Girls Just Wanna Have.......Shoes!

My name is Joan, and I am a shoe-aholic.

I admit it. I am a shoe Aficionado. A connoisseur of fanciful footwear. It isn’t about the cost or the designer. It is all about the cute. When I slip on a stunning pointy-toe pump, a peep toe platform, or a darling kitten heel even my size 10 boats look fabulous.

I plan my outfits around which pair of shoes I want to wear.

Alas, I have a problem.

Since the blood clots in my lungs last month my legs and feet have been getting swollen. Swollen? A vast understatment. O. MY. GOSH! It really is horrible. It’s gruesome. I don’t even have “cankles*” anymore, these days it is more like thighkles. My poor feet are bulbulous, and there are even rolls at the base of my toes and around my ankles.
Trust me, it is not cute like a baby’s.
OK, are you grossed out yet? I am! I am much too young to be beset by this hideous deformity. It isn’t right to need a sedative just to look at your legs in the morning.

My point in this tale of woe, is that I am in anguish over the fact that I cannot fit into any cute shoes right now. When I try to wear my sassy, cheetah-print pumps the top of my foot splays over the sides like a big ol’ squishy muffin-top. Squeezing my foot into my super pointy-toe red heels is like one of Cinderella’s ugly stepsisters cramming her foot into the glass slipper.
Just maybe I am paying the cost for being so vain about my cute shoes.

Jesus says:

Matthew 6:28-31And why do you worry about clothes? See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? So do not worry, saying, 'What shall we eat?' or 'What shall we drink?' or 'What shall we wear?

Joan’s translation “So, do not worry, saying, ‘What shall I wear on my feet?’

I don’t know what lesson is just waiting for me to grasp through these elephantized legs and feet. Perhaps it is as simple as maybe I don’t need cute shoes to make me feel like the belle of the ball. But just in case, maybe I’ll start a new trend of wearing them on my hands.

The Iceman Commeth

YEA! I’m back!

It’s been three weeks since the ice storm. Oh yeah, I mean THE ICE STORM. And our lives have been upside down and turned around since then.

Three weeks ago a huge storm system pelted our picturesque town with freezing rain all night. I awoke to see this beautiful sight of my backyard.The rain continued all day. About 11:00 in the morning we lost power including our home telephone and the pump that drives our well which gives us running water. In the late afternoon we began to hear snapping of tree branches. The icy drops continued to fall from the dark sky and accumulate on everything in sight.

Night came in the late afternoon. We had small pools of light thanks to all my scented candles strategically placed. Still, reading was tough by candlelight and bedtime came early.

It was an eerie night. The absolute, velvet-black surrounded us. There was no shadows, no soft glow of red, blue and green electronic reminders of power and time. The sound of creaking and cracking branches breaking and falling under the weight of ice continued all night.

The next morning I looked out the window to our backyard, the sight was not so beautiful as before, but equally breathtaking.Fallen tree limbs crossed our driveway making us captive in our dark little cocoon, which was getting colder by the minute. There was no signal for our cell phones. We could tune to our local TV station on our battery-powered radio. All day we heard updates of power outages and blocked roads.

This ICE STORM has been the most devastating natural disaster in our area since “the flood of 1937.” We have crews from all over who have come to help replace thousands of telephone poles, restore power to tens of thousands of customers, work on cable and telephone lines. The linemen have been working 16 hour days for three weeks, and there is still work to be done.


Every time I go down a street for the first time since THE ICE STORM I am astounded anew by the mess I see. There are mounds and mounds of debris piled one after another on the curb in some areas. In other yards the chaos of fallen limbs and branches remain as they fell. It is as if the task of gathering the limbs, branches, sticks, twigs and other tree-shrapnel is so overwhelming the homeowners can’t bring themselves to begin.




Here are some numbers from THE ICE STORM for my family.
9 days without power and running water in our home.
3 days without cell service.
5 nights in a hotel - thanks very much to Phil’s company!
22 days without cable and internet service.
1 happy family to have all our conveniences restored!

Project 365

Here are my pictures for the week.
Monday morning the sky looks ominous, and the moon is still out.

Meet Sadie, our Katrina rescue dog. On Tuesday morning she almost blended in with the smattering of snow.

Meet Cooper, our other pup. He is usually found wherever someone has food. Here, he is is begging from Phil..."Please sir, may I have another?"

I have a lovely view from my office don't I? I am still very thankful to have a big window.

Cameo, aka, Big White Kitty, just started standing on her two hind legs. She cracks me up when she does this, but it is a little unsettling when she just stands there and stares at me.

This is me and Leslie, one of my best and oldest friends in the whole wide world. We are at her mom's birthday party Saturday night. I don't want to tell our age, but if we were married, this year we would celebrate our anniversary with ruby.

I love the silhouette of this tree. The starkness of the branches speaks to me of its placement in the cemetary where Phil and I both have family members buried.

Project 365 - Week 1 (For me)

Today starts a new blog project for me.

If you are a blogger, or someone who peruses blogs, you will understand this.

You read a blog, enjoy it, and then link to other blogs through their list. Last Sunday I came across this one: http://thebowyers.blogspot.com. The post I read was about joining up for some kind of picture-taking “fun.”

I am not a great photographer as is pretty clear from other pictures I’ve posted. But, I was intrigued so I read more about it. Project 365 is a venture to take a photo every day for a year. According to Sara at thebowyers:

“The original post said to post your picture every day, but I didn't think I would be able to follow through with that....hence Sundays!”

So, Sunday will become my Project 365 day.

And, as usual, I am late to the party so this may be the third week of the year, but it is my first week of this project. I am sure I will not be able to keep up which week is which, so from now on don’t count on me to know what number week I am on. However, I am going to try to keep up with posting on Sundays.

I was released from the hospital on Friday, and Monday these flowers were still cheering me up.

University of Kentucky vs Tenessee. Final score: UK 90 - UT 72. Jodie Meeks #23 ROCKS!

The sun coming up through the trees in my backyard.

Thursday when I got in my car it was 8 balmy degrees outside.

Jack Frost danced across my windshield Friday morning.

Last week before I was released from the hospital I had to drink this vile, viscous stuff. I didn't notice until the second dose how the label read. I felt it worthy to save the bottle:)

Today, my first chance for church this new year. We are back in our regular Sunday School rooms, but as you can see, we will not be meeting in our Sanctuary for a long time. This is a picture of the scaffolding on the alter as they work to clean and restore after the fire on December 4, 2008.

He Said Peace Be Still - Part 2

Last Friday I woke up extremely short of breath and dizzy. As per my usual solution, I ignore it, figuring it would go away.

It does not go away.

Friday night Phil takes me to an urgent care center. They will not accept me and suggest the Emergency Room.

I am less than happy.

Off we go to the ER to spend a fun-filled Friday night. There are two ambulances parked outside the doors, and the waiting room is almost full. I know we might as well settle down for a long wait.

In a short while I am called back to the triage nurse. I answer question after question and submit to an EKG. Back to the waiting room. Now, called to the registration desk, pertinent information and insurance given. And again, back to waiting.

AHA!

After only a few minutes my name is called and I am wheeled back, huffing and puffing, cutting line in front of all those waiting before me.

When I get to my cubicle an emergency tech is waiting. More questions. Hospital gown. IV started. Blood pressure, pulse ox and heart rhythm; wrapped, wired and reporting.

Now the real waiting begins.

Every once in a while I am poked and prodded, or wheeled away for additional tests.

I still expect to receive a shot of some type, go home, and feel ridiculous for wasting everyone’s time.

The ER doctor comes in and says I will be admitted.

Waiting,

Waiting,

Waiting…

Finally, a room. More questions. More poking. And… rest, for a couple hours anyway.

The next day, more tests, more tubes and ICU. I am dumbfounded! I am alert and I am in little pain.

By Sunday night I am out of ICU and back on the floor. I lose the IV and the oxygen. I feel pretty good when I am very still.

A friend from Sunday School comes to visit and brings me a copy of her sermon notes. The lesson was taken from Psalm 46; Being Still In God’s Presence.

Psalm 46:10 Be still and know that I am God.

“OK God, I do hear you.“ I say. There seems to be this recurrent theme in my life lately.

Last Friday, the first working day of 2009. There is so much for me to do at work to do to close out 2008. There are bills for me to attend to at home. Our Christmas tree is still up, and the house is a mess. And I am thinking, “here I am, stuck in the hospital, and cannot do anything about it.”

At first I worry, my natural tendency. Then, I realize, I cannot do anything about the “storms” that pressure me so, and I am almost joyful at the thought.

I know that God has been trying to teach me for some time now to “BE STILL.”

In my previous blog I said:

“Try as I may, I am lost. I can not find my way to be still. I know what to do, I just don’t know anymore, how to do it.”

God found a way.

Instead of wasting an entire week laid up in a hospital bed, worrying about the things I could not be doing, I had the opportunity for rest. I know it sounds unbelievable that one can find rest in a place where they wake you up several times during the night to take your vital signs and blood.

But it is true.

I take this week as a gift from God. He had to literally knock the wind out of me for me to be still, but I learned that it does not have to all depend on me. I do not have to carry the weight of the world on my shoulders. During last week I had many moments to be still and to seek God.

I am sure this last week was not the best way for me to begin a new work year. I am sure I will not feel quite so peaceful when I return and see the state of my desk. However, I am also certain God watched over me and gave me rest and stillness in the midst of my illness, to renew me, to teach me a new lesson, and a new beginning for a new year.

This year, I will remember that being still before God does a body more good than the same time spent worrying.

Psalm 46:1 God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble.

He Said “Peace Be Still” - Part 1

For many years the song Peace Be Still has been in our repertoire for Living Pictures, and has been a favorite of many. This year, as our church choir sang in unfamiliar territory, saddened by our recent loss, and in the midst of personal chaos, the words took on new meaning for me.

I have felt the strain of constant stress over the past few months. Sometimes I felt as if I could win an Olympic medal in “WORRY.”

I felt pressure at work to compensate for an ill co-worker and to complete special projects and reports without falling behind in my own duties. My health just hasn’t “felt right.” I’ve had myriad small complaints of this-and-that which led me to general and constant malaise and grumbling. I worried over property taxes and Christmas, and the general state of our financial status in light of the current economy. I have worked on my writing, and helping to lead my Sunday School Class, which hasn’t come easily while in the midst of this stress-storm.

As a result there is guilt I’ve heaped on myself for shorting everyone; family, Girlfriends Class, church family, friends in general and work.

All of this culminated with the fire in our sanctuary. Our beautiful, peaceful sanctuary, where I first made a profession of faith, was baptized, married and ordained as a deacon. Many significant moments in my life, and encounters with God’s Holy Presence, took place within those walls.

If only I were a bear! I could crawl in a cave and hibernate until the storms pass and awaken to spring when everything is fresh and new.

As we practiced our limited songs of Living Pictures in a strange sanctuary the words took on personal significance.

When trouble rained upon me,
Sorrows gathered like a fog,
And it seemed my Savior’s face was hid from mine.
My heavy heart was full of doubt,
Shaken by the storm.
Then I felt His words bring comfort deep inside.

For the first time I truly understand this song is not just about the disciples in the boat during a storm. The song describes the storms of life we all feel from time to time. It describes me to a “T.”

He said peace be still.
And the winds and rains were calmed by His voice.
He said peace be still
And a miracle began
By the power of His command,
Peace be still.

OH, it seemed as if God was speaking directly to me.

In the space of a few measures of music I feel His love very clearly, cutting through all the worry and stress. I feel His gentle reminder of the way to peace,

Perfect peace,
His peace.

I only need to be still and know that He is God and that He has everything in His perfect care.

Be Still.

Easier said than done, I find.

In the words of the BeeGees:

How can you stop the rain from falling down?
How can you stop the sun from shining?
How can a loser ever win?

How can I be still when I continue to have the worries of the world surrounding me?

I must report to work, my aches and pains give me no relief, the economy still tanks. I try to retain that sense of love and peace I felt as we sang that song. I recite the words almost as a mantra to snatch a few minutes of the serenity garnered that day.

Try as I may, I am lost. I can not find my way to be still. I know what to do, I just don’t know anymore, how to do it.

The 12 Days of Christmas - Day 12

Grace, Grace, Grace

Luke 11:9
So I say to you: Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.

The lesson for today is to graciously receive.

Do you have a favorite Christmas gift that stands out in your memory?

This season Lexus has a commercial that shows a little boy with a new Big Wheel. He looks at the camera and says,

"Stop. What are you doing?”
“You can’t top the Big Wheel memory. It was the
best present ever.”
"Remember the freedom, the wind in your hair?”
"It’s the Big Wheel. Look at it! Nothing could ever be this… "

The camera pans to the kid all grown up gazing, adoringly at a new Lexus with a bright red bow on top.

"...great.”

When I was 12 or 13 I wanted a grown up bike, a 10-speed just like my older sisters. I used every opportunity to convince my parents I needed a brand new, bright blue 10-speed bike. I was just like Ralphie slyly bringing a Red Ryder BB gun into every conversation in A Christmas Story.

On Christmas morning that bike was under the tree and it was beautiful. It is still one of my all-time favorite Christmas presents.

But, like the little boy who grows up from loving his Big Wheel to his Lexus, I have learned there are better gifts than my brand new, bright blue 10-speed bike.

Gifts that are freely given.
All we have to do is graciously receive them.

Here are the best gifts I can think of:

The gift of salvation - the true gift that keeps giving
Unending grace
Complete acceptance
Perfect Love
Eternal Hope

What’s the best gift you’ve ever received?

On the 12th Day of Christmas think about the greatest gift. The gift that came to us as a Babe, wrapped in swaddling cloths. This gift is freely offered to you, all you have to do is receive it.

The 12 Days of Christmas - Day 11

Money, Money, Money, Money……Money

Luke 21:2-4
He also saw a poor widow put in two very small copper coins. I tell you the truth," he said, "this poor widow has put in more than all the others. All these people gave their gifts out of their wealth; but she out of her poverty put in all she had to live on.

“The Gift of the Magi,” by O. Henry is the story of a young couple, happily married but struggling to make ends meet at Christmas. In the story Della sells her prized hair to buy Jim a watch fob, and Jim sells his watch to purchase a beautiful set of combs for her hair.

This is a classic story of sacrifice for a loved one. Like the poor widow in Luke, Della and Jim gave a gift of love, out of their poverty, for each other. In this season of economic hardship we should be reminded that it isn’t always the expensive gifts that are the most meaningful.

I have a friend who had no money to purchase a birthday gift for a friend one year, so she wrote her a prayer letter. She penned a prayer of blessing using God’s word for her friend and her family. The response was more heartfelt than Lee could have imagined, or hoped for. (If you are interested in learning more about prayer letters go to: http://www.prayergifts.net/) A gift given from the heart, like my friend, Lee’s prayer letters, tells the recipient that you invested yourself into their gift.

On the eleventh day of Christmas I promise to give responsibly. I promise to give the gift of love in word and deed, and to give out of love and not for show.

The 12 Days of Christmas - Day 10

There Is No Such Thing As Perfection

Philippians 3:12
Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already been made perfect, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me.

My church family is experiencing a time of displacement after the fire in our sanctuary. Last week we should have held our 25th Annual Presentation of The Life of Christ in Living Pictures. The halls should have been bustling with people, the pews filled to capacity. The parking lot should have been full of cars.

Last Sunday we found ourselves in a strange place. A local church graciously offered the use of their sanctuary for a scaled down offering of “Come Celebrate Jesus.” The building was beautiful. The sound system was terrific and the people who helped were absolutely wonderful.

But, it wasn’t Immanuel. It wasn’t the presentation we had been anticipating.

I was deeply saddened and disappointed.

As we sang I felt the peace of God envelope me. I saw the smile return to our Music Minister’s face. I felt the love of God overflow my heart and come out as tears. And I saw those same tears of joy mixed with sadness on the faces next to me, and in the audience.

The presentation last Sunday was not perfect. It was not the way we had envisioned it. But, God took our offering and perfected it His way. Last Sunday was another reminder to me that we are not perfect and our lives are not perfect, but God is.

No matter how we pressure ourselves to create a “perfect” Christmas season, perfection on earth is a fantasy. I believe there will be perfect moments. There will be times that catch us by surprise and we’ll wish we could freeze them for eternity. But, there will also be times when the kids are fighting, the gift isn’t right, the gravy is lumpy and when you forget the real reason for the celebration.

Throughout this season don’t let imperfections spoil your holiday. Open your heart to the joy around you and the One Perfect Gift who never disappoints.

The 12 Days of Christmas - Day 9

What, Me Worry?
Fay Hogancamp

Luke 12:25-26
Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life? Since you cannot do this very little thing, why do your worry about the rest?

My 17-year-old daughter, Kathy, had broken her neck in a car accident in July, 1971, and was paralyzed from the neck down. She spent her first three months in the hospital, having developed pneumonia. She was so weak that she traveled to Frazier Rehabilitation Hospital in Louisville by ambulance.

I went to visit her frequently, but finally she was coming home for Christmas, the first time she would be home since her accident. The whole family was excited.

Kathy’s older brother was getting married. His fiancée wanted a Christmas wedding, so it was scheduled during Christmas week. Since we are a do-it-yourself family, I was planning to sew my own dress and my youngest daughter’s dress. Also, I had insisted on having the rehearsal dinner at my house because I enjoyed quantity cooking and our large house adapted well to large crowds.

I spent most of the first week of December with Kathy at the Rehab Hospital, returning to a nearby motel to sleep. I had not done any Christmas shopping for my seven children yet. While I was cutting out the fabric for my dress, I suddenly got panicky - how would I ever get everything done?

Once Kathy was home, I would have to turn her over twice at night, dress her in the morning and transfer her to her electric wheelchair. She was fairly self-sufficient during the day, if we cut her food. Then at night I would have to do her night routine plus giving her a bed bath.

I wished we could skip Christmas this year; it was a job just to decorate the house. Around this time the phone rang; it was my brother excitedly calling from California to inform me that his family was coming to celebrate Christmas with us, and would stay for the wedding. This was a sign to me that it would be impossible to skip Christmas. Of course, I couldn’t let my children down, and my parents always joined us for the holidays from their home in Kirkwood, Missouri.

I ordered Christmas gifts from the Sears catalog, and made a quick trip to a department store downtown. Fortunately, my girls were old enough to appreciate clothes. My daughters were a big help in getting the house in order, and David reluctantly put the tree up in the front hall and decorated it.

I also had to make room for our house guests; the girls had to double up in their rooms, and I had to hunt up fresh linens. My once-a-week cleaning woman was indispensable at this time. I brought a station wagon full of groceries and finally we were ready for my extended family and Santa.

I don’t know why I worried! When Kathy arrived home for the first time in six months, we celebrated. It didn’t matter that she was in a wheelchair; she was the same fun-loving Kathy. I was glad that my brother’s family came all that distance to help us celebrate Kathy’s return home and the Lord’s birth.

Christmas was very special that year; we thanked the Lord that although our three daughters were in that terrible July accident, all was well!

The rehearsal dinner kept growing as my daughter-in-law was having a quartet sing at the wedding, and thought they should attend with their wives. In addition, she had invited her friends who were going to serve at the reception. I would have to borrow tables and chairs. It wasn’t the fancy restaurant dinner that she had envisioned, but I thought having it at our home made it much nicer.

The large wedding was beautiful, and I was blessed to have my whole family present. God must have expanded time, as I wasn’t rushed, and everything got done! I was truly thanking and praising our good Lord!

On Day 10 remember; our almighty God, who numbers the hairs on our heads can supply our every need.