Not Everything is about me!

Someone puts a post on Facebook pointing out that some people will lie–I immediately wonder what lie have I told now?…..knowing good and well I don’t lie; not deliberately anyway.

A post is shared on social media about fake friends and true friends; I’m estranged from a friend–immediately she/he is talking about me.

A scripture is shared about right and wrong-love and hate-anything….the preacher is making digs at me!!!

God only knows what moved that particular person to post/write or otherwise share what they shared. They may have been thinking of someone in their past. It may very well have spoken to THEM in their time of need.

So why do we automatically assume that everything anyone with whom we are out of sorts with is posting stuff about us.

Many years ago a dear friend of mine taught me a very important lesson. We had gone to a craft show together; she, my hubby and I. We had a wonderful morning but around noon a heavy thunderstorm blew up, it thundered and lightened, the wind blew and the rain came down hard and fast. Canopies were blown around, people’s ware were blown over, wet, damaged and otherwise in disarray. All my woodwork got wet. All my friend’s tee-shirts were wet. We gathered it all up, stuffed it in the van and drove home to dry it all out.

On the ride home I asked this question: You know, I haven’t been attending church like I should. You think God is punishing me because of that?

My friend looked at me and with all the love she felt for me she said: Klara, God would not punish all those people just to punish you for not going to church regularly. You are not that important!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I always think of that when I’m temped to take it personally. Yes, I do look for the message God is sending me, but I don’t think I’m so important that God would wet a whole craft show just to get to me. So when you read that post on social media, look for the lesson, apply it if it’s applicable. Please don’t see it as being a jab at you! Not everything is about YOU.

The Deed is Done

Our pastor and his family are gone. Those who wanted him gone are happy as larks. Those who didn’t are moving forward with a better understanding of what church people are capable of doing.
I often wonder if I’m a hypocrite or if I’m doing what God would have me do by staying. I don’t hate those who had aught against the pastor. I can’t find it in my heart to truly hate anyone. I want the best for them. I want God’s love and blessings in their life. I am aware of who and what most of the people are: I accept them as who they are. I don’t put my trust in people. My trust is in the Lord.

I feel that one-possibly more–are out to get me. Too many factors/comments/questions point in that direction. The Bible says that no weapon formed against me shall prosper. I claim that. So, just as with my pastor and his family, should ‘they’ whom ever ‘they’ are succeed in removing me from the physical church I attend; they will never remove me from the Lamb’s Book of Life. They will never dampen my spirit. I will continue to serve my God where ever I may be planted.

The secretary is told to be sue and check the bank statements to be sure no checks were made to cash. A bag of Fritos was taken; a bag intended to feed the people who bought chilli plates Sunday. The statement was made: It was JUST a bag of chips. A bag of chips the church paid for, a bag of chips intended for a Sunday fund raiser meal, a bag of chips which caused us to run out sooner than we would have. But it’s just a bag of chips.

Maybe a ugly reaction was expected. Nope. Wasn’t one. I was curious about where it went. More so since there were 2 dollars in a bowl in the kitchen-the amount of the bag of chips. No, that was for yard sale stuff.

I can’t help what others think or do or say. That is between them and God. I am only responsible for me. I have a hard enough keeping me where I need to be with God. I’m working hard on only saying what I would be able to say face to face with the person I am speaking about. I don’t always accomplish this; but I work on it.

Sick, just sick

Lord, I didn’t know it could be this way. Lord, I didn’t know people could be so awful, so vindictive, so hateful.
Lord, I pray for us, as a family, I pray for our church, I pray for my sister and her daughters.
When people don’t get their way they can turn into 2 year olds throwing a tantrum.
*shakes my head*
*wipes my tears*
Old men in the church grab big breasted women’s boobs, that’s ok.
But the preacher tells a couple stories in his sermon and that is a reason to impeach.
Deacons gossip and spread it all through the church-that’s ok.
The preacher shares a a prayer concern, and it’s reason to impeach.
Leaders speak of certain people in the church with venom in their voices-that’s ok.
Don’t let the pastor speak in any way that sounds as though he is mocking, it’s reason to impeach.
Church staff does a half-*## job at their given duties, that’s ok.
But let the preacher rest his aching legs by sitting on the banister while he preaches and he has to go.
Young teens wear minimum clothing to Sunday worship, that’s ok…
but the preacher doesn’t wear a suit and that’s a reason to impeach!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Double Standards..
No walk with the Lord

Persistence & Prayer

In the beginning of this year long IV run, due to insurance or the lack of sufficient insurance-I was told that it would be 30.00 a day to receive my medication and supplies at home/whereas insurance would cover supplies as an outpatient at the local hospital. So, I began driving to town daily, spending 30 minutes or more being checked in and awaiting the IV nurse & medication, then the hour for the drug to run. I sometimes was shivering by the time the hour was up-especially in ER, in spite of having 3 blankets and a hoodie on with the hood over my head.
After about a week, I called infusion partners again, talked to them, and after consulting with her manager the lady said 15.00 day would be the best they could do. I asked that they let me try the hospital route and think on it.
Well come to find out, yes insurance will pay, but I have 20% balance to cover. The hospital charges from 500-over 700 a day to administer the meds. I didn’t think the 20% I had left to pay was manageable to me over the long haul, not to mention the inconvenience, the cold, the germs and the wear on tear on me and my vehicle.
So yesterday, I called IV infusion and as we discussed exactly what I needed she came up with a quote that was less than 7 a day–delivered the same day if needed. Oh yes ma’am! Elated I called the hospital, praising God for answered prayers; yet I didn’t feel that I could fully rejoice until I heard news from our pastor who was under going some kidney function tests. Being an insulin dependent diabetic, his kidney function was troubling the doctor. He had various test run and was to hear from them last Friday-but didn’t even though the results were on the doctor’s desk. I text him to find out and after about an hour or so he sent out a mass text saying that his numbers were better -a change of meds and other diet changes were in order and then I could truly rejoice.
Thank you, God-as always you are on time, on point and so good to us all. I often fail to rest in that truth.

ER outpatient visits

The first weekend of my daily IV’s was spent with 2 of the sweetest RN’s one could imagine. Both have been through the FM, so remember me and my bread, both are friendly and go out of their way to help. I do worry about exposure to whatever might be in the ER from other patients but have made me up a little bag with a mask, some hand sanitizer, and after this weekend a pullover ski cap for my head. More on that later-

The weekend of our trip we went to the Gulf Coast, spending our 3 nights at the Hollywood because Terry had 3 consecutive free nights that did not exclude weekends. We did our Outlet mall shopping, rode up to the tractor place to order a part, med Diane at Sharkhead’s and then ate dinner at Shaggy’s. Saturday we plundered around in Gulfport, meeting up with Diane at the Ocean Adventure place which, before Katrina, was on the water at Gulfport and called Marine life. I spent a lot of time resting and sleeping.

The 2nd weekend again was spent with my 2 nice RN’s, one whose name is Stacy and the other one I’ve not learned her name.

The 3rd weekend could be classified in way the weekend from hell. Sheila is a sharp, hurry up get’er’done type with no compassion whatsoever. If I have a stitch left in my arm it will surprise me. Terry, I’ve known for years and she is somewhat better-but Saturday and Sunday both were spent freezing  my tail off even with 2 blankets and my hoodie pulled over my head. On Sunday I had to unplug my IV and go tell them I was done because they were laughing and carrying on so they couldn’t hear the machine beeping.

Today, Labor Day I be-bopped down there and go through the front entrance only to find the business office closed. I head on down to the ER, to find a newbie at registration. When I give her my name and why I’m there she is totally confused, stating she doesn’t have a clue what to do. She consults her manual while I make a bathroom run, then calls the regular girl and talks with her a while. She pecks around on the computer, then calls one of the RN’s-Linda ( a lovely, precious lady) and then Terry comes around and finally, after 30 minutes the 3 of them get me checked in. My little CNA in the ER, LD, brought me 3 warm blankets and I napped the whole time my drip was running. One thing I can say is that once I get checked in it isn’t long before they have me hooked up and running.

The IV saga

Well the PIC line was in place on August 8 and I had my first run of meds. Other than soreness and some pain, all was well. I did my FM as usual on Thursday, taking Ana with me to help unload and load back up. I made contact with my nurse concerning the regular admin of meds. Due to my insurance or lack there-of, I would have to go to the hospital daily to take my hour of medication. I fought against this, called the infusion people, argued over how 3.00 a day for supplies, which I paid in ’17, had gone to 30.00 a day all to no avail. I did pay the 30.00 a day for meds to cover me for the 16,17 & 18 of August since we had a trip planned.
I made my first trip to Walthall General for meds on August 10, at 8AM. After 30 minutes of checking in, I was directed to the Out Patient area where I rang a bell a waited for someone to let me in. A rather short, large lady was my CNA. Her name was Mary & I knew her from back in the nursery day. Stephanie was my RN. I didn’t know her well, but her sister had been the bus driver for the girls all the school lives. Stephanie is good at what she does, a bit sharp in speech, but she has a good heart. And so we settled into a routine-during the week I went into out-patient; on weekends I went through the ER, but still as out-patient.
Other than sometimes waiting an extra long time to be checked in, the 5 days of the week have gone smoothly. The ladies are getting used to seeing me, they know what to do, they know about what time I’m coming–we have moved my time to around 1-2 PM for my convenience–and they have as much ready for me as possible.
I take a book a read and enjoy that past time I don’t usually get to indulge in or simply take a nap. Other than losing 2 1/2 to 3 hours a daily from leaving home to returning-it isn’t so bad.

Ain’t life grand

Life is really grand, because it certainly isn’t boring.
Rita, I’m not quite knee deep in canning, as gardens have slowed down here, thankfully. We get a bit of okra and some jelly stuff here and there, but otherwise I’m having more time to play with oils and salves.

I saw my pulmonary doc yesterday for a regular checkup–Not good news. I have some new developments of my mycrobacteria, plus some pneumonia spots. Therefore, I go tomorrow for insertion of another pic line and another year of IV antibiotics.

I saw my doc in January–I had to go to the local clinic in March with a flare; I went again in May for the same thing. I’ve known I needed to be seen for almost a month now but kept self medicating with herbs and such until I could make it to my already scheduled appointment.

Prayers are that the Myco isn’t resistant to the one antibiotic I can tolerate.
Doc also prescribed saline so I can use Tea Tree Oil in my nebulizer–but my pharmacist says their warehouse is out but she will keep trying to order. I’ll be back in the pharmacy today so I plan to let them know how important getting some of this stuff is.

Have family coming up this weekend for Homecoming at our church. Shandi is being re-evaluated for disability since she is now ‘of age’. We go Saturday evening to a disability doc in Brookhaven at 3–even though her disability isn’t physical that is where we start. We have gone 3 times for her to take her drivers permit test–they have the head phones and the questions are read–she has failed each time. She is so discouraged.

Ana didn’t get into the cosmotology class she wanted–there is a waiting list a mile long-so instead of taking general course and as she put it ‘wasting time & money’, she went to work at a local plant for the time being. I’m very glad she did–it’s what I call manual labor for a woman and I’m sure she will decide right quick this isn’t what she wants with her life.:)–but then again, it is her life and she will be making her own money. Her car is torn up-engine problems; between us and herself, we will get it running as soon as Robby finishes the painting of the church which should be this week.

catch up

Time for an update-

Hmm, December-just ahead of the snow storm we had prior to Christmas-phone rings and it’s son. Mom, we’ve been evicted, can we come up there? They had lived and worked on the yard where he rebuilt trailers for David Hood. David was going out of town to do a job, had hired a convicted felon and son having a record also was not supposed to be with such-so he refused to go.

So up they come; organize the little shed which I had just cleaned out most of my jellies and jams because I was setting them up in the enclosed carport that Ana had occupied most of her life.

The snow came, the electric went off for a couple days, we tried to have the Christmas Bazaar in the Farmer’s Market building, but it was so cold and roads so snowed over there wasn’t much traffic flow. So, we talked with the director, agreed to have it again the following Friday and home we came.

The first hitch came when AnnaD came up-that’s TA’s daughter, with a son under 2 years old and pregnant and the baby daddy gets abusive. So, ok, get a job, Robby and mama will watch the kid and we can deal. We put in lots of applications, but before anyone called her, she was back with the baby daddy…and life went on.

Robby started building me a cabinet to go in the kitchen were we had moved a freezer and small refrig from-Ana’s car needed brakes and he put those on; but noticed some front end and rear end problems. We began to get parts for that, first ones were the wrong ones…send those back and re-order.

TA got a phone call some point in January they were looking for AnnaD to work at a garment plant in town. I suggest that TA offer to work, she did, was hired and all was good. She used Terry’s Saturn to go back and forth, it’s good on gas and their truck isn’t in the best of shape.

Then here comes AnnaD again-TA takes her to where she works,she is hired, Robby babysits the munchkin and all seems well with the world….Robby has my Ana’s car torn down waiting on the parts, Ana now uses the Saturn because her trip is further, TA uses our old truck and I use my car.

January 30th, Robby has a court date..it’s a monitoring type appearance given he and TA both had gotten into some legal trouble in ‘16 and ‘17, thanks to one of TA’s sons and his making meth. Long story short, they both were on probation, Robby and TA, Robby had met all his court dates, TA hadn’t, Robby tried to contact his probation officer concerning his being out of state with no luck; so we think we will go to court, see his probation officer and get all this out of state stuff done.

Wrong! Probation officer had an arrest warrant out on Robby, he was arrested and there I was trying to figure out what to do…couldn’t get hold of his PO.

Ya’ll know we don’t spin our wheels when they deserve to be where they are-but Robby didn’t this time, in my opinion, and I needed him at home. He had a car torn down that we couldn’t even get on a trailer to take anywhere, a cabinet half built and plenty of other things he and his dad were working on. I don’t know if son and father have ever gotten along as well as they are right now…so I went to work.

I called his PO, with the results of a half ass promise to talk with the judge. I emailed the judge’s assistant, and heard back the next week that if the PO would withdraw the warrant they would release him. I went to Louisiana the next Wednesday and spent the day down there talking with the PO in person and waiting. Finally, the PO said he had heard from the judge and yes, we could get Robby out, but it would be Friday. So Friday, TA and went go back to Amite and after a 5 hour wait we have Robby.

We go meet with his PO, who gives him permission to be out of state, they talk about TA’s missed court date, he tells them what to do—she comes back when he comes for his court date and she sees her PO, then takes care of any $$ owed and all will be well.

So, today, 2/14—Robby and TA plan to be married tonight by our pastor. Ana’s front end is finally back together and we hope to get it aligned today. A mechanic friend is helping find what we need to fix Ana’s rear end and Robby can maybe finish up the cabinet so I can share a pic of the finished product.

I’m experimenting with canning soups and cheese and making more gourmet jellies, when I’m not being a chauffeur for someone.

Life is full.

Excitement

Ana has a friend-BJ living with them. Not as a boyfriend, but as a friend who seemed to have problems with dad. Mom helped out with groceries–but BJ is 18 and didn’t seem to want to do much other than ride the roads and sleep. He had only been there maybe a month on a trial basis…maybe longer.
I had noticed, as had Terry that he would be gone at night when we were up/driving by or whatever reason gave us opportunity to see what vehicles were up the hill…but his truck was usually home all day or if I asked about Shandi about him she would say he’s sleeping.
Last Friday I decided I needed to talk to him. I told Ana my need, I also told her that if he didn’t start doing something constructive–school, GED, job, helping clean house and yard he would have to leave. He kept avoiding me.
Finally on Monday evening I saw his folks car up there so up I went.
I told them what I had told Ana–and that I felt he was avoiding me. He said he wasn’t avoiding anyone and began to thrash around on the bed crying, then he got up and walked out of the room. Mom said she understood and they had come to pack him up and take him home. So I said my good’byes, they thanked me for allowing him to try to be an adult and I left.
On Tuesday Shandi said BJ’s dad had come back over later that night and they had talked some more.
Tuesday evening after Terry came in, we saw a law car driving by, followed by two other trucks. We looked and they were heading up to Ana’s. Ana wasn’t home, she was still at school or on her way home and Shandi was with us. We didn’t know BJ or his girlfriend were up there–(his gf isn’t quite 17 yet)
We walk up, are told they are looking for BJ in connection with some thefts, have I seen anything in the house or around the house–he names off a 4 wheeler, lawnmower and big screen tv. I told him that I saw a big screen TV in BJ’s room the past week and was told he got it from a friend.
They asked permission to go in–I walk in and show them BJ’s room and the little dude is laying in there asleep with his GF. One of the lawmen (there were 4) woke him and then questioned him at length, ending in arresting him. His GF told us that BJ and his mom and dad had been at the sheriff’s office several hours trying to clear all this mess up.
Later on I hear that BJ confessed to stealing the 4 wheeler but no one will tell where it is.
The GF said BJ’s dad got the big screen tv the night before, but I don’t know what he did with it.
Kinley, the GF, was taken to Children’s services because she isn’t 17. The deputy who talked with her said she obviously had a rough family life–in fact, Ana took her to Children’s services to try and get temporary custody of her so she could come back up here. We like her, she goes to school and works hard…dad and mom are on drugs. Dad came to CS, but refused a drug test and mom didn’t come. There is a younger brother who is 12, with Chron’s disease. Mom seldom sends him to school. There is an older sister who showed out with CS also, screaming and cussing. Kinley went home with a cousin, but we don’t know how permanent that is.
Last night we went out to eat with some friends who live around the corner from us–we were telling them and Alex said..man we need to come hang with ya’ll. It’s boring at our house, but ya’ll always have excitement. LOL
Anyway, I’m glad BJ is gone since he was up to no good like I thought. I’m glad Ana wasn’t implicated in the stealing, as well as Shandi. Shandi said none of the girls ever went with BJ when he would be gone all night.
On the other hand–I’ve taken another run of antibiotic and last night I shook a hard chill. Today I’ve kept Ibuprofen in me, and am really sore in my lower lung area. I’ll check with the doc if it doesn’t improve. I can’t seem to get totally over this mess this year.

Response to a hurting friend

A friend posted she felt like a failure as a mom…my reply:
I felt like a failure also–then I began to look around and I saw many families with 2 children; both raised in good homes, both raised exactly the same–one stayed on the straight & narrow; the other went down the wrong path. We raise our kids the best we know how. We make mistakes; but so did our own parents. Then each of us reach an age of accountability–with God, with self, with life. That is where the choices often made are the wrong choices. I was one told that: unless I held my child down and forced drugs (or whatever) into them, I didn’t cause it, unless I locked them in a cage and threw away the key I couldn’t control them, and unless I was God (and I’m not) I couldn’t cure their problem–whatever that problem might be. I spent years blaming others for my children’s mistakes & problems. It was never any one else’s fault. It was always choices each of my children made.