Weight Watchers. I joined back in June at the urging of my daughter, Lorena.

I am really missing her this week. She is in Branson, MO helping her inlaws celebrate their 40th wedding anniversary, which isn't until next year. But the younger daughter, Amy, is getting married next summer, so they moved it up a year. Personally, I think they should have just called it the 39th Anniversary celebration. : ) Congratulations Dub and Ann on your 39th, errr....40th Anniversary!

Still, I am missing her this week. She has become my coach, my cheerleader, and my grocery shopping partner on Tuesdays when we meet in Lubbock for WW and lunch.

We shopped at Market Street the week before I went to Greenwood, and Dacia (who will be 4 in Sept) and I had fun over in the cake and pastry section while Lorena took Saidee and worked on her list.

There was a young woman behind the counter decorating a cake, and Dacia was just mesmerized by it for at least 10 minutes! Ahhh, the simple pleasures . . . Of course, then we also had to go thru the cake book and let her show me the one she wants for her 4th birthday. It will be Dora this year.

I am thankful that Lorena, Jeff and the girls live close enough to share this kind of time together.

I have been struggling with a situation that was depleting my energy and just plain frustrating me. It usually comes down to trying to change things that are either not in my control to change or wanting someone to change -- again which is not in my power, even if it would bring the other person a greater quality of life.

I know I have been lifted up in prayer by several friends and my elders, who have been true spiritual leaders in every sense of the word. I also surfed myself to Sara's blog and felt renewed in my spirit by her vision of bringing hope to the hopeless and intervening in broken lives through an approach that focuses on strengths and solutions, instead of dysfunction and blame. I needed to hear that today. It is the message of the gospel.

This tired, 48 year-old was feeling pretty ragged and burdened after a weekend of disappointment. I needed the gift that this young, vibrant 23 year-old young woman offered in her writing. I needed to be reminded of what is working, instead of what isn't. And, after a week of pure joy with a son, daughter-in-law and a grandson whose lives are devoted to their Creator, how could I give place to anything but love?

I feel refreshed in my spirit. I am at peace. I know God is in control.

Thank you, Father, for friends, spiritual leaders and those we may never know except through their words of grace and hope. Thank you for that word of encouragement wherever we find it and may I always be that light of encouragement to another who is feeling broken in spirit and shattered by the obstacles in their path.



http://saradarling.blogspot.com/2004/07/been-awhile.html

My week with Michael, Jill and Mason was truly a blessing. Mason is 21 months now and talking up storm, using those cute, toddler-like mutations of the English language,(airplane, still sounds like elephant,drink sounds like train, and Gramma sounds like Mamma). He can count to 20 in English, 10 in Spanish, say his ABCs, approximate any word or phrase you say to him and has an obsession for trains.

Besides doing the babysitting thing so Michael and Jill could have a date, complete yard projects, etc, Jill, Mason and I also went on 10 mile bike rides (with help of an attachable 3-wheel cart on Jill's bike), swimming and we visited a goat farm.

It was great to renew acquaintances at the Greenwood church of Christ where they go. There are lots of kids and some pretty enlightened adults who are versed in scripture and have servant hearts.

We attended a physicians Bible study on Monday night where doctors and residences prayed, and discussed ways that they were bringing Christ to their patients as well as also obstacles they faced with their schedules and their own spirtuality. One doctor talked about how he prayed with his patients. I was truly uplifted and glad that Michael had found such a wonderful group during his residency.

The week was short; it was hard to leave. Saturday, I received an IM from Michael saying that he had taken Mason to visit some of his patients at the assisted living center and the nursing home. I am so grateful that Mason has parents that deem those things important and that they are doing such a great job bringing up my grandson.

Again in response to comments made in Mike's blog -- this time concerning a gentleman who disrupted our communion service (which was done differently from the way we traditionally have done it):


One never knows how we will respond to culture shock or what was even going on with him. But could we give him the benefit of the doubt?

It reminded me of an incident that occurred with my grandfather that people at that congregation still laugh about. They were having services and suddenly were under tornado/severe thunderstorm warning. The whole congregation retreated to the basement.

Some of the guys saw this as a chance to start some 42 tables and a few even braved the storm to fetch their dominoes. (I guess true Texans always keep a set in the pickup.)

Now, my grandfather loved 42, but he could not fathom the church building as being the place to enjoy this type of activity. He was also not very outspoken, nor was he generally given to expressing his opinion. But in that moment his religious ferver conquered his fears and he climbed up on one of the tables and began to shout: "In the church building? IN THE CHURCH BUILDING!!!!!"

I don't mind people laughing about him doing that if it is from a point of acceptance and love, but I can guarantee you that it was not funny to him and he felt something sacred had been violated.

So it occurs to me that my granddad could have been capable of doing just what that man did and if that had happened, I would have been grateful that Mike handled him with the restraint that he did. And I hope that in the jesting we do about these types of incidences, we never lose sight that these are people who matter, too. It could be someone's grandparent, mom, brother, sister, dad, or even child-- but always a child of God.

Mike Cope brought up the Women's Role issue today in his blog. Here was my response:

I believe that those of us women who can adapt to whatever environment we find ourselves in -- traditional or otherwise--are the ones who are truly free. I have never felt disenfrachised because of the customs of our more conservative brethren. What I have found is that, regardless of the rules, I could generally find a way through them or around them to be God's light and and further his kingdom. And I have never thought for a moment that I was second-best because there was a rule that kept me from preaching to a mixed audience, even though I inherited my dad's plexiglass podium when he died and can picture myself behind it.

While I am interested to see where this emphasis of women's role will lead us, I am saddened by those who have left Highland, those who will leave Highland and those of us who have family members from out of town who will no longer worship with us at Highland when they come to visit because of matters of conscience. I am also concerned with a lopsided emphasis that says that those who stand up front and direct our services are more important than those who do not.

Simply telling people that they can go down the street if they want a more conservative c of C may silence our exposure to elements of the oposition within our midst, but there are places where there are not churches of any kind on every street corner. In the mission field, where I spent much of my life, we did not have the luxury of division or simply going down the street. Instead, we found ways to bring Christ to our location with as few "issues" as possible. And it is really interesting to me how the field produces strong men and women who learn to work within social custom and who enjoy active ministries.

A few random thoughts:

I find it interesting that it was the Church in its infancy that took the gospel to the entire world. That was the church to which Paul gave the rules we are now arguing. If this is truly where the Spirit is leading us, then what will our harvest look like?

I am concerned about the spirit of division that seems to be cropping up with women over this issue. When I have asked what I felt like were legitimate questions, I have been shot down by some rather hostile female voices. When that happens, I begin to wonder: Is this really about serving God and giving everyone an equal voice or are people simply finding ways to enforce their power over others?

Even when woman participate fully in every aspect of worship, there will still be some women who will be considered more equal than others, just as there are men who fit into that category now.

One thing I do believe is that our elders do care that every member be equipped and supported in his or her God- given ministry. I felt that long before the women's role was ever studied. I also know that my husband has found a group of men who have supported him in his spiritual growth. So I know that the community of believers who meet at Highland are about more than an issue, and I pray that it will continue to be this way.

Katie Brown was only 11 when she passed away.

I felt a special connection to Katie because her dad had lived with Jim and me when he was a teenager. He married, had 3 children, and the oldest was Katie.

Katie was diagnosed with sarcoma cancer when she was about nine. She endured chemo and everything that surrounds that treatment. We all celebrated at times when her prognosis was favorable or when her cancer was finally in remission. At one point, she was cancer-free. But several weeks later it all came back with a vengence and the end came fairly quickly.

While Katie was still alive and struggling with this disease, she had periods of time when she was well enough to attend school, with the help of a chemo backpack. During one of her classes, she had a writing assignment which was autobiographical in nature. In it, she talked about her cancer and about how as difficult as the pain had been to endure, it had actually produced a gift.

And what was that gift? "I have become more real."

She talked about how the pain had stripped away every thing that was artificial in her life and had only left her with her true essence -- pretty mature words for a child of her age.

While none of us would choose pain, I wonder if there is truly any other method God can allow to strip away the dross and reveal the true beauty that is within each of us. Not that God causes the pain, but His glory can be revealed through it.