Somewhat at a quandary as to what to post today. I'm excited about my NaNoWriMo novel. I have put the most of me into the character, but she is not me. Her name is Maria Wilson. The setting is modern day, in eastern Ohio, because I did want to distance myself some from her. Is the park setting Mill Creek Park? Probably not. This is a fictional account-hence fiction. I always think of Dragnet, when I write.
But writing one's experience is easier. I chose this story of modern day family so I could just let the words flow. Part of NaNoWriMo is frenzied writing. Katie took up this challenge for a few years and when she sees me lifting my head to chose a word, she prompts "purple." You see the key is to just write, then edit later. That is just a bit hard for me. I find though if I read a little of what I wrote the day before, I have missed a word or two and that adds to the word count.
I feel I need a break from the election and my memories today. A little break. I find with my novel, I write so much, then as I told Katie, "I have to let it breathe." Before a particularly rough scene, I left it alone for the night, because I didn't want to dream about it. Imagining it and writing it was enough for me.
I'm behind a few words to meet the target of 50,000 on November 30. I want to get ahead as we know how a month can bring challenges we're not expecting. I hope to finish this year and be a municipal liaison next year for Shenango Valley. I love writing and I have found I inspired two ladies to start a blog.
So on to Summer Triangle. Memories start tomorrow again. Can we all use a little high school?
Friday, November 9, 2012
Thursday, November 8, 2012
A Word to Sad Friends
This is a post for my friends who are sad about the election. I wanted to download a picture of an eagle with its head bent over and the caption "Sad day for America" but I can't figure it out and I don't want to waste time doing that.
I have felt strongly though that just as I encourage Christians to read the Bible daily to hear from God and to know what it says, that Americans need to know the Constitution. How else can we pray for those in authority with a working knowledge of what is expected of them?
So I signed up to take a free college course on the Constitution from Hillsdale College- https://constitution.hillsdale.edu/page.aspx?pid=1186
1 Timothy 2:1-4 encourages us to pray for our leaders so we may live peaceful and quiet lives. I read this a few months ago and I repented that I too often didn't do this. I get caught up in the arguments. The debate isn't bad. We need to express our ideas. It is being called names by people you don't know that struck deep inside me. Of course, I want to fight back, but I tried to be witty, instead. One called me an *ss wiper and I wrote back, "Yes, I am. I wiped many in my thirty years of nursing." I ended up deleting the joking remarks because I felt the person who's Face book page it was on I didn't know well enough to be stirring up trouble. Besides, I saved his dad's life once and that is how we connected when his dad twenty five years later was dying. I kept updated and prayed for him. I couldn't be hateful toward anyone on his comments.
We may not have peace in this divided country. I need peace in my soul. I need to do what the Bible tells me. We have to look at this historically. Did you know before the first Great Awakening back in the 1700's a majority of Americans were alcoholics, even children as young as eight to ten years old? Life was rough for them. Very few attended church, mostly because they didn't have one to attend. Most couldn't read even if they did have a Bible.
We have to look at this historically. As I referenced Abe Lincoln the other day, the country was so divided it caused Civil War. (I happened to find the small paperback book this morning-Abraham Lincoln, by Anne Colver- $0.50 and after all those years I pretty much remember this simple prose verbatim.)
I am with my friends who are sad. We are grieving for a country we may never see again. But we must remember as Christians, this is not our home. We love the people, we love the land and we pray for it, but our hearts are not to be too deeply entwined with it. I have a peace that this is where we should be going for the Kingdom plan. And if not, this is a pendulum that swings as always. People may think we are wrong, old fashioned, bigoted, intolerant, and many things I won't write, but please just pray for them, give them a cup of cold water, a word of love. Who knows this may be a chance to shine in the darkest hour?
I suppose as an old curse (or blessing-not sure) May you be born in interesting times(or the opposite for the blessing), is true today. We are surely living in interesting times. Look to Heaven. We still had a peaceful election and at least in Mercer County, we had a good turnout of 65%.
Read the Book and study up on the Constitution.
I have felt strongly though that just as I encourage Christians to read the Bible daily to hear from God and to know what it says, that Americans need to know the Constitution. How else can we pray for those in authority with a working knowledge of what is expected of them?
So I signed up to take a free college course on the Constitution from Hillsdale College- https://constitution.hillsdale.edu/page.aspx?pid=1186
1 Timothy 2:1-4 encourages us to pray for our leaders so we may live peaceful and quiet lives. I read this a few months ago and I repented that I too often didn't do this. I get caught up in the arguments. The debate isn't bad. We need to express our ideas. It is being called names by people you don't know that struck deep inside me. Of course, I want to fight back, but I tried to be witty, instead. One called me an *ss wiper and I wrote back, "Yes, I am. I wiped many in my thirty years of nursing." I ended up deleting the joking remarks because I felt the person who's Face book page it was on I didn't know well enough to be stirring up trouble. Besides, I saved his dad's life once and that is how we connected when his dad twenty five years later was dying. I kept updated and prayed for him. I couldn't be hateful toward anyone on his comments.
We may not have peace in this divided country. I need peace in my soul. I need to do what the Bible tells me. We have to look at this historically. Did you know before the first Great Awakening back in the 1700's a majority of Americans were alcoholics, even children as young as eight to ten years old? Life was rough for them. Very few attended church, mostly because they didn't have one to attend. Most couldn't read even if they did have a Bible.
We have to look at this historically. As I referenced Abe Lincoln the other day, the country was so divided it caused Civil War. (I happened to find the small paperback book this morning-Abraham Lincoln, by Anne Colver- $0.50 and after all those years I pretty much remember this simple prose verbatim.)
I am with my friends who are sad. We are grieving for a country we may never see again. But we must remember as Christians, this is not our home. We love the people, we love the land and we pray for it, but our hearts are not to be too deeply entwined with it. I have a peace that this is where we should be going for the Kingdom plan. And if not, this is a pendulum that swings as always. People may think we are wrong, old fashioned, bigoted, intolerant, and many things I won't write, but please just pray for them, give them a cup of cold water, a word of love. Who knows this may be a chance to shine in the darkest hour?
I suppose as an old curse (or blessing-not sure) May you be born in interesting times(or the opposite for the blessing), is true today. We are surely living in interesting times. Look to Heaven. We still had a peaceful election and at least in Mercer County, we had a good turnout of 65%.
Read the Book and study up on the Constitution.
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
Hope Still
Now if I can live up to my post yesterday. I can't stay up late on Face book, for sure. Let's hope and pray that Obama, too, lives up to what he said yesterday. Hey, he didn't write that!H
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
Do My Part
I think on this election night of reading the story of Abraham Lincoln's first election night as president. We did the Lincoln trail when Diane attended college in Sterling, Kansas. Mom and Dad bought me books about Lincoln at the stops and I also read many from the library. Lincoln's sons, in one of the books, sat on the gate posts, asking people if they wanted to see "Old Abe" for a nickle.
I just think how innocent those times were. Politics were dirty back then, maybe more than now. Yet, the President elect's sons could stay out in the evening dusk under torches and make a little money on the side.
A picture posted of the Obama family four years ago shows them sequestered in a room, watching results on TV. That is the only way I remember knowing election results. The first I had any interest in was Nixon/Humphry. Growing up in a strong Democrat region, of course, I was for Humphry. Actually, I wanted Lyndon Johnson because he looked like a grandpa. Lydon, as you remember didn't even try to run.
I could stay up on this night to watch the only thing on television, the election returns. A mock election in each classroom was held in my second grade. Nixon won in my classroom. Disgusted by the backers of the winners cheering and one boy's stomach showing as his shirt crawled up his fat belly as he put his hands together above his head, I thought I don't want to act(or look) like that.
I have been passionate about my politics. Years ago, it seemed we could argue, then still be friends. We loved discussing issues in classes, if we weren't too apathetic. Chevy Chase did a wonderful Gerald Ford, but we loved that grin the first time Jimmy Carter ran. He just seemed cooler than old Gerald Ford.
The 1968 election made the biggest impact on me, though. I wouldn't actually vote until 1979, but I kept up with the news. I loved the process and that we lived in a country where we had a choice.
So, it's too late to remind you to vote, if the twenty to thirty calls a day for the last week didn't remind you. I mean, honestly, didn't you want to just scream, "I'll vote, just don't call me!"?
The Facebook posts, pictures and down right nastiness at times couldn't let you forget either. The stories of how women fought for our right to vote just a few short years ago in 1920 moved me. How could you not vote?
But now that election is over, let's us pray together for whoever will stand with his hand on a Bible on January 20, 2013 and is the leader of this land. The president is a policy maker, a symbol for what the country stands. He can't deliver all that is promised. We need to pray for his wisdom. We need to read the Constitution to know the expectations for the president. And we need to be a country united in harmony. I promise to do my part. And that's not an election day promise.
I just think how innocent those times were. Politics were dirty back then, maybe more than now. Yet, the President elect's sons could stay out in the evening dusk under torches and make a little money on the side.
A picture posted of the Obama family four years ago shows them sequestered in a room, watching results on TV. That is the only way I remember knowing election results. The first I had any interest in was Nixon/Humphry. Growing up in a strong Democrat region, of course, I was for Humphry. Actually, I wanted Lyndon Johnson because he looked like a grandpa. Lydon, as you remember didn't even try to run.
I could stay up on this night to watch the only thing on television, the election returns. A mock election in each classroom was held in my second grade. Nixon won in my classroom. Disgusted by the backers of the winners cheering and one boy's stomach showing as his shirt crawled up his fat belly as he put his hands together above his head, I thought I don't want to act(or look) like that.
I have been passionate about my politics. Years ago, it seemed we could argue, then still be friends. We loved discussing issues in classes, if we weren't too apathetic. Chevy Chase did a wonderful Gerald Ford, but we loved that grin the first time Jimmy Carter ran. He just seemed cooler than old Gerald Ford.
The 1968 election made the biggest impact on me, though. I wouldn't actually vote until 1979, but I kept up with the news. I loved the process and that we lived in a country where we had a choice.
So, it's too late to remind you to vote, if the twenty to thirty calls a day for the last week didn't remind you. I mean, honestly, didn't you want to just scream, "I'll vote, just don't call me!"?
The Facebook posts, pictures and down right nastiness at times couldn't let you forget either. The stories of how women fought for our right to vote just a few short years ago in 1920 moved me. How could you not vote?
But now that election is over, let's us pray together for whoever will stand with his hand on a Bible on January 20, 2013 and is the leader of this land. The president is a policy maker, a symbol for what the country stands. He can't deliver all that is promised. We need to pray for his wisdom. We need to read the Constitution to know the expectations for the president. And we need to be a country united in harmony. I promise to do my part. And that's not an election day promise.
Monday, November 5, 2012
Sundays Are
Failing at the posting every day for November. I didn't write as much on my novel, either. Sunday is my big nap day. As I slowly woke from the nap, the message on the answering machine from my oldest daughter informed me she was bringing children with her, soon.
That was great because the children also brought their mother, Lori, my husband's niece. Truth be told she drove them here. So just like in the old days on Sunday afternoons, we visited. It seemed so much later than the actual time, because of the time change. The gray turned to black around five thirty last evening.
The forecast shows sun peeking through, but at nine thirty this morning, I see little evidence of that. Only a high of forty three degrees, too. I will walk the poor dog who hasn't had a real walk since before Sandy nudged around. We did take him for a ride on Friday.
Back to the not writing reasons. I didn't want to leave the house to write at Panera or McDonald's, or even retire to my room. I felt a strong tug to be at home with my daughters. Watching shows with them, I didn't concentrate. I guess that is what Sundays are: enjoying family, rest and relaxing.
That was great because the children also brought their mother, Lori, my husband's niece. Truth be told she drove them here. So just like in the old days on Sunday afternoons, we visited. It seemed so much later than the actual time, because of the time change. The gray turned to black around five thirty last evening.
The forecast shows sun peeking through, but at nine thirty this morning, I see little evidence of that. Only a high of forty three degrees, too. I will walk the poor dog who hasn't had a real walk since before Sandy nudged around. We did take him for a ride on Friday.
Back to the not writing reasons. I didn't want to leave the house to write at Panera or McDonald's, or even retire to my room. I felt a strong tug to be at home with my daughters. Watching shows with them, I didn't concentrate. I guess that is what Sundays are: enjoying family, rest and relaxing.
Saturday, November 3, 2012
Gratitude Month
Not only is it NaNoWriMo, it is also, NaBloPoMo: National Blog Posting Month. A charge to post every day on one's blog. Um, yeah, write away! Yes!
So my posts may be a little skimpy at times, if I'm writing my novel. Or like yesterday, I wrote more on my blog than on the novel. Just call me a writing fool. You've heard of fool for love, I'm a fool for writing. I'm ecstatic to have more time to write. I think this almost a dream come true.
So here's to November! Wonderful writing month. For that, I'm thankful.
So my posts may be a little skimpy at times, if I'm writing my novel. Or like yesterday, I wrote more on my blog than on the novel. Just call me a writing fool. You've heard of fool for love, I'm a fool for writing. I'm ecstatic to have more time to write. I think this almost a dream come true.
So here's to November! Wonderful writing month. For that, I'm thankful.
Friday, November 2, 2012
Spiritual Journey
I have felt I need to write one post on my spiritual journey as a capsule of understanding. I even had a dream a few weeks back that one of my old neighborhood girls told me to tell it. The dream was one of those that you wake in the morning, wondering, Wow, what was that about and you ponder it for a long time.
I was born into a Christian home, but that does not make one a Christian. We are all born sinners, with a sin nature. My family spoke the Christian language and we were regularly at church. My dad, especially had a close relationship with Jesus. But everyone knew the answers to tell a questioning, growing child.
I believe I was six years old when I realized I couldn't be good on my own strength as I let a lie grow that I wanted to believe so much to be true. I got in trouble which embarrassed my mother. I lay on a maroon couch and cried, praying for forgiveness from God.
As I mentioned the other day, my faith journey had ups and downs, periods of such sweet closeness and then of asserting my independence. I never gave up on church or God. I loved going to church, always. Sometimes, it was like I was dating God. Meet Him once a week, sing love songs to Him, then return to my life.
I went through this until I was pregnant with Katie. The first Sunday in December, the Gideons spoke on Bible Sunday about the power of the Bible. That message sank into my heart. God does not have grandchildren. We are all called to be His children. I couldn't get by with my father's wonderful relationship with Jesus. I had to be in the Word daily, like I had been at other times in my life. The other truth that hit me that day was John 14:6 I am the way, the truth and the life, no one comes to My Father, except through Me. Jesus declared. I could no longer believe that all beliefs get a person to Heaven. No one is good enough or from a good enough family to be welcomed into Heaven, only those covered by Jesus.
So I returned to my morning Bible reading and setting my prayers in a journal. I had years of practice, but I felt as motherhood approached, I needed to be firm in my faith.
After Katie's birth, life as a new mother, with visitors and help, my Bible started to gather dust. I did pray for Katie every night, though, as I put her to bed. And loved church.
In late September of that year, we found out my dad had leukemia. The day dawned so bright as I drove Mom, Dad and Katie to Canton, Ohio. We spent all day, with Dad going through tests at the retinal specialists. At the end of this day, as Dad sat in the exam chair, the doctors reviewed the results. There was a tumor behind Dad's eye, but not a primary tumor. They could tell it was a secondary tumor. Dad's complaint of diarrhea the last month flashed through my mind, as he looked eerily sallow and small in that chair and then the worst thought, he's not going to make it through the year.
The car trudged through a terrible rain storm. I felt like Heaven cried with me. I was numb. Dad was sick, with a fever and weakness. Mom, I'm not sure where her strength came. Was it ignorance of how sick Dad was? That was one of the coldest last weekend of September with rain every day.
Monday, we couldn't take any more and Dad went to the hospital. We had made an appointment to see an internist, but he saw him in a hospital room. I knew these doctors well, as I worked in ICU. A close relationship develops in specialty units with doctors and nurses.
Dr. Sartori called me. Dad's white blood cell count was over 300 thousand. He had leukemia. The family decided Cleveland Clinic for treatment. Doctor agreed with me, as that is where he sent his dad, too, for the same thing.
The next four to five months filled up with many trips to Cleveland and Dad coming home for the holidays. The chemo affected his liver, leaving him a jaundice color. I have a picture of him holding Katie in all her new baby pinkness against that mustard colored hanging skin of his. But we were full of hope. He was home. Death disappeared from my thoughts.
During this time, I felt a little guilty for neglecting my time with God, thinking this is why Dad got so sick with leukemia. I know this wasn't true. That is not how God works. He loves us all as seen in Psalm 116:15 The LORD's loved ones are precious to Him; it grieves Him when they die.
I'm not being a theologian here. I'm telling you how this has comforted me, and Dad's illness woke me up to keep in constant communion with Jesus as I have now these past twenty two years. I may not always act as I should or say the words I should, but I have learned grace and a love that will not let me go. I stand on the promises of my God set forth in His Word. It is His letter to His loved ones.
So with this background, continue to read my story of my family and my life.
I do ask God that I can have a testimony that impacts many people like my dad's did. Dad seemed like Jesus to me as I grew up and in my drive to be like my dad, I more want to be like Jesus.
I was born into a Christian home, but that does not make one a Christian. We are all born sinners, with a sin nature. My family spoke the Christian language and we were regularly at church. My dad, especially had a close relationship with Jesus. But everyone knew the answers to tell a questioning, growing child.
I believe I was six years old when I realized I couldn't be good on my own strength as I let a lie grow that I wanted to believe so much to be true. I got in trouble which embarrassed my mother. I lay on a maroon couch and cried, praying for forgiveness from God.
As I mentioned the other day, my faith journey had ups and downs, periods of such sweet closeness and then of asserting my independence. I never gave up on church or God. I loved going to church, always. Sometimes, it was like I was dating God. Meet Him once a week, sing love songs to Him, then return to my life.
I went through this until I was pregnant with Katie. The first Sunday in December, the Gideons spoke on Bible Sunday about the power of the Bible. That message sank into my heart. God does not have grandchildren. We are all called to be His children. I couldn't get by with my father's wonderful relationship with Jesus. I had to be in the Word daily, like I had been at other times in my life. The other truth that hit me that day was John 14:6 I am the way, the truth and the life, no one comes to My Father, except through Me. Jesus declared. I could no longer believe that all beliefs get a person to Heaven. No one is good enough or from a good enough family to be welcomed into Heaven, only those covered by Jesus.
So I returned to my morning Bible reading and setting my prayers in a journal. I had years of practice, but I felt as motherhood approached, I needed to be firm in my faith.
After Katie's birth, life as a new mother, with visitors and help, my Bible started to gather dust. I did pray for Katie every night, though, as I put her to bed. And loved church.
In late September of that year, we found out my dad had leukemia. The day dawned so bright as I drove Mom, Dad and Katie to Canton, Ohio. We spent all day, with Dad going through tests at the retinal specialists. At the end of this day, as Dad sat in the exam chair, the doctors reviewed the results. There was a tumor behind Dad's eye, but not a primary tumor. They could tell it was a secondary tumor. Dad's complaint of diarrhea the last month flashed through my mind, as he looked eerily sallow and small in that chair and then the worst thought, he's not going to make it through the year.
The car trudged through a terrible rain storm. I felt like Heaven cried with me. I was numb. Dad was sick, with a fever and weakness. Mom, I'm not sure where her strength came. Was it ignorance of how sick Dad was? That was one of the coldest last weekend of September with rain every day.
Monday, we couldn't take any more and Dad went to the hospital. We had made an appointment to see an internist, but he saw him in a hospital room. I knew these doctors well, as I worked in ICU. A close relationship develops in specialty units with doctors and nurses.
Dr. Sartori called me. Dad's white blood cell count was over 300 thousand. He had leukemia. The family decided Cleveland Clinic for treatment. Doctor agreed with me, as that is where he sent his dad, too, for the same thing.
The next four to five months filled up with many trips to Cleveland and Dad coming home for the holidays. The chemo affected his liver, leaving him a jaundice color. I have a picture of him holding Katie in all her new baby pinkness against that mustard colored hanging skin of his. But we were full of hope. He was home. Death disappeared from my thoughts.
During this time, I felt a little guilty for neglecting my time with God, thinking this is why Dad got so sick with leukemia. I know this wasn't true. That is not how God works. He loves us all as seen in Psalm 116:15 The LORD's loved ones are precious to Him; it grieves Him when they die.
I'm not being a theologian here. I'm telling you how this has comforted me, and Dad's illness woke me up to keep in constant communion with Jesus as I have now these past twenty two years. I may not always act as I should or say the words I should, but I have learned grace and a love that will not let me go. I stand on the promises of my God set forth in His Word. It is His letter to His loved ones.
So with this background, continue to read my story of my family and my life.
I do ask God that I can have a testimony that impacts many people like my dad's did. Dad seemed like Jesus to me as I grew up and in my drive to be like my dad, I more want to be like Jesus.
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