I hate the time change, but guess what I found!

I woke up this morning at 4:15 AM.  That is because I usually wake up around 5:00 AM or so.  I laid there for a while and had a little talk with God.  Then I planned my day.  I tried to sleep and may have dozed off for a bit after cussing the government for the stupid time change anyway.  I am sorry, I just do not get it.  I know they are trying to save daylight hours, but come on people, are you really buying that?  My days are 16 hours long and I am going to be in the dark on both ends of it.  I have been closing up the geese at 7:00 PM when it starts to get dusk and letting them out about 7:00 AM.  Now it will be 6:00 PM and 6:00 AM.  It will be the same degree of darkness and they do not know the time has changed.  Only I know now that the time schedule has been altered thus screwing up my whole schedule.  Like I did not have my mind in enough different places.  Hell, it was yesterday that I finally put my shorts away because I thought August was now over and I know we don't wear shorts after Labor Day.  I completely missed Columbus Day,  The State Fair, Beulah Art Sale, the turning of the Aspens,  3 of the kids birthdays and God only knows what else!
And now I set here with my muddled little mind wondering where in the hell Summer went!  Seems like only last week I was bent over tending the tender little plants and digging out the lawnmower to chop the weeds into submission.  I tried to do my "year in review" and thought it was 1997!  Ever hear that old saying, "When you are over the hill, you pick up speed?"  That is sure going on around here.  Point is I have a hard enough time with out Uncle Sam messing with my bedside clock when my internal clock has already thrown most of it's springs!
So, now I bet you are wondering what I found this morning, aren't you?  I found my shadow!  I have spent a lot of the past week flat on my back on a heating pad feeling very sorry for myself.  Must interject here that the little talk with God this morning clarified the fact that he had me down so I could think about some things that were a tad bit awry in my mind.  So after I told him I was pretty sure he was right about that, I got up and as one is wont to do first thing every morning, I headed for the bathroom.  The first switch I hit every morning is the one for the office lights.  That leaves the bathroom dark.  I opened the door and there was my shadow, waiting for me!  Funny how we forget the little things in life, isn't it?
I had probably seen that little fellow a million times over the years, but I had forgotten about it!  The poem we used to say years and years ago sprang into my mind.  It goes something like this:

My Shadow

BY ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON

I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me,

And what can be the use of him is more than I can see.

He is very, very like me from the heels up to the head;

And I see him jump before me, when I jump into my bed.

The funniest thing about him is the way he likes to grow—

Not at all like proper children, which is always very slow;

For he sometimes shoots up taller like an india-rubber ball,

And he sometimes gets so little that there's none of him at all.

He hasn't got a notion of how children ought to play,

And can only make a fool of me in every sort of way.

He stays so close beside me, he's a coward you can see;

I'd think shame to stick to nursie as that shadow sticks to me!

One morning, very early, before the sun was up,

I rose and found the shining dew on every buttercup;

But my lazy little shadow, like an arrant sleepy-head,

Had stayed at home behind me and was fast asleep in bed.

Source: The Golden Book of Poetry (1947),

Well, it goes exactly like that because I went to the Internet and stole it!  The thoughts that spring to my mind with this poem are always of Nickerson, Kansas.  I remember walking the dusty roads around the old home place in my bare feet.  My shadow was always with me and as my shadow grew longer it was closer to time to "go in".  Funny, we never called it going home, but always going in.  Always liked Friday and Saturday night because we could stay up late and play "Kick the can!".   Does anyone remember that?  We always had a can from some where and that was home base.  It was basically hide and go seek and when whoever was "it" found one of the hidden kids, they drug them back to jail.  Then when the "it" person went off searching for more kids someone could run to home base and kick the can, thus freeing the prisoners.  Ah, the good old days.  And for the record, I am sure mother always made us wash our feet when we came in from playing all day barefooted.  I know to this day, my feet are the one part of my body that is always clean.  Always without fail.
So here I set at the computer and I can not see my shadow.  I see my hands are making a shadow, but I must be setting on that little guy, cause he is now where to be seen.  And if I am a female, why is my shadow a "he"?

I think I will have a Vanilla Phosphate!

Does this look familiar?  Maybe not to some of you younger people, but my generation recognizes this immediately as the soda fountain at the corner drug store.  I got this off the Internet, but trust me, they all looked alike.  Best part was you could set there on that stool as long as you liked.  Vanilla Phosphate, Cherry Coke, Plain Coke; it was your choice.  And if you had a friend you could ask for 2 straws and share. We knew how to make good use of a nickle back in those days.

Our drug store set right on the corner and next door was the Berrington's  IGA  Grocery store.  Flemings grocery was on the other corner.  So you walked in the front door of the drug store and right inside the door was the magazine section.  They do not do that anymore because some one will "grab and run", but back then all the thieves were locked up!  Nothing but good people in our town.

Towards the back of the store was the pharmacy.  It had a little window that if you could reach that high, you knocked on and the druggist would ask you what you wanted.  He stayed behind a locked door and mixed your prescriptions when you handed him the slip.  I never really seen the druggist, but I know he was there because Mother told me so.

Scattered throughout the store was things you might need like crutches. gauze, heating pads, hot water bottles, mineral oil, epsom salts and other stuff to which a 10 year old girl pays no attention.  And the lady who held sway, kept order in the store, mixed the drinks at the soda fountain, and generally scared the living pee wadding out of us was a lady named Neva.  Dear Neva had been born with one eye that looked upward and to the right.  We were never sure if she could see out of this eye, but we were sure that we would do nothing wrong in case she could.

It used to be the greatest thing in the world to have the nickle and know we could go to the drug store.  I was not alone in my thirst for knowledge held by the magazines on the rack inside the door.  Back then there were a couple "rags" named Modern Romance and True Story.  Now inside these pages was some hot stuff.  It I was really fast, I could locate one of them and open to a paragraph and read about "married love" before Neva spotted me and asked "Are you gonna buy that?"  To which I always put the book back and headed for the soda fountain.

Back in those days places were clean and friendly.  I might be the only one in there and I could set for hours and dream away while twirling my straw in an empty glass.  If a customer came in, though, I knew they were getting busy and it was time to leave.  I wonder if that drug store is still there?  I may just take a trip back down memory lane some day.  It has only been 60 years, so I think it should still be there.  Probably Neva does not work there any more and I bet the new druggist does not even know what a "mortar and pestle" is. Not sure I have that right my own self!

I think I will stop by the magazine rack and see if they still have those romance magazines.  Pretty sure the price has gone up, but I would like to just peek inside and see what kind of "married" love is going on nowdays.  Until then

Keep your powder dry!

You can run into about anybody over at Janet's house!

And, as promised, I wandered off to Janet Altman's  house.  Now I tried very hard to talk myself out of taking a day off with my busy schedule, but I lost that arguement.  Janet and I do not get together very often since we are both very busy women with full schedules and an opening has to be forged rather than taken for granted.    Since this time was her turn to cook, I knew I was in for a treat.  Janet cooks the actual German cuisine and it is to friggin' die for.  On the menu for today was Rouladen served over freshly made Spaetzle Dumplings.  This is one of those cases where a picture is worth a thousand words and one taste is a sky rocket trip to heaven.   But let me first explain the fork.  If you will notice it has 5 tines.  It is a German made fork, as is the nice.  The knife is not serated, but is sharp and balanced in your hand.  Germany knows how to make silver ware that not only is a joy to use, but lasts forever.  Of course it is nothing like the set I picked up at the garage sale last winter.  I am afraid that this is probably something I am going to want again.  But the story does not end here.

I had barely gotten in the door and Janet filled me in on the fundraiser she was attending tonight when the phone rang and the gentleman on the other  end of the phone told her he had some pictures to drop off for the fundraiser and could he drop by soonly?  Janet, being the ever gracious hostess invited him to lunch and he said OK, since it was lunch time, but that he would not be staying to o long and he had a friend with him.  Imagine my surprise when the drop in guest turned out to be none other then Ed Posa!  I have worshipped that man since I first saw his work. These are the two picutres he was dropping off for the fundraiser at the Senate and I can not remember who it was for.  Damn!  Why don't I ever listen?

For those of you who are new to the art world, Ed Posa is the local artist who does the Indian Paintings.  Here is a link so you can go read for yourself.  I am sure I could set here all night and not do the man justice.Click here to read about Ed.

So the quite little lunch with a friend blossomed into a lunch party with Ed Posa and his friend, Clem.  I do know Clem was a student of Ed's when he was a swimming coach.  Course I did not catch Clem's last name either.  Hope it was not Kadiddlehopper!  No, That was Red Skelton's alter ego.

I do have to say those two boys did justice to the meal.   The first thing that went wrong for me was the battery in my camera went on vacation.  So I borrowed Janets camera and used my card.  Lucky me.  I failed miserably at getting a picture of her dogs, but finally managed it!

When lunch was over the Ed and Clem left and Janet and I headed out for our walk.  

We just took a short one by Minnequa Lake, but the day was beautiful.  What more could I ask for?  I got to spend time with my dear friend and fellow activist, Janet Altmann and I got to meet Ed Posa, one of my heroes.  

Memories are just that.

I have been promising a friend that I would bring him some Choke Cherry Jelly for over a week and once more forgot to deliver the goods.  So I was setting on the deck visiting and the subject of canning and jelly making came up which immediately turned to the good old days when we damn near starved to death.  See, back in those times it was a daily challenge to keep our rib cage seperated from our spine.  It took food to make that happen.  Course when two old people get together their main goal is to prove that thier poverty was worse then the other persons.  I usually win!  And I must confess, I have been known to lie.
We made jelly and preserves out of any kind of fruit that happened to fall from the tree.  Ever eat peach pit jelly?  Peaches were canned and peach preserves were made and then the peach pits were boiled and ended up as jelly.  Did you know peach pits contain a trace of arsenic?  I think that is right.  I am sure it is some sort of poison.  Know what to do with watermelon rinds?  Those were turned into perserves.  Apple sauce was a staple.  Apple cider was a luxury.  Ever eat carp?  Those were nasty, but after they were canned there were ways to stretch even those.  Carp is very strong, coarse and gives a whole new meaning to the word "fishy".

Brother Jake was very adept at bringing home a rabbit on occasion.  Now, I trust you know that we were always happy when it as a bunny rabbit as opposed to a Jack rabbit.  Jack rabbits are the males and are very tough and stringy and have a wild taste.  A nice little bunny is tender and actually pretty good eating.  Or at least they were back when we were growing kids.  Have not eaten one in years and the memory of what season he hunted in has dimmed so  I will bypass that fare on my table.
October 5 was my brother Jake's birthday.  He would have been 77 years old.  The one good thing about losing him is that we will forever live in my memory as a man of 28 years.  That is how I remember him.  He always wore  khaki pants and a tee shirt.  I close my eyes and see  his lopsided grin and the big scar on his cheek.  He had a habit of sucking air through a gap in his teeth.  Sometimes it was irritating, but mostly it was just Jake.
I guess it is only natural  when I think back on the growing up years  that I think of him first.  We were 4 years and 4 days apart.  When he went to the Army we wrote every week.  He introduced me to my first husband.  They were friends and stayed so until the day he died.  He did tell me once that he would understand if I did not stay with my husband, but back in those days when the wedding vows were taken they ended with "till death us do part." and were sacred vows.  But sometimes there are things worse then breaking a vow.
Jake was in a car wreck on October 30, 1965  and passed away on October 31.  October 30 was my wedding anniversary to the kids dad and my middle daughter, Dona, was born on that day in 1964.  Needless to say, this time of year is a little sad around here so I work way harder then I should and try not to put pen to paper.  Seems that when I see it in black and white, it is overwhelming.
So that having been said, I will stick my head back in the sand and head off for church.  Teresa and I are off to the Broadmoor on church business, so that should take my mind off life for a while.

I will be back soon though, to fill pages with my drivel.  Chin up!!

Goodbye to a wonderful woman

September 28, 2014

Goodbye to dear Sammie Cody

Hard working hands to heaven borne.

And left us here to mourn.

A saint  among our saviour's best

Hard working hands have gone to rest.

I shall miss my friend.   I met Sammie a couple months ago, but she had a tremendous impact on my life.  Her faith was so simple, so kind and so all encompassing that I was immediately drawn into a family filled with love.  Through her our church has grown.  We prayed for her and she for us.  She has opened my eyes in a new way to know that I just need to turn it over to God, assume it is taken care of and prepare to reap the benefits.  

I will write more about Sammie later.

The Outhouse seems to be a thing of the past!

I fell to reminiscing today with a fellow and how we got on the subject of outhouses escapes me.  We did seem to be of the consensus that we did like the fact that they now seem to be a thing of the past that will not be repeated in today's world.  For those of you who do not know what an outhouse is, let me tell you.
Way back in the days before indoor plumbing the restroom "facilities" were located in a small building out back which was perched over a deep open hole in the ground.  Inside the building was a raised plank which had one hole cut in it and you can just imagine what went on in there. Some of these were constructed to be very sturdy and actually had hooks on the inside of the door to keep intruders out while you did your business.
Ours usually had a Sears & Roebuck catalog on the floor and that was what became known as "toilet paper."  Now, I am here to tell you that I much preferred the old catalogs that were printed on cheap paper as opposed to the newer ones with colored pictures.  Colored picture are slick, in case you wondered.  My brother could often be found gazing at the section where the women were modeling bra's and such.  That was his idea of pornography.  It was my idea of what I wanted to be when I grew up.  No, not a model, but a woman with those bumps on her chest.
I did not ever spend much time in that little "outhouse" as I lived in mortal terror of many things in that building.  The first was that I could be attacked by a giant spider and I had seen black widows out there so I could only guess where they were lurking when I was at my most vulnerable.  The second was that you can imagine how fragrant the whole mess was.  And thirdly, there was always the possibility that the floor could collapse and I could plunge into that mess and die a very untimely death.
This trip was always made its most horrific by the setting of the sun.  I would wait until right before the sun went down to make my last trip out.  I have heard that motto of the mailman about how neither rain, nor sleet, nor dark of night shall stay the faithful mailman from his rounds.  I adopted the same as my mantra for my last call of the night.  It was always a good thing to have a full moon.  Course then I had to worry about vampires and werewolves.  And snow.  No one ever seemed to shovel a path "out back."  At our house, nobody ever shoveled a path anywhere.  Just put on your old buckle up galoshes and hit the trail.
Why am I telling you all this?  Because it is the truth and the truth is often brutal.  Outhouses were a way of life back then and I remember my joy when we moved to Hutchinson when I was 16 and we had an honest to God bathroom with running water and a flushing toilet, and all of it was inside with a door that closed and a lock that kept people on the other side of the door.
And a stove that was powered by gas that came into the house through a pipe from the street.  Lights were turned on by a switch on the wall.  I was amazed to find that other people had these things for a long time and took them for granted.  Hutchinson even had parks where we could play instead of playing in the cemetery.
Don't know what brought all this to my memory tonight, but just wanted to share it with you.

My ideas to the congregation at First Congregational United Church of Christ

On Sunday September 14 our minister could not make it to our service so I volunteered to assist Steve Parke by giving the sermon part of the program.  Since I have friends and family who read this and could not attend, here it is in all by the paragraphs I read from a book.  Enjoy and I hope you take something with you when you leave.  

Lou

 I THINK I SHOULD FIRST TELL YOU A BIT ABOUT MYSELF, SO YOU CAN UNDERSTAND WHERE I AM COMING FROM.  I WAS BORN LOUELLA BETH BARTHOLOMEW OCTOBER 1, 1941, TO RUEBEN AND CHRISTINE BARTHOLOMEW IN NICKERSON, KANSAS, POPULATION 1000 SOULS GIVE OR TAKE A FEW.  WE WERE SHARE CROPPERS WITH A MAN IN TOWN.  I HAD AN OLDER SISTER AND A BROTHER.  SHORTLY AFTER MY BIRTH WE WERE THROWN INTO WORLD WAR 2, BUT I DON’T REALLY THINK THAT WAS MY FAULT!   OVER THE NEXT 6 YEARS I WAS BLESSED WITH 3 MORE SISTERS.  POVERTY WAS OUR LIFE, BUT BACK IN THOSE DAYS EVERYONE WAS POOR SO IT DID NOT MATTER.  BY THE TIME I ENTERED HIGH SCHOOL, I BEGAN TO SEE THAT WHILE POVERTY WAS THE NORM, THERE WERE PEOPLE ACTUALLY CLIMBING OUT OF POVERTY AND LIVING IN MUCH BETTER HOMES THAN WE HAD.  WE HAD NO RUNNING WATER OR ELECTRICITY AND WE WERE OFTEN THE BRUNT OF JOKES.  MY BROTHER ALTERED HIS BIRTH CERTIFICATE WHEN HE WAS 16 TO MAKE HIM 18 AND OFF HE WENT TO THE ARMY, THEREBY ESCAPING THE SHARE CROPPER LIFE.

I LIVED WITH MY GRANDMOTHER AND GREAT GRANDMOTHER FOR A YEAR AND THAT WAS WHEN I LEARNED TO CROCHET AND TO READ MY BIBLE.  I WAS NOT ALLOWED TO READ LIBRARY BOOKS, ONLY THE BIBLE.  MY REQUIRED BOOK REPORT WAS ON THE BIBLE.  I WENT TO A CONGREGATIONAL CHURCH IN THE LITTLE TOWN OF PLEVNA.  I DO NOT THINK IT WAS A UCC CHURCH, BUT IT MIGHT HAVE BEEN.

WE MOVED TO HUTCHINSON, KANSAS, MY SENIOR YEAR AND I IMMEDIATELY DROPPED OUT OF SCHOOL AND RAN AWAY.  I MARRIED A MAN I HAD KNOWN FOR 3 WEEKS, HAD 5 KIDS IN RAPID SUCCESSION, DIVORCED, REMARRIED REPLAYED THAT SCENARIO THREE TIMES, RAISED MY KIDS ALONE, MOVED TO COLORADO, MARRIED A COUPLE MORE TIMES AND THEN FINALLY MARRIED KENNY.  KENNY WAS A STABILIZING FORCE IN MY LIFE AND TAUGHT ME THAT I WAS A WORTHY PERSON, BOUGHT ME A HOME AND GAVE ME STABILITY THUS OPENING THE WAY FOR ME TO BE THE WOMAN I AM TODAY.    

WHEN I WAS YOUNG, CHURCH WAS MY REFUGE.  FOLLOWING MY FIRST DIVORCE, CHURCH WAS FORGOTTEN.  I DID SEND THE KIDS, BUT I DID NOT GO.  WHILE I DID NOT GO TO CHURCH, I NEVER TURNED MY BACK ON GOD.  HE WAS ALWAYS THERE AND SOME TIMES IN MY DARKEST HOURS HE WAS THE ONLY FRIEND I HAD.  I THANK HIM THAT HE WAS A BETTER FRIEND TO ME THAN I WAS TO HIM.  THERE ARE PARTS OF MY LIFE THAT I HAVE NEVER TALKED ABOUT AND NEVER WILL, BUT I STAND BEFORE YOU NOW, A WOMAN MADE OF THOSE PARTS.    I HAVE BEEN POOR SO I HELP THE POOR.  I HAVE SEEN DEATH , DYING, SICKNESS, AND MENTAL ILLNESS, SO I HOLD MY HAND OUT TO THOSE WHO NEED ME.  I HAVE BEEN JUDGED, SO I DO NOT JUDGE.  I TRY TO LISTEN AND HEAR GOD TELL ME WHERE TO GO NEXT, AND IT WORKS!  SEVERAL YEARS AGO HE LED THROUGH THE DOORS OF THIS CHURCH AND SEVERAL MONTHS BACK HE LED TERESA AND I TO BECOME YOUR MODERATOR.  DID YOU THINK ALL THAT HAPPENED BY ACCIDENT?  I THINK NOT.  I HOPE THAT IS NOT A DECISION YOU REGRET.  JUST STICK WITH ME HERE FOR A LITTLE BIT.

OUR SISTER CHURCH ACROSS TOWN IS TAKING A DIFFERENT APPROACH.  THEY WANT TO TIGHTEN THINGS DOWN, CHANGE THINGS, REWRITE THINGS AND I WISH THEM WELL ON THAT,  BUT I THINK I GOT THIS FIGURED OUT.

GOD ALSO LED ME TO VOLUNTEER AT HOSPICE.  I WORK THE ELEVENTH HOUR PROGRAM THERE.  FOR THOSE OF YOU NOT FAMILIAR WITH THE NEW HOSPICE RULES IT IS KNOWN AS SANGRE DE CRISTO HOSPICE AND PALLIATIVE CARE.  IT USED TO BE THAT IF YOU WENT INTO HOSPICE YOU WOULD BE DEAD IN 6 MONTHS.  NOT SO ANYMORE.  THE PALLIATIVE CARE IS FOR PEOPLE WHO WANT TO HANG ON TO LIFE, TAKE THEIR MEDICINE AND HOPEFULLY GET OUT OF THE HOSPICE PROGRAM.  THAT HAPPENS A LOT, BUT THERE ARE PEOLE WHO ARE DEFINITELY DYING AND WELCOME THE JOURNEY WHILE OTHERS ARE NOT QUITE SO EAGER.  AS THEY NEAR THE END WE REFER TO IT AS THE ELEVENTH HOUR, AND THAT IS MY SPEICALTY.  I SET WITH THEM AS THEY NEAR THE NEXT JOURNEY.  SOMETIMES THEY HAVE FAMILY, BUT NOT ALWAYS AND THOSE ARE THE ONES I PREFER.  THAT WAS THE CASE WITH A MAN NAMED BILL.  HIS FAMILY ARRIVED, BUT NOT UNTIL HE WAS GONE.  HE TALKED BY PHONE WITH HIS MOTHER BEFORE HE BEGAN HIS FINAL ASSENT.   HE HAD A VERY PEACEFUL CROSSING AND THAT IS WHAT WE STRIVE FOR.

 SO I MEET PEOPLE WHO ARE TRANSITIONING FROM THIS LIFE TO THE NEXT AND NOT ALWAYS IMMEDIATELY.  ONE OF THESE IS SAMMIE .  MY FIRST CONTACT WITH SAMMIE WAS 6 HOURS, DURING WHICH HER FAMILY ATTENDED A REUNION.  SINCE SHE IS NEARING, BUT NOT QUITE THERE YET, WHE IS LUCID AND WELCOMES COMPANY.  SHE DOES HAVE A LARGE FAMILY, BUT THEY ARE VERY BUSY WITH THEIR LIVES WHICH LEAVES HER CRAVING COMPANY.  SHE IS A WOMAN WHO IS DEVOTED TO GOD AND SHE BOASTS THAT SHE HAS A DIRECT LINE TO GOD.  SO I TOLD HER ABOUT MY CHURCH AND HOW WE WERE STRUGGLING TO KEEP OUR DOORS OPEN.  SHE SAID SHE WOULD PRAY FOR US AND SHE HAS BEEN DOING THAT!  SHE IS VERY SIMPLE IN HER BELIEF AND HAS WRITTEN A SMALL BOOK WHICH HER DAUGHTER PUBLISHED FOR HER.  SHE SAID SHE WOKE UP ONE NIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT AND WAS DRIVEN TO WRITE ALL THIS DOWN AS IT CAME INTO HER HEAD.  IT IS SO SIMPLE THE WAY SAMMIE PUTS IT.  I WANT TO READ YOU 2 PARAGRAPHS AND THEN LEAVE THIS BOOK IN MAYFLOWER HALL FOR YOU.

PAGE 3, 2 PARAGAPHS.

 I CAN FEEL A DIFFERENCE IN THE WHOLE ATTITUDE OF OUR CHURCH SINCE SHE RATTLED THE HOT LINE TO GOD.   I THINK MOST OF US ARE JUST KIND OF PUTTING ONE FOOT IN FRONT OF THE OTHER AND PLODDING DOWN THE ROAD.  I KNOW I WAS UNTIL SAMMIE WOKE ME UP.  APATHY ACCOMPLISHES NOTHING.

WHEN YOU GET UP IN THE MORNING, DO YOU WONDER WHAT KIND OF DAY YOU WILL HAVE?   OH, CRAP, TRAFFIC IS GOING TO BE A BEAR!  AND IT IS.  I KNOW THE GROCERY STORE IS GOING TO HAVE LINES A MILE LONG.  AND IT DOES.  BET THERE WON’T BE 20 PEOPLE IN CHURCH TODAY.  AND THERE ISN’T.

SAMMIE  SCOFFS AT ME.  SHE EXPLAINS IT THIS WAY.  GOD LOVES YOU.  GOD WANTS YOU TO BE HAPPY.  IF FILLLING THE CHURCH WILL MAKE YOU HAPPY, JUST TELL HIM AND HE WILL FILL THE CHURCH, BUT YOU HAVE TO BELIEVE THAT IT WILL HAPPEN.  GOD CAN NOT DO IT BY HIMSELF.  HE NEEDS ALL OF US TO MAKE IT HAPPEN.  GOD LIVES IN ALL OF US AND WE HAVE GOT TO LET GOD SHOW THROUGH OUR FACES.  STRANGERS READ US.  IF THEY SEE US WITH OUR FACES DRAWN AND WORRIED, THEY TURN AWAY.  SOME PEOPLE MIGHT CALL IT KARMA, THE POWER OF POSITIVE THINKING, DUMB LUCK, BUT I HAVE FOUND THAT IF I HOLD REAL STILL, THE ANSWER AND THE ACTION SEEM TO POP IN MY HEAD.  AND IF I DO NOT QUESTION, BUT JUST DO WHAT THAT LITTLE VOICE (FOR WANT OF A BETTER WORD) TELLS ME, I FIND MYSELF WHERE I BELONG, DOING WHAT I SHOULD BE DOING.

WHAT I WANT US TO DO IS PRACTICE WHAT SAMMIE PREACHES!  GOD IS LOVE AND HE WANTS US HAPPY.  HE WANTS THIS CHURCH TO FLOURISH.  HE WANTS KIDS IN THE PEWS AND MONEY IN THE COFFER.  HE DOESN’T JUST WANT US TO EXIST.  HE WANTS US TO THRIVE!  HE WANTS US OUT IN THE WORLD HELPING PEOPLE.  REMEMBER THE SONG “THIS LITTLE LIGHT OF MINE?”  I’M GONNA LET IT SHINE.   AND “AS YOU HAVE DONE THIS TO THE LEAST OF THESE, MY BROTHER, YOU HAVE DONE IT TO ME.”  “IF YOU HAVE THE FAITH THE SIZE OF A MUSTARD SEED, YOU CAN SAY “MOVE” TO THE MOUNTAIN AND IT WILL MOVE”

I SAW WHAT HAPPENED WITH JOEY.  I KNOW WE CAN MAKE MIRACLES HAPPEN.  I SEE IT EVERY DAY WHEN I SEE A HUNGRY CHILD FED.  I SEE IT WHEN THE TRUNK OF MY CAR, WHICH IS FILLED BY TOWNSPEOPLE, IS EMPTIED AT LOS POBRES.   OUR CHURCH IS A WORK OF ART AND WE ARE THE CARETAKERS OF THAT ART.  LET US TRY AN EXPERIMENT FOR JUST ONE WEEK.   WHEN YOU GO TO BED EACH NIGHT, TURN ALL OF YOUR CARES OVER TO GOD.  WHEN THEY ARE TURNED OVER TO HIM, THEY ARE NO LONGER YOUR CONCERNS.  THANK HIM FOR ALL HE IS GOING TO DO BOTH IN YOUR LIFE AND IN OUR CHURCH.  THANK HIM FOR BRINGING NEW PEOPLE TO OUR CHURCH.  THANK HIM FOR GIVING YOU WISDOM AND THE WORDS TO SPREAD HIS GOSPEL.  DO NOT WONDER IF HE WILL,  BUT RATHER   ASSUME HE IS ALREADY ON IT.  THEN SMILE AT YOURSELF IN THE MIRROR, CRAWL IN YOUR BED AND GO TO SLEEP!  IT IS NOW IN GODS HANDS!