2010

Today is the final day of the year 2010. A day to look backward and forward. What did 2010 hold? And what will 2011 contain?

Thus far I am ending my year in airports. (And let me just tell you as I sit in Kansas City that it is the oddest airport I’ve ever been in. I’m not the only one who exited the gate area and realized I was back in the general airport. So, back through security I went.) I’m sorry to leave my family and the holiday back in Indiana, but I’m tired, feel like I’ve gained about 20 pounds and am ready to get back on schedule – even in Texas.

For me, 2010 has contained much more than I ever imagined it would. Surprises have abounded, and I’m not talking about a new car or anything like that. The changes that have been most amazing are ones I couldn’t conjure up in a million years. They are things God has done in me. Wonderful, loving and sometimes difficult. But all of them in the hands of my loving heavenly Father who knows the desires of my heart even better than I do.

So I sit here awaiting my plane (and watching all the unique people one can find in an airport), I do wonder what 2011 will hold. What will God do with the changes He has wrought in my heart? I’m not placing any bets on anything. Nor do I want to. I’d rather see what God does. It may be hard – very hard. And it may be wonderful – very wonderful. Most likely, it will be a mixture of both.

But this I know. Whatever happens….wherever I go…whoever crosses my path…my God does not change. He does all things well. Of me He requires one thing: “Trust Me.”

A blessed 2011 to you all!!!

Christmas in Indiana

A white Christmas!!!!

Rosie - the Purdue Boilermaker dog.

Sally and Dad, waiting to open one present Christmas Eve.


Abby getting out the meat and cheese for the Christmas Eve meal.

Me and my "baby" brother Caleb.

Jenny and Grace opening presents Christmas morning.

Mom - go Tennessee Volunteers!

Christmas Memories

It is Christmas Eve…and so tomorrow is Christmas Day. And I am ensconced in my purple bedroom in Indiana, surrounded by over a thousand books, Beauty and the Beast pictures, and a world white with snow – and more on the way!!! Just what Christmas should be…only different.

For my closet isn’t full of clothes. It’s my suitcase that is. Not all my books are on my shelves here, but there are a hundred more back in Texas. My desk is empty of stacks – those are back in Texas, too. And I have three large Tupperware containers stacked in my bedroom. In those belong my Christmas decorations, which will come down before I leave next week.

Christmas is a time full of memories. This began on the very Christmas, the day Christ was born, angels came from heaven to give Him glory, and shepherds left their sheep to worship Him in a humble stable. Mary “kept all these things, and pondered them in her heart” (Luke 2:19). And I’m sure she never forgot them as long as she lived.

When I was a little girl, we did all kinds of things at Christmas. My sister Katey and I marked up the Sears catalog with initials so large you couldn’t see the pictures. We made long lists to hand to Santa. We decorated Christmas cookies, enjoyed the new (usually matching) dresses Mom made for us, and we stayed up as long as we could on Christmas Eve in hopes to hear the reindeer on the roof. Christmas was spent with family: grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins. Sometimes this meant an all-night drive to Texas. Other times it meant an afternoon at Grandma Ogilvie’s. Each place held different traditions, distinct and special. Grandma Ogilvie would play the piano, and we got to hand out the gifts, and we’d run down to the basement to play when the house grew too warm. In Texas, we camped out on the living room floor, and Grandma had funny Polish/German traditions like pickled herring, and I had to be very careful about the cookies I selected from the cookie tier: Sandies and Mexican Wedding Cake cookies look very similar and the latter are DISGUSTING!

These traditions were always special, but they changed when we headed to New England. We didn’t go back to Tennessee for four years. And Texas? We didn’t make it back for eight years and only because we moved there. By then, I wasn’t a little girl with cute dresses and hair ribbons anymore. I was a teenager. A lot of Christmas traditions changed as I did. No more reindeer on the roof, the Sears catalog had shrunk in half, and younger cousins handed out the gifts. But my family made traditions of their own: a one day shopping venture we all piled into the van for, putting up our tree the day Navy plays Army, waking up at dawn Christmas day, having different people over who needed a family to Christmas with. All of them as special as the ones they replaced.

And now I’m not an awkward teenager shifting between childhood and the long years of adulthood. Tomorrow will be my 31^st Christmas. I’m a full-fledged adult (even when I don’t feel like it) with a job, a place to live, bills to pay, and a home I fly to when the holidays come around. And with those changes come more changes in tradition. I hung my ornaments on the tree yesterday, remembering each one as a special gift from someone I love. I had to do my Christmas shopping alone and in spurts as I found the time. Does Sears even put out a catalog? And there is no new Christmas dress. Yet some traditions never change:

There are puzzles laid out to be done. Today Abby, Mom and I will cook sausage balls, the breakfast casserole, and Jesus’ birthday cake (while the others are at work). Tonight we will have the traditional Christmas Eve meal passed down from the Sturm family: cold cuts, cheeses, pickles, crackers – enough “snack” foods to feed an army. And we’ll open one gift. Tomorrow we will awake with the crack of dawn (and snow!), our stockings will be full of good things, the tree will be lit, and gifts will be handed out and unwrapped until you can’t see the gifts through the mounds of paper and boxes. We’ll eat a huge meal, play games, lay around, wear new clothes. But most of all, we’ll enjoy being together – a blessing from the One who was born to bring peace on earth, good will to men.

Grady longs to belong. To know who he is. To feel he does something important. But on the road with a traveling show, his life is one change after another. An orphan, he doesn't know who he is or where he came from. And, worse, when his show falls from popularity he must face the fact that he isn't who he always thought himself to be. Or is he?

Grady's act as a feechie (a mysterious wild man from the swamps) needs reviving. And what better way to do that than scare the countryside with moans in the night, flint arrows, and wild cries? It doesn't take long to cause a frenzy...and maybe more.

If you're looking for a good story from a great storyteller, don't miss Jonathan Rogers's newest adventures of Corenwald, civilizers, feechies and his newest beloved character Grady.

http://waterbrookmultnomah.com/catalog.php?isbn=9780307458223

This book was provided for review by Multnomah Publishers.

For God is not the author of confusion, but of peace... 1 Corinthians 14:33

I was reading a book a few weeks ago that reminded me of this great truth. And gave me great comfort. For what I had going on my life seemed confusing, but I didn't feel confused. In fact, I was at perfect peace. A confirmation to me that everything going on was in the hands of my loving Heavenly Father.

But this weekend was another matter. I could say, well, I'm a bit sick. For the first time in I don't know how many years, I have a real all-out cold. Sore throat, sinus congestion, sneezing, blowing of the nose - and lots of washing my hands. A friend and I had a disagreement this week that wasn't very pleasant, so I had that on my mind. And something I really wanted didn't happen. It shouldn't have mattered but stretched out on the couch in front of a roaring fire with It's a Wonderful Life playing on the television, it did matter. So I woke up Sunday morning a bit frustrated and cranky. I don't think God appreciated what I had to say that morning. For that matter, I didn't appreciate it. Off to church I went in a foul mood, half-heartedly praying for a "word in season".

Then the pastor rose to the pulpit, told us to turn to Galatians 4 and announced the title of his sermon: "God's Perfect Timing". I could have closed my Bible and gone home right then with a soaring heart, humbled that God answered my half-hearted prayer for a Word.

Laying on the couch in front of yet another fire that afternoon, I realized what I had done that weekend. I had taken my eyes off my God. Off the One who gives me my blessings. Off the One who loves me more than anyone ever will. And once I did that, I lost my center. I started looking at myself, my failings, what had not happened...and stumbled into a state of confusion. A place where God is not. And so no hope dwells. It's a miserable place.

I prayed this weekend that the Lord would give me a prayer for the week. And now I have it: that my focus will remain on my God. Exactly where it belongs.

The Joy of Children

Children are one of God’s greatest blessings to us, as I have been reminded this week. Just last night, I held a tiny baby in my arms – only just over five pounds. Our social worker had her baby last week on December 7. I brought a meal to her and her husband after work yesterday. And you can’t do that and not hold the baby. Ruby Danger is the little one’s name. (Don’t ask about the middle name…) She’s tiny and adorable with a little nose, and little fingers, and little ears, and dark eyes. Beautiful! And I hope to see her lots more since Jane, her mother, is going crazy being stuck in a house and she doesn’t live very far from me. Great excuse, huh?

The after the Christmas cantata at church on Sunday, we had a fellowship of snacks and cookies. After putting food on my plate, I decided to join 5-year-old Andrew who was already snacking away on pizza and clementines.

Pizza, of course, brought up the subject of Chuck-E-Cheeses. He informed me when he grew up he was going to take his younger brother John (who is 3) to Chuck-E-Cheeses. “It’s a lot of fun,” he said, “but they have yucky pizza. Do you think this pizza is from Ci-cis? They have good pizza. I don’t know. I can’t read the box. I’m just learning to read.”

I told him I hadn’t read the box either so I didn’t know, but I asked him if the pizza was good anyhow.

“Yes. We get out of school for Christmas. Do your children?”

“I don’t have any children, but I get off for Christmas, too,” I replied, probably just as excited as he is at the prospect.

This led to a discussion on what he studies in school. Then he fell quiet as he worked the peel off his second clementine. I don’t think he cared for the silence (for knowing his family there probably isn’t much silence in his house), so he turned to the guy next to him and said, “You two can talk now.”

We didn’t have half as many interesting things to talk about as pizza or school, and Andrew soon had more to say. I felt like I was being drilled. What is your favorite food? What is your favorite drink? Would I like to come to his house? When was my birthday? Where was I born? How far is that from Texas? And when he didn’t have anything else to say about the newest Shrek movie, he said, “You can ask me questions now.”

So I did. I asked him about his favorite food, and drink, and color, and birthday. He told me he wished he could have fun birthdays like his older siblings Calvin and Kate. (Mmh…that refrain sounds familiar…) But when I asked him what kind of birthday he wanted, he just shrugged and said, “Oh, one with cake and ice cream.”

Then we got talking about our wiis and the miis we had created. He said his had a red shirt, and brown eyes, and brown hair. “He used to have a mustache, but Kate messed with him.”

“What’s his name?” I asked.

“Andrew.”

“Oh. You named him after yourself.”

“Mama said we had to so she would know what we’re doing.”

Wise mother. Of course, my mii is not named after myself. The one in Texas is named Kaylee.

“Is your name Kaylee?” he asked.

“No. It’s Melissa.”

He seemed to think about this for a moment and then nodded. “Miss Melissa.”

It’s been a while since I’ve been called that! It was wonderfully old and familiar.

I got a break when he went to get dessert. That totaled up to six chocolate cookies.

“Andrew, you won’t eat all that,” the pastor’s wife said.

“Sure I will,” he replied.

“Can I have one?” the guy next to him asked.

“No.”

But when that guy left to get his own dessert, he offered me two. Selective sharing.

It’s been a long time since I’ve had a conversation with a 5-year-old. And how much I miss it! For all the world seems right when you see it through the eyes of a child. No problems, no questions to answer, no future to figure out. And isn’t that the way it should be? As the old saying goes, “God is on His throne. All is well with the world.”

19 years ago we got an early Christmas present...


Happy Birthday, Jenny!

Delight thyself in the Lord, and He will give you the desires of your heart. Psalm 37:4

If any of you have known me for any period of time and I have dropped you a note in the mail, you know I sign my name with this verse. I can’t remember when I selected this particular verse. I know I was in my teens. Lots of people I know had verses to sign with their names. “I need one of those, too,” I thought – completely forgetting that if-every-one-else-jumps-off-a-cliff-would-you? And as I was romantic as any teenage girl, I thought this would be the ideal verse. Some sort of guarantee of a bright and glorious future beyond my wildest dreams.

Well, I have to say that my future since then has been bright, glorious, and beyond my wildest dreams. It’s also contained the hardest trials, deepest scars and greatest challenges. But as I’m sure you know – and as the Lord taught me – there are two essential truths to this verse:

1. You must delight yourself in the Lord. (Not friends, sports, fun or – my greatest weakness – books.)
2. He will give you the desires of your heart. Not you will receive every desire your deceitful little heart can wish upon, but the desires of your heart will become what He wants for you.

It’s not a very difficult confession to sit here and tell all of you that I have not kept this verse extremely well over the past fifteen or sixteen years. I have not always delighted myself in the Lord. And I have begged (pleaded, cried, sobbed, shouted, etc.) my own desires until I’m hoarse. And every time the Lord has taught me one thing: “Trust me, Melissa. My way is best. My desires for you are far beyond those wildest dreams. Trust me, you’ll love it.”

And I have. It hasn’t always been easy. In fact, I once felt as if I was walking through hell itself. But it was necessary. For even now, I am beholding the fruit of that “valley of the shadow of death”.

What I find most amazing about this verse right now is that it works in reverse. As my life unfolds in different ways, I find God knows my desires better than I know them myself. He fulfills longings I had no idea were there. And as He does so, I delight myself in Him even more.

Truly, my God is amazing.

This week somebody told me of a guy who journaled every time he cut his nails. Now sometimes I am hard up for something to journal/blog about; but I hope I never have to reach that low.

Lately life has been very busy. The holidays, I suppose, but there are many other things going on as well. I was thinking and praying on my way to work this morning, and God was reminding me yet again that while my life continues to change He never does. Then another thought hit me.

"God, if You're sovereign - and I know You are - and if You knew me and the plans You have for me before I was even born - and I believe You do - then not only are You unchanging, but Your plans for me are also unchanging. They change from my point of view, but they don't from Yours. What is to be will be. And I have to trust the One who loves me more than anyone else ever will."

It was a staggering thought, and it still is. But that still, quiet voice has echoed in my head all day long:

"Trust Me, Melissa. Everything will be okay."

And the week comes to an end...

By the time Friday comes along, I usually am ready for the week to be over and the weekend to begin. Friday evenings typically consist of collapsing on the couch with something to eat and a good movie to watch. (I suppose I can agree with all the nurses in the office that claim I have no social life...) But this Friday, I am especially tired. I don't know why. I slept well last night, turning out the lights at 9:30. My week hasn't been overly stressful (okay, so I did loose it one morning - much to my boss's surprise - but I get a little tired of fixing everyone's fiascoes), and I did just have a long vacation. But maybe I just have way too much on my mind.

Truly, it's been one of those weeks when even problems (like three-ring-circus patient admissions) are annoying but not really upsetting. Even with lots to think about as late, nothing is really bothering me. I feel God has been blessing me - and I also feel like I wish He had just left me where I was. But God doesn't do that. He likes to take a person (me) who thought she had a nice, pleasant, calm life and throw a wrench in it. It hasn't stopped nice, pleasant or calm; but it has certainly given me new angles I never considered - at least, not really considered.

But thankfully God hasn't left me to figure out the random thoughts that skip through my head (or make their way across like an out-of-control freight train). My Bible readings have been full of Truth - some forgotten, some new. Most of them center around one thing: God's sovereign plan for my life.

I marveled at Revelation 13:8b, "...everyone whose name has not been written before the foundation of the world in the book of life of the Lamb who was slain." Which means that before God even created the world, He put my name - Melissa Michele Sturm - in His book of life. And that is a staggering thought.

Or Romans 8:38-39, "I am persuaded that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord." For me this week, that meant that even my life itself cannot take me from my God - and nor should I let it.

But my favorite (the one I posted on my work computer) is Habakkuk 2:3b, "...If it seems slow, wait for it; it will surely come; it will not delay."

All the wonderful plans God has for my life will come. Not one of them will fall through the cracks. I won't truly miss out on a second of it. I just have to wait. And trust.

Rich and spoiled, Lottie can think of nothing worse than marrying an American socialite in order to improve her family’s fortune. She dreams of a life of romance and adventure. So, why not switch places with her maid Dora? She can search of the life she desires on the streets of New York while Dora charms and marries the great Conrad Tremaine. Of course, nothing ever goes as planned…

Nancy Moser devises a magnificent plot in her novel Masquerade, but the characters, their lives, and the friendship they are supposed to have fall flat. While Lottie makes many wonderful discoveries of life for immigrants in New York while Dora discovers the splendor of the New York’s great Four Hundred; neither girl ever truly seems concerned about what happens to the other. The changes in their own lives and thoughts just happen with a nod at the One who directs our paths. And, truly, what is our life is God is not the center of it?

http://www.bethanyhouse.com/ME2/Audiences/dirmod.asp?sid=0477683E4046471488BD7BAC8DCFB004&nm=&type=PubCom&mod=PubComProductCatalog&mid=BF1316AF9E334B7BA1C33CB61CF48A4E&AudId=205F4A61B07648D98551934CA40DE116&tier=2

This book was provided by Bethany House Publishers for review purposes.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Truly, this Thanksgiving I have so much to be thankful for. Namely: everything. Good, bad, easy, difficult...I don't understand why people want to be "29-forever". For being 30 has been grand. Of course, I still have a few months to go, but they'll be okay - whatever they hold. My God will see to that.

Thanksgiving in Indiana has been great!!!! My parents, my sisters, and my baby brother. Only one sibling is missing, but I pray one day that will not be the case. Someday we will all be together again. But until then, I have enjoyed my days and hours in the frigid cold of the Indiana corn fields. Racquetball, a refrigerator full of Chick-fil-a food (since three siblings work there), seeing the movie "Tangled" today, old traditions and new. And dozens of pictures to remember it all by:

Old Tradition: The family message board. Everything that needs to be done gets listed here and you put your initial by the one you want to do - it's a good thing our parents gave us names with different initials, even if it wasn't intentional.

Old Tradition: Food, food and more food.

Old Tradition: Too full to move, lay around and watch a movie…only to fall asleep.

New Tradition: Set up my Christmas village, so I can enjoy it more than just one week.

Old Tradition: Play lots of games.

New/Old Tradition: Play the wii – this is Abby flying like a chicken.

Old "Tradition": Don't forget the dogs! This is Keats and Salem with their beloved Grace.

New Tradition: Compare your biceps…I think Caleb beats Abby and Katey. (He also showed us his six-pack, but I chose not to take a picture of that.)
Old Tradition: Spill the decorating balls. A tradition passed down from Katey to Jenny.

Old Tradition: Bake and decorate gingerbread cookies the day after Thanksgiving. Here we all are with our favorites: Caleb, Grace, Abby, Katey, Jenny, Sally and me.

Texas Thankfulness #9

I debated about doing yet another blog on things I am thankful about in Texas, as this week is Thanksgiving and there truly is so much to be thankful for both where I reside at present and wherever my paths shall lead. But last night was the Thanksgiving service at church, and I was reminded of one more thing Texas has given me, especially over the past month…

Change. Okay, so I’ll be honest. I am never 100% happy with changes in my life. I find comfort in routine and schedules. Especially after I have been in Texas for fifteen months and have my weekly schedule etched in stone. But last night one of the deacons stood up and said, “I am thankful for growth. Godly growth. I’m not the man I was a year ago. Or two years ago. God has changed me. He’s taught me more of Himself. And even though it isn’t always easy, it’s good.”

And it is. The changes I’ve suffered since my move down here haven’t been easy. Some came naturally. Others I fought until they became a part of my life. Many days (especially when I could enjoy a dip in a cool pool in late November), I want to go back where I came from. But like the man above, the changes have given me growth. I am still far from who I want to be as God’s child, but I can see advances.

Some change comes slowly. You just wake up one morning and realize, “When did I start doing this? Or thinking that?” It just happened, and God be praised for His gentleness towards us. But other times, change hits you upside the head. Even though you might have a suspicion that it’s in the air, when it happens you don’t what to do…or say…or think. And even though it can be completely terrifying, there is a peace in the midst of it. God is working. Who knows how…or why…or where it’s going, but there is always much to be learned. I just pray I will learn, trust my God, and let whatever happens happen…and hope it doesn’t hurt too much.

Over the past several years, God has reiterated to me over and over that He never changes. My life changes. And I wouldn’t wish a lot of those changes on my worst enemy. They hurt then – they ache now. But I wouldn’t exchange them for the lessons God has taught me – and continues to teach me – through them. And with a history like that, there is no reason to fear the changes of today – or the surprises of tomorrow.

I am so thankful that God never leaves me where I am. He pushes me to grow. He makes me more like Himself. And if I learn nothing else from the changes of today, I pray I will learn to love Him more.

I can't remember the first time I heard that memorizing Scripture is the best deterrent to temptation, but I have heard it often. I was recently reading a book that reminded me of this fact. The author pointed out, however, that memorizing "Jesus wept" would probably not keep you from giving into the temptation of, say, stealing. Her point was that a lot of Scripture must be memorized in order to truly combat the wiles of our enemy and the deceits of our own heart. I completely agree with that and have often wished my 30-year-old mind was as pliable and attentive as my 2-year-old mind was. For verses my dad taught me 28 years ago are still with me. The one I memorized this morning? Let me think...

And yet I stopped when I read that and realized that while "Jesus wept" might not keep me from stealing a coke at the local convenient store, it is an amazing verse. For it tells us so much about our Savior: His compassion, love, truth and how He is "touched with feeling of our infirmities".

When Jesus wept, it was at the tomb of His beloved friend Lazarus. Now Jesus knew when He received the message from Lazarus's sisters Mary and Martha days ago that Lazarus was sick unto death, but He did not hasten to their home in Bethany to heal the sick man. Because Jesus also knew He would raise Lazarus from the dead. He stood outside that tomb and wept, knowing all along that in a few moments, Lazarus would be as alive and well as Himself. Yet that did not stop His tears. That did not keep Him from entering into the sorrow of Mary and Martha. Nor, do I think, He mourned simply because they mourned. Lazarus was His friend. He sincerely felt the loss - even for a moment.

One of my favorite passages of the New Testament is the resurrection of Lazarus because it shows me so much about my loving Savior. I never fail to marvel that He did not go when Mary and Martha sent the message or His disciples beseeched Him to answer it. It seems callous, but it was the very best thing He could do for them. The compassion He shows to the sisters is wondrous - full of truth in the midst of His deep love for them. And then He weeps. The tenderness He shows reminds me of how much I am loved.

Of course, the conclusion of the story is Lazarus's amazing return to life. It confounded the witnesses and angered the religious leaders so much, the plot to take His life reached earnestness. Very shortly, He would die. And He would rise again. And all His glory and might would be shown for generations. So that His love might be given to me - and to all of His children.

And that is the wonder of two little words: "Jesus wept".

Texas Thankfulness #8

Some of you might not know, but about six weeks ago I moved in with a friend. Long story about the how I met this friend long ago, the house and all that stuff. But suffice to say, I have been very happy in the large house that includes a kitchen to die for, plenty of room for us and about a dozen other people, lots of land and a very nice fire place where we can tap into our pyro-maniac side. All of this makes me very grateful for...

Haley. She's my housemate. We've known each other since she was 13 and I sixteen. We've never been super close, but we've always been good friends and kept up with each other here and there. And now, we live together. Funny the paths the Lord takes us on.

There are many things I love about Haley, but the best is the way she just takes life as it comes and knows how to relax when work is over. Me? When my week is over and I sit down to watch a movie, I usually have my laptop propped up in front of me and I'm busy doing odd things on it. I am forever piddling around with this or that, simply because I haven't time the rest of the week to do. But when Haley is done with her work, she plops down in the chair, turns on a DVD and just sits. Hmm...novel idea.

Haley loves people. She goes out of her way to be there for them. She is a good friend to so many, hard working, and sees life with a touch of joy in everything - even the difficult times. She helped me move in and then she helped me move into larger rooms. This weekend she taught me how to build a proper fire. She lets me borrow books, watches movies with me, brings me home hot chocolate, and we share buy-one-get-one coupons (which, we agree, are very hard to use when you're single). And yesterday she proved what a good, supportive and protective friend she is when I was telling her about something and she said, "Well, I'll come with you and check that out."

It's great to have a place to live. And it's even better to live with someone you love.

Okay, I have been thinking most of the week about what to blog about today. I had several thoughts. For one, yesterday was Veteran's Day. And a BIG thank-you to all our veterans. What would America be without you?

Then I found a new hero. President Franklin Pierce. I haven't read a great deal about him, but a sketch I read raised him to the top of my favorite people list. If you don't know anything about him, well, he was the only President (so far) from New Hampshire. He held office from 1853 to 1857. Before that, he was a lawyer, politician in New Hampshire and a general during the Mexican War. But best of all, he was a Southerner in heart - for his sympathy and politics supported the Confederacy. Need to go finds some biographies about this guy...

Next I thought I could offer my readers a sketch of moving from a bedroom in the house in which I live to the back "staff quarters" which includes a huge bath, living area, bedroom and two closets (one which is practically a small office). For it was quite amusing. My few belongings were simple enough to move, one arm full at a time with the help of my housemate Haley and friend Jenny. But then came the moving of the bed. This took Jenny and I at least forty-five minutes as we went one way, then another, searched for tools, turned it around...and finally got it into the room. With all that, we decided to wait for Haley to return for the great move of the sofa. This went much smoother thanks to lessons learned from the bed. And Haley learned that many sofas have feet which come off so they can be moved. (One of those many tidbits of knowledge I have from now...let's see, 14 moves.)

But today brought the icing on the cake. For those of you who know about traveling home for the holidays, you know about the prices on flights. So, I opted for Christmas and decided to spend Thanksgiving in Texas (even though I didn't know what that would mean as far as who I would spend it with). I was discussing it with Laura, one of the new nurses who just moved down here from Pennsylvania. She's young, and newly married, and this will be her first holiday season away from home. (I found out a couple of weeks ago, she is the oldest of six.) After our chat, I went back to my desk and sat down to write some things on dead charts (the charts of patients who have passed away). My boss was at his desk which is directly across from mine in another office.

"Melissa, where do you fly into when you go home?" he asked.
"Indianapolis," I answered.
"Really..."
I thought the next question might be on geography, or things nearby, or whatever; but then...
"How would you like to go home for Thanksgiving?"
"Really?" (I am not a squealer, but I came close.)
"Sure," Mr. Harris said with a shrug. "These prices aren't bad at all. I'll pay for the flights. How does Monday to Sunday sound?"

And for the second time in my life, I jumped for joy. I wanted to hug someone, and dance, and scream, and shout.

I AM GOING HOME FOR THANKSGIVING!

Texas Thankfulness #7

"One of these days" is a rather common phrase in my life. For there are so many places I want to see, and people I want to visit, and things I want to do. But the biggest "one of these days" on my list is being a real published writer. Unfortunately, working a full time job does not allow for much time to write...so my dream must take a back seat to reality. But meanwhile, Texas does offer me one thing...

A writer's critique group. Every Wednesday night, this group meets at a bookstore in a mall in Grapevine not too far from where I work. So, after a jog through a nearby park and a bite to eat, off I head with my notebook (decorated with pictures Caleb and Violet have colored for me) and a chapter of my latest book to read. Four or five other ladies gather, most writers and one illustrator, to read and discuss our latest works, hopes and dreams. For me, it's a great two hours of insight, encouragement and a boost in confidence.

For, I've yet to consider myself a "writer", no matter how often I get told that if I scribble, then I am a "writer". I am especially so, because I can't stop. Even though I have so little time to do it now, I cannot imagine my life without stories running through my head, characters that are a part of my life, and my laptop full of ramblings. And I have a feeling that even if I had a copy of a book with my name on it in my hand, I still wouldn't be convinced I am a writer...that's just the way I am.

But the ladies in my critique group are convinced I can write. I'm very good with plots, characters, and I have wit. In fact, I've had them laughing at some of the things my last highstrung character did. They've told me many times they're just awaiting my first book. Now if I could only find a publishing company willing to take it...and time to send it to them. Until then, I'll just keep scribbling, dreaming and hoping!

PS - Yes, I changed my blog to suit my love for winter. For since Texas doesn't really have this season, I have to find ways to enjoy it any way I can!

For Libby, Petey and Bennett life has been difficult. Orphaned at young ages for different reasons, they now face adulthood at college. For Libby this means following her dream to become a great writer. Petey seeks the Lord as he studies to become a minister. And Bennett? Well, life is meant to be enjoyed…although the war going on across the ocean sounds very interesting.

As orphans, they are used to difficulties and trials to overcome, but each much learn to face hardships they never dreamed of. Will Petey’s faith stand as he comes face to face with the parents he has never forgiven? How will Libby support her friends and seek her own dreams? And will Bennett ever find a place to belong?

In Every Heartbeat by Kim Vogel Sawyer is a wonderful book about three young people at the turn of the century as they face the challenges God places in their paths. If you have a rainy Saturday ahead, pick it up and enjoy!

http://www.bethanyhouse.com/ME2/Audiences/dirmod.asp?sid=0477683E4046471488BD7BAC8DCFB004&nm=&type=PubCom&mod=PubComProductCatalog&mid=BF1316AF9E334B7BA1C33CB61CF48A4E&AudId=205F4A61B07648D98551934CA40DE116&tier=2

This book was provided by Bethany House Publishers for review purposes.

Texas Thankfulness #6

So, yes, Texas has been difficult in a lot of ways. I knew it would be...and so the decision to come wasn't easy, either. But it was made easier by one thing:

Grandpa. I only have one. Well, that's not true really, but I never knew my maternal grandfather who died before I was born. So, Grandpa is it. And I couldn't ask for a better one.

It's funny, but as a little girl your grandfather is just "Grandpa". The little man who makes gingerbread houses with you at Christmas, and sits in his chair with his little dogs, and eats gummy bears. But then you grow up and realize Grandpa was once young. He had a job. And he sure does look like Dad!

Most importantly, Grandpa loves me and wants to help me in my life. So, he let me move in with him when I moved down. I helped him keep up his house, made huge messes in his kitchen as I filled his freezer with all kinds of things to eat, and even helped him plant flowers (even though he knows I can't stand gardening). We'd watch movies together, and chat some evenings, and exchange news about other family members. I got to know my grandfather in ways I never had, and I am so glad for those days in his house.

I am very blessed to have a wonderful grandfather who is interested in my life and his other grandkids, who let me live with him for fourteen months and who I know will be there if I ever need him. He makes Texas just a little bit better.

And have you forgotten the exhortation that addresses you as sons?

"My son, do not regard lightly the discipline of the Lord,
nor be weary when reproved by him.
For the Lord disciplines the one he loves,
and chastises every son whom he receives." Hebrews 12:5-6 (ESV)

I read this verse the other night in my devotions and it has stuck with me over the past several days. Perhaps because moments of my life contain really stupid episodes...after which I wish God would just reach down from Heaven with a big paddle and whack me one. I would feel much better!

The KJV of this verse reads instead of discipline "chastisement". And the Lord does chastise those He loves. He does it for our own good, just as our loving parents spanked us when we were kids for doing things we should not. I am glad of His chastisement - I am also glad of His discipline.

We often think chastisement and discipline are the same. They go hand in hand, but they are not the same. Chastisement is used to teach us discipline. And that discipline should then keep us from further chastisement. For when my parents spanked, or punished me in other ways, for wrongdoing in my childhood it was so I might live a good and orderly life when I was grown and no longer under their personal care. The chastisement was so I might have discipline.

Which is why doing stupid things as an adult makes me want to bang my head against a wall. "Melissa, you know better than this!" I scold myself after an angry outburst, a pity-party, a cruel thought. "Your parents taught you better." And they have. I will be forever grateful to my parents for the time, energy and love they put into raising me in the way of righteousness. I just wish I didn't fall so short.

It is the same way with my God. I have been reading over all the blogs I ever posted - five years of my life on paper. And it is amazing the twists and turns I've been through, the lessons God has taught me, and the trials I have - and have yet to - overcome. As I look back even further than that, I see my God's disciplining hand forever on me. It is usually in the form of, "No, Melissa, not that way. This way." Sometimes I feel like I've missed out on so many experiences other people have, but then I am grateful the avoid things that won't do me any good anyhow. God's hand pushing, prodding and sometimes just grabbing me by the collar. Forever setting my feet on the straight and narrow. So that I might walk in the way of righteousness.

Discipline is good. It include character, and integrity, and doing right not just for yourself but for others. It isn't easy. Sometimes its downright exhausting. But it is a reminder of being truly loved. Of being a child of the King.

Texas Thankfulness #5

Revelation. I'm not talking about the mysterious John saw on the Isle of Patmos or the odd creatures the prophet Ezekiel witnessed. But on a much smaller scale, we all have "revelations". I had one a little over a week ago...

There are three things my heart desires above all else: returning to New England, being a published writer, and becoming a wife and mother. But I also know that my heart "is deceitful above all things and desperately wicked". So, I try my best not to follow it - instead looking to my God who gives me "the desires of my heart". And I have found over the years that my heart and my desires are odd things. Sometimes I don't even know them.

I'm not saying I don't want to ultimately be a wife and mother...even though I've been told many times over the past year that my biological clock is ticking. I cry when I read about Hannah and her longing for children (and always adding in my head, "Well, at least she had a husband - the first step!") I shake my head at women who would rather work than be with their kids, or say they don't want them, or they're a nuisance. Don't they know the greatest calling of being a woman is to be a wife and mother? And it is heartbreaking to think I could never have either? Because it is - on both counts.

But I made an amazing discovery just over a week ago. I said something I never thought I would say: "I am happy single." And I meant it. Because suddenly realized what having a relationship with some guy and then marrying him would actually mean. I'd have to give up somethings: tennis, hours spent with girlfriends, writer's group, crashing on Fridays after work. (I don't mean all of it, but I suspect he will want some of my spare time, of which I have none right now which means something will have to go.) And then, once we're married, I don't suppose he'll particularly like me dashing off to whatever, whenever with whomever. But that's the way I live right now and I like it.

Now I know that falling in love and getting married isn't all flowers and daydreams, but did you know its actually terrifying? And if I hadn't moved to Texas, I probably wouldn't have learned that. But now that I know, I'm ready to be single somewhere else...like in New England.

Texas Thankfulness #4

Right not it's really hard to be thankful about this state I find myself in. For it is October. But, as usual, Texas does its own thing and that right proudly. For it has been well over 80 - even 90 - degrees almost every day. When I leave for work around 7:15, it is already near 70. My sweaters and beautiful autumn clothing laugh at me every morning. And some idiot on the radio advertising "just as the leaves are falling so are our prices" didn't look outside his window to see that there are NO leaves falling...they are all still green. And we won't even bring up apples - the ones they sell down here look like wax and taste about as good. So I write this with tears in my eyes and a painful ache in my heart. For words cannot express how much I want to see color, watch autumn rains tumble from a grey sky, feel the tinge of frost in the morning air, and anticipate the coming of winter...

But, my God is bigger than this state. You've heard the jokes about Texas. Everything here is bigger. Bigger sky, bigger plains, bigger grasshoppers. I'll give them the grasshoppers, but Texans have bigger imaginations or are outright bigger liars if they think everything in this state is bigger. For Colorado has bigger mountains. Half the states in the US have bigger trees. New Hampshire has a bigger state Congress. And New York has bigger sky scrapers. And bigger than all this is my God who created it all.

Perhaps you have also heard Texans joke that God has especially blessed them and their wondrous state. Some who claim this are sincerely joking, but I truly think others believe it. For some reason unknown to mankind, God has a special place in His heart for Texans and their state. It's like they read the Bible and replace the word "Texas" every time they see "Israel". (And then they skip over the parts where God rains hell and brimstone down on Israel for their disobedience...sort of like Israel did.) I hate to break it to them, but God is bigger than their pride. If they imagine that.

God is so big and so wondrous, mankind cannot begin to comprehend Him. Or even imagine Him. All we can maintain is a taste of Him. A sample of His grace, His mercy, His wrath, His might, His love, His patience, His holiness. There is so much about my God I have not come to grasp in my 30 years of existence...and I never shall. But I know this: by His grace I come through every day in Texas. He dries my tears, gives me reasons to laugh, soothes the aches in my heart. He gives me a place to live, safety on the road, work to do, friends to be with. And, yes, He scolds me when I get out of hand - again.

For I am more like the real Israelites - not the blessed ones Texans think themselves to be. I am the one wandering through the desert griping, forgetting that if I would just look up I would see God in all His glory leading me every step of the way. There is a Promised Land on the other end of this journey. I keep praying and hoping it will be New England for the remainder of my life on earth...but even the beautiful Northeast is a wilderness.

A wilderness that leads to a glorious home in Heaven with my God - who is bigger than Texas.

This weekend I called Allyson. As I can no longer spend Thursday afternoons in her living room, this is the only way we communicate. It isn't nearly as nice as her home, but it works until I see her again.

We were not on the phone thirty seconds before I could hear some shouting in the background and Allyson excused herself for a moment. When she returned, she told me Silas was on the kitchen table. Silas is her youngest (until April) and turned one last month. He does not yet walk or stand for a long time by himself. But this past week he learned to maneuver the chairs around the kitchen table so he can crawl up into the chair and then onto the table. A little boy after my own heart - I was forever climbing as a kid.

Then I got to talk to Violet and Seth. Violet thanked me for the book I had sent her for her birthday a couple of weeks ago. She told me quite proudly she is now five. I asked if she were coloring pictures that afternoon. Of course she was. She told me she was coloring one she received for her birthday. It was of a little girl eating popcorn. She gave the girl a purple shirt with a red jumper. Every picture Violet colors must have the color purple in it.

Seth is two years old and loves to chatter. So, he first told me he was two. Then he told me some story about digging, and digging, and digging in the dirt and leaves. Then he chased some birds. The story ended with a dog on a skateboard. Somehow I missed the middle of the story...

Allyson and I caught up with each others lives. I always find hers much more interesting, for the kids are always up to something. Then we talk about the things the Lord has been teaching us or the lessons He often reminds us of. I hang up an hour later, my joy of talking with Allyson tinged with a bit of sadness as I think of all the afternoons I miss sitting in Allyson's living room, reading and playing with the kids, and just enjoying a day spent with my wonderful friend.

But until I book my next flight to New Hampshire, or the Lord opens up a door to return for good; the telephone works. And I am thankful for it.

Highlights of my Week

• You really can learn something new every day....those bills I file with Medicare? Each number on them means something!
• Matchmaking really can work...if you're interested in mattress salesmen.
• At baby showers one eats too much, laughs until it hurts and oohs and aahs over way too many adorable things.
• I moved in with a friend last Saturday. Now my newest neighbors are cows.
• Walking ithe park can be frightening...I've seen two snakes in two weeks.
• Buying a new tennis racquet is like buying a car - only worse.
• Finally, a way to eat candy corn that isn't so bad...mix it with peanuts!
• My housemate discovered this morning that if you leave the windows of your car open at night, the cat will sleep inside the car.
• Elections next month and early voting starts next week. Now if Governor Rick Perry will just stop putting his foot in his mouth every time he opens it...
• October in Texas...does this state not know what the beautiful season of autumn is?
  

Texas Thankfulness #3

Okay, so I can truly say I am thankful for my job, but anyone who knows me even a little knows I don't want to be doing this for the rest of my life...or even for the next two years. I've realized many times since I got here why I got burned out of office work the first time. The problem is, I'm good at it. I could do it in my sleep. Which is frustrating. Why can't I be good at something besides putting things in alphabetical order? Besides all that, the healthcare business is a racket. Sincere people try to do their jobs to help others while I wrestle with the government and insurance companies so they can. Who willingly goes into this? So, I'm not enthusiastic about what I do eight hours of the day, but I am very, very thankful for...

My co-workers. They have made this job worth while. They are supportive of me, help me understand things, laugh with me when I'm trying to read H&Ps (history and physicals) or write downs medications, and they truly appreciate what I do. They've become friends. And I'll give you a little glimpse of them.

Jay Harris is my boss and I had to learn to work with him more than any of the others. His daughter tells me he shouldn't be bothered before noon, and she's right. I've also learned if something happens to let him blow off the steam and then everything will be right as rain. And he takes me out to lunch before I leave town every time - I think to bribe me back. For he knows the day is coming when my resignation will be on his desk...and dreads it.

Dinah is the director of nurses We've become great friends since we're in the office the most. I hear all about her kids and grandkids, ask about the movies she's seen, and she helps me with my paperwork when I lag behind because of huge projects, and is there to answer all my questions. The other nurses are Jill, Debbie, Valerie, Angela, Laura, Mychelle and Gayle. Jill is a nut. She never fails to make me laugh and the stories she tells about her patient's families are like soap operas. Debbie is one of my favorites, probably because she is black and white. You don't mess with her, yet her patient's adore her. Valerie is the drama queen, which is hard to deal with at times, but you have to like her. Angela and Laura are the newest nurses and the youngest. Angela is several years older than me and has just moved to hospice from the ICU. She has lots of knowledge, but she doesn't spout it off and is willing to learn. Laura is the youngest at only 24, but she so sweet and kind the patient's adore her. Mychelle is the on-call nurse and the one I know the least, but she's very thorough which I love because I need to know things that happen when I'm in bed at night. As for Gayle, if you're going to die, you want her as your nurse. I have never met a sweeter woman in my life.

The others we work with are CNAs, which I have learned are a dime a dozen. Not a week passes when I don't get a call from a CNA looking for a job. And the ones we have seem to come and go, so I don't get to know them as well. But a few of them I know and like. Ellen and I talk almost every morning about whatever. Perla spoils me - and everyone else. Janelle you just have to like because she is so open and friendly. And Louise is worthy of admiration...for she is 71 years old and still does this job part time.

Then there are the chaplains and the social worker. It might surprise you to know that hospice companies are required by law to have a chaplain and do a spiritual assessment even if the patient refuses chaplain services. We have two: Mike and Bob. And they are as different as night and day in their personalities, although not their theology. Mike is loud and friendly. Bob is quiet and subdued. I enjoy chatting with both of them, often discussing Scripture and doctrine. Today Mike and I discussed divorce (which we agree on). And then there is Jane, who is about 27 and new at her job but very good at it. At times she seems a bit overwhelmed, but I would be too if I had her job. Still, she is very cheerful and helpful.

And, outside of the hospice business, there is a home care business in the office which is just starting up and I have helped with on occasion. Tori is the DON, RN and Administrator. A former hospice nurse, she spends most of the time spinning circles as she tries to get this business on its feet. But I have learned she wouldn't know what to do with herself if she wasn't dizzy. And she has one nurse, Julie, who I am still getting to know but is nice and a great asset to Tori.

Those are the people I work with. The people who keep me in this office. The people that make me laugh when I want to cry, teach me things I've no clue about, and help me to be a success. Praise God for great co-workers!

How strong is faith? Strong enough to be sent away from the one you love? To be given a small child to care for? To become someone you are not? To trust the one you love to do what is best for you even if you cannot understand?

Ruth Livingston’s faith has endured much. Her father’s ministry in New York City is difficult and now he has been falsely accused of a horrendous crime. For her protection; he sends her away, gives her an identity far from her own, and places in her care a young child. He promises to send for her as soon as he is acquitted yet when that day comes, tragedy follows.

Now Ruth must stand alone, keep the secrets entrusted to her, and hope no one will discover who she really is. But that becomes harder and harder to do with newspapermen searching for her. And who is the young man that lives along the river? Can she trust him? Or is he also trying to discover her secrets?

It is hard for us to understand the trials our loving God sends us, but how would our faith grow without them?

http://www.bethanyhouse.com/ME2/Audiences/dirmod.asp?sid=0477683E4046471488BD7BAC8DCFB004&nm=&type=PubCom&mod=PubComProductCatalog&mid=BF1316AF9E334B7BA1C33CB61CF48A4E&AudId=205F4A61B07648D98551934CA40DE116&tier=2

This book was provided by Bethany House Publishers for review purposes.