A Diamond on My Path

 We've waited for this day…the day our Meghan's eyes sparkled with excitement because someone entered her life that looked at her with a love that gives instead of takes away. Clark is someone who places her needs above his, someone that seems to understand her, like no-one ever has. Someone who encourages her, laughs with her about silly stuff and embraces her quirkiness.

We all have our quirks and truisms…right? But that's not what this post is about. It's about the Bridal Shower we had yesterday for Meg. I knew I was getting to take charge of this, early on. This and the decorating of the venue we'll be using for the wedding. I was thrilled. Lindsey has helped Meg with a lot of the wedding preparations while, at the same time, keeping up with her photography business and working full time at Cree. I'm guessing she was glad I am here to help with some of the preparatory happenings of a beautiful wedding in the making. But probably not nearly as glad as I am. Finally, I was getting to be a real part of something big. Something I could stir up energy to make happen. Something that was important to someone other than myself. Well, it's important to me too, but this was something I could DO for someone other than myself.

God threw me a diamond. Yes, He did. Oh, I have many "diamonds" in my life, but this particular one renewed me just a bit, and none too soon. I haven't felt "on my game" in quite a while. The last couple of years have been an adjustment we never expected we'd have to make and we're still working out the kinks, but are so very thankful God chose to place us on this path. And we know He works all things out for good. Even when it's hard to see two feet in front of your face, let alone determine the outcome of your actions for years down the road. But He knows…and we can trust Him with that.

It was so much fun gathering items to use, to create, to embellish on. One thought triggered another and another, until it was all complete. I did find out that I'm not nearly as quick as I used to be. I guess some things just can't remain the same. And I'm actually okay with that. Another season of life, another adventure.

I loved what Clark's mom read to us about her favorite memory of him. "Adventure" was a word she used a couple of times. It will be a treasure to our kids in the years to come. All of our guests had wonderful memories of Meg and Clark. Some were funny, some very touching to hear, some (actually only one) very off the wall crazy. That one would be mine. Not thinking to write a memory down since I was the one asking the questions, when asked, it was a surprise and so my "memory" turned into scattered tidbits of days gone by. I will do that, though…and give it to them to put with all the others.

Another fun thing we did was to have Lindsey (Meg's Maid of Honor), begin a poem, by writing a line or two on a blank piece of paper about Meg & Clark. As the paper was passed around the room, each guest folded the paper over their words, and the next one wrote another line without seeing the previous one. We all thought it would be a hodge-podge of irrationality, but it actually turned out really great. Another treasure they will keep and look back on for years to come. We shared a lot of laughs with this one.

What a fun day we had!

Here's a few pictures of what happened yesterday. I didn't get as many (that turned out good), as I'd hoped to. Kudos to Lindsey, for inviting us to use her beautiful "Gone With the Wind" home, for this event and for helping out with the food and hospitality. Thank you, baby girl!

And remember…you'll always find me here…in Mary's World.

Signage next to front door. Countdown has begun!

My FAVORITE Starbucks goodies

Just a portion of our feast...

Date Night Idea Jar

the beautiful Bride to be

Thirsty anyone?

Filtered water infused with fresh apple slices
and stick cinnamon! Ummmm...

A place for everything, and everything
in it's place. Cards go here, please.

A little help for Meg. Please address an
envelope with your name & address.

A quick glance at the food table. Lindsey did a fabulous job of
picking out most of what you see here. Chicken Salad Sandwiches, Fancy Cheese & Crackers, Grapes, Strawberries, ham & cheese wraps, Berry Pie and Cake Pops from Starbucks! Holy Moly!!!

What a great surprise! Clark's sister that recently
moved to Canada, attended the shower by Skype!
Meg is getting into a really great family. I'm so happy!

Best Friends and Sisters!!!
Linds and Megs

The awesomely beautiful Meghan…our soon to be bride!

I've got to ask her what she was thinking about when I
took this picture. Who was coming in the door? Hmmm...

We didn't catch her first expression at seeing the table.
So she flashed us a smile instead.

What's That, You Say?

As a person who has no problem speaking her mind (and I mean that in a good way), I wish I could be more silent much of the time. But, silence seems to deafen me. It puts me in a lonely place and closes me in. I sat in silence for many years, as a physically and mentally abused person…afraid to speak, afraid to have an opinion. Trying to balance my life in Christ with the same brain that plays re-runs of a time in hell, can be challenging on occasion. As I remind myself, that is not my life anymore, I'm able to see more clearly. I know there is a balance to be had.

An ancient saying, "Two ears, one mouth" says we should listen more than we speak. The ears are always open, ever ready to receive instruction; but the tongue is surrounded with a double row of teeth, to hedge it in, and to keep it within proper bounds.

God has, over the course of my life, gotten my attention by what seems to be a good whacking, right between the eyes. That's my soft spot for recognizing insanity. Why I must be drawn back from it's edge on occasion, is (I suppose) irrelevant. I just seem to wander back to that "safe" place of mine.

That's the place where I know everything, but claim to know nothing, and act as though I'm the go-to person. And of course, that's said with tongue in cheek…barricaded with those aging, double rows of teeth.

Last night was one of those times. I call them "defining moments." You see, God is bringing me back from a time of solitude, to a safe place where I can once again, be a part of something bigger than myself. One would think that a person who has lived the length of years that I have, would know by now, the balance needed for something so simple as good conversations. I do…I just forget about it as I begin to feel acceptance. I know…there's so many things wrong with this. It's a good thing, on one hand..yet can quickly become a place of walking too close to the edge of insanity again.

The cool thing is, God does this to us without the person He's using to whack us, even knowing it. It's because it's a heart issue. A PERSONAL heart issue. He jumps to the chase and quickly yanks out a thorn, or at the very least, points to it's infection spreading area…so that we can extract it ourselves. He's God. He knows exactly what it will take for us to hear His voice, loud and clear. Yet, many times (most times), it's a gradually letting go, and He tells us it's totally up to us whether to extract or leave the thorn (enemy of our soul) in place. The pain that comes from removing something you've grown around, allowing it to become embedded into your character, is a struggle between, "but, this is who I am…this identifies me, it's my lifeline", to "how much am I willing to change and let God be the master instructor of my mouth (or whatever your thorn is…mine's my mouth)?" And we don't want to "throw the baby out with the dish water", so-to-speak.

Since we're talking about me, here…if I decided to never voice my opinion again, or to sit quietly (always), then God's voice, through my reliance upon Him, can't encourage others, can't instruct others, and can't love others with His acceptance of them, whenever they're around me. See, there's that balance I was speaking of. To withdraw completely would be just as damning as talking incessantly, consuming all the time given for one setting.

James 1:19 instructs us to be "swift to hear and slow to speak." Even though James was speaking about the nature of the Christian Jews, at become easily angered, we have to understand there is a truth much deeper than just controlling ones anger. How can we learn from others, if we are the ones always talking? There's a time and place for everything.

Please understand I am not advocating total silence, total abandonment of the voice God gave us. I'm speaking of balance. Naturally speaking, when my equilibrium is a little out of kilter, I stand with my feet planted, trusting them to steady me. Spiritually speaking, when my balance has become out of kilter, I stand with my heart positioned toward the One who created it, and trust it will steady me.

So…even though I've been freed from my silent prison of years ago, I still need to remember that silence can be good on occasion. ;)

And as always, here you'll find me…in Mary's World.

A Week End of Firsts

And this was the beginning of several "first's" for me!  It all started when our oldest daughter felt the need to make a bucket list for her aging mother…since I hadn't seemed too concerned about adventure outside my four walls.

Dennis and I looked forward, with great anticipation, to this past weekend, when we were to go camping with our daughter and son-in-law. Yet, since I had never been camping, I had a few reservations. For one, I do not get along with heat. Five minutes out in the elements of anything over 80 degrees, my whole upper torso becomes beet red and it feels like I am on fire. A true sight to behold.

Don't misunderstand...I love the summer months…if I'm on the inside of a 68 degree cooled down house.

For another thing, I like to look (and feel) as though I've done all I can to make this temporary house (my body), look as great as it possibly can. Sometimes I have to work really hard at that. Can't imagine wearing makeup in the wilderness. Or even finding a place to apply it. All sorts of insects would be drawn to that sweet smelling mess on my face, I'm pretty sure. And forget the body lotion! I'm seeing bugs of all sorts of sizes and shapes sticking right to that. Plus, can you imagine how hot the body would get from having skin moisturizers slathered on it? Can't wear any perfume, either! Bees or wasps would hunt me down.

Camping…well, that's a real mind warp for me. Why would anyone want to sleep with bugs, snakes, mosquitoes, and whatever other creepy crawly things are out and about in wooded areas? And, what about those weirdos who think they have a right to take you out (that's the calm version of slaughter you), just because they can. And, aren't there bears in the woods of North Carolina? Especially in the Appalachian Mountains? Don't they just love camp sites? And, how in the WORLD, do you keep yourself looking anyway but wickedly depleted?

But…there is very little (maybe nothing, actually) I wouldn't do, should either of my girls ask me to consider it. And, seriously…why not? The years seem to fly past us. It's time to experience some things out of my comfort zone. So now, I had the great opportunity to challenge my totally unrealistic fears. Or at very least, my fears.

So the journey began…

We stopped for lunch before heading to Grandfather Mountain. Dennis decided to carve our initials in the table. Cute, huh? That's pretty good, after 40 years of marriage. And what better way to start an adventure, than to watch as your husband declares his love for you through a bit of outward expression in a public place?

As any best laid plans usually get side-lined, it was no different with ours, on that Saturday. We were going to the mountains first…to take pictures and enjoy God's designing abilities amongst nature. Upon the mountain there's a wildlife habitat, a mile-high swinging bridge, and plenty of plant life that grows so majestically (one way because of the wind factor) on the most beautiful ridges, and in the crevices of the mountain, you'd ever expect to see.

We got to the entrance and the guard tells us they are closing earlier than usual to accommodate a 5K run. Seriously?!! On Grandfather Mountain? Geez, those are brave souls! Well, we decided to wait until Sunday after our zip lining schedule. I truly think God is quite the funny guy. But, it could be that He just wanted to show me what a great time I could have when I wasn't so concerned with how I look, but I wish He'd forewarned me. Well, in all fairness, maybe He did. Lindsey tried to tell me not to worry how I looked or what I might end up wearing. Should have thought that one through...

Yes…it rained on Sunday. It rained very hard. It rained even through the limbs and foliage of massive tree structure. It rained so hard that Dennis thought my mascara (sorry…had to have SOMETHING to show I really do have eyes) was running down my face. He was wrong however. I only use water proof mascara. What he was seeing, and what no one else felt necessary to tell me, was that I had MUD all over my face. Not just below my eyes. It was everywhere! On my forehead, my cheeks, my nose, my blouse…everywhere! Why could no one see that? Surely they didn't think they were freckles! Or maybe they're so used to seeing people that are mud splattered, they didn't think anything of it. So why was I the only one that seemed covered in the stuff? Yup…really funny, God.

Trusting others has been a HUGE issue with me for most of my life. And it came full circle this past weekend. I hated the game Trust or Dare, that was so popular when my girls were young. Their friends wanted them to participate in that crazy stupid game. Most of the time when someone was asked to trust that their "friend" would be there to catch them as they fell backward (supposedly into their arms), the friend would step back and let them fall hard onto the ground. It stirs me up just thinking about it. Zip Lining brought those memories back to me because you have to trust the cables are not going to let you fall 5,260 feet to a very painful death. You have to trust your ranger guides and the emergency brake knots. Poor Billy (a guide), he became the human emergency brake knot for me. Only once, though. And, in this case, once (out of 10) was enough! Lindsey gave me a new title. "I came in like a wrecking ball" Mary.

On this 10 wire tour, where humans are shot for great lengths over never ending tree and rocky cliff filled valleys…hanging by a couple of belts that are attached to a cable, (that you must hold onto...oh my, my heart is racing as we speak), you travel as much as 35 miles an hour. You are required to wear gloves with leather palms on the hand you use the most. That is the glove that helps you slow down when coming in for a landing at the next platform. You can't grab the cable…you must press down on it, behind you, to slow yourself down. Yet with all the rain, the cables became very hard to control. I could feel the heat from the friction when trying to slow this heavy-weight down. Most of the time I did pretty good, until that last one. I may have become a little cocky. Or maybe I was just anxious to get the last one under my belt, and back onto solid ground. I don't know what happened, except that I couldn't slow down, no matter how hard I pushed down on the cable. My hand felt the friction and like it was on fire as the skin ripped off the underside of my fingers. Coming in, I yelled, "I can't stop! I can't stop!" as the tree became bigger and bigger. Billy was trying to take a picture as I came within inches of my death. The speed of my decent was too quick…too fast…too so not okay. He dropped the camera and used himself, instead of the emergency rope, to block my certain demise. Maybe he really just wanted to save the tree…who knows. He had warned us, earlier, that should there be a need to use the "rope", it would not be pretty. Like hitting a wall…I will forever be grateful that he took a hit for me.

CUTE, EH? Look at that wet deck! That was wayyyy up in the trees. I have no idea how far up it actually was…but it was far enough. Dennis says I look Chinese.

See…cocky! Just when I was getting the hang of it, I was put back in my place by a much too slippery cable. However, Dennis was waaaayyyy more cocky than I was. He was called "the sleeper". Sorry, don't have that pic just yet. Both hands behind his head, he kicked back as though he didn't have a care in the world. It was during a relatively short cable (compared to the others), so he posed for the camera.

THE CAMP GROUNDS (at our camping spot), at Honey Bear Camping Grounds in Boone, NC.

AND OUR RESTING PLACE for Saturday Evening. Todd and Lindsey gave up their sleeping bag for the old folks, and used a much smaller one for themselves. What great kids! The flap you see in the back, actually zips down all the way, to let air in, but not creepy, crawly things, or flying things. The night got pretty cool as the rain came in. Had to zip the lining up just a bit, and snuggle deeply in the flaps of our sleeping bags.

During the night there were a couple of note worthy happenings. It was around the 1 a.m. time, that I heard what I thought was a camper preparing his lair for fowl play. I heard the fire crackle, only minutes after sounds of a shovel moving dirt from one area to another. The clanking sounds of the shovel hitting rock, and then the soft sound of dirt against shovel, caused my mind to paint various scenarios. A grave perhaps? Was he planing to burn his victims first, before throwing their remains in a shallow grave? What was he up to? I very quietly raised up on my knees to look out my little vent screen. Yes! The fire was blazing high. Ironically, the wood was making a beautiful sound as the flames leapt into the air. There he was…covered in shadows mostly, but none-the-less, he was visible as he stood poking the fire. Where was the open grave??? Shaking just a little, I decided I should just calm myself down. What if he saw me looking at him? Yikes! As I tucked back into my sleeping bag, I took a deep breath and it started to rain. This could either turn into a horror story, or a very soothing and relaxed sleep. What's it gonna be, Mary? I chose to let the raindrops sooth away my worries. And...he may choose Dennis instead of me. 

About 3 a.m. I had a bladder emergency. Our bath house was up the hill, across a lot, down a trail, and finally up a slight incline…about a 3-5 minute walk time in the dark. What to do, what to do? I'll try to hold it. But I knew right then that wasn't going to be possible. I also knew it would be fruitless to wake Dennis and ask him to go with me. I look at the time on my phone and see it's been long enough for the neighboring camper to have chosen his victim and done his deed. So, up I get…slip on my flip-flops and sneak very quietly behind the tent, off just a little towards the creek, and drop my undies under the tree covering. Ah…sweet release. 

I only have one more thing to say, for now. My body found ways to twist and turn, contorting in ways I never knew it could, until this past weekend. And for the record, my right bicep is tremendously sore today. Yes, I tried very hard to stop being a speeding bullet (that's a cannon bullet) on a wire, with a tree (and small human) as the target. Pressing down with all the strength in my arm,  I found that I would not brake in time. I also tried to reason with my mind and my body, that the camper was not out for blood, nor me. I found that I could not raise from a position on my back, to an upright position on my butt. I had to roll (I was already dropped), and fold in order to get on my knees to peer out the tent. 

Oh the joys of new adventures. Of first times. Of being loved and believed in. Of second chances.

So, this is enough of me for one blog entry. Wrapping it up, I thought you would enjoy this shot Lindsey got of me on the way home. I know some were wondering if I would survive. I was one of those people. 

I did…and here you'll find me, as usual…in Mary's World. 

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.