Daylight Saving Time - Again?

During his lifetime, Benjamin Franklin made eight voyages across the Atlantic Ocean.  He had a lot of time on his hands.  So, he put his natural curiosity to work and, as a result, he managed to invent quite a few things.  Like bifocals. And a more efficient wood burning stove to provide heat – and the first fire company and fire insurance company, just in case something went wrong, I suppose.  He invented that famous lightning rod, of course.  On his way to starting the postal service, he invented an odometer to measure the routes.  And, in the middle of all that inventing, he found a little time to scatter some seeds of the American Revolution.  Unfortunately, dear old Ben also came up with the idea of daylight saving time during one of his trips to Paris. He wrote and published an essay titled “An Economical Project for Diminishing the Cost of Light” where he proposed to save on the use of candles by rising earlier and making the most of the morning sunlight.  And, as far as I am concerned, that cancels out all the good stuff.  Daylight Saving Time is what my grandmother would refer to as cutting off one end of the blanket and sewing it on the other end to make it longer.

It has been a month since we began Daylight Saving Time again. My body is still in rebellion mode.   I do not like it.  I do not like it at all.  That extra hour of sunlight in the afternoon doesn’t mean anything good to me.  It messes up my life.  By the time it is dark and I want to sit down and read, it is time to go to bed.  When it is time to get up and get ready for work, it is still dark.  My dogs don’t understand it.  They don’t seem to like getting up two hours before the sun, but they do it because I get up and they seem to be of the opinion that I cannot fix breakfast without their supervision.  I whine and complain about Daylight Saving Time until I get that hour back.  I want to be like the Free State of Arizona.  They have the good sense to ignore Daylight Saving Time.  They do not fiddle with the clocks and try to fool themselves into thinking they have more than twenty-four hours in a day. 

The first week of that dreaded DST is always the hardest for me.   I am all out of whack and out of sorts and out of patience.  It is uncommonly difficult.  On my way to work during that appalling first week, God sent me a reminder to count it all joy.  I looked in the mirror on the way to work and guess what I saw. 

This.

Yep.  God sent me a sunrise.  It felt like He was saying, “Enough, already!”   I had to smile.  That’s just like God to care about my bad-tempered, crabby self enough to send me a sure-fire cure. 

The whole earth is filled with awe at your wonders; where morning dawns, where evening fades, you call forth songs of joy.  Psalm 65:8

A Wing and a Prayer

Back in January, I attended the Women’s Conference at our church.  Esther Burroughs was our speaker and Marlesa Greiner was our music leader.  These ladies were simply awe-inspiring.  The weekend absolutely flew by.  

One of the things that Esther talked about was “going out of your way while on your way.”   I started thinking about all the opportunities I had missed just because I wasn’t paying attention.  And I decided that I was going to do a better job of going out of my way while on my way.  I had a long talk with God about that.

The morning after the conference, I left on a trip to Washington, DC.  I just asked God to send the people my way or put me in the right situation to show His love to others.  And then I asked Him to give me sense enough to recognize those people or situations.  And then I asked Him to show me what to do or say.  

The first leg of my flight was from Montgomery to Charlotte, North Carolina.  I couldn’t wait to see who God was going to have in the seat next to me.  Nobody.  There was nobody sitting next to me.  I certainly did not feel a Divine vote of confidence.  We landed in Charlotte and I was still thinking about that empty seat and God’s sense of humor.   

As I turned to get up to leave the plane, I saw a lady sitting on the other side of the plane a couple of rows back.  She didn’t look so good.  So I asked her if she was okay and she said, “Not really.  No.  I need to get off this plane.”  She said it felt really hot.  So, I tugged on her and said, “Get in front of me.”  And I asked everyone getting off the plane to wait for her to go first.  And they waited – while I fanned her with the cardboard safety instructions.  Would I have noticed her if I hadn’t been waiting on God to send me a “job?”  Or if I had met a person sitting next to me and was talking to him/her?  Maybe.   Probably not.  

On the other part of my flight – from Charlotte to Washington, DC – I was sitting by the window.  I waited and waited for someone to sit next to me and I was thinking that I would have an empty seat again.  One of the last people on the plane was a young woman and I KNEW that she would be sitting by me.  I asked her if she was traveling to Washington or somewhere else.  She was on her way to Washington because her sister was having a baby and was actually in labor right then – and had been all day.   The baby was a girl and the first grandchild for the family.   The young woman was from the Dominican Republic and most of her family was still there.  She was worried about her mother not being there for her sister and really wanted to get to the hospital before the baby arrived.  So, I said, “Well, I will just say a prayer right now for your sister, the baby, and that you will get there in time for the baby’s birth.”  And I did.  We kept talking and ended up sharing a bag of M&Ms during the flight.  She told me about her work and how much the rest of her family wants to come to the United States.  When the plane landed, she immediately called to check on her sister – and the baby had not been born.  She had no idea where the hospital was and it turned out to be ten minutes from the airport.  She said, “I was so nervous about this trip, but I just know it will be ok.  I know I will get there and my mom is going to be so happy.”  That was a God thing.  

Don’t ever doubt that God can use you – even for something very simple but very meaningful to someone else.  Keep your eyes open and your prayers winging their way to God!  You will get chances to go out of your way while on your way.

There’s more.  The return trip was just as awesome.  I actually met a guy who plays football for the New England Patriots.  But that’s another story.

When I called, you answered me; you made me bold and stouthearted.  Psalm 138:3

Where's the Beef?

 Aunt Cat was one of my grandmother’s four sisters.  She and Uncle Polly lived in Mobile and we did, too, from the time I was two years old until I was six.  I once asked her if she was named Cat because she looked like a cat when she was a baby.  She told me that they called her Cat because it was short for Catherine.  That made absolutely no sense to me until Mama wrote it down and explained it to me.  Even then I was a little skeptical.

One night Aunt Cat invited us to her house for supper.  I was all for it.  I loved Aunt Cat’s house and I knew that she would fix something wonderful – like a hamburger.  She knew how I loved hamburgers and that’s what I ate at her house.  But, this time, I was wrong.  So wrong,  She fixed beef stroganoff.  Really.  I had never come face to face with beef stroganoff and I certainly was not impressed.   It is not a very kid-friendly food.  Mama understood that I didn’t really want to eat anything more exotic than a grilled cheese sandwich.  Clearly, the message had not completely reached Aunt Cat.  I had no idea what I was looking at.  The only thing I recognized was noodles.   Where on earth was that hamburger I thought I was getting?

Supper wasn’t quite the event I had hoped for.  We managed to reach a compromise.  I ended up with a lot of noodles compared to everything else, but I didn’t escape that glob of jumbled beef stuff entirely.  As it turned out, the beef stroganoff wasn’t as awful as it appeared.  I mostly ate it because Mama made it clear that by no means would I hurt Aunt Cat’s feelings.  It remains my one and only beef stroganoff meal, even after all these years.  

Sometimes it feels like life just handed me a giant plate of beef stroganoff when I was really hoping for a hamburger.  Or even a grilled cheese.  But there is good news.  God is always there – even in the midst of the gloppiest, yuckiest, most unappetizing circumstances.  I know.  I’ve been there.  So was He.

Taste and see that the LORD is good; blessed is the man who takes refuge in him.  - Psalm 34:8

Daddy's Girl

There was an aquarium in my first grade classroom that contained an odd assortment of fish and one snail.  One day, the aquarium sprung a leak.  We had to do something quick or else our fish were doomed, along with the lone snail.  So Mrs. Barker deviated from the schedule on the wall, ignored our spelling lesson, and rounded up a bunch of jars in all shapes and sizes. She took the little net that we had never had occasion to use and scooped up the fish one at a time and transferred them to their temporary homes.  I volunteered to have Daddy fix the aquarium.  Mrs. Barker called our house and told him how much she appreciated his willingness to repair our aquarium and wanted to know the best way to get it to him.  That was how he found out that I had volunteered him for the job.  After that, I started telling him so he wouldn’t be surprised if my teacher happened to call.

I was always volunteering him for something.  I didn’t see any problem at all with that.  After all, I was convinced that Daddy could do anything and I was perfectly willing to offer his help.  He made a gerbil habitat and a bookshelf.  He repaired a bench, a small footstool, a coat rack, and a globe that fell apart because Albert wanted to see how fast it could spin.  And, of course, he fixed the aquarium.  When I said that he would fix our coat rack, my teacher said, “That would be an imposition.”  I had no idea what an imposition was.  It sounded kind of important, though, and I figured it would be quite an honor.  

Daddy never complained.  After I grew up, I asked him why he never told me to just stop.  He said that it seemed important to me and he didn’t really mind the work, so he just kept on helping.  Plus, he was kind of fascinated by all the things I thought he could do.  I just laughed and then he said, “I wasn’t going to let you down.”  And he never did.

In June of 2004, Daddy died.  There are so many things he has missed in the past eight years – so many things that I know he would have enjoyed.   But I will always be thankful that he missed out on my cancer.  It would have been harder for him that it has been for me. 

And I am thankful for a Heavenly Father who can fix anything, too.  I am so thankful for His healing, His care, and His comfort.  It is hard for me to imagine that God loves me infinitely more than Daddy did.  Happy Father’s Day to both of my fathers.  I have always been a Daddy’s Girl.

You've kept track of my every toss and turn through the sleepless nights, Each tear entered in your ledger, each ache written in your book.  Psalm 56:8

The Right Teacher

 Mama got her driver’s license when my brother was about to start first grade.  The plan was that Daddy would teach her and she’d be out driving in no time.

There were a few glitches from the beginning.  Mama was short, so she had to sit on something to be tall enough to drive comfortably.  I offered the use of my pillow, but she opted for what Daddy called a “driving cushion.”  Problem solved.

Then there was her shoes.  Turns out that Mama had heard some awful story about a woman who caused a fiery crash by getting the heel of her shoe caught in the accelerator.  She decided to drive barefooted.  Second problem solved.  (I drive without shoes to this day.  You can’t be too careful.)

So, then the real fun started.  My brother and I would get in the back seat.  Mama was perched on her driving cushion, barefooted, with the seat pulled up all the way.  Daddy sat on the passenger side with his knees under his chin.

The lessons were always short.  Mama couldn’t follow Daddy’s directions.  Daddy sat with one hand holding the dashboard and one hand gripping the back of the seat.  He did not inspire confidence.  Every lesson ended with Mama and Daddy swapping seats and Daddy driving us back home.  Even I knew there had to be a better way, and Mama was determined to find it.  The plan in place had disaster written all over it.

Mama always liked to play Bingo and she and Daddy would sometimes go play at the Air Force base.  Mama won some money, bought some driving lessons with her ill-gotten gains, and soon had a license to drive.  Those lessons were one of the very few times when we were left with a babysitter.  The driving instructor refused to let us go along.  I told him that I wasn’t scared, but it didn’t change his mind.  I offered my services to alert Mama about any upcoming red lights.  He was not persuaded.  We stayed home with the babysitter.

That whole combination of student and teacher can be so critical.  It can be the difference between succeeding or not.  Mama and Daddy were a wonderful pair for almost everything, but not when it came to Mama learning how to drive.

There is a Teacher who is is always the right one, though.  With God as our guide and teacher, we can’t have a better combination.  Our job is to listen, to learn, to grow, to obey.  If we do that – and it isn’t all that easy at times – we are guaranteed success in the life God has planned for us.

Don’t miss your blessing!  Your Teacher is ready and willing.  It’s up to you to show up for the lesson.  Pray, read the Bible, participate in Bible study, listen for God’s voice.  We’ve got a lot to learn!

I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go; I will counsel you with my eye upon you. Psalm 32:8

Looking Ahead

I found out pretty early on that Mama was adventurous and a lot of fun.  She also knew how to make the best of a bad situation.  I’m pretty sure that she was almost always that way.  When Mama was twelve years old, she decided to teach herself how to drive.  She was at Nanny’s house.  Nanny was her grandmother and my great-grandmother.  Mama got in the car and took off.  Not too far into her maiden voyage, she ran into the mailbox and knocked the post out of the ground.  Nanny could have had a major fit and Mama could have been in big trouble.  Instead, Nanny just looked at the mess and said, “Run get our bait can – there are lots of worms in this hole and we’re going fishing!”  Nanny knew all about that business of making lemonade out of lemons.  Mama gave up on being a self taught driver.  She didn’t learn how to drive until my older brother was in the first grade.  There’s another story about that. 

Unlike Mama, I wasn’t the least bit interested in learning how to drive.  When we were teenagers, my friends were anxious to learn to drive and get a license.  Not me.  The whole idea could not have been more unappealing.  I signed up for Driver’s Ed in school.  Hated it.  Hated it.  Hated it.  Didn’t get a driver’s license and felt somewhat fortunate and a lot relieved to have escaped with my life.  I actually made an A in that class.  Go figure – our grade was based on tests, not driving.

Time went by and I graduated from high school.  Without a driver’s license.  I started college.  Without a driver’s license.  I was an anomaly, but I was a very resourceful anomaly.  I always got where I needed to be.

If it hadn’t been for my brother’s best friend, I might still be bumming rides.  The three of us – my brother, Ricky (brother’s best friend), and I had gone to Deatsville to look at a snake.  (Yep – that’s another story, too.)  I don’t remember why, but we were in two vehicles and I was riding with Ricky.  On the way back, he said, “You can drive.”  What?!  Oh no I can’t.  No.  No.  No.  Bad idea.  Really bad idea. But he was persistent.  He said he knew I could do it and he would help.  So, with a white-knuckled death grip on the steering wheel – at 10 o’clock and 2 o’clock, of course – I headed onto the interstate.  God, please don’t let me get us killed.  Please help me.  PLEASE!!

And then Ricky said, “Where are you looking when you drive?”  Well, of all the dumb questions!  Where do you think I’m looking?!  He kept on, “Are you looking at the road right in front of the car?”  I said, “Yes.”  He said, “OK, that’s the thing we have to fix.  Look farther down the road at where you are going – that lets you really drive to where you want to be.”  I tried it.  Oh my goodness!  What a difference.  Driving was a piece of cake when I looked ahead instead of three feet in front of the bumper.  Who knew?!  Two weeks later, I got my driver’s license.  I was eighteen.  Really. Since then, I’ve had lots of chances in my life to employ my number one driving rule – look ahead to where you are going.  That’s how this cancer journey has been.  A year ago, I started looking ahead to where I wanted to be.  Done with chemo.  Done with Herceptin.   Done with radiation.  Cancer-free.  Getting on with my life.

Easy?  Nope.  Not even close.  But, so much easier than it could have been.  I spent my time doing as much looking ahead and looking up as I could.  God knew all along what I was going through.  He had it all under control, even when I didn’t.  My next surgery is Monday, May 14^th.  Reconstruction and port removal!  Woohoo!

All along, my prayer has been that I will learn what God has to teach me through this experience and that He will show me how to use it to help someone else.  I am amazed at the opportunities He has given me to help others in some small way.  I know for sure that it truly can be the small things that bring the most encouragement.  My prayer isn’t about doing something big.  It’s about not wasting this cancer.  It’s about doing what He has planned, no matter how insignificant it may seem to me.

Cancer doesn’t feel like a blessing.  The opportunities you get in the midst of cancer – well, that’s the blessing.  And I don’t want to miss any of them.

Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.  James 1:2