Bye bye Cora, Hello Fiona

Well, that didn't take long.  One summer camping in a 23-foot travel trailer changed our lives.  We were hooked.  Glamping, it seems, has become an obsession.  So much so that we sold our dear little Cora and bought great big Fiona.  A 30-foot Jayco.  

It was sort of hard for me at first.  Letting go.  She was so very cute, our little Cora, and she had personality and was just the perfect little weekender trailer.  However, we found out that weekends weren't our bag.  2 or 3 weekers were our bag, so to speak.  So, we sold Cora, and when Fiona arrived, we packed her up, and away we went.  It's true, Fiona doesn't quite have the same looks or personality as Cora, but I've tried hard to make her homey.  We decided that we'd travel for 2 weeks every month.  We started in April.  We've gone from Virginia to Michigan to New York and all points in between.  I am now exhausted.  No, not really.  I had fun.  And I'm a little tired.  I'll admit it.  

Fiona, though, is pretty stinking awesome if I do say so myself.  She's big, has 2 recliners, a fold-out sofa bed, a nice sized dinette, tons of storage, a huge shower, more storage, and a real closet in the bedroom.  I'm in glamper heaven.  Camping for 2 weeks or more in Fiona is just like living in a really tiny house.  In fact, we now call her our little Paris apartment on wheels.  The only thing missing is a washer/dryer.  And most campgrounds have very nice laundry rooms.  So, I'm all set. 

And we did get to go to most of the locations that we were shut off last year due to the pandemic.  Finally.  It's been a great summer.  We still haven't camped in Canada yet, but will most likely be able to go without restrictions next spring.  That's our hope, anyway!  We've had our vaccines, including our boosters, and predictions are that the virus is waning, so we're praying hard for some sort of normalcy to return.  It has felt much better this year.

It's kind of funny, this nomad life of ours.  I love going, yet about halfway through our trips, I am overwhelmed with homesickness.  I ride it through, though, and then I'm good to go for another week.  I think we're home now for most of the fall months, we might do a weekend or 2 here or there, and then winter will set in.  

I'm sure we will sit down on some snowy evening, fireplace burning, laptops opened, and we'll be planning our spring/summer trips for next year.  We're already talking about going to Yellowstone, Canada, and the East Coast shoreline.  

For me (I'll just speak for myself), I am feeling an urgency due to age, I think.  I want to travel, see the sights, hike, and explore--before my energy runs out.  I know, hard to imagine.  But the feeling is there deep down inside.  Go now, before it's too late.  It's got to be an age thing.  

And, then, there's Europe.  Oh, man.  How I long for Europe.  I want to get on a plane and fly so badly.  I want to step off that plane and hear a foreign language.  I want to walk cobblestone streets again and eat great food.  I want to see old buildings and be in a different culture.  And hotels!  Did I mention hotels?  I haven't stayed in a hotel in almost 2 years.  That's a record for me!  When will it happen again?  I don't know.  When it does, though, I'll write about it.  Oh, will I ever!  However, until then, it's all about the glamping life.  

Call Me Ina

It happened like this.  

It was a strange day. To begin with, I woke up a little sad. It's not unusual for me to wake up needing 3 cups of coffee before conversing, but I don't usually wake up sad. However, that particular morning, I did. And my husband suggested a ride and a brunch date in trying to cheer me up. It was a lovely day, with sunshine but a little too much wind. Too cold to sit outside anyway, so we opted to ask for a table indoors when we arrived at one of our favorite restaurants. 

I couldn't believe it when they said they were full and wouldn't be able to seat anyone else, as they were closing soon. I was (again) so sad. So, we decided to order food to go and have a car picnic instead. We have been having those over the last few months due to this pandemic situation that we all find ourselves in. We've been making the best of our new normal. Now that restrictions are being lifted, though, we've been having fun going out to eat, shopping, and trying hard to have a life again.

So, although on this bright sunshiny day, when we thought our plans were ruined, God had a different plan. It turns out I was about to have a "God moment" or a "divine appointment". I was about to see God at work around me.  

As I was waiting for our order to be brought upfront, and as my husband went to go get our parked car--unbeknownst to me, I was being observed. And as I was paying for my order and then starting for the door--a young woman was also going towards the door. I immediately stepped back and insisted she go first; of course, she did the same. We laughed, and I walked out and then held the door for her. It was comical; we both were smiling, even with our masks on. 

As we were standing outside the restaurant, ready to go our separate ways, she asked if she could ask me a question. Sure, I said.

She said, has anyone ever told you that you look like Ina Garten? And I laughed and said yes. It's my haircut, I have a round face, and I'm short. She smiled and said, I think it's because you look so cute and lovely. Your outfit is so cute, too. Ina seems so sweet, like someone you want to hug, and you know she'll hug you back. She looks so approachable, and so do you.  

Tears sprang to my eyes, and I was then so happy that I had a mask on. I wanted to go right over and give her a hug, and I know she felt the same way. Covid has a way of stopping those hugs; we've all been conditioned to stay 6 feet apart! But, you see, I've been so lonely this last year. Since I haven't been around people, I haven't been able to "minister" to anyone. I've been complaining quite a bit to God in my prayer time. How does a person with a counseling ministry counsel during a pandemic? How do I comfort people, hug people, and pray for people? It's been so hard. Or shall I confess--heartbreaking? That's how it's been for me these past few months.

And then, right there in front of a bit of brunch place stands a young lady, probably in her 20's or 30s, wanting to either get a hug or give a hug, and she speaks up and says something! That's why it was a God moment. However, I was the one who was ministered to that morning. In just those few moments, I received a spiritual hug from God. It meant the world to me. As my husband pulled up and I got into the car, I could barely speak. I needed time to process what had just taken place. God had met me in a real time of need. An emotional need, but a need nonetheless. 

And that is how He works. He heard my prayer. He saw what my heart needed. And He answered me when I called. He used another human being to come alongside and say--you look huggable, and you look nice and safe. It's the way God made me, the way God uses me. And it made my day.  

I know myself. I know what I'm going to do now. I'm going to be praying every day for that young woman. So that--if she doesn't know God, she'll meet Him.  And if she does know God, she'll let herself continue to be used by Him. I'm going to look for her every time we go to that little restaurant on the other side of town. I'll never forget her. She ministered to me that day. And I hope she prays for me too. I hope she prays for Ina. 

Kids These Days

I'm going to ask your forgiveness before I even begin writing this blog.  It might hurt a little.  It did for me.  Taking that long look back, seeing where I failed, asking God to forgive me, and then praying that I didn't leave any long-lasting scars. 

You see, what I have learned over these past 6 plus decades of life is that it's all in the modeling--raising kids, that is.  You lead, they follow.  Whether we want them to or not.  They do what we do.  They see it all.  And much to our chagrin, they're just like us.  The good and the bad.  

What prompted me to begin this?  Millennials.  And those who don't like them.  As in, those who constantly complain about them.  Those millennials, they say.  As if it's such a derogatory word.  What I want to ask is--who raised them?  Those silly millennials with their heads in the clouds, making mistake after mistake, and most definitely not doing what they're told.  Who in fact raised them?  

There it is.  There's the truth staring right back at us.  The mirror.  Why did no one tell us that our kids would be a direct reflection of us--that is my question!  Maybe I would have tried harder--parenting I mean.  Maybe I would have been just a little more like Jesus and a little less like me.  

So, what brought this on?  People on social media complaining, blaming and calling out the kids in their 20's and 30's.  Call them out all you'd like, however, you're looking in a mirror.  And, maybe, just like me, you can admit that you might have failed, at least in some respect.  At least concerning the parts about them that you don't like. Let's break it down, shall we?

What exactly did your kids see in your home?  You know, the one you raised them in?  Did they see what the Bible refers to as the Fruit of the Spirit?  Love, joy, peace, and patience?  Or did they see meanness, sadness, arguing, and impatience?  For me, honestly, it depended upon the day.  I tried, I did.  However, sometimes, ok, most of the time I failed.  Sometimes I didn't show much love.  And there were many days when being joyful wasn't on my calendar.  Peace?  With 3 kids?  You've got to be kidding me!  There were many days when I wondered if I'd get through those child-rearing times.  And what about the times people would pull out in front of me on the freeway and cut me off and oops, there I'd go, yelling at them again! Patience?  Fail.  

I know what my kids saw at home.  I was there.  They saw a mom who failed many many times and then got back up the next morning to try all over again.  Which made me wonder--who did I parent like?  My folks or Jesus?  I often wondered what Jesus would have been like as a father--with his own kids.  I could just imagine Him sitting there patiently, reading them stories, talking to them about faith, being so patient and kind.  It's what I strived for.  That being like Jesus thing.  

There's no way I can/could blame my kids for the way they turned out.  All their faults are mimicking mine.  Their impatience, their lack of peace or joy, they are in the truest sense, a carbon copy of my husband and myself--the good and the bad.  

At some point in their child-rearing times, I made a decision.  I was going to try.  And try-hard.  I was going to be my very best, as best as I could.  I would pray every morning that God would give me patience, kindness, joy, peace, and love.  I prayed every day that I would be a good mom.  Instilling values, principles, and love.  I knew if my kids needed a role model, I'd be it.  I'd be the one who they patterned their lives after, and if I didn't like something that I saw, I would correct it, in them and in me.  I learned to apologize for my bad parenting skills and I also learned to thank God every time He showed me a better way to parent.  

I guess what I'm trying to ask is why?  Why are people exclaiming about the youth of today?  They made them, they were their role models.  If you don't like what you're seeing, then maybe examine your own lifestyle (and heart) and change that.  It isn't the millennial's fault.  Not at all.  They are doing nothing more than what they were taught.  Own it, parents.  And, if you don't like it, change it.  Learn to ask them for forgiveness, learn from your mistakes, pray for them, and stop asking--what's wrong with kids these days.  

100 Years

I have just finished priming and painting 6 large pieces of furniture.  One is a very big old hutch, which I turned into a coffee bar and the other 5 pieces being our entire bedroom set.  Uggg, talk about tons of work, and yet, so satisfying.  I thoroughly enjoyed myself.  As I primed each piece, a vision began to take place, and then when applying the final coat of paint, wow!  I absolutely loved the outcome.  Everything turned out as expected, which, when you think about it, doesn't happen very often.  There's usually some tweaking to do, but not in this case.  I'm in love with everything I painted.  And, I'm ready for more.  I've decided that a furniture hunt might be in my future.  

I have also tiled a kitchen backsplash and a bathroom floor, and we put in euro-style shower doors.  We're now refinishing our hardwood floors in the family room.  And, in a month or so, we'll be replacing the carpet in the living room with new hardwood flooring.  So many changes, so much fun.  Most we do ourselves, some we have done. professionally.  Fortunately, we know our limitations. 

During my adventure in painting, my mind wandered and wandered far.  I had many hours to daydream, which by the way, is one of my favorite things to do.  I thought about where this furniture might end up in 100 years.  You see, I took perfectly good solid wood pieces that were to the normal eye, in great shape.  However, I was tired of it.  The bedroom furniture had been in my possession for almost 20 years.  I needed a change.  I could either sell it as is, for pennies on the dollar or I could paint it.  My choice.  So, I did the latter.  

As for the hutch, I bought it from a private party.  She had had it for years and just wanted to get rid of it. She needed a change also.  I understood.  So, I brought it home and proceeded to prime and paint her.  I separated the pieces and affixed the upper part of the hutch to the wall as if it were part of my kitchen cabinets and then put the sideboard part underneath for all my coffee needs.  It's amazing.  Did I mention that I painted her red?  Yep, I did.  I don't have what you'd call a normal kitchen.  I don't like the same old-- same old.  I personally like to add a twist.  Sometimes more twisty than others.  For example, my Boos butcher block island has red legs.  I could have chosen black or white legs but no, I wanted red.  I purchased it with the pure intention of building my new kitchen around it.  I also have Mexican tiles for my backsplash.  Bright?  Bold?  Different?  Oh yes.  And now a bright red coffee bar that takes up most of one wall.  It houses all things drinkable in my kitchen.  From coffee to tea to hot cocoa to carbonated drinks--there's even a cupboard for wine.  It's awesome.  It was a little country-looking when I brought it home, so I de-countryfied it by removing some bric-a-brac and adding a feature or two of my own.  I love it.  It's perfect for me.  However, one day, say, in 100 years--it might not be perfect for the next person who owns it.  They might look at it and think--who in their right mind would paint this beautiful hutch red?  Well, I would, and I did.

I was a little more subtle in my paint choice for the bedroom.  In the meantime I have been antiquing away and had purchased several Frenchy-looking items--a chandelier, some brass, a few (yes, more than one) mirrors, and so I decided to use a quiet soft color for my bedroom furniture.  I chose a darker gray.  I started on one nightstand to see if I liked it and boy, did I!  It was beautiful.  It took me the better part of 2 weeks to complete 5 pieces of furniture, but now that it's all done, it was well worth the work.  Our master bedroom looks amazing.  The dark gray with blue, gray, and beige accents look good together--all the items meshing well, with the room coming out even better than expected.  

The things we've done to this older home astound me.  We've worked hard.  For almost 3 years we've put in hours upon hours of sweat and hard work.  We've put in a new kitchen and bathrooms, and we've painted everything.  We've rebuilt the front porch, put in a pantry where a hallway existed, put in a fancy "mudroom" area, and generally, have redone every room.  And then some!  I've loved everything so far.  It makes me happy to walk through the rooms and think--we did this.  We are DIYers for sure.  We have a lot more to do.  And it's so fun to think about.  However, I also want to enjoy our downtime.  It gives me time to think (daydream) about future ideas for this house.  I'm thinking a screened-in sunroom might be in our future.  Don't tell my husband.  He needs time to recuperate in-between my projects. 

So, all of this got me thinking.  In 100 years, well after I'm dead and gone, long after my kids and grandkids have decided that they have absolutely no interest in keeping grandma's old (solid wood, remember) furniture--who will buy it?  Most likely it'll end up in some old barn sale.  Someone with a wild imagination will see that bright red hutch and think--oh, I know what I'll do with that!  And they'll take it home and most likely strip the paint and restore it to its intended color or stain.  They'll take my personality right off and apply their own.  And that's ok.  I understand.  It's just that I'd love to be there to hear their thoughts and ideas as to what to do with it next.  I'd love to be that proverbial fly on the wall--I want to hear them exclaim--who would do this?  Who would paint this red?  Who?  She must have been some wild old lady!  

And I wonder (in 100 years) as people walk through our home in anticipation of perhaps purchasing--what will they think of my choices?  Will they undo the pantry?  Put the doors back on the entry closet?  Remove the hutch from the wall?  What colors will be trending then?  What colors for tile will they choose?  

Yep, in 100 years, someone will have a new and better idea.  Someone will buy these old pieces of furniture and give them new life.  Someone else will love them the way I do.  Someone will paint these old walls new colors, change my tile and put in new floors.  I think about things like that when I buy my little treasures--my little decorator pieces, antiques, and whatnots.  I think about all that.  History moving through our lives in the way of furniture, living in different homes, with different people, changing colors, and living new lives all over again--in 100 years.

I'll Say It Again

I said it so many times I wanted to scream.  I warned friends and family members, anyone who would listen, really.  I knew, I just knew.  Maybe as an INFJ my intuition was kicking in full throttle, but I think it was God genuinely speaking to my heart.  Many Christain friends disagreed with me on this issue.  You're wrong, they said.  He isn't like that at all.  He is God's chosen.  However, I just didn't buy it.  I could feel the heart of this person with every single word he spoke.  He was and still is a lying deceiving man.  He felt/feels demonic to me.  A wolf in sheep's clothing.  The anti-christ.  Small a.  The opposite of Christ. 

I was in complete shock at first.  How in the world did he win?  I was stunned.  And then slowly as reality began to sink in, as I realized that there was so much more going on behind the scenes, I knew it was true. This was not a war between flesh and blood, the Bible calls it a war between principalities and powers.  It was beginning to happen before our very eyes.  The beginning of the end of Christianity as I/we knew it.  For a time anyway.  Christians began to worship him rather than God.  They tossed aside the teachings of Christ and followed a man rather than God.  They deny it of course.  They are blind and cannot see.  I see it though.  I do.  The hatred, bigotry, racism, sexism.  The bullying, name-calling, etc.  His filthy, dirty language became the norm.  They called it rhetoric.  I heard it, I saw it.  Didn't you?

My heart began a slow horrible breaking process.  I watched as people began to believe the lies.  One by one they fell under his cultish curse--until hatred took over their minds, hearts, and souls.  One thing I knew for sure--this was not of God.  Not even a little.  This was a cult in the making.  This was a satanic move to grab the hearts of people who while professing to believe in God, His Word, and teachings--really knew very little of them.  They were, as the Bible teaches, being tossed to fro with every wind of doctrine.  They were hung up on one issue.  Abortion.  It's interesting to me the satan chose this topic to rally the troops.  Abortion.  They called me a baby killer.  All because I would not bend to the almighty Trump.  And, when I objected, I was told that I was delusional.  As a Democrat--how could I be pro-life?  And yet, I am.  There are many of us out there, you know.  Many.  Also, I do not believe in capital punishment, and yet during his 4 years in office, he sent many to their deaths, more than any other president.  Pro-life, I think not.  Pro-birth?  Maybe.  And then there was the separation of children from parents as they came from other countries seeking asylum.  Torn from their mother's arms, and thrown in cages like animals.  But hey, at least they weren't aborted, right?  Or is that concept just for American babies?  I've wondered. 

This was a power grab.  The great deceiver had won--for a time.  He came to steal, kill and destroy the body of Christ.  To turn families against each other, to destroy life long friendships, and to cause great anguish among our country and even the world.  True believers were praying hard.  Open their eyes oh God, let them see the truth, take the veil from their eyes.  At least that's how I prayed. 

I prayed hard, I took a lot of criticism, I even had (on-line) death threats.  My heart broke as people took sides.  And yet, I took a side.  I sided with the disenfranchised, I stood with the poor, the children in cages, the unloved.  I had many ask me why I wasn't standing up for the unborn.  I was.  However, in doing that, I also stood for the already born.  I was called names, made fun of, told I wasn't a Christian, and a lot of other things, and that's ok.  I can take it.  I know who I really am.  I know that I try my hardest to know God, to please Him, and to do His work.  As I read the words of Christ, I know that He also took a stand--for the disenfranchised, the poor, the children.  So I'm OK.  I'll be OK.  

And then today happened.  We elected a new president. My heart went from being overburdened to lightened with joy and hope.  I understand that not everything will be perfect.  I'm not that simple-minded.  I understand that it isn't about a political party.  I understand that there will be times when I disagree with our new administration, however, I will know, deep down in my heart, that at least as a nation we are trying now.  We're finally back on the road towards treating people with love, acceptance, and forgiveness.  That's my goal anyway.  To be more like Jesus and less like me.  Less division, less selfishness, less all about me/us, and more about them/others.  More about respect and kindness.  More about understanding.  More about catching flies with honey.  You see, I am pro-life.  I hate abortion.  However, if you know that I love you and care about you, you just might come to me ( if you wanted to talk about abortion) and share your heart with me, and we just might come to an understanding.  I might be able to steer you in a different direction.  Maybe not.  However, it would be done in love.  I feel the same way about divorce, abuse, and many other subjects.  I'm not hung up on just the one.  That's the difference between me and them.  I come from a place of loving your enemies.  Not hating them, not screaming obscenities in their faces, not showing up with assault rifles, etc.  

I sometimes wonder what our country (or world) would be like if local churches took their rightful places in this nation as givers.  Givers of time, money, and comfort.  Givers of heart, listening, and love.  What if?  Let's change it all now.  Let's be more like Jesus.  Let's forget about the why and just be the who--to people in need.  Let's stop judging, throwing people out, building walls, calling names, and bullying.  Let's take care of each other.  Let's change.  Shall we?  Let's be a better nation this time.  We've got 4 years to change, 4 years to be better, 4 years to show the world that we can and are one nation under God.  Wouldn't that be amazing?   

If in reading this, you disagree with me, that's ok.  I just pray that you are able to see my heart.  You can have your own opinion.  I won't judge you for that.  Please don't judge me for mine.  Let God do that.  If you don't like what I write about, pray for me.  God will show me the error in my ways, He is faithful and just. 

In the meantime, if you are a true believer, a follower of Jesus Christ--pray.  Pray like never before.  Pray that God changes the hearts of mankind.  Pray for our nation, pray for fewer abortions, divorce, abuse, bullying, suicide, etc.  Pray for marriages, families, and your neighbors.  And most of all, show love.  And remember the words of Christ--perfect love casts out all fear.  So much of what we say and do is brought about by fear.  Remember that the next time you encounter fear.  Pray and love your neighbor as yourself.  It's a great start anyway.