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The Bible Tells Me

I’m not the Bible scholar I should be. I know some verses; not as many as I ought. Still, I find most of my experiences can be framed or underscored, explained or illuminated, by Scripture. Or maybe a hymn or a worship song, a devotional or a testimony. Frequently, I have those “Oh, yeah” moments when I see God clearly in an event. Or realized that I should have seen Him.

These are the moments of “The Bible tells me.”

These essays reflect that. Do know that I can proof-text as well as anyone. I have a concordance, and I know how to use it. Well, truthfully, I do all of that online now, where I can quickly find a passage, see it in many versions, and choose the one I like best. I try not to be narrow, but instead broad, as I apply Bible words to my experiences. I know that your interpretations and understanding may be different than mine. But I also know that our God is big enough for all of us.

I have a friend who, in her prayer time, likes to tell jokes to God. “I know He knows the punch line,” she says. “But I tell them anyway. He likes it when I laugh.”

He likes it when I laugh. I’m going to hang on to that. It’s Biblical. The Bible tells me.

Our mouths were filled with laughter then,
and our tongues with shouts of joy.
Then they said among the nations,
“The Lord has done great things for them.”
The Lord had done great things for us;
we were joyful.

Psalm 126: 2,3 (HCSB)


A Few Degrees of Separation

Several weeks ago, I wrote about a “six degrees of separation” incident, involving a some folks that knew someone who knew someone I knew.

I’ve come across another experience where one thing I was interested in turns out to be closely related to something that seemed, at the beginning, not related at all.

I read somewhere, lately, about a mystery novel that A. A. Milne wrote. We think of him primarily as the writer of the Winnie the Pooh books. Well, I supposed that not everyone thinks of A. A. Milne, in any way at all. But, really, you should.

Wikipedia describes this mystery novel (The Red House Mystery) as a “‘locked room’ whodunnit by A. A. Milne, published in 1922. It was Milne’s only mystery novel.”

That all sounded interesting to me, so I checked the book list at my local library and found that, yes, oh yes, they had a copy of that book. The book itself didn’t seem quite that old; I checked the copyright page which included the 1922 information as well as the 1950 renewal copyright. So, it’s an older book, but not a first edition.

I took it with me last Monday and Tuesday, to appointments at the retina center and at the ophthalmologist’s office. There’s much less waiting time at doctor’s offices these days, as they’re limiting how many folks can be sitting around in their waiting rooms, but there’s still time to read. The ophthalmologist’s nurse asked me what I was reading, and I explained that it was a mystery novel by the man who wrote the Winnie the Pooh books. A book for older readers. I said that, as a book written just a couple of years shy of a century ago, the style’s a little different, but it was interesting.

Then, just yesterday, I got a message that a Cloud Library book I’d requested was available. The title is Eight Perfect Murders. I started listening to it right away. The premise is that a mystery bookstore owner wrote a blog about the eight books that he regarded as each having a “perfect murder” described. He’s being interviewed by an FBI agent who is trying to solve a series of murders, and she sees some similarities between the books that the store owner has listed and the crimes that have been committed. He’s intrigued and begins to talk about each of the books he chose, beginning with (you saw this coming, right) The Red House Mystery, by A. A. Milne. “WHAT!?!?!’ A book I’d never heard of, ever, less than a week ago, is now part of an investigation that includes that book.

 

Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it.

Hebrews 13:2 (New Revised Standard Version)

 

Seems like a big leap, huh, from mysteries and books to hospitality. Maybe you’re a person who jumps easily into new situations. Maybe you’re a person who waits and analyzes and plans and thinks before starting anything different from the usual. Thinking about things is important. Thinking about things for such a long time that the opportunity passes and the opportunity is lost, is easy but not efficient. Looking for connections can strengthen connections (“I’ve read that book, too!” “I shopped at that toy store when I was a child,” “Did we live around the corner from each other?”). I need to do a better job of looking for ways to include, to invite, to encourage. Of course, it’s also harder to do from six feet away, but a smile, a wave, letting someone go first, a phone call, an actual note or letter, dropped in the mail, are ways to show kindness and hospitality.

And, from the back yard:

Cloud Library books are perfect for listening to, on my phone, while I’m working outside. So, by Friday afternoon, I could be finished with it. I’ll know whodiddoit, and how that Red House situation got resolved.

 

 

 

 

 

Some Fauna and a Lot of Flora

Here’s the log I ran over a couple of weeks ago. A friend of mine has a husband whose hobby is creating lovely wooden items. When she saw that blog post (and saw the log), she said that maybe her husband could make something. I said, “It’s hackberry,” and she said, “He likes working with hackberry!” Here it is, sitting on their porch. After it dries out and he has a look at it, I might be getting an attractive reminder of the incident.

 

 

 

 

The miracle plants. Last week, there was one tiny Caladium plant, doing its best to sprout and grow. That’s it at the top of the photo. Just below that plant, are three more Caladiums. You can clearly see that they are two different varieties. And, yes, those three shouldn’t be so close together, but let’s just think of them as being supportive of each other, in these trying times of a gardener who didn’t make particularly good choices about arranging things. AND, down at the bottom, next to the rock that I put in place so you might actually be able to see the thing, is another one, sprouting, too. I have hope. Who knows what might happen, now that the temperature’s warming. There might only be these five, but there might be fifteen. Or somewhere in between.

 

 

 

 

This is an amazing plant, and I don’t even know what it’s name is. Several years ago, I got a piece of it from David’s Aunt Frances. She said it was easy to care for and sturdy. I put it in this pot and it grew well all spring and summer and into the fall. With the first freeze, it was gone. It was in this large container and really heavy because of the weight of the container plus all the soil that was there. In the spring, we made another trip to visit David’s parents, stopping mid-way to spend the night again with Frances (in Memphis) and to take her with us on to Tennessee. I asked if I could please have another cutting of this nice plant, because it had frozen away in the winter. She looked perplexed. She said that, yes, it died back in the winter, but it always came back. I had emptied and cleaned out the pot, getting it ready, I’d hoped, for some nice, new, sturdy cuttings. She did, graciously, give me some more, but assured me that it would come back, after the cold winter. And, indeed, it did. And has, all these years later.

 

 

And, yeah, I need to decide what to put in those cone-shaped things. Something trailing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Early in April, this year’s crop of sunflowers

May 7–The first sunflower

Around the corner from us, on the path I always take to get from the neighborhood to the shopping areas, I see these plants. I don’t know if someone, years ago, purposely sowed these plants, or if folks were sitting around on the ground, enjoying munching on sunflower seeds, and some of them landed, unshelled, in the grass. However it happened, sunflowers grew. And, over time, they kept on reseeding and growing. Now, it’s one of the first signs of springtime, when the sunflowers begin to grow. Last summer, when Peter came to visit, he’d just been to a nature camp, and he was telling us what he’d learned about sunflowers. We took a walk around the corner, to see the wall of sunflowers. He explained all the parts of the sunflowers and how they grew and about their leaves and about their petals. As soon as they began to sprout this year, I took photos of them. Then, later, the growing plants.

 

Just today, May 7, as I rounded the corner, I saw the very first sunflower. Of course, I took a picture. As I was driving away, I saw a woman standing at the side door. I stopped and gestured for her to come. As she walked toward me, I called out for her to not come too close, but I explained how my grandson and I enjoyed seeing their flowers and how I was excited for the first one and I had taken a picture to show him. “Your first sunflower this year,” I said. And she shook her head and shrugged. Ah. Not an English speaker. Then, a younger woman came out and I said the same things to her, and I’m finally understanding that she didn’t have much English herself. But, I gestured, pointed, smiled and said, “first sunflower” several times. And then they pointed and smiled. And we all three enjoyed the moment.

 

 

 

 

Careful planning puts you ahead in the long run; hurry and scurry puts you further behind.

Proverbs 21:5 (The Message Translation)

The plans of the diligent lead surely to abundance, but everyone who is hasty comes only to want.

Proverbs 21:5 (New Revised Standard Version)

 

A well-thought-out plan will work to your advantage, but hasty actions will cost you dearly.

Proverbs 21:5 (The Voice Translation)

I would love to be able to say that all my gardening/yard work/landscape plans are well-thought-out. I often see an attractive plant and think I could grow that. I am often wrong. I’m getting better. Every year, I make fewer mistakes.

It Thinks It Can; It Thinks It Can

 

It’s unfortunate that the lovely caladium plants in this photograph are difficult to see because of the crape myrtle leaves on the tree next door. And, also unfortunate that, when the tree’s limbs are bare, it’s ‘way too early for those plants to be growing. So, you’ll just have to come and visit me in late spring or summertime to be able to completely enjoy how attractive they are.

Or, rather were. This photograph is from last summer’s planting.

Caladiums come in a wide variety of colors and sizes and shapes. For several years, I’ve purchased a variety of caladium plants in different colors and sizes, and planted them in this shady southeast corner of the house. They’ve thrived there, but are not really winter-hardy here. A nursery employee once told me that, if I mulched them really well, they could stand our relatively mild winter (it might freeze a time or two, but not a serious freeze). I’ve not found that to be accurate.

This spring, well, ‘way back early, early in the spring, I was at a nursery and found caladium bulbs. I could do that, I thought. I’ll plant the bulbs and grow lovely caladiums. I chose several varieties, bagged up three each, carefully labeled each bag, so I would know which ones I had, and took photos of the pictures on each box, to help me recall what each variety looked like, and happily paid for them.

A few weeks later, I thought Time to plant those caladium bulbs!! And I went out on a Monday morning and got to work. It had rained. Quite a bit. But I dug (and slipped and slid) into the mushy bed. It was a pretty messy bit of gardening, and I quickly lost track of which ones I was putting in which spaces. And, then, there was such a density to the dirt/mud, that I was pushing some of them down into the mire, and then I had to go and open up a big bag of top soil to cover them all up (and to try to soak up some of the water).

A few weeks later, I was at a nursery (thank goodness nurseries are considered to be Essential Businesses), and I saw they had caladium plants, inside their store (as opposed to outside, where the sturdier plants were). I told the nursery guys how I had planted my caladium bulbs a while back and nothing had come up yet. They looked soberly at each other.

“A mistake?” I said.

“They’re probably dead,” one of them said.

“So,” I said. “If I want to plant these (pointing to the wonderful variety of growing caladium plants), when would I put them in the ground?”

“May 1,” they said.

So, that, so far, is my plan.

In the meantime, I’m moving some concrete edgers (again, a little difficult to see, due to that leafy crape myrtle’s dappled shade). The tree’s shade slows down the growth of the grass, and I’m trying to move the edgers closer to where the grass actually is. That leafy area on the right-hand side is Strawberry Begonia, which is a great, winter-hardy plant that loves shade, grows well, and spreads all by itself with no extra work on my part.

Rainfall has been plentiful right now, and there was a big storm a couple of days ago, which made shoveling a new track for those edgers much easier.

As I was working, digging, filling in the old track with dirt I dug out for the new track, admiring the strawberry begonias on my right and the ever-faithful, reliable, delightful daisies on my left (out of frame), guess what I saw. Come on, guess.

 

 

 

This is a tiny, new, brave caladium. (If you double click on the photo just above, you can actually see this tiny caladium, just to the left of center.)

Now, I’m not expecting all of them (or, really any more of them), to come up. But, maybe, just maybe, a few more will rise up. At the very least, I’m going to wait a little beyond May 1 before I rush out to buy some of those fully grown plants.

It seems a little bit miraculous. (Hmmm. Is miraculous a “little bit” kind of thing? Truly miraculous? Sort of miraculous? Gigantically miraculous? Quietly miraculous? Personally miraculous?)

Given the information I was given a few weeks ago, at the very least, I can look at it and say, “Well, that’s a miracle!”

 

 

For just as rain and snow fall from heaven and do not return there without saturating the earth and making it germinate and sprout, and providing seed to sow and food to eat, so my word that comes from my mouth will not return to me empty, but it will accomplish what I please and will prosper in what I send it to do.”

Isaiah 55:10-11 (Christian Standard Bible Version)

 

Maybe what seems like a miraculous thing to us, is just business as usual for God.

I Was Just Going to Run a Quick Errand

Because I’m a Senior Adult with a myriad of underlying health issues, I’m trying to be cautious, and I’m reluctant to do much in the way of volunteering these days. But, last week, our pastor wrote about a need that I thought I could handle. Some local helping agencies and churches are working together to provide a family resource pantry in a nearby church, to help folks who are trying to make it after losing income in these past several weeks. We got an e-mail with a list of things that are most needed. And I thought I can do that. So I copied the list to my phone and went off to Target, first putting a few rolls of toilet paper in a bag to take along, too.  There was a list of needed groceries, and I found those things. There was a list of cleaning supplies, and, when I pulled my phone from my pocket to check, I saw that I had inadvertently erased the list. I called David and asked him to find the e-mail and tell me what cleaning supplies were on the list. Laundry detergent and dish soap and cleaning wipes. Got those, and went to check out.

I piled everything in the car to drive down to First Baptist Church, where people would be waiting to come to my car and take the donations. Here’s what happened next.

OF COURSE I kept it. It’s in David’s trunk. I put the toilet paper roll on it so you can get an idea of how big that log is.

While we’d been waiting, a few people came by to ask if we needed any help, and we explained what I’d done and that a tow was on the way. If anyone laughed about it, they did it discreetly. And it was rather humorous. And, when the tow truck driver got out of the truck and looked at the situation and got ready to attach the car to the truck, a young employee came out of the store and greeted the tow truck driver. “Hi, friend!” “Hey, good to see you!”

“So, you guys are friends?” I asked. “Oh, yeah,” said the young man. “He towed my car yesterday. See it’s right over there in the grass.” Small world

While I was sitting in the car, waiting for David to arrive, I had called Jeremy and Sarah, to talk a while and to explain that I was waiting because I’d hit something with the car. We had a nice chat. Later, I called again to finish up with the rest of the story.

“It was a log, about five inches across and several inches long,” I said.

“It must have been heavy,” Jeremy said.

“It was!” I said.

“Did you keep it?” he asked

 

 

 

So let’s not allow ourselves to get fatigued doing good. At the right time we will harvest a good crop if we don’t give up, or quit. Right now, therefore, every time we get the chance, let us work for the benefit of all, starting with the people closest to us in the community of faith.

Galatians 6:9-10 (The Message Translation)

 

No one came to me and said, “What happened here? Could you not have swerved to miss that thing? Weren’t you paying attention to the road?” Or anything like that. It is possible, of course, that any number of folks might have been thinking it. Instead, everyone that stopped to check on us were kind and concerned. But nobody said an unkind thing.

 

 

 

 

 

Traditions Tried and Traditions New

I think the old adage goes like this: When you’re really busy, time flies.

And the antithesis is: When there’s not much going on, there’s not much going on. Today lasts forever and tomorrow is hours and hours and hours away.

And then some.

I was thinking about Easter and how it seems to have been several weeks ago. But no, not even a whole week ago.

I haven’t been completely dormant this week. I’ve done important (but not too interesting) things, such as going to the grocery store, purchasing a limited amount of things, like salad stuff and hot dogs (and buns) and, um, other random stuff. I called in a prescription refill and picked that up at Target.

I’ve done some knitting. And had to start one thing over. Three times.

I’ve done a bit of work outside, but the weather’s been pretty chilly. Unseasonably chilly, as though WEATHER had not looked at the calendar and noticed that it’s April here. I keep thinking that I need to launder and put away the wintry clothing and pull out the springtime stuff. Not yet. (Of course, in just a few weeks, summer will be ready to creep in, and I’ll be complaining about the heat.)

And speaking of Easter, it rained. In the wee hours Sunday morning, a gigantic crash rattled the windows, an epic flash of light illuminated the bedroom, and drenching rain came down. And down. And down. And down.

The first thing I thought about was that I hoped that parents, trying to get ahead of the chaos of Easter morning, had not decided to hide eggs outdoors for their kids to find at the first light of day, which is when children who are expecting treats are going to want to rise and shine.

I was reminded of an Easter when I was a college student. A friend came home for the Easter weekend, and on Saturday, I went to her house and we decorated a lot of hard-boiled eggs and decorated them. She was inviting some high school friends over for a party, and then there would be a grand finale of finding Easter eggs in her spacious back yard. In the dark, with only the limited light from the garage and back patio lights.

Her friends were up to the challenge and eagerly went out to find those eggs. They got flashlights. They looked and peered and hunted.  Nothing. They could not find a single egg. My friend, and I, were shrugging our shoulders and trying to guide them to the places where we were certain there should be eggs. No luck. We were confounded.

She was able to figure it out the next day, when she noticed some movement in the back yard. The neighbors had a couple of large dogs, and they had pushed their way through a gap in the fencing. They were making beelines to the places where, during the early evening before, they had found some scrumptious, crackly, chewy, yummy treats.

She notified the neighbors that their dogs were out. And that their fence needed mending.

Some Easters have been bright and warm, others have been cloudy and damp. Since Easter isn’t a set date in the springtime, anywhere from March 22 to April 25, knowing what the weather might be, is, well, variable.

On our most recent Sunday morning, we had video church, now running for five Sundays. For most weeks, our pastor has preached from the living room (and our minister of music has led us in singing from his living room). Last Sunday, the preaching came from the beautiful back yard. That giant thunderstorm was short-lived, and the sun was shining. Alleluia!

Jeremy and Sarah’s church, in Brooklyn, has been putting Scripture reading and choral music with each week’s sermon and posting it online on Sunday mornings.

Kevin and April’s church has been having their worship services online for the past several weeks. They wanted to do something different on Easter, wanting the people to gather together, but staying safe. They invited everyone to drive to church, park in their larger parking lot, and worship together in their cars. They got an FM transmitter so that people could listen through their car’s radio. The pastor also invited people, when they would have said “Amen,” to honk their horns.

 

Wherever you’ve been, I hope your Easter was just what you needed it to be, to hear just what you needed to hear, and to rejoice in the way you needed to rejoice. Alleluia!

 

And I will be with you, day after day, to the end of the age.

Matthew 28:20b (The Voice Translation)

 

Amen.

The Bright Spots

Back in March, when I went to Fort Worth to get Peter for some Spring Break holiday time, I went to a couple of nurseries there. I got sucked into springtime mentality and did quite a bit of shopping. I wandered around, with carts (which just leads to more merchandise, because I don’t have to try to carry several pots), and picked up familiar annuals that I needed to replace, after the winter, and some things I’d never purchased before, thinking I could put this in that spot and put that in this spot . . . One nursery had bougainvilleas, and I love bougainvilleas. They even had the orangey-red kind that I like because they’re the color of the brick on our house. I filled up the trunk with plants.

After Peter went back home, I spent time outside (even though the weather was still a little chilly), cleaning up the winter’s leavings. I repainted the plant stakes in the thyme garden, and relabeled everything. I was careful to only do two stakes at a time, otherwise, I’d have had a handful of labeled stakes and some uncertainty about which stake went next to which thyme plant.

Then, that last Saturday before we were cautioned to (and required to) stay at home, I went to three nurseries here, and bought a bunch more plants.

I like Caladiums. They’ve grown well in this space. I usually purchase Caladium plants, but this year, at one of those local nurseries, I saw Caladium bulbs. I could do this, I thought. And I bought several, three of each kind, putting them in the brown paper bags provided. I labeled each bag. I dug up a generous space in this bed, put those bulbs in, and covered them up.

 

It’s been almost three weeks. I don’t know how long it takes for them to come up.

 

We’ll see.

 

I was worried all last year about this tree. It didn’t seem as full, and its leaves seemed smaller and paler. In the fall, it’s always the first tree to change and the first to loose its leaves. The fall leaves are golden and so striking against the other trees which are still green. Last fall, they were paler. I was afraid it was in ill health.

 

This year, it’s full and green and the leaves are large. Maybe it was just taking a year off.

 

 

 

 

 

 

For you will leave your exile with joy and be led home wrapped in peace. The mountains and hills in front of you will burst into singing and the trees of the field will applaud!

Isaiah 55:12 (The Passion Translation)

I like that in a tree.

Spring!

And . . . I Got in Trouble at the Grocery Store

Plenty of eggs at this visit, compared to last time, when there wasn’t an egg to be had.

We needed milk. Also, I’d found a recipe for dinner that I thought I could easily make. I included those ingredients, along with milk, on a short list of things, picked up my recycle bags, and headed off to HEB. I did go at 8:30 a.m., thinking that the shelves wouldn’t be quite as depleted as they’d been when I went in the late afternoon a few days earlier.

The raw eggs are gone, but here, just to the left of the sign, are packages of hard-cooked eggs. Yay! And, quite obviously, is the sign that says, “Limit 2.

Things have really settled down, compared to a few days ago, and there was plenty of parking, close and near the door. The store was busy but not crowded, and I quickly made my way to the aisles where I needed to shop. I put carrots and sugar snap peas in my cart. The canned things I needed were there. The ground beef was there. The milk was there.

When I’d gotten eggs (yes! there were eggs) a couple of days earlier, I’d looked for the packages of hard-cooked eggs that are usually in the egg area. Nope. But, since I was now at the store ‘way earlier than before, I went to look. And, yes. TA-DAH! There were packages of them. I got a couple, and, while I was there, I went ahead and got another carton of the eggs I like to buy.

I stopped in an empty aisle to check how many items I’d gotten. I like to use the self check-out (there’s usually less waiting time), and, there’s a limit of 10 items. Exactly what I had in my cart.

There was absolutely no waiting time; most folks had fully-loaded carts and were in lines at the regular check-outs. I pushed my cart over to a self-checkout slot, put my recycle bag on the shelf, and started scanning my groceries.

After a few items, things stalled, and an HEB employee came over to see what the problem was. (There’s always an employee there to straighten out various self-check snafus.) She looked at my groceries and pointed out that I’d tried to purchase too many eggs.

I’d missed the sign. And, really, even if I’d seen the sign,  I’d have assumed that raw eggs and bagged cooked eggs were different products. FYI-they are not two different products. She let me choose which egg product had to be removed. And I apologized and apologized and apologized some more as I gave her the carton of eggs. I’m not generally a rule-breaker, and I really didn’t know, and I was really sorry. She was not at all angry; I suppose she’d had to confront, gently, other shoppers about too many total items, or too little cash, or too many eggs.

 

 

Keep your temper under control; it is foolish to harbor a grudge.

Ecclesiastes 7:9 (Good News Translation)

 

And there you go.

The Three Stooges Version of a Trip to Target

Quite some time ago, I mentioned how I made a reference to the Three Stooges to my young Children’s Minister, who was, well, unfamiliar with those guys. If  unfamiliar with the Stooges, you can get information about them here.

Meanwhile, I went to Target yesterday.

I needed to pick up a couple of prescriptions. That’s all. Why is that never all?

Many of my prescriptions come from a medication provider (for us senior adults). I’d apparently had trouble navigating one of them, recently. What I thought I’d ordered and paid for, never arrived. Last Monday, I logged onto the web site to check on things and discovered that there was no record of my order. So, yes, I certainly could re-order, but, I was on my last three doses, and I was uncertain about receiving the medication in the mail on time, given the upheaval in our lives right now. So, I phoned my physician’s office, explained my problem to the nurse, and asked for a prescription to be sent to the pharmacy at my Target. Yes, indeed, she said. Great.

On Tuesday, I got an e-mail from that online provider saying they needed my payment for the prescription. I phoned the doctor’s office and checked with my physician’s nurse. “Did that prescription go to the CVS pharmacy at Target?” Well, hmmm. No, it had not. It went to the online provider. We discussed the problem of getting that in the mail as timely as I needed it. And she said that, if it didn’t arrive, they could probably (probably?) fill in the gap. I checked the website, and there was a space that said, “Approve? Yes? No?” I checked “No,” and called the nurse back.

“Please go ahead a resubmit that prescription request at Target. I cancelled the other one.” “Yes,” she said. And, TA-DAH, it’s done. HAH.

Wednesday evening, I had the last dose of insulin. Thursday morning, I went to Target.

I asked for the insulin. She went back to her computer. And, of course, more problems.

“This prescription has already been charged to the online provider,” she said.  And I said, with dismay, “I can’t wait. I took my last dose last night. It wasn’t supposed to be charged to them.”

She was confounded, and another pharmacist came over and said, “Would you like me to do this?” And that first pharmacist said, “Yes, please,” and went to help another customer whose prescription wasn’t as complicated.

So, pharmacist #2 looks things over as I’m explaining how the problem happened, and she said she would phone that online provider and try to get it untangled. I could wait at the pharmacy, or if I needed to shop for other stuff in the store, she would call me after she’d talked to them.

“Great!” I went off to find Cheerios for David, who said everywhere he’d been was out of Cheerios. He’d not, apparently, looked at Target. There were all sizes of regular Cheerios, in addition to a wide variety of different kinds, flavors, etc. of Cheerios.

In a short time, the pharmacist phoned me (in the cereal aisle) to say that they could do an override, but but that I would have to make the call. She had the number, but, alas, I couldn’t find a pen, and she said she’d write down the number for me, and I could walk back to the pharmacy and get it. Which I did.

So, now, I’ve got the number, which I call, and there’s an automated voice telling me things, and asking me to say “yes,” and “prescription,” and asking me what is my identification number, so, I, with my phone in my hand, have to dig into my purse for my wallet and dig for that card, and I recite and confirm that number. Meanwhile, I am walking around Target, trying to find a quieter place to give all this information so that I’m not irritating other shoppers.

Then, a human being came online, and, as I am walking around, I’m trying to explain to her about the prescription that I’d asked for, and how it went to the wrong place ,and I really need to get it filled now, and that’s why I’m requesting an override. And then I worry that she’s going to give me some other phone number to call, and I know that I do not have a pen, so, while she’s working things out, I hurry on over to the aisle where there are pens, and I, not really wanting, or needing, a package of a dozen pens, finally find a package with one pen, and rip it open, try it out, and keep it handy.

I also know that I don’t have any paper in my purse, (I am woefully unprepared) and I am going to have to write any phone numbers or other information on the sides of the Cheerios boxes in my cart.

Then, after a few more minutes of standing in the kid’s video section, where I am finally alone, she comes back on and says, of course, that override can be managed, and she’ll connect me to Brie, who can get things fixed for me, and I think she’s talking about the pharmacist, but, no, she’s talking about someone at that online provider, who, in 45 seconds, confirms that the override is a done deal.

So, I go back to the pharmacy, where we are having to start the new prescription all over again. And, it will take a few minutes. Do I need to do some more sopping? Sure. And I went looking for new scales. The old scales, which are a few years old, but not ‘way old, have stopped working. I thought they just needed new batteries, which I didn’t have, but picked up last Monday, when I went to the grocery store. I replaced the old, worn out batteries with the nice, shiny, new ones. Without success. I guess that scale is broken, worn out, non-functional. The new scale is still in the box, but, I’m prepared with new batteries. Maybe tomorrow.

I also needed a prescription cream, which I asked the pharmacist to fill. “Oh,” she said, after looking at her computer. “That prescription has expired. I can call the doctor and have it renewed, Okay?” “Yes, please.” It wouldn’t be ready until the next day, but that’s fine. Target is close to me. No problem.

So. What should have taken, maybe ten? fifteen? minutes. Took about an hour and a half. And, I still have to go back. And I have to admit, I’m just glad it’s all worked out.

Find out for yourself how good the Lord is. Happy are those who find safety with him.

Psalm 34:8 (Good News Translation)

 

As we’re sheltering in place, except for those trips to the grocery store and Target, I was really unhappy when I learned that the libraries have been closed. NOOOOOO. But, a friend explained how it’s working now. I can go on the library’s web site, request books to be put on hold (which I do regularly, even though I usually go pick them up when they’re ready), and then I can check to see when the book(s) are available. Then, I phone the library and say that I’m ready to come and pick them up. I drive to the library where those books are and pull up to a door at the back of the library. I park and phone the library to let them know I’m there. They confirm my name and my library card number. Then, they will bag up the book(s) and open that door, place the bag on a table just outside the door, and go back in. Then, I get out of my car, retrieve the bag, get back in my car and drive away. What a plan!

 

Ah, Yes. The New Normal

On a regular Sunday morning, David gets up early and leaves the house early. He’s the open-up guy at church. He gets there long before anyone else, turns on the lights, checks the climate controls (which are pretty much automatic), fills some coffee pots, and then waits in the foyer to let in early arrivers, like the musicians and singers. I don’t get to church really early, but, the older I get, the longer it takes to straighten up and put away things in my Preschool Sunday School room, and then put out supplies and equipment for that Sunday’s time. I might need to trade out puzzles, laminate something, use the large paper cutter in the Resource Room to cut and trim things, and fold up the previous weeks paintings, now dry, and put them in kid’s cubbies, to be sent home.

That’s a normal Sunday. I’m rather looking forward to a normal Sunday, and hope one comes along in my lifetime.

Last Sunday, we just didn’t quite know what to do. David got up and read the Sunday paper. I got up and checked e-mail and did an online crossword puzzle and waited until 9:00, when the pharmacy at Target opens up. I went over there and asked for a prescription to be renewed. Then, I wandered over to the toilet paper aisle, just to see what the situation was. There was a sign that said “One to a customer.” Many folks were hauling around large 12-roll packages in their carts. Even though I’d checked our supply and found it plentiful, I went ahead and got a 4-roll package, just because it seemed as though I should. Our local Target has a limited amount of fresh food, and things were looking rather sparse there, but, otherwise–pretty normal.

We’d gotten e-mails from church saying that the staff decided to not open the church on Sunday, wanting to be careful of the health of us all. But, we could worship together, at home, with Facebook Live. At 10:45, there would be a check-in time, and then, at 11:00, we’d have a brief worship time together. It worked. As a congregation, we watched and listened, together, a sermon, a prayer, a blessing. All from our preacher’s living room. And, as everyone signed on, we could see their names popping up, as we prepared to worship together. Not quite as good as being together, but almost.

We’ll be doing church that way again in a couple of days, and, possibly, probably, for a few more, or many more, Sundays.

Meanwhile, the HEB grocery store has shortened their store hours, to provide additional stocking time for all those shelves that are being emptied so quickly. The store now opens at 8:00 a.m. and closes at 8:00 p.m. I’d seen, in the newspaper, a photo of a long line of people, standing behind grocery carts, waiting for the store to open. They did seem to be quite patient; maybe they were just posing for the camera.

Wednesday, I drove to the post office to drop off several envelopes (feeling sorry for the mail carrier, and wanting to lighten his load a little bit). On my way back home, I drove by the HEB. It was about 8:30 a.m. I was quite flabbergasted. I had never, never, ever seen the like. The parking lot was entirely full. Every parking slot had a car in it. Astonishing.

I did make a foray into HEB on Thursday, late afternoon, hoping to find eggs. I was surprised to see lots and lots of fresh food; and I purchased some. There weren’t tons and tons of people; just the normal amount, and no one was pushing or shoving or fighting over anything. I did walk by the paper goods aisle, just to see, and it was empty. Few things seems completely gone (well, except for eggs; I guess I’m going to have to go earlier if I want them). There was ice cream and a variety of frozen foods, lots of meat, a good variety of crackers and cookies, milk, yogurt, and cream cheese. I’m pretty certain we’re not going to starve, unless you’re on an egg-only diet.

I did make a quick stop at Target, just in case not many Target customers were into eggs. No luck. But, I did purchase some blueberries.

 

I know what it is to be in need and what it is to have more than enough. I have learned this secret, so that anywhere, at any time, I am content, whether I am full or hungry, whether I have too much or too little. I have the strength to face all conditions by the power that Christ gives me.

Philippians 4:12-13 (Good News Translation)

 

I don’t think I’ve quite learned the secret of always being content. But, I’m trying to move towards that goal.

 

 

 

We Might Should Be Paying More Attention to the Kids

Peter came to visit a few days, during his Spring Break. A friend at church suggested a play date on Tuesday afternoon, with her own grandson, who was also spring-break visiting. I suggested a neighborhood park close to our house. There’s a large oval track and a few playground structures with slides and climbing structures.

A few families were there and kids were running and climbing and playing. Our two boys joined in.

There are also benches, perfect for a couple of grandmothers to sit and chat.

She said that earlier, they’d been to a fast-food restaurant with a nice playground which had been busy, busy while they were there. As families came and went, the playground population ebbed and flowed, and with every change in families, children said good-bye to old-and-new friends and hello to others. And as kids re-grouped, they found ways to work and play together.

“I see that they’re doing that here,” she said. Within an hour, most of the children who’d been at the playground when we arrived had left, being replaced with all new groups. Some kids worked and played together on one of the larger play structures. Others raced from one play structure to another, spending just a few minutes at one space, and then leaping up and streaking off to another one.

And we agreed that they are a far better example of getting along and working together than lots of adults we know.

 

Yesterday, I took Peter back to Fort Worth. His plan was that we would go to Central Market, do a little shopping, and get some lunch (a peanut butter sandwich and a salad) and then he could spend time on their playground. The day was delightful, and that is what we did. At any given moment, there were a dozen or so kids, racing from one apparatus to another, taking turns, planning, working together, and getting along.

 

 

But speaking the truth in love, let us grow in every way into Him who is the head—Christ. From Him the whole body, fitted and knit together by every supporting ligament, promotes the growth of the body for building up itself in love by the proper working of each individual part.

Ephesians 4:15 (Holman Christian Standard Bible)

 

And speaking of growing . . .