Faded Jeans- Remembering today... Dec 22

  I looked down at my jeans tonight and noticed how they've faded, and it just doesn't seem like that it could be that long since I bought them.  I remember the day well, it was last Dec 23, 2013 at the north Walmart in Bismarck.  I walked through the store like in a daze, it was the last place on earth I wanted to be.  I wanted to be home sobbing, but there were things that needed to be done, as Tyson and Sarah would be arriving later that day, and as usual I had left the grocery shopping to the last minute.  Before leaving the store, I decided I better pick up some new black jeans to wear, as my present pair were not very presentable.  So much of me just said, forget it, I'll do this later, I hate shopping, especially for clothes.  I'm sure some people would disapprove of me wearing jeans and my western jean jacket at your funeral, but you always liked that jean jacket, and you'd rather be in a pair of Wranglers any day to anything else.  I did it to honor you.

    I tried on a couple of pairs, and found one that fit, and made my way to the checkout.

    I still remember the checkout gal, asking, "How are you today?  Did you find everything?"  I just looked at her blankly and said "It's been a pretty tough last 24 hours."  I'm sure she thought I was  speaking of last minute Christmas shopping, but that was the furthest thing from my mind.  I didn't elaborated, cause frankly, I don't think she really cared, and how does one tell someone, that the love of your life just died last night, and now I'm faced with a life without him.

   I paid for my purchases, and drove home, fighting off the cold subzero cold outside, and a colder feeling on the inside.  The next nine days were a battle, not only emotionally, but physically, as the flu hit.  I can't remember the last time I was in bed for days with a high fever and vomiting.  There were times, when I had no clue what was going on outside that bedroom door.  I just knew I had to get well, as we wanted to make your celebration day special and meaningful.

    So here I sit a year later, still wearing those black jeans, even though they're fading and wearing out. I'm thinking it's maybe time to go shopping again, but you know how I hate shopping for clothes. 

     We made it down to Tulsa late last night,  this is the first time all the kids and I have been together since the funeral.  We went out to eat tonight and sat and told stories of Todd on the anniversary of his home coming while munching down the chips and salsa, his favorite.  I always teased Todd he was Mexican by taste bud.

    Thank you to all who have read my blogs this year, you know who you are, yup, all 32 of you!  LOL, but truly, thank you for taking the time to listen to my heart, as I've walked this journey without Todd.  Your encouraging comments are always helpful, and have given me strength to go on and continue.  

    Merry Christmas!

     

Embracing Life

    Part of healing a broken heart or life, is embracing where you're at but first you must accept it.  When you loose someone dear to you, at first just accepting it is hard.  You're in shock and it doesn't seem real that they're gone from this life.  You keep expecting them to show up, walk through the door, call you on the phone, but they can't cause they're no longer here on earth. 

    I remember the first time I experienced that was when Todd's Grandma died.  It was several months after her death, and I was in Selby for something, and I thought, "Oh, I'll go see Grandma while I'm here."  I think I even turned down her street before I remembered and realized, I can't see her, she's not here anymore.  I remember just feeling so sad, cause I had always enjoyed visiting with her in her home or later her apartment.

   With Todd's death, those feelings of accepting were of course way stronger.  He was part of my life every day for the last 32 years.  We were one.  I carry his name.  Suddenly half of me was gone.  There were days, I still had moments of looking for him, and realizing he wasn't going to be found.  He'd moved.  Gradually those 'moments' became less.  I had accepted he not here anymore.  That doesn't mean I don't miss him, oh my, I do.  It doesn't mean I don't love him, or never did, quite the opposite.  It's just coming to that point in my life, this is what happened, whether or not I like it or not.  I couldn't keep it from happening anymore than I can change that it did happen.  It's just so.  

    The next step is embracing it.  It's all wrapped up in accepting, but still different.  It's saying, this is what happened and this is how life is now.  It means dropping my expectations of how I thought things should be and adjusting to what is right now. It means giving up my old life the way it was and embracing that I am a widow and alone now.  It means picking up where I'm at and going forward, even though life is much different and often uncomfortable.  It means knowing that God can use even the worst circumstances in my life and turn them around for something good.  That's the hope we have in Christ.  He makes something beautiful out of our broken lives.  Cause face it no one has this life thing down perfect, we're all messed up in something, if you don't think so, then you're dead.  Heaven is the only place where we will finally get it right, but here on earth, we're full of blunders and mistakes and hurts and wounds that run deep. That's why Jesus came.  To save us, heal us, and set us free, and give us hope for a future.  Thank God!

    For me, it's embracing that I have to start all over again, and being ok with that.  It's embracing that my future may look quite different from my past.  It can't look the same, Todd's not here.  It's embracing that God is not through with me, and there really IS a future for me.  It's embracing who Kelley is without Todd, and knowing that, this Kelley may be quite different from the Kelley before.  (In the sense of what I do.  I am and will always be who I am.  I'm not trying to be anyone else. But life does take on a different dynamic without your spouse.)

    Embracing my present, is believing that someday, I will be able to look back and rejoice that I went through all of this, cause even though it might not have been a 'perfect' situation, God can still turn it around (when we give it to Him) and make it all part of His plan for my life.  Not that I believe Todd dying was part of God's ultimate plan, he went home way to early, but it is what happened all the same.  

    God's not on his throne, worried and stroking his beard (if he has one) wondering "Oh no, what are we gonna do with Kelley now?  Todd's not there anymore with her, the plan for her life is not able to be completed, Angels, Jesus, do we have plan B figured out yet?"  I just don't see God the worrying type.  I think He has this way more figured out than I can even imagine.  I'm so glad I can trust Him, cause he already knows the plan and all I have to do is trust Him, and He'll show me each step.  (This, of course is, way easier said than done, but still the same, it's true.)

    You might not have lost a spouse, but my guess, there's something in your life that's not 'perfect' and messed up.  Maybe you too need to first accept it, and then embrace it, and know that this happened, but it's not the end.  It reminds me of that familiar verse in Jer 29:11 "I know what I'm doing. I have it all planned out-plans to take care of you, not abandon you, plans to give you the future you hope for." (MSG)  I'm glad He holds my plans of my life.

   

The Lonely Widow

The other day, I wrote this little short fiction story.  I say fiction, because not every detail is so.  But at the same time, every emotion and part is something I've experienced, or something I've heard for some other widows I've met. Though written in third person, it has been my experience.

The Lonely Widow

by Kelley Reuer

   She sat staring out the window of her living room.  Watching an occasional car go by, a neighbor or visitor to someone else's home.  She sighed wishing she had someone coming today to just stop in and say hi, but her driveway was empty, and would probably remain so all day long.  

   It had just been so hard since he died, hard for her to journey out beyond her realm of comfort of home.  Here in the house  she was surrounded by memories, memories of him.  Oh how she wished she could talk to him one more time.  She'd often walk into the den where he use to sit reading to tell him something, only to see his chair empty.  Several times she had the thought, now where is he at?  Then it would come flooding back to her, he was gone, oh how could this ever have happened?

   Widow, she hated that word, it reminded her of a spider, and she hated spiders. Several times while checking in at the doctors office or some other office, she'd been asked "marital status." The first time she said widow, she felt like someone had knocked the air out of her lungs. The next time it didn't come any easier, that time, she felt socked in the stomach.  The person  asking, didn't even know the trauma she was going through.  She had always thought the only people who were ever widows were older gray haired ladies in their late 80's, somehow she didn't see herself as fitting that category.

   It was so hard to leave the house at first, when she did venture out of the home on Sunday mornings, she put on her best face, and pretended she was doing great, cause truly she was sometimes.  She wasn't lying, there were days she was encouraged, and felt life could be good and normal again.  But then she wondered what normal was anyway.  Isn't that just a setting on the dryer?  Nothing felt normal, nothing comfortable, except for her old slippers and bathrobe.  She looked down at the slippers and the hem of the bathrobe, and thought, It's late, I better get dressed, just in case I have a visitor today.

   Walking into her closet she again felt a tear flow down her cheek.  There they were, all his clothes, hanging silently in the closet never to be worn by him again.  She wished the boys would have taken a few more of them to keep as a remembrance of their father, but his western shirts just aren't their style.  That's ok, she thought, I know they hold the memories of their dad in more than just shirts.  She grabbed some clean clothes and got dressed, but before she left the walk-in closet, she leaned one more time into his shirts and just inhaled.  They still smelled like him, the scent she knew all so well.  She remembered the times when she disliked his scent, thinking why couldn't he keep cleaner.  "Oh what a fool I was," she thought to herself, I'd take him smelling like a manure pile just to have him back again. 

  Her thoughts flew to a conversation she had heard at church last week.  A couple of her friends complaining about this or that of their husbands, acting miffed at their lack of consideration to their needs.  She thought, 'What fools, don't they know what they have?!  They have a husband, I have none!"  She reminded herself, not to be too harsh on them though, cause she remembered days when she did the same. "No, I was the fool, I didn't appreciate what I had, until it was too late."  Was that really true?  Not really, she had always cherished him, and knew what a great guy he was and was so thankful to be his wife.  He often showered her with praise saying, "You're the best thing that has ever happened to me, I got the cream of the crop, the pick of the litter when I got you."  She chuckled remembering her comeback was always "No, you got the runt of the litter, Dear."  He'd laugh, and hug her tucking her under his chin, where she fit so snugly.

    She often teased him saying, "my lack of height is all your fault."   To which he would reply, "I don't see how I had anything to do with it."  "Of course you did.  You prayed and asked God for a wife who'd fit under your chin, so God answered your prayer and not mine.  I prayed and asked God to be taller.  I guess he knew I was destined to be your wife."  She chuckled again, and looked towards heaven and said, "You know God, you could have made him taller."  She swore she saw a smile on God's face, and she was ok with that, God made me just right, just like that saying goes, "It takes a long time to grow to perfection, but short people get there quicker."  

     She found 'her' chair and sat down and covered up with a snugly blanket to read.  She had a stock pile of books and of course her Bible.  What she really enjoyed lately, was reading though his Bible, oh of course the Words were the same as hers, but she loved reading his little notes here and there, she felt like she was reading his heart.  Often she'd turn to Proverbs 18:22 "He who finds a wife finds a good thing, and obtains favor of the LORD."   She loved seeing his little smile face and her name by that scripture.  She had often remarked to him when he drew attention to that scripture, "Why does God call me a 'thing?' I'm not sure I like being called a thing."  He'd always reply, "Well, you're the best thing that ever happened to me" with his silly cowboyish smile. 

   Oh the memories of him were flooding her now, suddenly she was pulled out of her memory daydream by the dog licking her hand.  "Hey, old boy, you need to go outside?  Ok, come on, lets go."  She walked the dog to the door, and opened it for him, and he ran outside to do his job.  She'd been so irritated at that old dog, but at the same time she couldn't let him go.  He'd been 'his' dog, and letting go of him, would be kind of like him dying all over again.  She sighed as she looked around her house, and the trail of dog hair everywhere.  Gonna have to vacuum  again today, it was a daily occurrence with this hair dropping dog.  There were days, when she was so thankful to have the old boy still, like when he came up and snuggle his head into her lap when she sat crying missing her man so much.  He was at least a good companion of sorts, and I guess it's not too bad being needed by someone or something, even it's only to be let out to go potty or fill his food dishes. 

    Needed, that's what she struggled with.  Was she still needed?  The kids were gone now, and so was he.  He had needed her so much in his dying days, he relied on her for everything, to help feed him, to bath him, to dress him, to make sure he was safe.  It was constant tiresome work, and it had taken a toll on her too, not only physically but emotionally.    She was broken, as she watched him slip away.  Her heart was being torn by an unseen force and she couldn't stop it no matter how much she prayed for it to stop.  How she had poured her heart out in prayer during that time, many times, late into the night.  The heavens seemed barred, and answers did not come.  Even though, things didn't turn out the way she had hoped, she knew God was still there, holding her in his arms.  It's not like she had any physical evidence of it, but she just knew inside, He was still there.  Sometimes though she sure wish God would show up with 'skin on' and let her know He still cared.  

    Several times since he died, God had showed up with 'skin on' as a friend who she hadn't heard from in years, had called just to tell her she was thinking of her and praying for her, or a kind note had arrived in the mail.  All of these she cherished and knew it was God's way of saying he still loved her, but it didn't stop the loneliness.  Strange how you can even be in a crowd of people and still feel lonely, still feel useless.  

     "I've got to find purpose," she  told her self, over and over, maybe there's something I can do today to encourage someone else.  What though?... She sat thinking and praying for sometime, nothing came at that moment, so she got up and went to the door, and let the dog back in the house.   "Come on old boy," the dog dashed into the house, glad to escape the cold of the chilly winter weather.  She filled his water dish, and replenished the food bowl.  "There, that should make you happy for a while."  She petted his head, and gave a good scratch behind the ears.

     She went back to her chair and curled up reading for the rest of the afternoon, occasionally stopping to pray for someone that came to mind, or let the dog out again. At last she looked up from her book and noticed it was growing dark.  How did that happen she thought?  "I've been here all afternoon reading?! Oh my, I think I forgot to even eat!"  She got up and rummaged through the fridge to find a few left overs and warmed them up, sitting at the table all alone.  Cooking for herself she found uninviting, but she didn't like eating out alone either.  Occasionally she'd cook a meal, then keep eating the left overs all week.  Oh, how she hated eating alone.  Life just wasn't suppose to be like this.  She had dreamed of them growing old together, sitting together on the porch reminiscing of the 'old days', but now she sat alone.  

     After eating, she cleaned up her plate, and went back into the living room, and stood at the window watching the last few rays of sunlight as it set on the horizon.  She sighed again, and thanked the Lord for the beautiful sunset.  She remembered her favorite verse, Psalms 113:3, "From the rising of the sun to the going down of the same the name of the Lord is to be praised." She knelt down by her chair and lifted her hands in worship, and sang a few simple worship songs to the Lord.  She stopped, and just listened, it was so quiet in the house.  Even the cats purr was hardly noticeable.  "Be Still and Know that I am the Lord," was ringing in her ears.  A silent tear rolled down her cheek as she began to hum that simple song sung on their wedding day.  

    After some time of sitting in the silence, she got up and started walking to the bed room, 'might as well go to bed early tonight' she thought.  She saw her cell phone laying on the coffee table, and picked it up.  She thought for a moment, it would be so nice to talk to someone, but I don't want to be a bother, I know I'll start crying again.  I'm sure my friends are tired of my tears, they all have their families and husbands to take care of,  I know they said 'call any time' but I'm not sure they really meant it.  She put the phone back on the charger, though it hardly needed it today, as it hadn't been used at all.  

     She looked back into the living room and decided to vacuum up all that dog hair before heading to bed.  She straightened a few things up and looked around her silent house, well, there's not anyone but me to see it anyway, so she headed to the bedroom.

    As  she slipped her jammie pants and shirt on, she thought back on a conversation with a friend recently.  Her friend had never married, and was that strong independent business woman type.  She made a passing comment  "What's the big deal, I've been alone my whole life, and I like it.  You'll get use to it, eventually you'll love it, no one to tell you what to do. " As she pulled her toothbrush out of the holder she wondered if that would be so.  The point is, she'd never been alone. She went straight from high school into college with a roommate, then into a marriage.  They'd always been together, and she liked that.  She liked being at home, raising the kids, and really had no desire to be in that corporate world that her friend so loved.  That doesn't mean I'm not as smart as her, but my priorities have just been different.  But now with her funds dwindling, she knew that whether she liked it or not, she'd have to find some job out there in the dog eat dog work world. She was scared beyond words, and didn't know how to tell anyone that.  She was a grown adult, what could be so scary about getting a job?  It was like a foreign country to her though, she shuddered, and sent up a quick prayer, "Lord, you're gonna have to help me."  

    As she put her toothbrush back into the holder, and headed for the bed, she pulled back the covers on her side of the bed.  She looked over at his pillow, she couldn't hardly get herself to ever lay on 'his' side of the bed.  It was just too painful right now.  She propped up the pillows along the head board and grabbed the book she had been reading all afternoon.  Maybe I can get it done before I fall asleep.  

    Time passed and she closed the book, and glanced at the alarm clock on the dresser, almost midnight, she was shocked, where did the time go?  She rearranged her pillows and snuggled down in the covers, but just because her head was on the pillow, didn't mean sleep would come easy.  It wasn't long before her pillow was wet with the tears that slid down her face. 

     "Lord, I know you said you'd never leave me, but I'm so lonely. When will this ache leave? When will I find my purpose?  When will this hurt go away?" she quietly prayed.  Eventually her tears faded into the land of sleep and dreams.

  She dreamed she was walking down a road, but this time, she was walking all alone.  The road seems long, and empty, and desolate.  She continued walking, walking, walking, then she noticed there was someone walking beside her.  She hadn't noticed him at first because she was looking down while walking.  When she turned to see who it was walking beside her, she saw that it was the Lord, though she had never seen his face before, she recognized him instantly. She stopped walking and knelt down at his feet, and whispered his name, "Jesus."  He gently touched her head, and then reached down and took her hand and lifted her up. 

"My daughter arise, and let me continue to walk with you."  As she arose, she looked into his eyes and saw love like she'd never seen before.  "Continue? My Lord?"  she asked.  "Yes, my daughter, I've been with you ever step through this dark valley, and I will continue to walk with you ever step for the rest of your journey.  I take your hand now as your husband, your comfort, your provider, you have no need to fear the future, for I will always be there with you."  

   She took his hand and they walked on, continuing the long journey together, no longer was she lonely, but realizing she was walking with the one who loved her and the one whom she loved. 

  

   

     

    

And God Gave Us the Dog

Quito and I at Todd's gravesite on Todd's birthday sharing a few tears and words of love.

There seems to be something that God put in dogs for them to sense when someone is hurting. I know there are dogs who can even tell when someone is about to seizure or blood sugar crash and these well trained dogs alert their masters.  Quito isn't a well trained dog for anything except maybe moving cattle, at which he was excellent at. Todd said he was the best cattle dog we had had so far.  There's no cows for Quito right now, and his life is pretty boring, but he does one thing that always surprise me.  Whenever I'm sad or hurting or crying, he comes and finds me, and lays his head on my lap.  How does he know?  Sometimes I just hug that stinky old dog, and cry into his smelly fur.  He still smells and stinks like dogs do, and has bad breath, and leaves hair all over my house, but he often knows more that any human around, and offers what others don't, a comfort of a those big brown eyes looking at me saying, "what's wrong? can I help you?"  He just lets me cry.  He doesn't fix anything, for somethings can't be fixed, but he's there for me.  

My Last Kiss and The Gift to You

I don't have a picture of the last kiss, so I thought I'd have one of the 'early' kisses. 

    The movie world, would like us to believe, that the most important 'kiss' between a man and  a woman is their first kiss.  When the flame first gets lit.  I beg to differ with that thinking.  I have come to realize it's not the first kiss, but your last kiss that says more of the love you have. At least that's how it was with Todd and I.

    It was the weekend before he died, and Kristi and I were up in Tioga seeing him.  It was always hard.  Hard to see him like that.  Every time we went, more of him was gone, every time  I saw him I went through a shock.  Even though I knew how bad he was getting, each time it shocked me.  Todd wasn't walking well, and needed assistance or a wheel chair.  When we visited, we would take him to one of the 'family rooms' they had in the nursing home, so we could all be together.  I'd sit and sing to him, or read him scriptures, sometimes I'd read him what I'd written in the "Adventures of Todd and Kelley."  He'd often fall asleep in the recliner, and Kristi and I would read or write, and wait for him to wake up again.  On that Saturday, he had just woke up from a nap, and wanted to walk around the room.  I was assisting him, to make sure he didn't fall.  He walked over to the little 'kitchen' area of the room where there was some cupboards and a sink, and he started opening the cupboard doors.  I told him, I don't think we should get into their cupboards, and pointed out some things on the counter that might be ok for him to 'play' with.  This is the area of the nursing home, where they stored a lot of their seasonal decorations.  Todd started pushing me a little bit, and it made me a little nervous, cause I wasn't sure what he was wanting.  He got me pushed into the corner, and then he bent down (remember I'm quite a bit shorter then he was) and kissed me.  I melted, and just held him close.  The man who sometimes forgot I was even his wife, and couldn't remember my name anymore, still knew that he loved me and that I was special to him.  I told him again, how much I loved him.  

   Kristi and I were talking about this the other day and she says she remembers it well, as she was sitting in the room with us and watching it all transpire.  Her dad one last time, kissing her mom.  

   I know I kissed him good bye on Sunday before we left, but that kiss doesn't hold my heart like when he reached out to me.  I guess unless you've dealt personally with someone with dementia you probably don't understand what it means to have them reach out to you.  When they recognize and actually remember for a moment who you are, it means the world.  

   I cherish the love I have for Todd and the love he had for me.  God knew what he was doing when he brought us together.  

   Miss you so much Todd.  

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This morning in honor of his birthday I wrote this little ditty.  I know my poetry isn't perfect, but it's still from the heart.

Gift to You

I can't give you a gift up in Heaven

You already have all that you need

For you are home with our Heavenly Father

Life eternal you have received.

 If I could pass through that heavenly veil

Just a moment to give you a gift

I'd send you a hug and kiss

And tell you how much you are missed

Happy Birthday in Heaven my dear

I love you so very much

I look forward to that day when we meet again

When I join you and our Savior we love. 

  

Cowgirl Up! and the Widow's mite

My friend Melanie, Me and her friend Debbie.  This was a major bucket list check off for Debbie to see Mt Rushmore.

    This past weekend I met up with some friends from Colorado and Maine, in Rapid City, SD kind of a midway point for us.  We had a wonderful time visiting and seeing Mount Rushmore.  On my way home on Saturday I stopped and visited with my brother-in-law,  always good to see Todd's brother and catch up on his life, and reminisce about Todd.  On my drive home, I was fighting sleep, I was super tired, due to the fact that I hadn't slept well, cause I wasn't feeling all that great.  By the time I got to Dickinson even though less than two hours from home, I pulled into a hotel to sleep.  It was a "Welcome to the Oil Field" shock on the price, but like my brother-in-law told me in his text, "better an expensive bed, than in the ditch somewhere."   Since I was in Dickinson on a Sunday morning, I decided I'd go visit "Break Forth Bible Church."  Todd and I have known Pastors Larry and Sally Phalen for many many years, and have always enjoyed their down to earth ministry.  Their love for God and enthusiasm is contagious!   What I didn't expect was to end up as Larry's sermon illustration.  He was preaching on "Cowboy Up!"  well, actually he was preaching on "Girding up the loins of your mind," but in cowboy terms that's 'Cowboy up!"  You can hear Pastor Larry's message at www.breakforthbiblechurch.com and look under livestream and archived messages for Oct. 26th.  I had to chuckle a little cause I was writing something down he had said in my notebook, when he asked me if he could pick on me for a little bit.  I looked up, totally missing what he had just said, and it slowly started to sink in he was talking to me and about me.    He basically shared a little how I've had to learn to Cowgirl Up, even in the worst of times, and still hang on to Jesus.  Like most new widows I've had to learn to do things by myself, there's that part where you pull yourself up by the boot straps and say, "I'm pressing on, I will not be defeated and I will not quit." There's the part when you have to have the revelation that 'greater is He that is in me than he that is in the world', or how I like to say it, "I'm bigger on the inside than I am on the out."  It's not me that's big on the inside, it's the God who lives in me that's big!

   

 This morning I awoke to the phrase "Giving beyond the widow's mite" rolling around in my thoughts.   I started thinking about that widow in Mark 12:41-44 and Luke 21:1-4.  Jesus was sitting by where the offerings were put in and just watching.  I've got news folks, he still watching what people give. He observed people putting in all sorts of amounts.  But along comes this poor widow, she puts in a couple of coins, and it's said were worth only pennies (in our currency), but Jesus commended her, and said she gave more than everyone else.  I'm sure his disciples were shocked. What?  a few pennies is more than all these lavish gifts?  It's can't be!  But Jesus drives his point home by saying, "They gave out of their wealth, but she out of her poverty gave everything she had."  It's not the size of the gift, but the size of the heart of the gift.  She gave all.  She was trusting that as she gave, God would supply for her when she had nothing left. Jesus was looking at her heart, and she gave all.

     I've never understood people that don't like to give or that are stingy.  They just make my head go 'tilt.' I can't understand living that way.  I've enjoyed giving and love to give.  There was one time Todd and I gave everything we had in an offering. It was kind of like that widows mite.  You'll laugh, but it was one dollar.  That was all the money we had to our name (although I think we may have had $15 dollars in a savings account that we had set aside, saving up to go to Minneapolis to hear TL Osborn preach).    I had received the dollar from my Grammie Gray that day.  I had painted her a picture of my little niece and had mailed it to her, and she sent me a dollar to cover the postage.  Todd and I at the time, were working at a ministry where it was volunteer, we had no income what to speak of.  Although our food and lodging was provided for, we still had a car payment to meet each month.  I don't know how, but we never missed a payment on that car, and I'd have to say it was all God.  Back to my dollar story; we went to church that evening and when the offering plate went around I remember thinking, I might as well give the one dollar we have, cause it won't buy us much anyway, and I'd rather seed it, than spend it.  After the service some friends asked us if we'd go out to 'coffee' with them.  My first thought was I sure hope they're paying, cause we don't have any money left to pay.  Thankfully they did pay, and we had a wonderful visit with them.  As the husband was paying the bill at the restaurant, he slipped his hand under the table and shoved a check in my hand.  When I looked at it, it was for $100!  I looked up with a the most quizzical look, like what's this for?  He said, "We just wanted to bless you."  We were blessed!  I do have to say this is the only time in my life, within hours God blessed us 100 times what we have given, but God saw past the amount and saw our hearts.  We took that $100 and the $15 in savings and went and heard TL Osborn preach, but that's a whole 'nother story.

    What is it to give past the widows mite?  What do you give when you've given all?  You give your heart.  You give your time.  You give your talents.  You just give all.  I have found in life the best way to solve selfishness is to just give.   

    There's the giving that has nothing to do with money.  It's the giving of your heart and life.  I found myself there a lot taking care of Todd the last few years.  I have journal entry after journal entry crying out to God, "I can't do this anymore," but I did.  I kept caring for him, I kept loving him.  Even when it came to the point, where I couldn't physically do it any longer, his care needs were becoming beyond my ability, and my own health was breaking down.  I still gave what I had. There wasn't a lot of Kelley left by then, but I gave him everything I had.  Even when I had to surrender his physical care to health care professionals, and my heart broke in two again, I was there for him every minute I could be.  I gave to Todd even in my 'poverty of strength' I still gave him all I had.  If you don't believe me, I challenge you to go care for someone failing of dementia or Alzheimer's, and do that 24/7 all by yourself, and see how long you last.   It's not an easy job.  My heart goes out to the many people who are in that position.  There is no break, there is no relief, it's 24/7 care, that most people have no clue how hard it really is.  But love still keeps giving.   Walking through it all I've learned how to Cowgirl Up and know that the greater one lives on the inside of me, and He never quits or gives up, so neither should I.

Now I lay me down...

This morning, I awoke early and did some reading, and then for some reason, I laid my head down on Todd's pillow.  I've rarely touched it since he died, or even since he went into the hospital.  As I laid on his pillow missing him, my thoughts started rhyming.  So I sat up and wrote this down in my notebook.  

I've rarely pulled the covers back

Except to change the sheets

Your pillow I left untouched 

Beside me when I sleep

But this morning in the early light 

I gently laid my head

Upon your pillow empty still

Wishing to hear your heart beat.

I heard no sound, yes, I know

For that's impossible to hear

I only heard the rushing cars

And traffic way too near.

You're not here to warm my feet

When they are freezing in the night

Or scratch my forever itchy back

Or pray my nightmares take flight

My life is so utterly different now

WIthout you by my side

I'm having to live each new day

Trusting in His grace to abide

I've been finding out who I really am

The Kelley deep down inside

And all the things He put in me

Uncovering His plan for my life

Well, the alarm clock finally went off

Though I've been awake for hours

Reading through the piles of Bibles and books

Finding comfort in this early morning hour.

Love at the bottom of a stock tank

Photo credit to Susanna Dagley

 I have this alarm clock in my bedroom that Todd and I have had for years.  I mean years! I can hardly remember not having it.  I believe my Mom and Dad gave it to us on one of those first Christmas.  It has really big numbers so we both could see it at night, but it has one problem.  It is alway running fast, it's always ahead of time.  Every once in a while, I have to reset it, as it's 5, 10, 15, or creeping up even more minutes ahead of the actual time.  But for the most part I'd leave it till it was really bad.  Why? Because for the most part, Todd was always running behind.  It kind of runs in his family, and was the standard Reuer joke, as to how late members of the family were going to be for any holiday gathering.  Todd was no exception.  He always had more to do than time allowed, but he thought he could get it done anyway, thus making him untimely late.  So I'd leave the clock a few minutes ahead, knowing that was at least giving him a head start.

    I on the other hand, am the kind of person, if I arrive 10 mintues early, I'm late.  I hate showing up at the last minute, or God forbid, actually late for something!  Life called for adjustment when I married Todd, lots of adjustments!  We eventually compromised, and would arrive somewhat on time.  This drove my family nuts as they always wanted to know days ahead what time we would be arriving, what could I tell them?  When we get there, we'll be there!  

    Just yesterday though, I got a message from a young lady that showed me Todd wasn't always late, sometimes he was just on time.   This young lady and her husband work on a ranch where Todd and I use to work many years ago.  They actually live in the house that Todd and I lived in.  Her husband was out fixing a stock tank and had to drain it to get it fixed.  When the tank was drained is when they found it.  Formed in the cement was a big heart with the initials; TR + KR  Romans 5:5.   I just sat and cried when I read her message.  Romans 5:5 was our wedding scripture.  "...For the love of God is shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost who is given unto us."  Yah, it looks like Todd was the one who poured the cement for that stock tank, and he wanted it remembered for all time, the love we have for each each other and why.  Because God had poured his love into our hearts.    He wasn't late on that one, he was right on time.  Now almost 20 years later, from when he did that,  it was a reminder to me on how much he loved me.  I wish they would have taken a picture of it for me, but the tank has been refilled so that's not possible, but the love note hidden for years at the bottom of a stock tank was found.  Some people just use sticky notes on the bathroom mirror, Todd wrote it in cement! 

Ambused

Lovely picture of Todd and I when we were dating. And yes, his hat was too small for me, which means I have a really big head, Todd wore a 7 3/8 hat size and that's too small for me!  Love our glasses.  (I couldn't think of a picture of an ambush, so I thought I'd post an old one of us instead.  It really has nothing to do with this blog.)

Ambush- noun- 1. an act or instance of attacking unexpectedly from a concealed position.

    A noun is a person, place or thing, or idea, so in the case of the word ambush, it's a thing.  In the last 10 months I've been experiencing it, but until tonight I didn't have a name for it.  So let me explain.

    It's called an ambush of grief.  I find myself going along doing quite well, when all of a sudden something hits you, a song, a smell, a picture, and you're hit in the gut with grief.  I got ambushed last night.  No one else knew (I don't think anyway), they probably just thought I was being touched by God in some way, as the tears ran down my face.

   I was sitting at a Concert at a church up the street and listening to a Gospel group called Three Bridges. (By the way they are really good!)  Well, Three Bridges had gotten wind of the fact that the pastor of that church and his family sang together, so they asked them to do a song.  They sang a wonderful song called "I Get To." (I think that was the name anyway), but then I got ambushed.  It wasn't even the song, it was just hearing this husband and wife and son sing together.  I began to weep, for Todd and I use to sing together a lot (never could talk the kids into singing with us though).  I sat there listening to them sing, knowing here is another loss for me.  Yes, I have realized it before this, especially when I've song a couple of the songs that Todd and I use to do together this summer, and realized I can't sing them in the same key anymore, cause Todd always sang melody, and his voice was much higher than mine, so now, I'm dropping the key down to adjust to my voice.  But there's no more harmony for me on those songs, I'm singing solo now, in more ways than one.   

    There's no warning to an ambushment.  If you knew it was coming you wouldn't be ambushed.  This isn't the first time I've been an ambushed by grief in the last 10 months, and I'm sure it won't be the last.  It always hits when you don't expect it, of course that's why it's called an ambush.

    There's other times when it's finding something he wrote, or seeing a picture of him I'd forgotten about.  Bamm!  I get hit!  There's those times when I've seen someone that we haven't seen for a long time, and I have this thought I can't wait to tell Todd that I saw them, and then realize I can't, he's not here.  

    Although I know I'll probably get ambushed again, I'm also confident in this: …"I do not have to be afraid, for He has ransomed me. He has called me by name, and I am his.  When I go through the deep waters, He will be with me. When I go through rivers of difficulty, I will not drown. When I walk through the fire of oppression, I will not be burned up, the flames will not consume me." (Isaiah 43:1-2- my Paraphrase)  

  God has proven himself to me over and over again. He is still with me, even when I'm ambushed and taken by surprise, he walks with me through it.   

The Locket (A short story)

THE LOCKET

(The following is a short fiction story I wrote, loosely based on Todd's and my life.)

    She could hardly wait, to get the package open, but she restrained herself and carefully removed the Christmas wrapping paper.  The box was small, and her heart was racing, thinking of all the special things that come in small packages.  When the last bit of paper was removed, she slowly opened the box, hoping to find that diamond ring, and maybe a marriage proposal, but as the lid came off, she found a small gold book-shaped locket, on a golden chain.  Her heart sank, but she lifted her head, and smiled at the giver.

   "Open it up," he said, with anticipation in his voice.  She opened the small little book, and found carefully put in each side of the locket, two pictures; one of her, and one of him.  "Oh how sweet!" she exclaimed, and this time really meaning it.  She thought of how much work he must have done, searching for just the right picture and then carefully putting it into this tiny book.  He'd never been one for expensive gifts, so she knew the thought into this one was great.  "I love it," she proclaimed, and really meaning it, as tears began to form in the corner of her eyes.

   "I was hoping you would, " he shyly said, "Cause right now there's a picture of us each individually, but I hope that someday, there will be a picture of us together, you in a pretty white dress and me in a suit."  He was nervously reaching into his pocket and pulling out a smaller box, and as he held it in his shaking hand, he dropped to his knees and continued, "You see, our lives are separate now, and the story is just beginning, but I'd was wondering if you'd like to continue to write the story of our lives together forever."  He opened the small box, and enclosed, was the diamond ring she had so hoped for.  It was small, but sparkled with just as much dazzle as a one carat diamond.  

   With tears in her eyes, she said, "Yes, I want to write my life story with you, we'll be together till we're old and gray, and the pages in our book is full of our life together.  Yes, yes, yes!!"  She flung herself into his arms and they both hugged and cried, knowing there was soon to be a new story written of their lives together.

    Six months later, she came down the aisle at the church in that long white dress, and he looked so handsome in that white tuxedo, although maybe a little bit uncomfortable.  Today they would write the first page of their story together, it was filled with laughter and tears of joy.  They knew this was going to be a best seller.

    On their first month anniversary, he presented her with a tiny little picture to put in the locket,  no longer two separate pictues, but one.  They both smiled as they put the wedding picture in the locket and he hung it around her neck again.  They were one, the story was getting so good.

    Each year on their anniversary, she tried to make sure they took a picture of them together.  She'd place it across from the wedding picture in the other little 'frame' in the locket.  When the children began coming, she'd replace it every year with a family picture.  The story was growing, and sometimes the pages were stained with peanut butter and jelly finger prints.  It really didn't matter, cause the finger prints could be washed off, but they really just made the story stick together all the more.  Before they knew it, the kids had left home and now the yearly picture was just the two of them together again, but they were still young and had lots more story to write in this book together.

   Neither of them planned it, nor did they expect it to happen, but tragedy struck.  Their story cut short and when the anniversary came, instead of their yearly picture, she sat weeping by a casket. The locket hung around her neck, with last years anniversary picture in it, and of course their long faded wedding picture.   Their story was over, but the love never ends, always remember by her and her little golden book-shaped locket.

What I've learned from my kids

(Kristi and Philip ready for take off at the Oympic Training Center)

   All though life, we're learning, education doesn't stop at a high school graduation, it's actually just beginning.  Sometimes, I've been surprised who I've learned from and what I've learned from them.  My children for one, are ones I've learned a lot from.  Even when they were small children, I remember learning lessons in patience, perseverance, prayer, unconditional love and consistency.  As they've grown older, I feel I've continued to learn from them, as I hope they still learn from me too.

   As my children have stepped into adulthood, I've been amazed at how God has worked in their lives and the things they've learned and have in turn shared with me.  It was while in Colorado this past month, that Philip shared something with me that so blessed me, and I've learned so much from it.

   We were talking about the times in our lives when we feel we've failed, that Philip made this awesome statement. "There's really only winning and learning in life.  If you've failed, it just means you never learned from your mistakes.  If you've learned from the mistakes, then it's not a failure, you've grown."  The more I thought on that, the more I liked it and believe it is true.    We all make mistakes, if we didn't we wouldn't be human.  There was only one perfect man and his name was Jesus.  The rest of us are VERY human and make mistakes consistantly, but that doesn't mean we're failures.  Like Philip said we can learn from those mistakes and turn a failure into a learning situation and gain from it, making it a win.

   Kristi and I were discussing this on the way to a wedding this past weekend in South Dakota.  I asked her, in light of what Philip said, what have you learned in all that we went through in the past couple of years. (Not that it was a failure or a mistake, just a VERY hard time.)  She said, "I learned, we can do anything."  I asked, "How or why do you come to that conlusion?"  Kristi replied, "If we can survive Dad's dementia, and all we went through, there isn't anything we can't do."  Wow! What an attitude!  In a situation that could make a lot of kids bitter and angry, she's using it as a spring board, to knowing God can get us through anything. 

    I learned from my kids, what the Bible has said for a very long time; "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me." Phil 4:13

Memories in a Box

 I was walking through my very messy garage tonight, wondering how in the world the mess happened, as it use to be so neat and clean, when I glanced up to the shelves where I have storage tubs of various things, such as Christmas decorations, etc.  It was the tub labeled "Memories" that caught my eye.  How do I put memories in a box?  Do they belong in a box?  Is that the only place for memories?  Is it good to keep memories?  Ok, now you're wondering how I got all that just from looking at a storage tub?  Me too!

    I know if I opened up that tub (and I think there are a couple with that label) I would be flooded with memories. Those things all have an attachment of some sort that meant something in my life, or the life of my kids or Todd.  What they really are, are land marks of defining moments in my life.  They represent something in my life of significance that I wanted for some reason to remember.  We all have them of some sort.  I'm a great keeper of those kind of things, ok, some people just call me a sentimental pack rat, that's probably true too, but sometimes it's so fun to go back and remember those things.  Especially the good things  but then again, I don't usually keep something that reminds me of a bad memory.  

    I know in one of those tubs is a coloring book from when I was about 5 years old.  I've kept it all these years, because there's a picture colored by my friend Joanie who lost her life when she was about 6 years old when she drown in the Missouri river. Yes, it's a sad memory, but it's also a good memory, for Joanie was my best friend at that time.  I know I have things like some trophies I won (those are pretty few), and music I wrote as a kid, even a few programs from a concert or two that I sang in.  There's pictures my kids drew when they were little, and a few love letters from Todd.

    God told Israel many times to set up a landmark or memorial, for them to remember what God had just done for them, this is quite similar to keeping a small memento of a precious memory.   So I guess I do have memories in a box, and I think it's good.  Sometimes we remember all those good things that God has done in our lives and it lifts us back up to faith that He has good things in the future for us too.

    I also have memories on my walls, in the form of photos and orginial paintings. Even the few prints I have are ones from people I know personally or had great significance into why we purchased it.  (Such as my three G Harvey prints purchased through Focus on the Family)

    I also have a few things that I hold on to, that remind me of promises that God has given me.  They don't mean anything to anyone else but me, but they're things I've been holding on to for a long time, and I know God is faithful, and someday, I will see that promise completely fulfilled in my life, but until that day comes, I have a reminder that God said that to me.

    As for the mess in my garage,  some stuff is left from the garage sale, and some left from Philip coming home from college. As for what to do with it, I'm not sure. sigh... Some day the "I got to reclaim my garage space lion" will arrive, and things will find a home somewhere, you'll probably hear me roaring. 

Every Second Counts

    Most days, none of us think about a 'second' really mattering. We never give it a passing thought, that our 'seconds' are ticking away, other things are filling our minds. 

     I'm sure a Bull Rider is thinking long and hard about those mere 8 seconds, which I think could seem like an eternity.  But I've never ridden a bull so I don't know first hand. 

      I've watched my sons and my husband many times Calf Rope, Team Rope, etc, and a mere fraction of a second can be a win or loose situation.   I remember Tyson missing  the buckle at a couple of rodeos by a hundredth of a second, those are always hard ones to swallow. But I've never roped a calf, so I've only experienced that through watching them.

      Then there's the basketball game, when it's tied, and someone sends off a long three pointer, and everyone is holding their breath hoping it was in the air before that buzzer sounded. Swish, it goes in, and the crowd goes wild, but the referee calls it no good. I remember Mobridge loosing a Regional Tournament in a similar situation.  But I've never played basketball, so I don't know that feeling first hand, only from the stand point of a fan.

     There is those track meets, when running the hundred meter dash, a second can be a HUGE difference.  But then again, I've never run track, I've only watched it from a spectators standpoint.

      I could go on and on listing things that matter in life by a mere second.  Last week I experienced a mere second happening, that still has me shaking, and thanking God all at the same time.

     Kristi and I were returning from Montana, where she had spent the last two months, when an 'every second counts' situation occurred. We had just arrived in Bismarck, and were taking the exit to our house (Expressway Exit), when we stopped at the red light and waited our turn.  Kristi was at the drivers wheel, and I was just reading a text message, the time was 10:42 pm.  Kristi got the green light to go, glanced over at the north bound lane, and turned north towards home.  I can't say I saw a thing, I was looking down reading, Kristi said she saw it from the corner of her eye.   I didn't see anything, but I did hear it.  A whoosh sound behind us, then a screech of tires and then an explosion that was so loud, it hurt your ears.  Somewhere in that split second I looked up to see a car spinning towards us backwards, and I think I yelled to Kristi to get over, which she was in the process of doing anyway.  The spinning cars wheel hooked on the median between the highway lanes and came to a stop.  Kristi jumped out of the car after stopping and ran to the car, to see if the driver was alive.  I was staring at my cell phone, wondering in those split seconds how in the world do I make it just be a phone!!  Quit laughing, I may have only questioned for a second or two, but I just couldn't think straight.  As I finally dialed 911, and was getting out of the car, I then saw the second vehicle, pushed back up the overpass about 80 feet.  I'm trying to remain calm, but not doing a good job explaining to the 911 operator where the accident is at, I'm shaking so bad I can hardly hold on to the phone.  I finally get it straight where the accident is at, and she said help was on the way.

    Two other ladies pulled up behind us, they had been in the north bound lane waiting at the light, and had saw the whole thing.  Another man (who I called, the man in the blue shorts) also pulled up, he had been behind Kristi and I on the off ramp, but saw the guy coming when he started to go, and had stopped and backed up.   Another lady in a nurses uniform came running up, and began checking on the victims of the wreck.  The passenger in the second car was in really bad shape.  She actually got them both out of the vehicle, as their car was smoking, and she was worried about it exploding.   Those two young men, had just been sitting at the stop light waiting for it to turn green, when they were hit head on at 80 mph.  The driver kept asking, "What happened? What happened?"  I was amazed that they were all still breathing.  Airbags had been what had saved them.

   Then police began arriving, and checking on the victims, till the ambulance and fire trucks arrived with the trained professionals. And as Kristi told me later, she suddenly has a great appreciation for those emergency workers, as she had no idea what to do other than ask them if they were ok, and tell them help was on the way, I felt the same way.

   It was when the police began asking for our statements, that I over heard 'the man in the blue shorts' tell the officer, "He just missed that white car, and then hit that car sitting at the light. He was in the south bound lane, heading north, and going about 80." I got to thinking, wait a minute, we're the only white car here!!  I talked to the man in the blue shorts after the officer left, and said, did you see him almost miss us?  He said, "Yes, he just missed you."  We hadn't even seen him coming.  A second or two later, and we would be talking a different story.

    In the next couple of days, I would hear from several people, that they were praying for us on Sunday, and praying specifically for safety.  A couple of them told me they had been praying for days, as they felt something was wrong.  Oh the power of prayer!!  Never ever think that prayer is weak, or not needed.  Kristi and I both knew, someone had been praying. There was divine protection.  

   Later in the week, I was driving to the airport to pickup Philip. (He flew home for a couple of days for his birthday)  I had to drive through that intersection.  Somehow, it just seemed eerie at night to me.  I began to again thank the Lord for his divine protection.  Then I had this terrible thought; what if we had been hit?  I knew I would be dead, as it would have been a side hit for us, and no airbags will save you then.  I knew I would have died on the scene.  My thoughts went to Kristi, and thinking how awful it would be for her to loose her mother as well as her father.  I again said a prayer of thanks for our safety.  But then I heard inside me, "No, you both would gone.  But it's not your time, you're not done."

   I'm not done.  God has more for me in this life.  Someday, I will get to go to heaven, but not now, there's work to be done here.  There's life to be lived.  I'm so thankful for that!

   Even at the accident scene that night, I looked at Kristi and asked, "Did we pray today before we left? We always do, but I don't remember if we did today."  She said, "I don't know, I think we did, but I KNOW somebody did."  And God answered.  He protected. When I asked her that, I heard inside me, "I've got this."  I know it was God's way of saying to me, that He had us covered, cause someone took the time to pray.

     I still pray for the young men involved in the accident.  I do not know how they are doing, or even how I could ever find out, but I continue to pray for them. Praying God would heal any injuries that they may have.  That God would do a work in their lives.

      I am reminded again, that every second counts in our lives.  In our case that night, another second later we could be lying in coffins right now by Todd in the cemetery. But for now, God has us still alive, and still with purpose.

      I think about another phone call I got just yesterday from one of my best friends.  She was in the hospital just having gone through an emergency appendectomy, the doctors said, they didn't think her appendix would have held for another hour, and with how bad it was, if it had burst, they didn't think they could have saved her.  Maybe it was minutes, maybe it was seconds, but God was still there with her, getting her the help when she needed it, for God still has plans for my dear friend.  I pray too for her, and a quick and complete healing.  I just talked to her, and she was home and out on a walk. She said it only lasted for two and one half minutes, but she had made it that far.  That's like running a marathon after what she's been through.  

   Prayer, never take it lightly.  Your sudden 'thoughts' about a friend could be God's reminder to pray for them, they maybe in a great need right now in their lives and need someone to pray for them.  I'm SO thankful for the friends and family that prayed for Kristi and I.  They took the time, they took it serious, God answered their prayers. 

   I know every second counts, and I want every second of my life to count for God. 

the second car and emergency vehicles.

   

    

Reminiscing of a former Fourth of July, 33 years ago

     Well, today marked the first time in 33 years, that I didn't spend it with Todd.  33 years ago today, he asked me to marry him, well, actually he asked "If I wanted to marry this ole cowboy," and I told him I'd pray about it.  I did pray, and I did say yes.  That started the next 32 1/2 years of always being with my best friend.  Today, I was sourounded by family and some friends for a wonderful picnic day of visiting and eating way too much good food.  But all day, I haven't forgotten that hot 4th of July 33 years ago, when he asked me to marry him.  Todd always said, I was one of his best choices he made in life.  I tend to agree with him.  He made a good choice in me, and I made a good choice in saying yes to him.  No our lives weren't perfect, nor without struggle, but they were good.  As my cousin Sheila said to me today, in reply that I told her Todd proposed to me 33 years ago today, she said, "And they were good years."  Yes, they were Sheila, even all the struggles, cause amidst the struggles of life, there is the laughter.  Todd always laughed at my sillyness, and said I was one of the funniest persons he knew, he of course sometimes laughed at me, when I wasn't being funny too.  I was being dead serious, and he'd laugh.  He'd laugh till I'd laugh with him.   He also said I was his favorite singer, he loved to sit and listen to me sing.  I loved to sing to him and also with him. He had such a good voice. 

   But now he's not here to laugh with me or at me when I'm being goofy.  I feel the void today more than I have in a long time, maybe it's just cause it's one of those landmark days.  The first time without him...  kind of days.  

    I wish I could see him up in heaven, to see him truly set free, but my eyes can't see into that rhelm, but my heart knows he's having a good time.  So I take that in faith, that he's so glad where he's at, and he's still laughing away.  

    I miss you Todd, my ole cowboy.  I'm glad you asked me, and I'm so glad I said yes. 

   

Todd and I thirty three years ago. 

Miracle Mirror

For now we are looking in a mirror that gives only a dim (blurred) reflection [of reality as in a riddle or enigma], but then [when perfection comes] we shall see in reality and face to face! Now I know in part (imperfectly), but then I shall know and understand fully and clearly, even in the same manner as I have been fully and clearly known and understood [by God].

 (1 Corinthians 13:12 AMP)

I have this old mirror that is presently hanging in my closet above my dresser.  For right now I use it to see if the earings or necklace look 'right' when I'm getting dressed.  But this old mirror has quite the history with me.

I think I got the mirror when I was in high school.  Growing up in the old Shaw farm house, there was only one small bathroom and with seven people in the house, the bathroom could not be used to do things like fix your hair or put on makeup.  With five women in the house, it would be a major traffic jam at times, so all us girls learned to use the kitchen table to be our place to put on makeup and do our hair.  So about the time those things became important (to some extent) in my life, I got this mirror.  It's a simple round mirror with a metal frame, and wire stand.  One side is magnified the other normal reflection.

I remember taking it to college with me, and of course remained with me when Todd and I married.  I always found some use for it.  When the kids were younger and we had a popup camper, it became the camper mirror.  It was great, it could be hung on a hook when in use, and adjust it's angle and fold it up flat and store it away when it was time to pack up.

After it's popup camper days it got moved to our fifth wheel camper.  You just never know when you'll need an extra mirror. Then in June of 2011 we were hit by a tornado.  In the morning, we found our fifth wheel camper, across the road, and blowed to bits for several miles across the hay field.  It took us a couple days to clean up the mess.  Load after load of debris was hauled off to the garbage pit on the ranch.  Our boss came with the tractor to haul off the base frame to the pit.  While hauling it away, it slipped off the tractor's loader, and crashed to the ground.  When it did, my old mirror fell out of where it was tucked away at, and landed on the gravel road.  I picked it up, amazed it was unbroken.  The frame was a little bent, but other than that, it was unscathed.  How it survived through all that I don't know, cause as you know mirrors are quite easily broken.  I decided to keep it as a constant reminder that even though the storms of life can come and blow things to pieces, and cause havock in your life,  God can still protect you and keep you from being broken.  

So now it hangs in my closet, safe and secure, reminding me daily, that that reflection of who I see in the mirror, is one who God loves, one who can survive the storms, one who has been tossed about, but not broken.  I wish it would reflect someone 40 pounds lighter, but it's not magical, it's just reflects what is in front of it. It's not magical, but I still say it's a miracle mirror.  It survived somethings that should have totally destroyed it, but it's still all together.  I too, have been through some storms, that could have possibly destroyed me, but God has held me together, and kept me from being totally broken.  That's the goodness and the grace of God in action!

The Open Cupboard Door

    It's funny how things you do, or don't do, can bring back a memory good or bad.  I was cooking the other day in the kitchen (of course, where else do you cook) and I looked around and several of my kitchen cupboards doors were open.  As I went back flippin' doors shut, I suddenly remembed one of the few times Todd ever humiliated me in public.  

    We were pastoring in Kenmare at the time, and in Todd's sermon one Sunday morning, he used as an illustration (I do not remember what he was preaching about, I just remember the illustration) that there was one thing that his wife did, that drove him nuts.  She leaves cupboard doors open all the time.  I'm sure the was a chuckle around the church, but I wasn't chuckling, I was humiliated beyond words, and hurt.  Number one, he had never told me in private that this bothered him, and two, I leave cupboard doors open?  I do?  I didn't even know this was something I did consistently.

    While I'm sure no one else in the church even remembered he had said this past leaving the church doors that morning, I was crushed, and it still echos in my ears some 25 years later.  I began observing myself after that, and yes, I do leave cupboard doors open behind me, cause more likely than not, my hands are full from removing something of need from the cupboard, and I forget to go back and shut them till later.  I began after that to consciously make an effort to make sure I shut doors behind me.  Why? Cause it was something that bothered him.  And my heart was always to make him happy.  Not that I didn't have a few words with him following that service about what he had said publicly.  Not that it would have been bad, but please tell me those things first in private, so I can work them, before announcing my faults to everyone else.  He of course apologized to me when I told him how much that had hurt me.  He hadn't meant to humiliate me, and he assumed I realized I did this all the time, and how much it bothered him.  

    Well, we learned an important lesson in marriage that day.  You should never assume your spouse knows the things that irritate you, and you should never announce them from the pulpit to everyone before mentioning them in private to your spouse.  

    Was Todd in the habit of intentionally humiliating me in public.  No!  Far from him, or his heart to ever do that, nor I do it to him.  But so often we do things without even thinking, that leaves lasting effects on others.  Have I forgiven him? Of course, many years ago, when it happened, but the memory of it still echos in my thoughts every time I see an open cupboard door.

     It really got down to the problem of lack of communication.  He had never voiced his 'bother' to me, and I wasn't aware this was something I even did, nor that it bothered him so much that he would tell others.  But looking back, if this was the greatest thing I did that bothered him, I guess not much about me bothered him.  Leaving a cupboard door open is not exactly a criminal offense you know.  Do I still leave cupboard doors open?  Yah, from time to time, my hands are full, and I forget to go back, so I still do this irritating habit.  Does it bother me? yah, it actually does now, cause now it's been pointed out that I do this, and it was something that irritated him, and although he's gone now, I somehow still don't want to irritate  him.  

    Oh yes, leaving a cupboard door open wasn't half as bad as leaving a gate open to Todd.  Leave a gate open (even if you were coming right back in a few minutes) would drive him nuts.  Always shut a gate that was shut when you opened it, cause you never know what can get out while it is open.  I was never accused of doing this awful crime though, cause, I could never get a gate he had built open.  Todd built the tightest gates around, and no one except him or someone of his strength level could get them open.  So thankfully I never got accused of leaving gates open!

    So my advice is, communicate to your spouse not just your irritations, but the things you love about them.  Hopefully you can communicate the good more than the bad.  Talk to each other.  Did Todd and I communicate well?  Yah, actually we did, which was why it surprised me he said this in public, we were in the habit of telling each other things we loved and didn't love about each other all the time.  We communicated well together, not that it was perfect, as you can tell, something things slipped through the cracks. And always remember, to shut the cupboard door! 

The Battered Penny by Kristi Reuer

The following is a little something that Kristi wrote. I thought it was so great, I asked her if I could share it on my blog. So… The Battered Penny

      

The Battered Penny

I was walking with heavy heart and lowered head when my down cast gaze met with a tiny ray of light.

‘Twas a small copper penny.

           It was battered and scarred, lost by one and trampled by many.

                           Considered worthless by most, but in it I found my worth.

For as I considered this tiny treasure the Spirit spoke to my spirit and said, “You are like this penny. You’ve been bruised and scarred but you have not lost your worth. Your Father in heaven knows your worth and it is far more than a penny. Indeed you are priceless for you were bought with a price beyond count. Your Father sees your struggles and hears your cries. He put this penny in your path to brighten your day and remind you of your worth. Know that He loves you and is always with you, no matter what. When you place your trust in Him he will provide for you. For He is your Father and He cares for your needs.”

            So with lightened heart and lifted eyes I continued on my path, the copper in my pocket reminding me that I’m worth more than gold.