Saturday Silly

One day a church secretary answers the phone. She is asked,  “Is this the local church?”

“It is,” she answers.

“This is the IRS. Can you help us?”

“I believe I can.”

“Do you know a John Smith?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Is he a member of your congregation?”

“He is.”

“Did he donate $10,000 to the church?”

Just then the pastor walks by and the secretary asks him the same question.

“Tell them he will!” he said.

church with bell

Pastor and secretary

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Friday’s Fiction

Pam, Book 3 of the Women of Valley View, by Sharon Srock, is a realistic story of hurt, betrayal and ultimate forgiveness.

Pam Lake, after four long years, has finally put the anger and bitterness of her husband’s betrayal and abuse behind her.  Pam has remarried, her children have adjusted to their stepfather and life has begun to resemble normal when a call from Pam’s ex-husband, Alan Archer, throws everyone into a tailspin.

Alan has remarried, too, and has decided to move back to Garfield, Oklahoma, with his new family. He has not only moved back, but has started going to the same church as Pam and the children. Life as Pam and her children know it will never be the same.

Pam begins to relive the bitterness, depression and rage left over from Alan’s abuse. The emotions spill over into the lives of her new husband and children, leaving wreckage in its wake.

The portrayal of angst, fury and confusion in the disrupted lives resonates with realism.  Pam deals with true to life people and gives a beautiful representation of the Christian life without lecturing or sermonizing.

I received this book from http://www.bookfun.org/ in exchange for an honest review.

I have a back procedure scheduled for today, I pre-scheduled my Saturday Silly but I may not be blogging for several days.

Wednesday’s Words

Today is National Strawberry Parfait Day.

This reminds me of the following verse:

Psalm 34:8 (King James Version) O taste and see that the Lord is good: blessed is the man that trusteth in him.

Strawberry parfait

 

 

Tuesday-Trip

We recently took a trip to celebrate the son and g’daughter’s birthdays.

We went to Locust Grove, GA, to a place called Noah’s Ark. (Links provided below.)

There are two sections to Noah’s Ark. Children of the Ark is for foster children. Noah’s Ark Sanctuary is for the rescued animals.

The place is awesome. Click on the links and take a look around-I think you will be as impressed as I was.

https://www.facebook.com/childrenoftheark?ref_type=bookmark

http://www.noahs-ark.org/Children-of-Noahs-Ark

http://www.noahs-ark.org/

https://www.facebook.com/NoahsArkAnimalSanctuary

BLT

BLT

      

Friday’s Fiction

A Journey I Enjoyed

The very first sentence in The Miracle of Mercy Land by River Jordan takes you by the hand and pulls you into a fantastical journey full of darkness, sunshine and life.

I was surprised to find Mercy Land is the lead character’s name and not a place, however, that only adds to the power of her story.

This book will affect each person that reads it differently for the same reasons the character’s lives are affected differently; we all have our own weaknesses, demons, desires and individual stories.

This book is full of mysticism and fantasy, not my usual reading fare. Nevertheless, the last few books I’ve reviewed have been of this genre and in spite of this, I’ve enjoyed all the books. Perhaps the Lord is telling me to enjoy more whimsy in my life?

Mercy is a young woman who left her home in Bittersweet Creek, Alabama, for Bay City, Alabama, in order to live her life as she wanted and not as conventional wisdom dictated.

Along the way, she becomes the indispensable right hand woman for Doc Philips, the editor and publisher of the local paper.

Early one early morning, Mercy receives a strange call at her boarding house from Doc Philips. Thus begins a journey into a world of suspended belief and fantasy.

Doc possesses the biggest news story of Mercy’s life but she can’t print a word of what she knows, and comes to know, as a result of Doc’s mysterious call.

The Miracle of Mercy Land will leave you asking yourself many questions about your own life and choices you have made.

I received a free copy of this book from Blogging for Books in exchange for a review.

I am not required to write a positive review. 

 Originally published April 5, 2011. Edited and republished

Saturday Silly

A pastor opened his mail one morning. He took a single sheet of paper from an envelope, and found written on it only one word: “Fool.”

The next Sunday, during church, he announced to the assembled congregation, “I have known many people who write letters to me and forget to sign their names.  But this week I received a letter from someone who signed their name but forgot to write a letter.”

Fool

Fiction Free Friday

I spent the day in a torture chamber yesterday! Not a real one, but boy, it felt like one.

I live with constant chronic pain. I need LOTS of things to be done. One very major thing I need is knee replacement.

I have put this off for years but recently found out my PCL (opposite of ACL is all I know about it) is shot. I’m cutting into muscle and ligaments with bone spurs, and basically no longer have a kneecap.

I finally broke down and told my ortho I would have the surgery. It has gotten to the point where I can barely walk and stairs are, for all intents and purposes, impossible to navigate.

My ortho was concerned that my underlying problems were coming from back and foot problems, so he set up appointments with a podiatrist and a neurosurgeon. Yesterday-six months after my referral- I was finally able to see the podiatrist.

So, off to see the podiatrist I went, little realizing what pain he could and definitely would, inflict. Oh, my goodness!! I think I hit the ceiling roughly two million forty one thousand nine hundred ninety nine times (I lost count after that).  He hit one point on my foot, and the pain shot up my leg, into my head and down my arm and fingers, leaving a numbing tingling feeling. The aforementioned felt as if I had hit my “funny bone”-only much, much worse when travelling up to my head and down to my fingers. Then, when it hit my head, fireworks!

I am so covered with hot spots and trigger points of pain; the only place that did not hurt was from just above my wrist to just below my elbow. (An area roughly the size of a slender computer mouse.)

After all the pain he inflicted, he told me he could not help me get my feet straightened out. They are genetically high, high arched (nothing can be done for that) and have too many breaks that have healed improperly. However, he did say some of my pain could be alleviated by epidural shots.

He also told me not to accept the diagnosis of Fibromyalgia, as it is a “death sentence.”  Not that Fibro will kill me but, it’s a type of catchall diagnosis for those of us in chronic unremitting pain. Fibro is incurable, so once the diagnosis is made, the physician’s work is finished. He feels I need to advocate more for myself and track down the pain’s underlying causes.

I will say this about him; he knows his anatomy. Phenomenal.

Today, I am in a pain fog and trying to occupy my brain with pursuits that are more enjoyable.

P.S. It is NOT working!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Xrays
Foot Doc

head hit

 

 

Waxing Wordy Wednesday

Today we have our annual home inspection. (Several years ago we “fell” into the world of renters-with me metaphorically kicking and screaming all the way, hence the inspection.)

We have been so busy going through the things at my parents since my Dad passed away that our home has been severely neglected. In addition, more and more things keep finding there way to our house. They just jump into the car and wait for us to bring them home-I promise!

My parents were classic hoarders and if truth be told, I have some of those tendencies, too. My propensity is not to the extent of my Mom’s, but does present its own challenges.

Part of the problem in going through their things is multi-fold. To begin with, I had been taught (and taught well) to not TOUCH, or even think about touching, their personal belongings-so to go through everything felt like a violation of all my training. Moreover, there was sooooooooooo much stuff with trash intermingled with treasure. And, I mean, literal trash. For instance, there would be old used paper plates mixed with family pictures.

I think, toward the end of Mom’s life, she just gave up and started throwing things into any convenient container.

Because we were also trying to find my Dad’s insurance paperwork and preserve things for my siblings, too, the task has been quite daunting.

*Side Note* We found Dad’s insurance after months of looking. It was a retirement benefit, from his employer, but the company went bankrupt several months before he died and “forgot” to inform the policyholders they needed to pick up their own premiums to keep it in force.

Anyway, all this has led me to really think about these verses in Matthew 6:19-21 (KJV): 19 Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal:  20 But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal: 21 For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.

I want my treasures and heart to long after God and Godly  things and not man-made or given things, but every now and then my heart aches for earthly treasures, especially those my parents spent almost 60 years making.

I know, though, that the next generation has no desire for any of these things I consider treasures, and they obviously are not going with me so. . .

It is sometimes really, really hard for me to let go of some of their things. Plus, I know as soon as I finish, turn the key to lock the door and give the key to the mortgage company, my last real tie to my parents is gone.

So, we are frantically cleaning, dusting and trying to find a place where there is little to no room to find a place and generally running around like chickens with their heads cut off. (With deep apologies to sweet Skye, for that analogy!) And, of course, in the midst of all this, I decide to “wax wordy!” Cleaning lady

Tuesday’s Tale

“In the beginning comes the end.” So begins Sidetracked by Brandilyn Collins, a fast-paced, brisk mystery sure to keep you turning the pages until you have read the entire book.

Delanie Miller is on her way home from the bridal shower of her friend, Clara Ann Crenshaw, when she sees a shadow near the neighbors’ bushes, a large shadow.  As Delanie slows, the person runs off and Delanie stares at the road ahead only to see something-someone- in the road.  She hesitantly gets out of her car and goes toward the person, but she already knows who it is before she gets to her-Clara.

“A silent scream wracked my head.  No, no, no!”

“But deep within I knew.  Death had followed me.”

Sidetracked careens between Delanie Miller’s events in the present and Laura Denton’s in the past, effectively explaining why Delanie was forced to reinvent her life.

Brandilyn Collins never uses the emergency brakein Sidetracked.  Asthe book travels back and forth between the “women,” you have the feeling of being on a runaway train.  Then the book levels out and you are able to catch your breath, before the next runaway.

I was familiar with Brandilyn Collins but had never read one of her books so I was excited to read Sidetracked.  I was not disappointed.

*Disclaimer* I feel, in the interest of those like myself that suffer from PTSD, that I should advise you about portions of the book. There are multiple sections of a graphic nature, describing two murders and the prosecution of one of them.

I was provided this book by http://www.bookfun.org/ in exchange for my honest review.

Train sidetracked2