As many of you know in early spring

I experienced “divine inspiration”. It went like this.

God spoke to me saying ‘I want you to host an event’


me: what kind of event?


God: an event for women.


me: and what should I call this event?


God: Spring Break for the Christian Woman’s Soul!


me: what are we to do at this event?


God: invite your friends, nourish their bodies and souls.


me: (recipes running through my mind) what do I feed them?


God: keep it simple!


me: do you know me God, I don’t do simple?


God: you will for this day – then talk – speak from your heart.


me: I will do this for you Lord – anything else?


God: do it again!  


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While sitting in a meeting

the other day I was asked to write down 3 crises that have happened to me. I looked around the room and everyone else’s papers had ink on them, mine was blank.

I couldn't think of a personal crisis.
Glancing around, others were continuing to write. My paper is still blank.
It’s not that I haven’t had bad things happen to me, I just don’t view those times as a crisis.
I stated out loud I couldn't think of a crisis. Someone sitting adjacent to me replied you’re really lucky!

Hurriedly I wrote down ‘when my father was diagnosed with cancer.’ I didn't want to be the only one with a blank page.

When I went home that night I looked up the word ‘crises.’ I thought possibly I didn’t understand the definition. It said:

•      Dangerous or worrying time. A situation or period in which things are very uncertain, difficult, or painful, especially a time when action must be taken to avoid complete disaster or breakdown.

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I haven’t been feeling well this week;

in fact I’ve felt miserable. Rest has been the general consensus for recovery. I admit, I’m not a good rester.

During this 'respite' I've set up camp in my family room and I've noticed a few things. I swear when I focused long enough I could see a dust bunny form. I watched a single molecule of dust form a cloud like shape (much smaller of course) that only a vivid imagination (or one taking prescription meds) could discern as an identifiable figure.

Also, television heightened my education considerably. By mid September we'll no longer be able to watch Kate plus 8, so if you’re like me and didn’t watch it in the first place, you'll only have a few short weeks to catch up on it.

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I'm wondering what to do

with a whole lotta stuff.
Important stuff.
Valuable stuff.
Priceless stuff.

I’m truly not trying to build on George Carlin’s routine on stuff, though; I do feel we’re living it – literally.

Gary’s mom passed away recently and we’ve brought an apartment full of her stuff to our home. A couple of years ago she downsized her home and we brought the 1st installment of her stuff to our home then.

In the last few years we brought a truck full of stuff from my folk’s house. I might add for the purpose of humor only) that truck was bigger than the one we originally used to move our stuff when we moved in.  Bottom  line is we have been co-mingling the menagerie of our parents stuff with our stuff.

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Today, I learned there is a lesson to be

taught in every occurrence of each day. A very sweet lady by the name of Miss Lois taught me this while sitting in the play area of McDonalds.

I first noticed her while standing outside the parking lot reading the movies available in the Redbox stand. She had 4 little guys in tow. The young boys darted into the parking lot without looking both ways first.

Immediately she called them back to her car and drew attention to their lack of observation and taught them a lesson. She taught me one also once back inside the play place. I started a conversation with Miss Lois telling her I observed the loving lesson she taught the 4 young men just a few minutes earlier. She appreciated the fact I noticed how much she cared for those little guys.
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