let her out without removing the kickers that kept her back legs hobbled. Out of the barn she comes and heads straight for the creek that separated the two pastures. Her back legs would become raw and split if the kickers weren't removed. The milk had been spilt, the accusing words had been thrown out, and now Becky was supposed to jump off the truck and chase the cow into the water to get her free from the chains that bound her legs. It all happened so fast, and Becky was one that sprang into action when the need arose.

She cried that day. Mostly out of anger, I think...then hurt, but I can't remember it lasting very long. Mom was so mad at Dad. But he was dealing with uncontrollable blood sugar levels. I'm not excusing him, I'm just saying there are times we as parents, have health issues that seem to interrupt our normal actions. Dad loved his "boys and girls", as he called us. We all had endearing nicknames. He just had an extremely hard life. And that's another story.

Maybe there were other days Becky cried. I just can't remember ever seeing her do so. I do remember her telling me though, "Don't ever ask God to take away your tears. I did, and now I can't cry." She dealt with life with head up, chin out. Never in an aggressive way, just in a realistic way. Challenges didn't phase her. Troubles were created for solutions. Value was given to those that created it. She had unmatched speed and strength (well, maybe her son, Rusty is an exception). No one could beat her at any game, any work task, any challenge. 

Let me say there is a fine line between allowing tears to fall, and not. It's true, we should try to control emotions. Yet there are times we need to get away from everything…and cry. I don't know that anyone knows for certain (other than the One who created them), the reason tears exist. But some say tears were created to flush the excess salt from our body, which in turn releases built up energy with feelings, stressful feelings. They are life giving. Have you ever noticed after a good cry, how much better you feel? The thing you were crying about, hasn't miraculously dissolved, but now you can face it just a little better maybe. Emotional pain actually has access to a commodity that heals itself. BUT…if we subscribe to crying over every little thing, it will have the opposite effect. Our strength is depleted and we become needy with no fortitude, no determination, no victory. Please understand that I speak only from my own experiences…not claiming this to be the answer for all emotional pain. And we cry for different reasons. The really great thing about the reasons we cry, is, according to Scripture, God keeps a record of all our pain…we don't need to!  "You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book." Psalm 56:8(NLT)

I don't know if Becky crossed that line, or not. I only know her sacrifices instilled strength in me. She surely has been rewarded and suffers no more…and one day we'll be together once again. 

Until that day, here…you'll find me, in Mary's World.

Jani's Closet

I've always been a pretty serious soul. My thoughts take me deep into the reality of life, and because of that, the characteristics of such a nature have given me a very difficult time at being light-hearted, funny, and never "the life of the party."

For most of my earthly existence, I felt misunderstood. Even when I tried to "fit in" or become a part of conversations, I failed miserably. So, for the most part, I just entertained myself in my own little sphere of existence. And then there was a moment in time that my heart reached out to embrace a friend, simply because one of my girls had declared "you need a friend, Mom."

Her name was Jani, and I'll never forget that Sunday morning. As I waited for an opportunity to ask her to be my friend, I almost talked myself out of it, cause "this is crazy." I didn't have time for a friend, and I was pretty sure she didn't either. She was practicing with the Worship Team at Fellowship of Christians that day...yet another reason not to bother her. Why Jani? Why did I choose her to walk through lifes difficulties with me? There were plenty others I could have intruded on. Why her?

Dennis & I had been very close to her & LeRoy, since our Commerce Community days. We knew we could count on them for whatever we needed help with, and they could count on us. Some thought us to already be friends. And I suppose we were, in a fashion. But it was about to get real. They were trustworthy. They were honest. They were fun. They were compassionate. They were sincere. We served together in the church wherever we were needed, and even that was going to lead to something neither of us anticipated.

That particular Sunday morning, I bravely let my guard down and she walked right into my heart. Always having a smile on her face, always laughing…I asked if she'd be my friend. She probably thought I had lost my mind. But to me, the word "friend" gave entrance into my soul, which I hadn't been willing to give access to, up to that time. It's a very long story. Maybe someday I will tell it. But that day was a defining moment in my life that no one was aware of, until much later. Responding, she gave me a curiosity filled, sweet look and with a tender smile, said, "Yes, I'll be your friend."

Our times together after that, were on a very different plateau. I loved Jani so much. She was a true friend, if there ever was one. She tried to teach me how to Garage Sale (that was wasted effort). I saw junk that I didn't want to take the time to pilfer through. She saw treasures. The only thing I enjoyed about garage sales was visiting the donut shop for coffee and a donut, before heading out before the sun came up. I always wanted to drive because I would get us there faster. She caught onto that pretty quickly and never let me drive again. "You have to slow down, Mary, so I can see what's set out." We had the addresses of where all the "good" sales were (thanks LeRoy), and I wanted to get there before the good stuff was all gone. Her response to that was, "If we're suppose to have it, it will be there when we get there." That drove me crazy, but I always gave in. We thought so differently, but God wanted us connected for some reason. She told me once that her entire family was dressed from garage sale clothing. I would comment on something she was wearing, and immediately she would say, "25 cents (or some rediculous price)…garage sale." And I would touch my dress and say, "Belks…$65," or some nonsensical statement. I never had reason to doubt her, but her family always looked as if they had just stepped out of a magazine. And the paces I put her through...well, let's just say she must have been an angel in disguise.

Jani tried to teach me a lot of things. Sad to say, I was a poor student, much of the time. Why she never gave up on me is a sure sign of just how much God loves me. She tried to teach me how to shop for discounted food by taking me to different places where she shopped to feed the masses. Her pantry was always full. I so admired her. Yet, I was afraid of food poisoning. Afraid my purchase would sit on shelves until it exploded, just like any clothing I purchased at garage sales, hung in my closet, never to be worn. She bought dented cans without labels yet knew what was in each can, and as far as I know, everyone she fed is still alive and flourishing. Not sure what their mental state in though…(that one's for you, LeRoy) ;)

Dennis and I would go to LeRoy & Jani's for dinner, some evenings, before our Cell Group Meetings…or they would come to our house. Times I will always treasure and miss terribly. Her laugh rings in my ears now as I type about just a speck of her life. We both had a touch of craziness when we got together. One very awesome memory we shared were the yearly Women's Retreats. We tried to always share a room cause we just liked each other. We would talk and laugh long after everyone else had gone to bed. Laughing always caused us to have throat issues. She would clear her throat, then I would clear mine. For some weird reason, that just set us off. The more we laughed, the worse the throat clearing got. Good times, my friend. I miss you…

After Jani left this world, I felt lost again. It wasn't long after her funeral that LeRoy asked if I would like to bring a young lady that I had taken "under my wing", over to his house and go through some of Jani's clothes. He was going to donate them to Goodwill, and thought maybe Andrea could use some of them. When we walked into the bedroom, I wasn't sure I could stay, knowing what we were there for. But LeRoy, being the guy he is, caused a peace over the room that encouraged me and Andrea, to take a look.

Jani had a walk-in closet to be envied. She was always organized and very neat with her belongings. We did take some of her things with us, that day. I still have them and think of her every time I slip my arms through the white sweater, or shimmy the gray boat-necked shirt over my head. LeRoy later gave me one of Jani's fans that I had admired…and a coffee cup.

I thought of Jani yesterday, when I was putting my husband's shoes back in his closet's shoe rack. It was a day I was glad that I had to pick up after him, because it brought Jani back to me for a while. Was she there, just waiting for an opportunity to be my friend again?

Today, I chose the coffee cup that used to be hers. It was my cup, she told me. I had always admired it when we were visiting them. It was my cup of choice, to drink from. I didn't know at the time, it would bring back deep memories of days gone by. Memories that only close friends share. Boot-camp memories. Memories of trying to re-dig some spiritual wells, of facing difficult, first ever, situations.  It's an inspiring cup, with grass and a few strategically placed flowers, around the bottom…and throughout the middle and around the inside of the lip, there are little bees flying around with words of encouragement. "great things happen when we beelieve" "if it is to bee, it's up to me" "what the mind can beelieve, it can achieve" "bee true to yourself" "surround yourself with beelievers" "beelieve with your heart" "beelieve and achieve" "beelieve you can succeed"…

Ahhhh…Jani's closet. It's so full of love and wisdom. So much you accomplished, in the short time you were here, my friend. You will never be forgotten, for you will live forever in my heart...in my memories...and in the hearts of the oh-so-many your life touched, while here.

Friends on earth, friends in heaven...forever friends.

Truly, God's mercies are new every morning. He knows what we have need of, physically and mentally…

And today, I needed my friend…here, in Mary's World.

The Fun Moments in Life

"You talk even though you have nothing to say," said one of my daughter's, as she giggled at what she perceived to be a nonsensical statement. Little did she know, I thought the response was completely relevant to the answer given.  I had asked her boyfriend how he was doing. He said, "Pretty good." I said, "Well, that's better than not-so-good." And that is how one closes a conversation...I guess, cause it ended.

Why I find this extremely funny now, is beyond me. I'm sitting here typing, laughing, crying, coughing, wheezing...all at the same time. That's what happens when I laugh hard and loud. I literally get choked up. I try to avoid it...

On a more serious note (maybe), I really like her boyfriend. I love it that he and she care so deeply for each other. I love being around happy people, so I worm my way into a conversation whenever possible. The problem with that is, I rarely have anything important to say. So the old stand-by, the common greeting is, "How are you?" Rarely does anyone expect an answer...but me! I genuinely want to know how a person is doing.

I'm not sure, but I'm supposing that God has a really great sense of humor, since He created it. Some people are said to have a "dry" sense of humor. Others are just out and out funny! Like the actors on Seinfeld. Which means absolutely nothing to my inability to involve myself in a conversation. I sit around and smile a lot at other people's conversations...but mostly, I fear opening my mouth. You didn't know that did you? It's a cover-up...*wink*

I think I just proved that I talk without having anything to say..

This is indeed an interesting place to be...in Mary's World.

Sticks and Stones

Some say words, the hurtful and demeaning kind, don't affect them because they know who they are, and nothing anyone says to them, or about them, can affect their day. In reality, that claim is merely a cover-up…a denial of sorts. Words are so important, they can channel a life, a destiny. Words find a nesting place in our brain even when we're able to ignore them at the moment. Then, when the opportunity presents itself, they'll cause us to withdraw deeply inside ourselves, and vow never to share our lives, our true feelings, with those who hurt us.

The old adage, "sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me," originated from school playgrounds as far back as 1862, addressing the act of verbal bullying. It's intent was to proclaim that true courage consists in doing what is right, despite the jeers and sneers of our companions. True courage is something that comes from a supernatural strength, that relies on the ability to forgive those that cause us unnecessary pain. And we become a wounded soldier that knows no gender, nor age.

I suppose we all have participated in some sort of verbal bullying, at some time or another, in the course of our lives. We may not have realized that was what we were doing. But if we noticed the look on the face of the one we were speaking to (or at), I'm pretty sure it was evident that our words hit their intended mark. Maybe we even felt a touch of satisfaction in the moment.

INSERT: The color of paint on the walls of my salon, is called Sticks and Stones. It's a really pretty color…one that gives a calm sense of being. Ironic, isn't it? One definition is calming, the other stormy, turbulent…

In my early 20's, words were used to lower my self-esteem and confidence in who I was to become. From early 1966, through mid 1970, I was in a very abusive relationship. Mentally and physically. Because of those unfair, unmerited words coupled with beatings, I began to believe a lie and spiraled downward into what seemed to be a very large black hole. An abyss, for the next 3 years.

Then God threw a roadblock in my path. He explained what had happened to me, through His Holy Scriptures, as I unintentionally flipped through it's pages. It was like a breath of fresh air in the middle of what felt like life-long suffering. I'll never forget that day. Tears streamed down my face as I petitioned God to, "Please don't leave me now." It was judgement day for my few years spent on this planet. That was truly a defining moment in my life. At 26 years of age, I was about to find freedom from the lies that controlled me.

As the years turned into many, I realized I was a work in progress. The destruction of self-esteem took some time to lift from me. God brings a renewed mind to those willing to find their path. We cannot wallow in self-pity, nor the order of our past experiences. To do that, we place ourselves in our mental prison, once again. God came to show us how to live…how to walk upon the injustice of this world. The pain and suffering that are meant to destroy us, He cleared a path, so that none would have to remain in that mental place of withdrawal. The path is narrow, and few find it, because it seems to us that we somehow deserve to be treated cruelly. We take the blows and act as if everything is okay. We lay our head upon our pillows and pray to sleep, unafraid. We've never felt the love we so desire and the results of verbal (& sometimes physical) abuse has us in chains.

Words…they are powerful!

The really sad part of this story, is not what I experienced as a young and oh so innocent, woman. It's the realization that hurtful words continue to swirl in our everyday lives. They're not just for those far from knowing the Truth, that only God can show us, but even we that have placed our lives in His hands…we, who talk about the freedom God gives…we, who are quick to instruct others…can destroy a life (or establish a life), by the words we choose.

I pray that God would daily open my eyes to understand and not be quick to judge the reasons of undeserving words that come my way. I pray He would help me to keep my own words silent, so as not to retaliate when pain hits my heart from words spoken. I, too, need a watchman over my heart…my mouth, for it can speak harshly.

INSERT: Is it possible to take hurtful words and build a better tomorrow on them? Sticks and Stones may break our bones…but words? They have the power to wound our heart. The essence of who we are. They can either destroy us, or cause us to learn deflection and protection, from the stupidity of the carelessness with which they were spoken. Doesn't wood (sticks), and rock (stones) a very strong house create? Just a thought...

Psalm 19:14 says it best:
"Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in Thy sight, O LORD, my rock and my redeemer."

Choosing the peaceful color (the builder part of my soul) of Sticks and Stones, here you'll find me…in Mary's World.

My Morning Coffee

There's a Barnes & Noble Bookstore just up the road from us, about a stones throw...as the crow flies. On the occasions I've walked into this wonderful, feel good place, there have always been many workers, ready to help with whatever a person could need...or just want. AND with smiles (real ones) on their faces. I simply love going to my Barnes & Noble Bookstore. Yesterday, my feet took me there, once again.

As I took the first sip of my morning coffee, my memories took me back to yesterday's experience. A young man, that seemed pretty busy at his work station, acknowledged my presence with a direct look into my eyes (I love that). Asking what he could help me with, he put his present work on hold (I love that). He understood, without me saying a word, how valuable my time was that day. Not only did he look to see if the book I was searching for (Prophet by Frank Peretti), was in stock...he actually took me to the book (I love that)!

Yesterday was a cold and blustery sort of Pooh day (I love that) and I couldn't help but smell the Starbucks coffee, as we rounded the curve that led me to the book I was searching for. I picked up my book, glanced at the price on the back, and headed for the coffee counter. People were sitting around the circle podium, drinking their drinks and enjoying each others company. There were lone people there also. They were quietly reading, while sipping their drinks. The "guest helper" behind the counter, came quickly (he was very busy, as well), and asked for my order. I felt so welcomed there, in spite of the business this season brings (I love that). While I waited for my Pumpkin Spice Latte, I looked at each table's guests and my heart sort of bounced around inside of me. Some of the bounces produced a very happy experience...a feeling that all was well...and it put a smile on my face. Other glances produced great sadness. My heart went out to what these people might be going through, what their eyes told me, with what looked to me to be extreme sadness. Were there silent cries, that are easily missed? Or am I just paranoid?

Another hair salon, just a couple of doors up from my own Elements Salon, shared a conversation he had with a client's mom. She had called to cancel her son's appointment because he had committed suicide the day before. My friend told me he had noticed how depressed this young man had seemed the last couple of visits. My heart broke for the family...and for the young man. Was he silently crying...and nobody heard?

This is the time of year we, as a nation, have chosen to celebrate with thankful hearts. And right in the middle of my thankful heart, there lies a spot that goes out to the hurting. My family is so blessed...and I am grateful. This just may be one of the happiest times in my life. Yet, this morning, as I took that first sip of coffee, laced with Bailey's Pumpkin Spice Creamer, from my own coffee-brewing pot, in the warmth of our home, my mind went straight back to the Starbucks Coffee circle, in my Barnes and Noble Bookstore. And from there it reached out to the many hearts without smiles, those bent downward not wanting to look me in the eye, in the many department stores and retail outlets, that I've encountered this past year. And it makes me sad.

There are many who have an indifferent outlook on life. They don't notice those around them that are despondent. I know this, because I've asked of various co-workers. Much of the time, they will take on an attitude of "they deserve it." To that, I must respond, "I deserve it, but God has chosen to cover me with grace." I don't know why God loves me so much, I just know He does. And the beauty that many fail to see, is that God loves them too. He wants to spread His Grace all over them...if they would but let Him. Difficulties of life remain...but there is a way through them, with head lifted up and genuine smiles, because our hope is not in what others think of us, not what others say to us, not what others expect of us. It is in Jesus Christ alone.

Ahhhh...my morning coffee.

Thank You, Lord of all creation, for all You've provided for this, my family...

I'll remain, until I'm no more...here, in Mary's World.

Lady In Waiting

Have you ever felt as if something was just about to break loose in the space you occupy? Break loose in a good way? Like the sky just may open up, and show you things you're about to be a part of? Things much bigger than you've experienced thus far? Something that will cause your heart to be happier than it's ever been before?

Why I feel this way, I'm not really sure of. Except for the possibility that my world has taken the turn...the bend in the road, so to speak. I'm feeling almost alive again. It's been a long year, for more people than myself. Long...yet it went by, didn't it? And, looking at it from this side of the fence, it didn't take very long at all. My Dennis is here with me now, in North Carolina. My girls and their fellas are close by. We have a place to create a home in, once again. A place family can be together, again. It's been so very long since those days were possible. We are now (as a couple) building relationships within our church family from Hope Community Church in Raleigh, NC.

Last night, we had our first small group dinner since 2011. We used to have them at least once a month...to celebrate whatever we could dream up to label them as. They were usually for a birthday, or a holiday. Experiencing life outside of yourself is life-giving. You can breathe deep, and feel the strength coming into your bones. Into your spirit...your mind.

I've missed "community" more than I realized. I think I may have even become a little lazy...relaxing inside myself, not wanting to do much of anything but just whatever I wanted to do...or didn't want to do, but because there wasn't anything to do, I didn't have a choice. Well, I don't suppose that's entirely true. We always have choices. It's just so stinking easy to get in a mental shut-down of who you were created to be...and do, for crying out loud! And we wallow. With a smile on our faces that is as phony as the day is long.

But now...now, God has lifted my head! I don't know what He's got in store for our family, but my gut says it's going to be worth being hung out to dry. Worth being that cork in the water, just bobbing along. Worth being set on a shelf, with no one being interested in reading what is on your heart. Worth the lonely days...nights.

It reminds me of the Honeysuckle plant. The fragrance comes only during certain seasons. But the fragrance is so worth waiting for. I enjoyed the plant that was in our backyard in Miami, Oklahoma, even during it's time of non-productivity, though it looked so pitiful. I knew a time was coming that it wouldn't appear dead any longer and the fragrance it would share with those close to it, would be the most awesome time. And now, I'm getting that hint of fragrance. And I can't help but be excited! I've lived long enough to know that most of the time, God's extreme surprises, is just that. A surprise! One can't guess the form these super-duper blessings will arrive in. We just wait...with great expectation.

You could say that I'm a lady in waiting...now that's funny!

Yet, here I'll wait...in Mary's World.