I leave on Friday, and will drive my cruiseless Honda to Arkansas, where I will spend the night at my brother’s house and see my cool niece, Emme.

Then Saturday morning we will toodle to the airport, meet up with the Camino girls - Lora, Sharla, Hannah, and Katie - and then we will pop over the pond to Portugal.

I have been reading “I Would Walk 500 Miles” by Sean Dietrich. It is about Sean and his wife, Jamie, walking the Camino. He says there are 17 different types of snoring. He learned this from staying in hostels. (I can't wait to experience that!😅)

Changing to a different, but inspiring (to me) topic -

This is my new hero - Dale GreyBeard. He is 91 and just completed the Appalachain Trail! He did not walk it straight through, but he did complete it in a year. That is 2,200 miles! He says that one day his legs got a little wobbly at the end of a 12 mile day, so he laid down on the trail, took a little power nap and then got up and finished hiking for the day. He also said he fell 71 times. But he kept getting up, and kept on walking. One fall even landed him in the hospital for a short stay.

For his 87th birthday, he paddled the entire length of the Mississippi River in 87 days.

Dale GreyBeard, you are awesome! I want to be just like you when I grow up.

It made me want to do something really “pivotal” on my birthday, which is in October. Nothing too crazy - I don’ t want to go skydiving or get on one of those slingshot rides, but something meaningful.

Maybe it will be a brunch in the creek, like this. My niece, Brooklyn, sent me that picture and said we should do something like that, and I was like, YES!

Let me know if you would like to attend.

The one that keeps coming back to me is this one - Behold, I am the Lord, the God of all flesh: is there anything too hard for me? Jeremiah 32:27

I have read that story in Jeremiah many times, and it is so inspiring to me.

Jeremiah was in prison. Jerusalem had been under siege for a year. It looked like the city was going to fall to the Babylonian’s.

God spoke to Jeremiah in his prison cell and told him to buy a field from his cousin. A field that was outside the city walls and occupied by enemy soldiers. It didn’t make sense. And I wonder if it wasn’t a bit hard for Jeremiah to go forth in faith to buy it. But he did it. His cousin came to him in the palace prison and asked him to buy the field. That bolstered Jeremiah’s faith because his cousin came to him just as God said he would.

The silver was weighed out; the deed signed, witnessed, sealed, and placed in a pottery jar for preservation.

It was a promise from God; a prophetic sign of hope. God was saying that this isn’t the end; someday houses, vineyards and fields will again be purchased in this land.

But even after the purchase, Jeremiah still wondered about it. He prayed to the Lord and reminded him of the siege ramps built against the city walls and that soon the city would be overtaken by the Babylonian’s; and then he says, “and yet you have told me to buy a field.”

And God reminds him - “Behold, I am the Lord, the God of all flesh: is there anything too hard for me?”

I want that verse to be real to me in the sense that no matter what happens in my life, God will help me through it. I have often looked at that verse and thought that God can give me what I want because he can do anything. Instead, I want to look at it from the standpoint of no matter what difficult thing I face, I know God will give me strength because nothing is too hard for him. He will walk every mile with me, whisper strength to me though his Word, comfort me in the darkness, and give me the tiniest breath of courage to get up in the morning and face another day.

Because he has promised. He has said that nothing is too hard for him.

This morning I looked at my battered, bug-eaten hibiscus plant and was inspired by it. I mean look at it; it looks positively dreadful, ravaged by bugs (in spite of all the bug spray I have applied.) But nevertheless, it blooms! It doesn’t let the onslaught of disease stop it from blooming. It has also been viciously pruned, but still it blooms.

When I saw it this morning, I thought, “I want to be just like that.” I want to bloom even if life is hard. And it doesn’t have to be a huge hibiscus bloom. A tiny sprig of honeysuckle on the fencerow is just as beautiful and smells amazing - and I would actually choose it over a hibiscus any day of the week.

As I write this, I realize that my life has been easy. I really feel like I don’t even know what I am talking about. But I want that faith deep in my soul that no matter what, nothing is too hard for God.

Has God asked you to buy a field? Has he asked you to believe that someday you will smile again? That someday your prayer will be answered?

I think that tiny breath of courage that falls so softly on the soul is his promise that “nothing is too hard for me.”

Don’t look at your shredded leaves, instead, look up to the sun. Bloom, if you can. And if you can’t bloom, just hold onto your last tattered leaf.

Buy the field. Put the deed in a pottery jar and set it by the window where the sun hits it every morning… let it remind you that your deepest fears, your worries, and your difficult things - they are not too hard for God.

I took a 7 mile walk this morning, laden down with my backpack. It was a lovely morning, coolish and it felt kinda fallish.

I snagged a sprig of honeysuckle as I was walking, because I felt like it was probably one of the last times I would see it this summer. I held it to my nose and inhaled deeply. I was instantly transported to my childhood on a Mississippi soybean farm. I felt like a hot, sweaty kid who was prowling through the bushes in the yard, imagining herself to be a famous explorer - maybe Coronado searching for the seven cities of gold.

I walked by the home of 3-Legged, who is a dog that Stetson (my dog) is terrified of.

So that is 3-Legged. I don’t know his real name, but he only has 3 legs so thus the name I have given him. One time, about a year ago, he went after Stetson and they had a teensy little scuffle. Stetson whimpered and whined like he was in his death throes but all I ever found was one itty bitty red mark on him. Ever since then he is scared to walk by that house if 3-Legged is out in the yard. All 3-Legged does is lay there with his Border Collie crouch and stare at Stetson. And then Stetson loses all his bravery. Usually, I give many encouragements as we walk by, coaxing him along; however, today I decided not to do that. Stetson was on his own. I soon realized that he was nowhere to be found. I turned around and went back to find the wimpy dude. All I could see was the top of his head as he was way out in the pasture, hiding in the weeds, because 3-Legged was laying by the road. I coaxed and cajoled and he did a wide circle through the pasture and slunk under the fence and joined me on the road. It still took many encouraging words until we were safely past 3-Legged, once the danger was gone, he returned to his normal carefree self.

And it made me think. I thought about how many times I get freaked out about things and I get all tied up in the weeds of my worries. I sit there and look around and all I can see are rather outlandish scenarios and fears. Then God always comes and finds me in the weeds and tells me that with him, all those things will be okay. In fact, he says I don’t even need to worry about them, just leave it all to him.

So, then I trundle myself out of the weed patch, and just like ole Stetson, I trot on down the road, once again knowing I am safe in God’s hand.

Fear thou not; for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness. Isaiah 49:10

That is one of my very favorite verses.

After I got home from my walk, my amazing niece came over with her dog, and we took a long creek walk. It was a perfect day for creek walks, not too hot, really, it was like baby bears bowl of porridge - just right. We walked a long way down the creek, further than I had ever been. The water was lovely and clear, we didn’t see any snakes, the dogs had the bestest time. We talked about all manner of things and it was so good.

It is 9 days until I leave for the Camino. I am so excited! I wish it was tomorrow. I have to work 6 more days, which seems like a really long time. I got my passport out and looked at my picture. It is not flattering. I looked at all the stuff on my spare room bed; I squished most of it in my pack. I added a few things to my Amazon cart. (This really is the final cart.) I thought about eating tomatoes and bread in Spain. I listened to messages on the Camino chat and thought about how much I like the girls I am going with. I really don’t know them very well, but they are of the race that knows Joseph.

You know, it really was a good day.

It is nothing short of fun.

My addiction started a few years ago when I needed more pantry space in my smallish house. I started surfing around on Marketplace and found all kinds of cool pantry cupboards. I found one in Nashville that I really liked. I borrowed my dad’s pickup and toodled off to get it.

Dad armed me with ratchet straps and gave me a little tutorial of how to use them, and it all seemed really easy. Until I got to the lady's house and loaded it up and then the ratchet strap seemed to be working in a foreign language. Luckily the lady's husband was home, and he had mercy on this ratchet strap ignoramus and came out and made sure the pantry was secure.

After that, I was hooked. I even sent the lady a picture of the pantry when I got it all set up. I was so excited about it. She seemed excited as well. (Now that I have sold a thing or 2 on Marketplace, I understand the excitement of finally getting rid of something.)

And there is the pantry in all its glory. (Please do not zoom in on it and see all the chaos in it.)

Next, I got a little china hutch. To be honest, I can’t remember the particulars on that one. It must have been a normal, boring deal. My favorite Marketplace deal is if things are a little sketchy. Like when I am driving down the lane to the person’s house and it gets narrower and narrower, and maybe the hairs on my arms stand up a little.

This is a loveseat that dad and I went to get. I think he had a lot of reservations, but he nicely kept them to himself. The roads got more and more remote and we saw fewer and fewer houses and even I was getting a little unsure. I thought it probably was an abduction scheme, and we were walking right into it.

I do go to furniture stores to look for furniture, but it isn’t nearly as much fun. No creeping down sketchy winding roads and no ferocious barking dogs in weedy yards. Just a calm atmosphere, with desperate salespeople. No thank you. No haggling or low-balling through messages. Now I must admit that I would NEVER have the guts to low-ball someone face to face. But over a message? Oh yeah, I will definitely do that.

Case in point - Tony and the shoes. I found a pair of Brooks tennis shoes for sale in my own town of Murray. What a stroke of luck! Tony wanted $70 for them. He said they were $140 new. I offered $50. He said nope, he wouldn’t take it. I decided I was not gonna back down. So, I watched them for about 3 weeks. Obviously, I was the only one in Murray that wanted them. I reached out again and offered $55. Tony snatched my offer right up. I was at work and he came to the main entrance of the hospital in his white truck; I zipped out with my $55 in cash clutched in my hand and Tony handed over the goods. He did stare at me quite intensely, but aside from that it was a very boring encounter. Rather disappointing really.

(The shoes are amazing by the way. I feel like I could run really fast in them. That may come in handy in a future marketplace encounter, probably better wear them to my next deal.)

I found an amazing table that I really love. The house where I got it from was just a teensy bit sketch, and again, my dad was unsure about the saggy porch, and general unkept appearance of the house.

Isn’t that the coolest table? I am still quite in love with it. It fits my small space perfectly. And the chairs are the bomb.

After I got that table, I decided that I needed another table for company. So, I went on a hunt for a Duncan Phyfe dropleaf table. You know, my Grandma Becker had one and I wish I would have wanted it back then, but of course I didn’t. Anyways, I found this one in Murray and I love it so much.

It came with 3 leaves and is in perfect condition. I could have a large portion of the congregation over when it is all stretched out.

There is just such a good little endorphin rush over a good find. You know the whole thrill of the hunt.

Please don’t ever buy your furniture at a store. That is so dull and uninteresting.

Now I have been looking at vending machines. I decided that I would like to quit my nurse job and start a vending machine route. You know, a vending machine with healthy snacks - like sardines, Optavia fuelings, garden tomatoes - not sure how the tomato thing would work, but wouldn’t it be great to grab a luscious tomato on the run?

I’m telling you, the possibilities are endless on the Marketplace.

Eeeeeek! 19 days until I leave for the Camino. No, I do not feel ready. I still have my final Amazon cart that I need to hit the proceed to check out button on. I keep adding more and more last-minute items to the cart. Like I saw a post about someone getting bedbugs at an Albergue and so I went straight to Amazon and added a silk sleeping bag liner. Cause that seems like solid protection, ain’t no bugs gonna crawl in there with me.

This is our first Albergue in Porto, Portugal. I already know that I will be assigned the top bunk. Thankfully though, I do not have a habit of falling out of bed at night. I am so excited about staying in Albergue's. I think it will be a very entertaining experience. “Joao” says this in his review - “It’s a wonderful hostel, large rooms, wonderful bathrooms.” Yay, Joao! But no one mentioned hair dryers. I am very attached to my hair dryer. I feel a bit panic-y if I forget it on a trip. But. This will be a real turning point in my life. Because I am not taking a hair dryer. I think this may change the trajectory of my future.

Also, someone in the Camino group has informed me that there can be no early morning singing. I did agree to that because I do not want to be banned from all Albergue’s in Spain and Portugal. (Now I do not normally warble away in the mornings, I mean there is the occasional morning when I am feeling exceedingly joyous and then I may break out into a vigorous melodious (?) warble in the privacy and aloneness of my own home.) (Ok, sometimes it creeps out into my ‘beach buddies’ chat too….)

Moving on to other Saturday-ish things.

I went to farmers market this morning. That is one of my favorite things in the world. Caitlin and Dana, my work friends, joined me. Dana would talk to all the vendors, and she would get us all sucked in to the whole story and sales pitch and then I would feel like I needed to buy something from them. We got sucked into a long eulogy about the wonders of beeswax cloths - the lady gave a fabulous sales pitch about how wonderful they are and how much better they will keep your leftovers than that ole inferior saran wrap. By the time she was done I felt like I should buy her whole booth.

I got this okra at farmers market, and it made me feel happy when I was cutting it up tonight. A great green pile of okra snowflakes.

I also got sweet corn. I would like to know something, do you imagine yourself to be a combine when you are eating corn on the cob? (Asking for a friend.) How do you eat corn on the cob? I am a strict left to right, eat it in a nice straight line sort of person. I have heard that some people eat it around and around. I had never heard of such until today. Kinda shook me up a little. I mean, what else are these people doing?

I SAW GOLDENROD TODAY. I am NOT happy about that.

Goldenrod is a harbinger of Autumn.

I am NOT mentally ready for fall. And the reason I am not ready for fall is because I am not ready for another long, cold, dismal winter. I stopped in my tracks when I saw that goldenrod, all pleased and proud, out in the field, and I said, “NO!”

I do not like winter. I do not like it Sam I am.

Today was so blissfully hot, I loved it. I took Stetson (the dog) for a creek walk, and it was marvelous. I took a nice swim in the swimming hole and felt just like a regular “back to the earth” person. The water was cool and clear; the little schools of fish scuttled away in horror as I swam by. It felt amazing. It felt like summer. And I loved it.

Just think, in 19 days I will be writing to you from Porto, Portugal.

I can’t wait!

Goodnight, friends.

Last week I went to Arkansas to stay with my favorite 9-year-old while her mom and dad went off for a little date trip.

My heart did a little trippity-trip when I drove up to my brother’s house, and here she came tripsing across the yard to meet me and give me a squeezy hug. Awww… I really do love that child.

First, we went for a ride in the side-by-side. Emme drove of course, and I tried to keep from succumbing to whip lash from all the abrupt stops and rapid accelerations. We drove through the cow herd, she said she was looking to see if any of them had “bad eyes” because she and dad did that every evening. I don’t feel like the cows appreciated the disturbance of their leisurely evening grazing session - at least that is the impression I got from the grumpy moos and tails held straight out as they galloped away from us in a cloud of dust.

Mom and Dad left on Saturday morning and then we were on our own. Many suggestions came forth from the 9-year-old. “Let’s go to a waterpark!” (Now I do love a good waterpark and did think that sounded fun.) Next was, “Let’s go to a toy store!” And then, let’s go to the Amazeum! I googled it and thought it looked like fun, so we headed out.

The Amazeum is a kid’s museum with all kinds of hands-on interactive activities that made me wish I was also 9 years old. A Wal-Mart store just for kids that really was cool. It was literally a miniature Wal-Mart. Grab your basket, put on your Wal-Mart vest, and get to work. Emme sailed around like an old pro. If she works like that when she gets a real job, she will be employee of the month every single month! She was very busy helping me (the customer) with all my problems. I was so lonesome since my husband had died and was sobbing into my handkerchief and my little Wal-Mart employee was so comforting. She helped me find sourdough bread for my supper company. She was my checkout lady and scanned my groceries in record time. She warned me when a tornado was brewing in Bentonville and directed me to the tornado shelter. I sat in the deli, and she made me the most delicious BLT in record time. Everything was done with great speed and efficiency.

We spent 4 hours in that museum; the Wal-Mart store was definitely the favorite. (I was needing a frappe with extra espresso at the 4 hour point.)

We went home and played school. We had a rowdy bunch of imaginary kids. One of Mrs. Andre’s students suddenly disappeared. Caroline (the imaginary student) had jumped on a horse and was galloping across the school yard and she rode straight into the pond. Terrible things happened to her in the pond, she got a snake bite, she broke her arm, and she was struck deaf and blind. We just sent her off to the school for the blind as we didn’t feel equipped to teach her any longer.

We went outside for recess and played Red Rover, Red Rover, send Pam right over. Then we played 10 steps around the house, with Mrs. Rosenburg (me) getting caught every little bit.

After school was out, it was decided by the committee (which consisted of one small child) that we would have a slumber party that night. The committee said she would make pudding. She rummaged around in the cupboards and found some fancy crystal goblets to put the pudding in. (Which we later found out were actually candle holders from her mom’s wedding table.)

A trip to the Dollar General was in order because we had to get supplies for the slumber party. We needed the squirty whipped cream for the pudding and kit kat’s to crush on top. The committee wanted to take Zippy the dog into the Dollar General with us. The mean aunt said no, we were not doing that. Many huffy breaths came from the committee’s corner, and she felt like she truly had the most unreasonable aunt in the entire world. Because “people bring their dogs into Dollar General all the time!”

Food is one of the main ingredients to any respectable slumber party. We created a very fancy, very delectable tray with crunchy green grapes, chunks of cheese, and bologna. I’m telling you, we were fancy! Emme placed a candle in a bologna chunk and turned the lights out, lit the candle and we both made wishes and blew it out together. Of course we didn’t tell our wishes, because then they wouldn’t come true.

All of our glorious snacks were trundled up the stairs to Emme’s room. The lights were dimmed; flashlights were set up in strategic locations so that our shadows were illuminated on the wall. Soft music from her noise maker was playing… oh the magic!

I declared the pudding absolutely divine. We savored the grapes and cheese, with delectable bologna thrown in occasionally. (Try this for your next slumber party, it is deeeelishus!) We talked about various and sundry things, such as what did we want to be when we grew up? I wanted to be a jockey and race in the Kentucky Derby. Emme was dead set on being a teacher.

Next it was time to dance. The food was cleared away; the sound machine was changed to a more “dancier” vibe and the two ballerinas - Pharadrilla a La La, and Josephina Rose swept onto the stage. We pirouetted gracefully to the music, arms gracefully reaching out as we swirled and swayed. I showed her my bourree move in which I took very tiny, very rapid steps across the stage, I asked Emme if I looked like a famous dancer, she giggled and said, “No you look funny!” Our shadows reflected mysteriously on the wall, as we danced and glided across the darkened stage. The crowd went wild, calling “Encore, encore!” The music changed to rock a bye baby and the dancing continued at a slower, less dramatic pace. But still oh so graceful and oh so beautiful in the shadowy wall.

It truly was fun… and it made me feel 9 again. And do you know what? That was a fun feeling. Just for one evening to be a kid. To see the world through 9-year-old eyes. If you haven’t done that lately, well, I highly recommend it!

After the slumber party, we went out to the pool for a swim in the darkness. We played Marco Polo and hide and seek. How do you play hide and seek in the pool? It does sort of work in the dark. The stars were so beautiful as we swam and splashed vigorously. We also kept a sharp eye out for skunks because apparently, according to Emme, they are plagued with skunks.

When we were driving to the Dollar General to get slumber party supplies, I saw a house for sale. I said, “I should buy that house and move here!” Emme said, “Do! Then we could have slumber parties all the time.”

I wish, sweet girl. I wish.

Small moments and small things are my very favorite things.

For example, my mom left this note on my counter yesterday.

I peered in the fridge, and there was a crispy, zero sugar, Orange Crush. I felt warm circles go around my heart. It was such a mom thing, one of the thousand gazillion small things she has done for me in my forty plus years. I felt her love; I tasted it in that crispy orangeness.

A note on my desk at work -

Again, oh so small, but touching a chord in my soft, smooshy heart.

The friend that brought me pickled beets because they know how much I love them.

Ahhhh…. it just does something to my innards to know that someone stopped and thought, “Oh, I think Missy would like this.”

The friend who faithfully messages me and tells me that she missed me if I am not in church. Do this for your friends. Don’t think, “I am intruding on their privacy.” Stop thinking those thoughts and send the text.

My dad fixing my beloved, favorite recliner. Seriously, I was so concerned about it. You have no idea how in love I am with that recliner. It is AMAZING! It envelops your body just right, and is like the perfect bit of comfort, like being a child again on your mother’s bosom. So, the footrest stopped working and I was stressing out and having visions of this amazing recliner never being the same again. Why did I ever worry? My dad can literally fix anything. He came over and fiddled around with it - and I watched like an old mother hen, worried that he might fatally wound the amazing chair. But all my fears were in vain, he went to town, found a part and THE RECLINER IS FIXED! All is well in my world! I don’t think he had any idea how happy that made me. I told him, but I wonder if he really knew the depths of my joy. (You probably aren’t getting it either, but if you ever come over and sit in said recliner, THEN you will get it.)

The way the sun hits just right on my porch in the mornings. I sit there, in the yellow Adirondack chair, and soak it in. It literally feels like God infusing my soul with his love, all warm, pure, and beautiful.

The little wren that built a nest in my sweet potato vine. It makes me so happy when I peer in the nest and see those tiny eggs. (Alas, it does not make mama happy though, she flutters away in great dismay and lands on a nearby branch, watching me reprovingly with her bright little eyes.)

Little things are so beautiful. I will gladly spend my life going about doing the teensy, tiny, miniscule things.

For it is the quiet and the small, in the ordinary and the mundane, that we find the beautiful.

I think God transformed his temperament and personality rather than erasing it and completely changing it. It took time. Years of being keen to God’s voice.

Is God ever in a hurry? I don’t think so. He gently molds us over many years. He is gentle, kind, and he oh so softly asks us to choose the difficult thing over the easy thing. He prunes a little here and encourages us to not choose the selfish path today but instead to spend a little time and effort on someone else.

I think sometimes we expect too much from someone who has met the Lord. I know I have. I expect instant, dramatic change. If you were negative, well, now I expect you to exude positivity.

When Joshua led the Israelites into Canaan, the promised land, they immediately began to conquer the land. But it wasn’t instant. It took seven years.

Our journey with God is a lifelong process. Often when we look back, we can see how beautifully and perfectly God worked in our lives.

Case in point. I used to work on a medical floor in the hospital. I loved my coworkers so much. They were funny, we laughed a lot every day. They would always help me out if I was in a bind. I counted them as friends. But somehow almost every conversation took a slant towards the off-color realm. I did not join in, but I always laughed along with them. (So really, I did join in.) I got used to it. No longer did I find it appalling. I found that I started thinking that way too. And then, I started thinking that my church people were kind of prudish.

One day I saw a job posting for PACU in my hospital. I applied without giving it much thought. I had an interview, was offered the job, mulled it over for a week or two, and then accepted the position.

Oh, how I missed my old coworkers. I thought my new coworkers were drab and boring. I wanted to go back to my old floor. I regretted my decision.

A year and a half flew by. One day God spoke to me. You know how he does that - he suddenly pulls back the veil a little and shows you what he has been working on in your life.

I realized that he took me out of my previous work environment because he saw what was happening in my heart. I became aware of how much I loved my new coworkers and our “cleaner” atmosphere. Oh sure, there are still those moments when the conversation veers to the ditch, that is going to be almost anywhere, but for the most part it is a healthy, fun environment.

I became aware of a desire to be a Christian woman of purity. Something that I feel I was previously lacking. Something that I now see as a beautiful thing. Nothing prudish about it.

God worked that in my life, and it took a year and a half! And if you knew how many times over that year I “kicked against the pricks” and longed for my old coworkers, how many times I almost went back to that floor, and how many times I thought my new coworkers were so drab and boring. God didn’t listen to my complaining, he knew what was best for me, and he kept right on working in my heart, unbeknownst to me.

It was a huge lesson to me. I have been so inspired by the goodness and patience of God. It has shown me that I in turn need to be patient with others who are undergoing transformations.

But let patience have her perfect work, that ye may be perfect and entire, wanting nothing. James 1:4

And you know what? We can always trust God’s timeline. It may be slow, but he always accomplishes his transformations in perfect time.

For starters, I was late to church this morning. So, I sat on the second to last bench and wow! It is interesting back there. I usually sit way up front but after this morning I am wavering on that decision. I shared this with one of my fellow “way-up-front” by sitters and she said, “Yes, it is interesting, but it is more difficult to listen to the sermon. Well to be honest, I don’t recall one word of the Sunday school introduction because I was way too busy surveying the whole interesting scene.

Moving on.

My favorite thing from Sunday school was this - someone said that they liked to go to Wal-Mart when they weren’t in a rush and then they made a point to look for people that they could interact with and help. She said, “I am taller, so if I see someone struggling to get something from a high shelf, I say, here let me get that for you.” She said, “It is so much fun!” I love that so much.

Someone said they commune with God all day long. Not just at a set time in the morning. They have a running commentary with him throughout the day. Isn’t that beautiful?

During the worship service, we stood and sang our memory song, which is, “Our God He Is Alive.” That is one of my very favorite parts of the service. I always want to raise my hands because it feels like the moment needs more expression from my heart. Someone recently said that they thought raising one’s hands in worship may have originated with the Isrealites when they presented the “wave offering” to God.

In the afternoon I loaded up my lawn chair and moseyed down to the creek. It was absolute perfection in Narnia-land. I placed my lawn chair in the middle of a rippling stream and sprawled out, foot dangling in the water. The water was clear and beautiful; the trees formed a lush, shady bower above me and the moss grew thick on the creek bank in front of me. (To be fair it was also lush with poison ivy.)

I listened to the symphony of the woods - birds chirping and singing, leaves fluttering in the breeze, the waters continuous soothing ripple, and a lawnmower droning in the distance. It was so zen. Did you know that listening to nature triggers the brains “rest and digest response,” which physically lowers the heart rate and cortisol levels? Natural soundscapes, like my creek, reduce everyday stress, combat negative moods and improves cognitive function.

As I was sitting out there with my foot dangling in the cool water and thinking about all the benefits of nature, I thought that I would like to have a nursing home on the banks of the creek. It would be called, Life is Better, Creekside. (I don’t know that sounds kinda lame, may have to come up with a better name than that.) Anyways, every afternoon I would bring the residents into the creek to sit on their respective lawn chairs or would push their wheelchairs out there. Then I would take off their TED hose and SAS shoes and let them dangle their bare bunion and corn feet in the water. There we would all sit for an hour or two or three while the restorative therapy of nature restored everyone’s cortisol.

While they were being restored, I would be busy bustling about making them tomato sandwiches for lunch with fresh-from-the-garden tomatoes and brewing up iced mint tea. Then with my blue checkered apron tied around my waist, I would go traipsing down the hill, laden with tomato sandwiches and mint tea and would serve it to the white-haired ones while they dangled their tired old feet in the water.

Then we would invite children over to play in the creek, they would sail little sailboats in the water and splash about catching minnows with little nets while the residents watched in delight. The creek would ring with laughter from the children and smiles would wreath the beautiful lined old faces of the saints.

Who wants to put their name in to be a resident at Creekside Manor? (Must love having prune feet from over exposure to creek water.)

This afternoon I went to the hospital (not my hospital) to visit my co-worker and her husband. As I was walking down the hall, I saw a nurse who looked oh-so-familiar. It was Tracy! One of my very favorite classmates from nursing school, I hadn’t seen her in 8 or so years. It was so neat to briefly connect with her, we hurriedly made plans for a lunch date in the near future. I call those moments, “God moments.” I am convinced that God orchestrates them because He knows how much we humans love those little happenstance moments.

Tomorrow starts another work week. And do you know what? I am enthused about it. I am ready to go to the PACU and wake people up from their propofol induced slumbers and welcome them to the world of post-surgical pain - which I will quickly soothe with a nice, friendly dose of fentanyl.

Wishing you all a lovely week filled with at least one cortisol reducing session at your local creek.

But remember, in order for your cortisol to be properly lowered, you must sit there, feet in the water, until you have very wrinkly prune feet. Just trust me on this one.

It is official! Airline tickets to Spain have been purchased. Wowee! It has put a spring in my step. WE ARE GOING! I have been super skeptical because there was no talk of buying tickets, so I thought, “Is this really gonna happen?” But, it IS HAPPENING!

One of the girls I am going with, put this on our Camino chat after the tickets had been bought - “Why does going on a trip make me feel as giddy as an engaged girl? Can’t stop grinning!” Same! I get it 1000%! When I have a trip in the planning stages, it makes me so happy. Having a trip in the horizon is really a source of income. Did you know that? It is! Because it inspires one to work extra shifts and save money. So go plan you a trip!

I decided it was high time I started on my Camino fitness plan. So, I got up yesterday morning, put 12 pounds in my backpack and trundled out to walk in preparation for the daily 10 to 12 miles we will be walking every day.

It was a steamy Kentucky morning, the first day of July. Actually, when I first went out, I thought, “Oh wow! It is nice and cool out here!” There was fog rising off the field below my house and the stillness and newness of morning made the world feel like a magical place.

With great vim and vigor, I stepped out onto the gravel road that leads down to the creek below my house. I felt great, adventurous, and like I was really starting out on a great journey. It does really make a difference with a backpack with hip straps. Your hips carry most of the weight instead of your back. Stetson (my dog) ran ahead of me, tail wagging wildly, this was the best day of his life so far! But then, EVERY day is the best day, according to him.

By the time I go to mile 2, my inspiration was flagging. The pack now felt like 50 pounds instead of 12. Yikes. I told my friend Gayenelle about how I was feeling, and she said it will be like the Oregon Trail when the pioneers would throw things out of their wagons when the load got too heavy. I immediately envisioned myself taking the armoire out of my backpack and tossing it beside the trail over there in Spain.

On my way to work yesterday morning, I stopped at the DG, (Dollar General) and bought a notebook. Because when you are doing serious planning for anything, the first step is to get a notebook.

On the first page, in big letters, I wrote, THE CAMINO. There. Now I feel like the planning is officially underway.

We are planning to walk the Litoral Way, starting in Porto. We will walk along the coast, beside the beautiful Atlantic Ocean. It is approximately 170 miles to Santiago de Compostela, our final destination. Santiago de Compostela is world famous as the traditional burial site of the apostle James. Most of the trail is boardwalks, beaches and paved walkways.

We will spend our nights at albergues, which are hostels exclusively for pilgrims walking the Camino. I am super enthused about this part of the trip because I think it will be very entertaining to be in a dorm type room with multiple other travelers. This is what Sean of the South says about albergues -

“We have slept in bunkrooms for the past several nights. We have listened to much snoring, much nose blowing, much belching, and many lower-intestinal expulsory events.”

Doesn’t that sound positively entertaining? =)

I have many Camino related things in my Amazon cart today. But when the total is in the 3-digit range instead of my normal 2-digit range, I have a problem with hitting the “proceed to checkout” button. But here again, really, it is a source of income because I picked up a night shift tonight. So, see it is making me work more, thus bringing in more money. Trips really DO generate income!

Buen Camino!

Have you ever driven to Kansas from Kentucky without cruise control? I am here to tell you that it is not an enjoyable experience. Your leg will feel like a dead piece of lead cause there is no rest for it. The left leg sits over there feeling all happy and slug-like and enjoys the ride while ole righty slaves away and does all the work.

So that has been my life for the last several years. No cruise. Because someone (I will not mention names here) hit a curb and messed up the sensor that makes the cruise work. It costs an arm and a leg to get it fixed. So, I just moan and groan about it to all my friends. If you would ask my friends to tell you two things about me, they would say, “Well, her car doesn’t have cruise, and New York City makes the best avocado toast in the world, and no other avocado toast will ever compare to it.” (They have been regaled with the wonders of that avocado toast for almost 3 years now. Bless.)

Last week I went to Kansas. Before I went, I sheepishly asked my parents if I could borrow their Rav4 BECAUSE IT HAS CRUISE! Mother said that would be fine. Seriously, I have the best mom and dad on the entire planet. I went over to get the said Rav4 and dad was out washing it, he was all sweaty cause it was very hot that day and I told him that he didn’t have to wash it; but that’s how dads are. At least that’s how mine is. It made me feel small and unworthy of such faithful love.

Anyways, I digress. I started out on the 600-mile trek to Kansas. All the way across the wide Missouri. AND I HAD CRUISE! I set it on too speedy of a speed and sailed by my fellow road warriors and a time or two I yelled as I sped by them, “I HAVE CRUISE! I AM COOL, DO YOU HAVE CRUISE, YOU PEASANT?” Oh, it was a tremendous feeling to glide along over that long ribbon of highway with cruise. Ole righty, the leg, was so thankful; he just lounged in slug-like luxury and ease all the way to Kansas.

I drove through the Flint Hills which were so green and beautiful, the sky and the green went on forever; I love that wild free feeling of the wide-open spaces in Kansas. I think Kansas gets a bad rap and I don’t know why. It is a beautiful state with so many wonderful, amazing people. My only beef with Kansas is that the restaurants do not know how to make good sweet tea. Sweet tea in a restaurant is a foreign thing. So aside from this terrible glaring fault, Kansas is a wonderful place. If you don’t believe me, just come with me to Moundridge. I will introduce you to all my friends, and I will take you up to Coronado Heights where the wind blows free and you can see forever and the friendship is real. I guarantee that at the end of the day, you will be a Kansas convert.

I would take you to the fabric shop where the dearest lady opened it especially for me on a Saturday afternoon, AND she brought me a jar of fresh dill pickles. Oh, that warmed the cockles of my heart. (I took them to work today with the intent to share with my coworkers, but they were so good that I decided NOT to share.)

We would go to my aunt and uncles house where love is real. Where I hear them laughing together in the mornings, I see them look at each other and smile with real true affection after 60 some years of marriage. She rubs his left foot in the morning because he says, “there is a tight band around my foot and when you rub my toes it feels better.” They tell me interesting stories of bygone days, about my mom, about characters in the community. I love it there! Their house is one of my favorite places in the world.

The church I attend in Kansas is the one that my grandparents attended, my great grandparents, my mom and dad were baptized there. I always tell my mom that I want to be buried in that cemetery because I want to be out there with all of them, and with the great big trees gently waving in the wind over my grave.

I would take you with me for my Sunday lunch plans to be with more of my dearly beloved people. Where we would eat fresh cucumbers, garden green beans, watermelon, ham and poor man’s steak, fried potatoes and SWEET TEA!! Laughter and conversation flowed all around that table, a vibrant blonde-haired girl entertained us with her stories.

We would go to school in the evening and sing off the projector and the dearest 84-year-old lady would stand beside you and sing with enthusiasm and joy, and you would determine in your heart that when you are 84 you want to be just like her.

And then, after a day spent with the dearest friends ever, you would be firmly convinced that Kansas really is a cool place. We would sit in the shade at an outside table of a coffee shop while the wind mussed our hair and would drink very questionable coffee drinks - how about orange juice with club soda and EXPRESSO? It was weird. But the laughs that accompanied it made up for the weirdness of the drink. In the evening we would go out in the country and take a walk down a sand road beneath a beautiful golden moon, while the night gently wrapped itself all around us and the conversation flowed on and on. And the laughter never ran out.

The best things about life are moments like I had in that beautiful wind-blown week. The ones that grab your soul and infuse intense bits of joy into your heart. Sometimes I wish I could stop time and hold those moments - suspend them in the air and press them into my heart so that I could feel them forever.

Ah Kansas, thank you for reminding me how much I love you.

I was a regular nurse today. Back on my old floor. When I woke up in the dark thirty this morning, I texted the house supervisor at the hospital and asked her if they still needed me today? She replied that of course they did. I admit I was a tad disappointed cause I really wasn’t super enthused about working. But…. tonight, when I was walking out to my car, I thought, “I am so glad I got to work today!”

I had a sweetly confused elderly man. He was the unfortunate recipient of hospital induced psychosis. That is a real thing, I have seen it so many times. Several days prior he had pulled his foley catheter out with the balloon still inflated… all I can say to that is ouch, ouch, ouch.

So, Mr. Confused was in restraints to keep him from doing it again. When I first went into see him, I asked him all the questions that we normally ask to assess his orientation. Do you know where you are? He confidently answered, “Paris, Tennessee!” I hated to tell him he was wrong; he was so sure of it! I went on, “What month is it?” Hmmmmm that was a tough one. He thought for a while, “December? January?” Then he said, “January, February, March, April, MAY!” Then he told me to tuck the blanket under his foot because he didn’t want it to blow away. I complied with his request cause I didn’t want to be chasing a blanket blowing down the hall!

My other patient was the sweetest lady who came in yesterday for stroke-like symptoms. A CT had confirmed the stroke, all of her symptoms had since resolved, and she was back to her baseline. More tests had been ordered, an MRI, an ultrasound of her carotid arteries, a renal ultrasound, and an echo of her heart. But… here is the frustrating thing - today was a holiday and so none of these tests were being done. The daughter was so frustrated, and I could see why. I would have been frustrated as well. I talked to the doctor, and he said that he really couldn’t justify ordering the tests STAT, which would mean that the on-call people would have to come in and do the tests, because it would cost so much more, and the patient technically was stable.

Next patient went for a heart cath. He was soon back with unhappy news. He would have to be transferred to another hospital for open heart surgery. He woke up from the procedure feeling very nauseous. Then he needed to go to the bathroom and since he had to lay flat for 2 hours after the cath procedure, we had to put him on a bedpan. I gave him IV anti-nausea medicine. I don’t think it helped a whole lot. He felt so bad. After an hour or so, after he had returned from the cath lab, I saw a lady standing outside his room, she said that she was the son’s girlfriend and that they had been waiting in the waiting room for 2 hours. Ohhhhh no. I did not know there was any family with this man, they hadn’t been there before he went to the cath lab. I told her to tell the son to come to the room. The son soon appeared and was hot under the collar. Said they had been waiting for 2 hours, the doctor never came out to talk to them, and this was unacceptable. He was exactly right. It WAS unacceptable. I messaged the doctor who had already left the building, but he said he would come back and talk to them. I don’t know what happened, were they not in the waiting room? Did the doctor forget? Anyways after much apologizing on my part, (I SHOULD have checked in the waiting room), the son calmed down.

I went back to see Mr. Confused and I gave him all the little tests again. “Do you know where you are?” He confidently replied, “I am in a restaurant eating lunch!” I said, “do you know what month it is?” He again recited the months until he got to May. I said, “Who is the president?” He grinned and said, “Brother Trump.” I said, “Do you like his hair?” Well, he said it was okay but that he did have “kinda some long eyes,” but he went on to say, “With all he goes through it is understandable.” I said, “Well, I don’t know what else I should ask you,” and he promptly said, “You could ask me what day Santa Claus comes!” So, I did and he triumphantly said, “December 25!”

Back to Mr. Nauseated Post Heart Cath. He is still feeling puny. I was in his room so much today, had to check his cath site frequently, bringing the bedpan, drawing blood - which to my utter horror - the blood I drew and sent down to the lab via the tube system - WELL IT GOT LOST IN THE GREAT VAST LABYRINTH OF THE TUBE SYSTEM. I told my co-workers that this was just great - they are all unhappy about the being forgotten in the waiting room incident, now the blood gets lost, I said they are gonna think this is a Dollar General hospital. (I really was wondering at this point if maybe it was…..) I sallied back into the room and said with quiet dignity that I needed to draw some more blood, and thankfully no questions were asked. This time I walked those precious tubes down to the lab on my own two feet, my trust in that fickle tube system was destroyed.

Back to Mr. Confused’s room. He pointed at the ceiling and said, “Look! There’s a pole cat up there!” He said there was no need to worry though because it didn’t look like it meant us any harm. Pretty soon he pointed again and said, “There is a pole cat AND a coon up there!” He also had his blanket all wadded up and said, “There is molasses everywhere.” (Narrator: there were no molasses in that entire hospital.) His supper tray had arrived, and I asked if he would eat something? He shook his head and said in a low tone, “I have tobacco in my mouth, I can’t eat.” Well, he no more had tobacco in his mouth than there was a pole cat on the ceiling. I cut his peanut butter and jelly sandwich in half and told him to eat it. If looks could kill, I would have perished on the spot from his deadly glare. But he took the sandwich and took a tiny nibble. I left the room and came back in about 10 minutes and the sandwich was gone. With great delight and an animated happy dance, I said, “You ate it!” He grinned and said, “Yes I did!” Then I noticed that the blanket was all wadded up again and I poked around in the wad and there was the sandwich. Haha, I laughed out loud and he looked extremely pleased with himself.

There was another man on the floor who hollered nearly all day long, “help, help HELP ME” He wanted someone to go out to buy toys for the children. He thew green beans on the floor and his nurse said, “Honey are you throwing green beans at me?” No, he said he didn’t, then added, “Well, maybe I did, just a few.”

Now Mr. Heart Cath has a bed in a neighboring hospital to be evaluated for open heart surgery. I went to give him the news, and then I called the son who had been so upset earlier. Son was now fine and thanked me for calling. I called report to the accepting hospital. I finally got the patient to eat some jello and drink some orange juice. And he said he would like some oatmeal for supper. I called the kitchen to put that order in, and a girl took the order. His supper tray came…. no oatmeal. I was beginning to feel like this genuinely was the Dollar General hospital. Maybe even Five Below at this point. I asked my coworkers if anyone had an oatmeal packet, yes someone did. I made the oatmeal and took it to the patient in a little Tupperware bowl I found in the breakroom. (Total Dollar General vibes again.)

I was in another patient’s room when I saw Dakota, the charge nurse standing in the hall with a paper that I knew was an admission for me. I pretended like I didn’t see him and gave my patient my undivided attention. Dakota jiggled the paper, he did a little dance, I still feigned ignorance. Finally, I would have had to be genuinely deaf and blind to not notice, so I gave in to the inevitable. It was 1800! Too late for an admission in my books.

The ambulance arrived to pick up Mr. Heart Cath and take him to the hospital where he would be evaluated for surgery. I went to tell him bye, he gave me a whiskery kiss on the cheek and said, “Thank you for all your hard work today.” My heart felt all soft and smooshy. That was truly better than any Daisy award.

I went to tell Mr. Confused Man bye. I said, “Well, I am leaving, are you gonna miss me?” He said, “Nah.” I shrieked with laughter and he grinned and said, “Yeah, you’ve been a good one.” Then he said he would give me some syrup to take home. I guess it was the molasses that he had been working with earlier.

On my way home, I thought how glad I was that I got to work today. I like my recovery room life, but sometimes I really miss working on my old floor. People are SO interesting!

Sometimes I think that part of the best part of a trip is the planning. The thinking about it every day. Of waking up in the morning and thinking, “Only 4 more months til the adventure.” Of looking at your empty backpack and then perusing Amazon to shop for the things you need for the journey.

This last weekend I went to Arkansas to meet the girls that I am hiking the Camino de Santiago with. It was such a fun weekend. The girls are so much fun, and I am super enthused about going to Spain with them.

On Saturday we loaded up our packs, stopped at Subway for sandwiches, and headed out to a beautiful lake and hiked around it. I think it was my first time to hike with an actual hiking backpack. I kept saying things like, “This hip strap really makes a difference,” because it really does, when the weight is carried on your hips instead of your shoulders, it really is easier to carry. I also felt like this was real doable, to carry a pack and hike the Camino. Then I had to keep reminding myself that all I had in my pack was a 6 inch Italian herbs and cheese BMT from Subway, and 2 bottles of Gatorade. But I still felt like the Camino was going to be a breeze.

Ahhh…. the optimism of the beginning stages of a journey.

Anyways, the hike was gorgeous. We walked by beautiful high cliff-type rocks, wound around through the green, green, green trees, inhaled the perfect forest air, and let the breeze tease our hair into disarray. We sat on a high rock overlooking the lake and ate our lunch, watching the geese on the lake below. We talked about various and sundry things, like - would there be animals in heaven? And wouldn’t it be fun to plan a singles rally that was centered around Humanitarian work?

We got up and continued our trek around the lake. We had stopped for lunch before we had even gone a mile and I was thinking that I was about done for the day. (Hello! The Camino will be 10 to 12 miles a day, and here I was thinking I was about done after 1 mile. Sigh. See, the optimism of planning the journey!)

We walked by people who were climbing up the sheer rock walls, putting great faith in their person below who was anchoring the rope. In light of that, the Camino seemed like a breeze!

I got my second wind at mile 4 or 5 and felt like I could probably walk forever. But then all of a sudden, we were back at the vehicle, and I was not sorry about that.

In the evening the girls came over to my brother and sister-in-law’s house, and we ate cornbread and gravy around the fire. It was so yummy! The wind was blowing like crazy, so we all had to sit on the same side of the fire. Conversation and laughter flowed easily as the sun slipped down to the other side of the earth.

I jumped on the trampoline with my 9-year-old niece. She says NO ONE WILL JUMP WITH HER. Not her mom, not her dad, nor her siblings. She then told me in a conspiratorial tone, “Now do you see why I am so desperate? I laughed out loud and told her that yes, I could understand why she was so desperate for me to jump with her. Have you jumped on a trampoline lately? It is not for the faint of heart. The niece can jump nonstop forever, it looks like. I was stopping frequently, huffing and puffing and with my heart rate in the 100’s. She would say in disbelief, “You have to rest AGAIN?” I tried valiantly to engage her in entertaining conversations so that we could just lay on the trampoline instead of jumping all the time, but she did not fall for my tactics. So, then we resumed jumping, holding hands and singing, “London Bridge is falling down, falling down…”

We also did a fair amount of swinging on the swings. When I was a kid, we had a swing that my cousin and I would go back and forth on and say, “Cracklin virgie, cracklin virgie.” Don’t ask, because I don’t know where that came from. It is one of those senseless things from childhood that you never forget. So, I introduced it to the niece, and we said it as we would swing side to side. Something about swinging just makes you feel young and carefree again. Pointing your legs way up to the sky and feeling like you just maybe could touch that tree branch waaaaay up there. It was an amazing feeling. Next time you are by a swing set, jump on and see if you can touch the sky.

It was such a fun weekend! Family time, girl time, and I really think that niece time was the best of all. If you are driving by Arkansas, please stop and go jump with that girl! You would make her day.

Now I am back home, and have been enthusiastically online shopping, looking for things to fill my backpack with. After all, I suppose I need more than a sub sandwich and 2 Gatorades in there if I am going to wander about in Spain.

Journeys are three times experienced. When dreamed of, when lived, and when remembered.

Everyone needs a dream in their pocket. It gives a quiet infusion of joy to the everyday grind.

Let God

“let God have you, and let God love you - and

don’t be surprised if your heart begins to hear music you’ve never heard

and your feet learn to dance as never before.”

_-Max Lucado

I am letting God love me. And do you know what? It is the most beautiful thing I have ever experienced in my entire life.

God colors my world with the most beautiful hues. He makes my heart like Eden. Every day a joyful adventure with Him.

For so much of my life, I tried to call the shots. I blazed the path and then was frustrated at God for not coloring my world with his blessings. Life took me on a circuitous journey, through some very ugly briar patches where I sat and pretended I was happy.

One day, I sat on the pond bank with my black, sinful heart. I told God I would do anything he asked of me. Even if I didn’t want to do it. (Like Saul, on the Damascus Road.) God poured out his forgiveness. I was humbled. Pure, beautiful quietness covered my soul. “Neither do I condemn thee, go and sin no more.”

Every day with God is an adventure! I love having God in the driver’s seat. He takes the scenic routes; he stops at the most amazing hidden, out of the way spots, I sing as we drive along, sometimes at the top of my lungs, sometimes with quiet joy. I cannot figure out why it took me so long to realize that letting God take the wheel is the best thing ever.

That is why I love my slice of life. Because God is at the helm, making all things beautiful.

He has blessed me with friends. Whom I hope I never take for granted.

Friends that tell me to meet them in the Kroger parking lot and go shopping with them. What fun it is to go to the Bargain Bin and dig through bins of Amazon returns and overstock items. On to the mall to get foot massages. Truly that is an amazing thing. If you ever have the opportunity, you must snatch it! Hot rocks, hot towels, and the best foot rub of my life. I was more relaxed than a well-cooked spaghetti noodle. I must have only been al dente though, because I did manage to stagger out of the place on my own two well-massaged feet.

On to Hobby Lobby, Home Goods, and sketchy furniture stores. Then delicious parmesan crusted chicken at the one and only Longhorn Steakhouse. There is truly nothing like girl time. It refreshes the soul.

I went to Mississippi and had Sunday lunch with my auntie. She took me to “Mildred’s.” It was a perfect gem of a restaurant. A little Southern buffet, ran by the most beautiful elderly lady, named Mildred. Mildred has silvery hair, and a bum knee. She looks like the perfect grandma. And she is an amazing cook! Her fried chicken was perfect in every way, along with her lima beans, black-eyed peas, and cornbread. She told me she puts butter and oil in the muffin tins before she pours her cornbread batter in them. For dessert she had made chocolate meringue pie, the meringue was browned and almost a little crunchy, mmmmm it was the bomb.com! Mildred made me realize again how much I love the South. There is just nothing like it.

I went to a funeral of a dear saint from my childhood. Delila had the most beautiful soul. She walked with God her whole life. God poured his serene, gentle spirit all over her life. As we stood by the graveside on that beautiful Mississippi evening, I looked over the crowd, and I felt so blessed that her life had touched mine. The choir sang, “What a day, glorious day that will be,” and it felt like we were so close to that glorious day.

I went to a friend’s house for supper. We had hotdogs roasted over the fire. This was a new one for me, but I liked it - put your hotdog in a flour tortilla instead of a bun. Then put bacon jam and fried cabbage on it and whatever other toppings you choose. I am here to tell you that bacon jam will completely change the trajectory of your life. What could possibly go wrong with savory, sweet, smoky bacon relish? It is amazing. Just trust me on this one.

After we ate our bacon jam infused hot-dog-deliciousness, my friend went inside to make coffee. She put hot water in one of the mugs and gave it to one of the guys. He held the cup reverently, as one holds a steaming pottery mug of what they assume is coffee. My friend called out to him across the fire, “Let me know if it is too strong.” She served the rest of the coffee, and we sat down in our chairs around the fire. He took a tiny sip of the steaming liquid and appeared to enjoy it. We dissolved into helpless laughter, trying desperately to rein it in, but failing miserably. He took several more sips, and by all appearances, he found that steaming water delicious. Alas, our laughing finally gave it away and he figured it out.

There is something deeply satisfying about staring into a flickering fire, watching the occasional sparks fly upward, talking, or not talking at all. The absolute comfort of being with friends who are “of the race who know Joseph.”

The crowning touch of my six days off (that is what I have been writing about) is the amazing table that I found on Facebook Marketplace. I love me some Marketplace. I love the not knowing for sure what sort of situation you will find when you go to pick up your bargain. Today I went to get a kitchen table and chairs. My dad went with me to pick it up. We drove up to the house, and it looked sketchy! I said, “I’m gonna go in and scope this out.” I trotted up the steps and knocked on the door. The house was unkept, the siding dirty and needing a good cleaning, the porch sagging and the front door could have used a good scrubbing, I peered into the cluttered house and saw no signs of life. Finally, a lady in a pale green dressing gown appeared, and said she was Jodi. We chatted for a bit, and she led me through the house to see the table. It was beautiful! Like brand new, Jodi said she had never used it. I felt like I had won the lottery. I also felt sadness for Jodi, it didn’t look like life had been gentle with her, she said she had lost her hair to cancer. Dad and I loaded the table in the pickup and brought it home to my kitchen. It looks very happy and contented in my house. I smiled every time I thought about it today. Nothing like the dopamine rush of a good bargain to end one’s six days off of work.

I am so thankful that God makes my slice of life meaningful, quiet, and oh-so-beautiful.

...and don’t be surprised if your heart begins to hear music you’ve never heard before…

I leaned back in the chair and closed my eyes; the sun felt so restorative, I could feel little bits of energy trickling back into my sleep deprived brain. (I am very sure that I could not survive in Alaska where the sun does not shine for months on end.) The sun is life!

After a while I went inside to get ready for work. I chugged an Alani, my favorite flavor - Hawaiian Shaved Ice, and headed out to the hospital.

If you want a feel-good sort of job, come to the recovery room. Patients are so grateful as they wake up in a pleasant anesthesia fog. They think we are the best things since sliced bread.

One of my patients asked me if I was a Quaker? My coworkers found that very amusing. I asked them if they had ever heard of the game that I used to play with my friends - “Quakers meeting has begun, no more talking, no more laughing, no more chewing bubble gum!” They informed that no, they had never heard of such a game. Too bad for them, we had fun times playing that when I was a kid.

In the afternoon I was feeling a little droopy and decided I needed another shot of caffeine. I went to the hospital pharmacy because they have energy drinks and I felt the need for another one. As I was walking in front of the pharmacy, a car stopped and inside was one of my dear work friends from 15 plus years ago. It was so good to see her, it has been over a year since our paths crossed. It literally felt like a moment that God orchestrated. I have been thinking about her and wanting to reach out to her because her husband passed away about a year ago. We caught up a little bit, and I asked her if she would bring her dogs over some day and walk the creek with me? Yes, she said she would love to do that. Later on in the day she sent me a text and said that her heart had smiled at our meeting, and she was looking forward to our creek walk.

In the afternoon I went over to chat with the girls in outpatient surgery. They were sitting there chatting with guy who cleans the recovery room and the post op area. He told me that he had went to Arby’s before work and got a fish sandwich and it was way better than McDonald’s fish sandwich. As he described it, his face looked almost reverent, he was so besotted with that sandwich. I said, “Did it change your life?” He looked thoughtful and said, “It changed my tastebuds.” I laughed and he grinned, white teeth gleaming in his dark face.

I had a late case, an ectopic pregnancy. She was the sweetest girl; couldn’t wait to eat some Qdoba when she woke up. She loved the warm blankets that I piled on her. When I wheeled her back into her room in post-partum, her husband was waiting with food from Qdoba, and she was a happy camper.

I went back to recovery to finish charting. The circulator, Hannah, was still there finishing up her charting. I love working with Hannah. She is the best communicator in the entire civilized world. She lets me know when they get the patient to the OR, when they are getting close to done, when they are fixing to roll into the recovery room, I love it! As she was walking out of recovery, she paused at the door and said, “Thank you for being wonderful!”

It always amazes me how little things are really big things. Little comments can mean so much. Little chance meetings are so meaningful.

My friend that messaged tonight just because she wanted to make sure I was okay. The coworker that asks if you are okay because you are sitting in the corner by yourself. The friend who says, “let’s wait to get together for coffee until Missy can be there.”

Life is made up of a myriad of small sparkly moments. Little things that send warm circles around your heart because they are so beautiful.

Goodnight, friends! Tomorrow is another chance to see the beautiful.

I know that I quote this every Spring, but I can’t help myself - Daniel Boone once said that “Heaven must be a Kentucky kind of place.” I think that he surely must have stumbled upon Kentucky in the Spring. Rough woodsman that he was, clad in buckskin, and weary from his long tramp through relentless forests and underbrush, I can only imagine the pure wonder that he felt as he feasted his eyes upon the beauty of Spring in this land.

That is Stetson, connoisseur of pure joy. I took him to the creek this afternoon and I had the best time watching him. He lives each moment to the fullest - splashing wildly through the water, digging vigorously in the creek bank, all the while tail wagging at top speed. He joyously chased a flock of vultures off from their meal of a dead beaver and then contemplated partaking of it also, he looked over to see if I was watching and I yelled, “That’s gross!!” He didn’t share my uncultured opinion of creek delicacies, so I turned around and yelled, “Come on! Let’s go!” Without another thought of beaver pate, he came at top speed, splashing through the water as he ran to me. Watching him always brings me joy. What must it be like to live so in the moment? Like every moment is the best, most joyous moment ever!!

I went to a furniture store. The sales ladies remind me of piranhas. If they detect any interest from you regarding any item, they smell blood and swift as you can say Jack Sprat, they are right at your side. I found a loveseat that I liked but before I sat on it, I looked around furtively to see if they were watching, it seemed safe, so I plopped down for a quick sit. They came to check on me several times and wondered what I was looking for? I didn’t dare tell them cause I knew they would zero in for the kill, and I would be helpless in their clutches.

I popped into Wal-Mart, definitely not my favorite place to be but I did enjoy the mundaneness of circling the aisles with my cart - AND I got a good cart today! No wonky clanking wheels, and it didn’t constantly veer off to the west or the east.

A friend called and said she wished I was in town because then I could come eat lunch with her. I said, “Well I AM in town! And I will head your way El pronto! I am on a little health and wellness journey, so I ordered a very boring grilled chicken salad with vinaigrette, but I said, “Bring some ranch too, in case the vinaigrette isn’t good.” The waitress said, “I gotch you girl!” When she brought my boring salad, the chicken was very anemic looking and the vinaigrette was awful, but that faithful ole ranch dressing perked it right up and it was pretty good.

The friend and I talked about our lives, the things we liked and the things that we felt discouraged about. We shored each other up and I felt taller and stronger. We perused Facebook marketplace and found things we wanted to buy. We laughed. It was so comforting.

I did laundry this afternoon and do you know what? All of my socks came through the washer AND dryer, and each one had a spouse! That basically never happens. Most of my socks are single. But I must commend them, they don’t whine about it, they are all still happy and they enjoy their quiet solitary life on my closet shelf.

I swept the floor, and that blasted line of dirt that will NOT go into the dustpan, was really my only problem of the day. And now really, when that is your biggest problem, it has been a beautiful, mundane day.

I am grateful for dustpan lines of dirt. Grateful for boring days. For quiet joy. Thankful for the way the sun shines on the rippling waters of the creek. For the mourning dove that sends out her mournful call in the evenings.

Forever grateful for the mundane.

“Then my mind went back one stormy night, when just in time I saw the light… if it wasn’t for the lighthouse, where would this ship be?”

I have been thinking about the lighthouses in my life. There are so many of them.

Someone asked me recently if I had ever known of a time when someone talked to a person who was discouraged and it had really changed their mind? I said that many people have reached out to me, and while I don’t know if any specific person changed my way of thinking, it always meant something to me to know that they cared.

To know that someone thought of me, to know that I was on God’s heart and he touched someone and brought my name to their mind and filled their heart with love and concern for me.

That meant something to me.

I will never forget the people who listened to God’s nudge. Who braved the uncomfortable feelings, who overcame the worry of, “what if she thinks I am preaching, what if she won’t talk, what if she turns me away?”

Never ever think that someone would rather you didn’t reach out to them. It always touched me when someone took the time to reach out to me. I always felt the yearning and the love that your soul had for my wayward soul.

I am so thankful to every lighthouse that lit the way for me.

There is a story about a church in Strasburg, Germany, which was totally destroyed during the war. In the rubble they found a statue of Christ, which stood by the altar, nearly unharmed. Only the hands of the statue were missing. A sculptor offered to make new hands for the statue. After considering the matter, the members of the church decided to let the statue stand as it was, without hands. For they said, Christ has no hands but ours to do his work here on earth.

You don’t have to do anything grand. You just have to love.

But then, love really is the grandest, warmest hug. The best thing. And you have it in your heart, all warm and kind.

It is dark tonight. Be a lighthouse, shining out there on the hill.

Yesterday, after a most lovely paddleboarding adventure on the lake, I stopped at McDonalds. I was feeling a tad bit droopy after all that strenuous paddling and wanted a little pick-me-up. So, I wheeled into Micky D’s and ordered a caramel frappe. Man-oh-daisy! It hit the spot and perked me right up. I felt intense sadness when it was gone and since I was by myself, I did numerous loud slurps of the straw to get every last drop.

Now it is Sunday afternoon. I am sitting on the front porch, and it is a most beautiful afternoon. I have been wishing that someone would drop in with a caramel frappe and walk the creek with me.

I have been down to the creek once. It was a most lovely experience. The sun is like warm golden honey, pouring down all liquid and golden-y. The merry little breezes are dancing about, teasing my nicely combed hair into wild disarray. Creek water cold on my feet, sun hot on my back, it feels truly glorious.

Stetson (my dog) leaped into the water, swimming around looking for fish. He has such optimism that he will catch one someday. I get secondhand happiness watching him. You know what I mean? When you watch someone having fun, just being happy and loving life, it makes you happy too. He lives in the moment, and every moment is like “OH WOW THIS IS THE BEST THING EVER!”

Church this morning was so lovely. It felt like home. Inspiring. We sang “Master the Tempest is Raging” with feeling; softly into the chorus and then the glorious, triumphant crescendo, and I felt like I was in the boat with the disciples and Jesus, out on the sea of Galilee, watching the sea become quiet and still. (Do you always think of the picture in “My Bible Friends,” the story about Jesus calming the storm, when you sing that song? I do.)

Little tendrils of thought wove themselves into the corners of my mind as I listened to the sermon; like honeysuckle creeping up on a fence in the Spring. That is how God works in my soul. He brings quiet thoughts, peaceful and still. I am always amazed at how all of life becomes quiet when I am still before God. Beautiful stillness.

One of my most favorite friends, (who is the queen of thrifting) gave me a Life Application Study Bible that she found at the Goodwill. I have been wanting one for a long time and it totally made my week! I have been poring over it and am absolutely loving it.

Well, it looks like no one is going to bring me a caramel frappe. So, like the Little Red Hen, I am going to hop into my Honda and toodle to Micky D’s to get one myself.

This time I shall drink it o-h s-o s-l-o-w-l-y so as to delay the horrible empty cup sadness as long as possible.

“People who wonder if the glass is half empty or half full miss the point. The glass is refillable.” -Simon Sinek

I work in the recovery room at the hospital. The most amazing thing about my job is my schedule. Every other week I get SIX DAYS OFF!

At the beginning of my six days of working, I message my friends on my way to work and tell them, “Well, I am on the way to my incarceration.” Cause that’s what it feels like. Six days of briefly seeing the outside world - just a little glimpse in the morning, and another little peep in the evening. All day long I am locked in the windowless PACU dungeon. (I would say the food in the cafeteria is quite similar to prison food also.)

So tonight, I can taste freedom. Six glorious days brimming with possibilities are stretched out before me.

I do like my job though. Last week one of my friends said, “Wouldn’t it be nice to not ever have to work again?” I immediately said, “Oh no, I would not want to quit my job; I would miss all my people!”

I would for sure miss Lana. Today in PACU, we had a patient whose name was Bonnie. As we were hooking her up to the monitors, (Bonnie was fast asleep, fresh from the operating room,) I started singing, “My Bonnie lies over the ocean, my Bonnie lies over the sea..” Lana looked at me and said, “It isn’t Bonnie, it is body.” I said, “No, it IS BONNIE!” She thought I was crazy and didn’t know what I was talking about, and she promptly Googled it and then said, “Well, it is Scottish, that’s why it is Bonnie.” I laughed and laughed and said, “Lana, I sure hope you haven’t been singing “my BODY lies over the ocean to your grandchildren!”

Then there is Miranda. Yesterday my manager gave her some all-natural energy patches. Miranda put two of them on, one on each wrist. Miranda is usually pretty low-key. But those patches did amazing things to her. I looked up to see her hopping around, pretty much like a bunny. Periodically she would kick her legs way up like she was in a kick-boxing class. It was a great show.

Another thing I would miss about being incarcerated, is the things that patients tell me. Today my patient went to surgery to get a pellet removed from his wrist. (Oh, and another thing I would miss is looking at peoples tattoos before they wake up, lol.) So, pellet guy had been out squirrel hunting and got a pellet shot into his wrist. It was a big ole pellet too, he said they hunt coyotes with them. He was telling me that he likes to make squirrel dumplings, I said, “Do you use canned biscuits or make them from scratch?” Oh, he said he makes them from scratch, his grandma taught him how to do it. (I guess I should have got the recipe, that’s what I could make for the next potluck at church.)

My other patient (who had a little meth in his system) asked me if he could “drive the helicopter,” he said, “I have my CDL.” (Seems reasonable to me.)

As I was pushing a bed down the hall, the patient craned his head around and told me that I looked just like his mom. (I am unsure how to take that.) He had a history of waking up fighting after anesthesia, so I told the anesthesia provider that the patient said I looked like his mom so I said maybe he will wake up nice and easy for me. And whaddya know? He did! The patient went on to tell me that years ago he had been shot in the stomach, he stopped at a gas station, and it was being held up by a gunman, and he jumped in front of some kids to save them and took the bullet.

One of the anesthesia providers was sitting on the counter in PACU and said that one of the doctors told him that he foamed up his hands with hand sanitizer and went into a patient’s room to talk to them before surgery. He walked out of the room and a couple minutes later found himself surrounded by the director and the CFO. They were taking him to be drug tested because the patient said he smelled like alcohol. Drug tests were negative as negative can be. (It was the hand sanitizer that the patient smelled and was convinced he had just been drinking.)

Recently while working on the medical floor, I was going over discharge instructions with a patient. I told him that he needed to weigh every day and keep a record of his weight and take an extra diuretic pill if his weight increased by 2 to 3 pounds in a day. He shook his head and said, “I have one of those new-fangled scales and I can’t figure it out,” he went on to say, “that’s how everything is nowadays, so complicated, and they want you to go over the moon and around Neptune to get to anything.” (I couldn’t agree more sir.)

See, incarceration at the hospital really isn’t too bad. It is really quite entertaining. I could never leave all these people.

But… I am sure enthused about Operation Freedom staring me in the face. I have a long list of things to do; some fun and some NOT SO FUN.

I must clean my house. That is such a boring thing to do, but wowzer, does it not feel amazing to have it all spick and span? I love it! I need to clean out my garage, ugh. Take the load of clothes that are residing in the trunk of my car to the Goodwill. Listen to my book, ‘Speak Like Winston, Stand Like Lincoln.’ (Take notes furiously.)

Go paddleboarding with a friend on Saturday because it is supposed to be SEVENTY-SIX DEGREES! Eat Brazilian food with the family. Put on my weighted vest and slog off for a long walk in preparation to hiking the Camino. Take Stetson (my dog) to the creek and watch him chase the little fish.

Operation Freedom is beautiful!

There is truly nothing like a beach vacay with your girlfriends. Five friends and I converged in Florida on Monday from all parts of the US of A. Ohio, South Carolina, Idaho, Kentucky, and Alabama.

Some of us had never met prior to this meeting in Florida. I was a tad nervous about that, you know, you wonder if you will hit it off, and how will it be?

I think most worry is in vain. Those worries definitely were.

We drug our chairs, towels, snacks and vulnerable selves out to the beach and let the sand, sun, and wind work its magic.

I took 3 books along because I thought I was really going to read. Lol. I read maybe 4 chapters. The conversation going on around me was way more interesting than my book.

Crystal told me that I couldn’t feed the seagulls. Those things are able to spot a stray pringle from a mile away. I just threw out one. ONE. And here they came. And since the pringles weren’t that good anyways - they were loaded baked potato flavor and I thought they were ok until the girls tried them and declared them gross and then I was like, ya know, maybe they aren’t so great.

So, there I was, seated under a cloud of seagulls. And then I looked up and what do you think I saw? Crystal (remember she is the one that said, “Don’t feed the gulls!”) Well, there she is, standing on the beach with a pringle in her outstretched hand, looking like Lady Liberty out in New York harbor, waiting for a seagull to snatch the chip out of her hand. I think the gulls know that eventually the humans will give up and will just throw them the goods because they would not take it from her. But it was an entertaining show while it lasted.

We talked about how lucky we were to be able to take girls trips like these. That our lives are different from most peoples, but we all agreed that God gives more. Everyone agreed that these sorts of trips were amazing gifts, big splashes of happiness into lives that can be a little humdrum sometimes.

Truly, girl time is the one of the best things. There is a quote that says, Friendship is a wildly underrated medication.” And it is! Talking about all manner of things while the Florida sun beats down on you like a golden drug, can chase away many doubts and make you realize that you aren’t such a nutcase after all. (Cause basically we all worry about the same things.)

We went paddleboarding through the mangroves one day. And did you know that mangroves are the only tree that give birth to seedlings that are already alive and growing? That is what Eric, our guide, told us. Eric was an amazing person. He remembered all our names. There were about 12 in our group, on paddleboards and kayaks. He would paddle by and say, “Missy, how are you doing?” I asked him how he remembered all those names and he said that he makes an association right away when he meets someone. He made everyone feel like he was genuinely interested in them. I really liked Eric. Until he made us paddle against wind, in waves and over boisterous wake from passing boats, and I really almost felt like he was going to take us all the way to Cuba. There were 3 of us that got behind and we paddled for our lives and it didn’t feel like we were even moving. But it felt amazing to be out there on the ocean, on a paddleboard, with friends, the wind in our faces, (would have been better if the wind would have been on our backsides, but oh well) it was an amazing feeling. We saw a dolphin, Eric said he was a bachelor dolphin, and he was hunting a tarpon. He would go all around and under our boards and it was so cool to watch him. And he finally caught the fish and then he did a bit of cat and mouse with it and played with it for a while. We had the best time following him around and trying to see where he would surface next.

We went out to the beach to watch the sunset in the evenings. There is nothing like a beautiful sunset over the ocean. One of my favorite things in all the world is a good sun path, or moon path, on the water. A golden sun path just seems like it could take you to a beautiful magical fairy land if you could walk on it.

One evening as we were driving home from supper, singing, (very loudly) “Country roads take me home to the place I belong, West VirginAAAAAAAAA,” there was a gorgeous golden full moon hanging low in the sky. Did you know you can see a rabbit in the moon? I didn’t, but you really can. See, these are the kinds of neat things you learn on girl trips. lol!

We went to a little sushi place for lunch on Friday. They opened at 11AM, and it was after 11 already but no, no, we couldn’t order anything because the sushi chef wasn’t there yet. They said he was coming from off the island and you know how traffic is, (we DID know about traffic, it was horrendous) and so they weren’t sure when he would be there. We finally ordered non sushi items, acai bowls, and quesadillas because we were tired of waiting on Mr. Sushi Chef. We sat there and shared quesadillas that had the most glorious, amazing long strings of golden cheese, and listened to the employee’s chatter. Four of their chairs had disappeared and it was great cause for consternation, WHERE WERE THOSE CHAIRS??? And then, whaddya know?! Mr. Sushi Chef rolled in at 11:40! I went to order a California roll; he seemed unsure if he could delve into that right upon arrival, but he did agree to make it. Then he said he was missing a large metal strainer. What was going on with all these missing items? There was much searching for the strainer, but to my knowledge it was never found. The California roll truly was amazing, we shared that as well and declared it quite delicious.

Basically, everything in Florida is better. I got a California roll when I got back into Murray, and it did not remotely compare with the Florida one. I really think what made it better was the company. Being surrounded by friends makes everything more fun, and just mo bettah.

I was so very melancholy on Saturday when we all said goodbye. It was the bestest week. I loved every single minute. When we were all standing out in front of our house and hugging goodbye, I felt so sad. It had been such a perfect week, we all got along, everyone was so chill, it just felt like our hearts were all bound together just like the intertwined mangrove trees that we had paddleboarded through the day before.

I think girl time is one of the best things in the world.

“Friends are the people who make you smile brighter, laugh louder, and live better.”