CLEAN SHEETS ON THE BED

Simply typing the title of todays blog entry makes me want to inhale deeply, drawing in the fresh cotton scent of clean sheets that were just placed on the bed. There is something so inviting about them that simply calls to me. Pulling them out of the dryer begins the temptation to wrap myself inside. I've gone through this process thousands of times before and my reaction is always the same. I rush to the bed while the sheets are still warm and place the fitted sheet ever so quickly on the waiting bare mattress. With the same pace I place the flat sheet on top, careful to fold about 6 inches of the top down (I don't know what, it just matters that I do this) and then run my hand down the edge of the bed from top to bottom, feeling the heat from the dryer's exit escape through my fingertips. If I do this as rapidly as possible, I litterally feel the temperature of the sheets change beneath my hand. I love this feeling. I'm not sure I have described the pleasure it gives me well enough. I tuck the sheets in, using hospital corners if at all possible. With the mattresses of today getting thicker, or deeper as the industry calls it, the old sheets I have become accustomed to simply don't have enough excess to wrap under between the mattress and box springs like I would prefer. I make do, carefully putting the top sheet in place, checking all areas to make certain it is just so. And then it happens. Inhale. Breathing deeply inward I smell the freshness the clean sheets give off. They are beckoning to me, I hear them. They say, "Come, lay down, get comfortable, you have earned this moment!" There is something else speaking to me though. I hear another message in my head that says, "Don't mess those clean sheets up. Once you have used them, they are no longer clean, but are rather soiled." I fight this inner beast inside of me. Do I sit, lay down or stand reverantly? I'm so torn. The decision is made instantly. In the blink of an eye, the dillema is solved. In one quick leap, Shotzee lays downs, breaths in so deep that one might actually see the outline of his ribcage and then he closes his eyes and sleeps ever so peacefully on the once clean sheets on the bed. (Note to self: Add Tide to the grocery list. There will be sheets to be washed very soon.)

WHAT'S IN YOUR BACKPACK?

A friend sent me a facebook message that she was feeling very heavy and added that she felt her burdens were too much for anyone else to even carry along side her. She was feeling pretty low, huh? It got me to thinking, selfishly I hate to confess. I feel exactly like she sometimes, but I am learning a hard lesson along the "weighty" road.

I'm not very wise when it comes to interpreting scripture or actual theology, but what I see in my mind's eye tonight is me carrying a backpack of hopes and dreams and every so often when I hold them too close or covet them, and do not offer them up to God or I begin to believe more in the contents of my backpack than in God's plan and will for my life, I believe satan sneaks in, takes out a hope or a dream and puts in a heavy rock to burden me with - heaviness abounds. He sneaks in again and repeats the process when I'm not watching and waiting in prayer. Over and over this process happens. If I'm not careful the cunninng evil one eventually causes the load to be heavier than I can carry and as time has passed, I haven't noticed that it until it is overwhelming. I have to start emptying out the backpack, one by one, laying the stones at the Cross and asking God to fill me back up with His spirit, remind me of my calling and purpose, His will for my life, restore and renew my hopes and dreams and replace that empty backpack with all that He wants me to have, one by one. When I fill it up with what God wants me to, the backpack is so light and easy to carry, but what I don't see from my view is that the backpack is over loaded, busting at the seams and that God is helping me carry it with his hand underneath it and me as we walk along. With my strength renewed at the Cross, I find my walk easier, better, more joyful and oh so worth it. Simply going back to the cross, emptying out the junk and letting the Holy Spirit give me a refill makes all the difference.

Heaviness is never too much for God to help with and I want to be a Christian friend that helps others shoulder their burdens through prayer and fasting. I have also found that when I focus on someone else, my issues often times fade away. Perhaps they were not as big as I thought, they were resolved without my constant guidance or God simply whisked them away in his divine providence.

My backpack has been heavy, but right now, I'm emptying it out, placing my burdens down one by one, praying as I go. Oh what a pile of rocks I have.

In the old testament, a pile of rocks ofen signified where a battle had taken place. Believe me, the battle is raging. As my Dad would say, read the last chapter of the book (The Bible), see who wins. Perhaps our backpack is actually a piece of armour in disguise and once it is emptied, we are to use it as our shield or breastplate? Hmmm...he equips us for the battle! He makes a memorial from the stones to remind us of where we've been in battle!

I think I have some more emptying out of my backpack to do. It's lighter, much lighter actually, but there's more for me to do. What's in your backpack?

Derby Days, Hats, Wal-Mart and Old Friends, Oh My!

I have to admit, living with my parents has been interesting. Yes, I'm being cautious with my words in case they read this! Their love and support, not to mention hot meals and clean sheets to sleep on, have been great. I have been blessed and God has provided during my time of need. This has not been a time of lack as one might think. I have gotten to know my parents in a different way in the past few months. I listen more intently when Mother begins to tell a story of her childhood. She recalls the times of long ago fairly well, but knowing what took place this morning is becoming more and more difficult for her. I have asked questions about my parents dates, dances they attended and movies they watched over fifty years ago. I've seen them struggle the past few months with chronic illness that has stolen their energy. I'm glad I'm here, no matter how difficult it is to be the 47 year old jobless, homeless, vehicle-less convicted felon daughter. I see lemons turning into lemonade though! My temporary stay here is going from sour to sweet with each passing day I get to spend with my elderly parents.

It is unfathomable to think that just a year ago, I was so happy driving a car of my own(well, bank owned in all reality-huge monthly payments), living in a very nice house in a town I loved with a job that afforded me shiny objects. I like shiny objects, new things, the latest gadgets, tools for the kitchen etc. I went on vacations, attended college football games and purchased unnecessary necessities. Wal Mart trips were enjoyable, no-sweat activities. Go in, get what you want and leave with a basket full. I never asked where the next meal was coming from. There was always plenty. My job was a real blessing. Meeting monthly obligations was not a problem, it seemed. I am not bragging, just stating where I have been versus where I am now.

I loved the people I worked with too. I was fortunate to travel out of state, particular to Kentucky, Indiana and Texas. And yes, there was a feeling of prestige on my part for being able to fly here and there. I felt as important as the business man traveling next to me. Of course, he wasn't too happy sitting next to a large person. There were times people were rude about it too. I sat for hours in airports watching the jet-setting crowd. They were a definite mixture of personalities and each had a different idea of what "style" was in the clothing department. All races, upper income and lower were flying somewhere. I wondered where they were going? Often families were quite obvious about where they had been with their Mickey Mouse ears perched on each toddlers head as if they were crowned in a knight ceremony that very day. "I dub you Mickey and Minney's friend forever..do not remove the black plastic hat or you will succumb to an evil spell!" Adults and children alike complied, wearing the silly looking ears the entire trip home! I might have been a bit jealous, you think?

The onslaught of senior citizens traveling to see their grandchildren in far off places struck me as possibly sad and happy events all rolled up, tucked in a suitcase with walker, cane or wheelchair in tow. I was happy they had these seemingly pleasant events to look forward to, seeing their loved ones for a special occasion. But, it appeared to be very difficult for some of these people to function in this technologically advanced environment. Most appeared as if the "One Minute Plus" button on their home microwave was as far as they had ever gotten with today's bells and whistles. The boarding process was very simple in my mind with the carrier I was using, however for these same passengers, it was too much. I was relieved to see blue plastic pouches hanging from a leather strap around their necks. This pouch indicated they were eligible for pre-boarding. The gate attendant would escort them personally down the ramp to the waiting plane. This was not a simple courtesy by he airlines, rather it was a method to keep from delaying the boarding process with those that would be moving slow. Believe it or not, the blue pouch was envied by many, me included. I actually tried to get a blue pouch once. I didn't not get it. I was not feeling well and wanted off the plane as soon as it landed. I predetermined in my head that if I was first on the plane by using the blue pouch, I could get a bulkhead or front row seat. This would assure that upon arrival to my final destination, as soon as the plane came to a complete stop at the gate, I would unbuckle my safety belt and dash on out. Unfortunately, the gate attendant at this particular airport did not feel it necessary to attend to my needs in this manner. She simply looked at my ticket, asked me if I thought I should delay my trip since I wasn't feeling well and then directed me with a gentle hand gesture in the air to the seat by the window that was now vacant noting the near proximity to the restroom all with a gentle, yet demanding whisper. I felt defeated, but it all worked out just as she said it would and I was fine. Memories are made of moments like this!

I met some wonderful people in Kentucky and fell in love with the community they offered me. I was in Louisville at the time of the 2009 Derby Week. The festival is huge with many venues to pick from. I love crowds of people having fun so his was right up my alley! I flew back home on the Thursday before the actual Derby Horse Race on Saturday. I am not a horse racing fan, but the electricity in the air caused you to be suddenly interested. The colors of green grass and white pillars from Churchill Downs were posted on every street corner, constantly streamed over the television airwaves and the talk all week was of nothing other than Derby related items. I took notice instantly of the hat vendors that sold what once were plain straw hats, now layered with silk flowers and huge bows in hopes that the one wearing it would stand out in the massive crowd during the Run for the Roses. Celebrities were flying in from all over the world for this two minute race. I sincerely doubt if most were interested in anything other than the social status that being there brought them. As I passed through the airport to board my flight home, I saw swinging hat boxes hanging off the wrists of beautiful women. The boxes were absolutely gorgeous in and of themselves. I could not imagine the prize inside could be any more stunning than the box itself. The couture knew exactly what he was doing because the package created a desire to own the box, hold the box, see what was inside the box and if lucky enough, wear the creation upon your head watching chins drop as you strolled through the crowded area on race day! The images of wearing one of those hats were in my mind as I raced toward the "Now Boarding for Tulsa sign that had recently been illuminated.

When my assignment to Kentucky and Indiana ended, I was definitely sad. I had extended family there it seemed. I made life-long friends there. More than that, I learned many lessons there too. One of my co-workers was Tiffany. She was a single mother of 4 living on a $7.50 an hour job and happy every single day. She would laugh with while telling me of her middle son's shenanigans of the day before. She had a laugh that I will never forget, not for its distinct tone, but for the fact that it was contagious! She would start laughing and telling a story and before long, people were gathered around her, chuckling, belly laughing and even an occasional snort would come out of those listening intently to Tiffany talk on and on. Tiffany would also share her dreams of someday being the first one in her family to attend and graduate college. She called it "university" most of the time. She would say, "Deb, I'm gonna make my momma proud when I go to university!" I believed here then and I believer her now. It may take her a while, but I certainly can see her walking across that stage, unable to contain her giggles, smiling her pretty white smile, a stark contrast to her very dark African-American skin, and receiving a diploma that, for her, feels like a one way ticket out of poverty. I want to work with Tiffany again. I want to associate with here forever. I call her once in a while. She laughs, calls me by name before I even announce who I am and then we pick up right where we left off. She tells me about her kids latest accomplishment or what her Mam-maw fixed for Sunday dinner and we let time run away. Mam-maw (the term of endearment she calls here Grandmother) liked to fix very traditional southern cuisine. I would wince at some of the menu items and Tiffany would...you guessed it...laugh.

When I returned home for the final time, my perspective changed somewhat. I no longer had as strong of pull to flashy items. My focus changed to wanting to spend time with my Meme (the term of endearment the grandkids use for my mother) and less time in Wal Mart stocking up on unnecessary necessities.

I'm spending time with my parents for sure now and it is working out fine. No car, no job, no money, but I am blessed beyond belief. Tiffany taught me that! I can't wait to see her again. I hope she wears a big hat with bright pink flowers, but all she will have to do is laugh and I will know it is my old friend!

HERE A THOUGHT, THERE A THOUGHT

I am not really sure why I quit blogging a few months ago, but here I go again. I'm not making any commitment, but this truly is therapeutic for me, writing. Beware, my thoughts tonight are very disjointed, random, and even discombobulated, if you will. You might want to buckle up, this could be a very bumpy ride. Here goes!

Only two more months until the adornment on my ankle will be removed! A surprise visit from the probation officer brought me good news yesterday. At least it was good in my estimation. I asked him about the removal date of August 8th and that being a Sunday, I would assume I would have to remain in the bracelet until Monday, the 9th. He suggested I could cut the bracelet off myself on the 8th! Can you believe it? I am really thrilled that I get to ceremonial remove this appendage myself! He is double checking, just to make sure I don't cause some sort of alarm in Washington, DC or something! I wonder if you think its silly to be excited about getting this thing off one day earlier, but believe me, it will be the best nights sleep I will ever have - without the bracelet! My leg will not sweat under the thick rubber band that holds the device tightly against my skin.

I asked a lot of questions during his visit and was satisfied with the answers. One huge continual concern was that I would not be able to visit my grandkids for 5 years without severe limitations and lots of red tape. He assured me, as long as things continue going as well as they are (read: as long as you don't screw this up...) then I could even be approved to visit my family in Kansas on a once a month basis. Can you believe it? Praise the Lord for working this out, that's what I'm saying!

Also, the judge sentenced me to 5 years probation, but did publicly mention that he was surprised himself to find out that it could be terminated after 1 year was served under certain circumstances. I asked yesterday for more details and the PO suggested we wait until 2 1/2 years and request probation be terminated then as it is more likely then. So, the way I see it, I will be done with this "stuff" by fall of 2012. That is so much better than 2015 as was earlier dictated.

Another issue is the 50 hours of community service. I have not done any of this because my back hurts so bad, I doubt I can do what will be asked of me at the one place they have to serve. I asked him about another option and he is checking into it. It would be service for the Kingdom instead of man if it all works out!

Do you see a pattern here? When all of the rules and limitations were placed on me, I gave unto Caesar what was Caesar's, but I cried out to God for help and he has already performed miracles in my favor. Sure, I would like to be free from all of these burdens now, but I guarantee you I am closer to God now than I was 3 years ago and He is being glorified, which I believe is one of the purposes in this happening in the first place.

Now, don't get me wrong, the days are long, the nights are short and my dog gets me through a lot of lonely times. The job search continues, the rejection still comes at me like darts flying in the air and landing on my heart. The satan imposed shame and guilt associated with the conviction lingers in the air like a dark cloud over my head. But through it all, "I know whom I have believed and am persuaded that he is able, to keep that which I've committed unto him against that day!" This may be a lyric to an old hymn, but it really is what my spirit is singing on a regular basis.

Am I getting to heavy for you? Okay, that was not a physical heavy - type question. I meant heavy as in deep, burdensome, weary, difficult to carry type of heavy. I don't want to do that so let's lighten this up a bit, shall we? (BTW, I already know the answer to the too heavy as in physical weight gain type question - whoa Nellie, I'm plump!)

So what shall we talk about next? Hmmm...we could talk about....well there's that one time....nope, that's not a good story to tell....what about that thing....nope, don't want to tell you that either. I think I will close this blog entry for now and give you something to laugh about another time. Right now, let's just praise the Lord together for all He has done for each of us and all He has planned for our lives and pray that our steps are ordered by Him! Agree with me? I thought you would, in Jesus' name! Amen! Let it be so!