Finally a new post

Mostly, my days have been rolling along. My nephew was here last week. Above is a picture of Everett and my dog, Maxine on his last day here. We had a great time.

We went to the fair, we went to Austin, he went to San Antonio. He was duly impressed with Texas.

We had to fix up a box for all the stuff he bought while he was here. He bought all kinds of souvenirs. That's the fun, though, of being a kid on vacation.

My Wednesday night Bible study group has started up again. I am absolutely ecstatic about that. We haven't been meeting--for almost a year--and that small study group really is church for me. You get really close to each other when it's a small group.

I guess Mega-Churches are fine for a lot of people. I like a small church--actually, I prefer a small group within a large congregation.

I saw a great video clip the other day of this dog named Skidboot. He lives in Quinlan, TX with David & Barbar Hartwig. Take a look at the videos they have posted. Skidboot is incredible.

I guess that's it for today.

My Story - Installment 1

I think everyone struggles with purpose--hence the popularity of The Purpose Driven Life. Some years ago I came to the same epiphany; we are here to be. Out of that being comes everything. If we are not Being then all we do is wrought from pain and anguish and compulsion.

I really saw that when I was laid off. Tom had me read John 10 everyday for a month. That is the chapter Jesus talks about being the Good Shepherd. I knew roughly what a shepherd does but I decided to do a little research. I came to the conclusion that shepherds pretty much do everything for the sheep but chew their food. Which for me, translates to my job is to be, to show up. It's Jesus's job to make everything right.

I know some people think Jesus is talking spiritually. I think he's talking spiritually, physically, and emotionally. His and God's job is to take care of me as much as I let them. Mostly, I don't trust them to do what they say they're going to do.

Now, about story. My story is pretty much blank to me. I remember pieces parts and that's about it. I have recently written a poem picturing how I experience my life. I will include here.

Torrential anger floods my heart
Pain has taken up residence
I wander through my life
Like walking in a blacked-out
Cave with a flashlight
A few moments of illumination
Then all is forgotten
But the pain . . .and the anger
Love has no firm foothold
I want what I want
And I won't let go
I strangle my future with
Darkness from my past

So, bear with me, and I will write as I see my story in my head.

I was born July 17, 1966; just less than a year after Mama and Daddy married. Really, I think, that's not the start of my story. My story began with Mama and Daddy. And really, I think I know their story better than my own--which doesn't surprise me.

Mama's daddy died when she was 5. Mama was the middle sister of 3 girls. Grandma had married young (16) so was not allowed to finish highschool. When her husband died, she went to a business/typing school to learn to make a living.

They lived in Pensacola, FL where Grandma was raised. Mama and her sisters were kept by their cousin Ralph and any other available relative while Grandma went to school and worked. Grandma eventually remarried.

Both of Grandma's husband were of the military. Her second husband was very straightlaced--or so he seems to me in his pictures.

So, Mama had a lot of leaving in her life. She didn't really know her real dad and her mother was gone a lot and I'm sure was very strong, indeed. When Grandma remarried, they moved all over the country as any air force family would. I have her highschool annuals--they are from 3 different schools.

Daddy's parents had 7 children and then his dad died. He worked for the electric company and fell into the lines and was electrocuted. Daddy was very young when this happened. My aunt Debbie, the youngest, doesn't really remember their dad--she was still in diapers.

Their mother, having 7 children remarried. I'm not exactly sure when. I know she worked at the Vallen Paint Company in Garland (I don't know if it's still there or not.)

The man she remarried, Joe, was a drunk and he beat her in front of the kids. He didn't work. He went to the Terrell State Hospital a couple of times. They had a son so there were 8 kids in all. They lived down in the name streets in Garland in one of those little bitty 2 bedroom houses.

One morning, the kids got up and found their mother on the floor. She had died from ovarian cancer. The chief of police in Garland drove Joe out of town and told him never to darken the city limits of Garland again. An interesting side note to this is, Daddy's real daddy was building a house along side of his two brothers who both turned out to be alcoholics.

When their mother died, their family didn't have anything to do with them. My aunt Jeannie was near 18 at the time and she pretty much took care of them all for awhile. Their mother's mother was a mean drunk and did not help. A man from the church (Saturn Rd I think) named Mr. Odom found out about the family and arranged care for the kids.

So, Daddy had nothing but leaving--dad dying, mother dying, family abandoning, siblings seperated, abusive and alcoholic step-dad, grandmother and uncles.

So, we have set the stage for Summer's twinkle in her Daddy's eye. And, I had better leave it there until later this evening.