No Peace

I feel eerie when I think of last weekend, Mother's Day, and how I received a bouquet of roses that turned into a prophetic message.  
My daughter carefully unwrapped the store bought flowers as I filled my vase with water.  She whispered the Peace Rose is her favorite and that's why she chose it for me.  As healthy as the bunch of roses were, we noticed one stem that lost its flower head as soon as we lifted it.  My daughter had an idea.   She carried it from the kitchen to my office and placed the lone Peace rose next to my desktop with hopes the flower would cheer me as I worked in that room. 

She positioned the Peace rose on my Jerusalem plaque.   

The next day brought a historical event both in Israel and the USA when President Trump moved the American Embassy from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem.I felt jubilant as I watched the event on my computer screen.I celebrated Israel’s 70th birthday from afar and smiled when I viewed the dancing in the streets along with signs of gratitude w…

Will They Bloom Again?

I climbed on the step stool in my kitchen and reached for my bud vase, a whiskey shot glass from Eau Claire, Wisconsin.  Every fourth week in April, the buds on my rose bush appear and each year my husband says the same thing as he presents me with the first rose of the season. 
“You’ll have roses by Mother’s Day!”
I carefully set the first rose in water on my kitchen island and secretly wonder if those bushes will reach their full potential after winter.
He planted the rose bushes decades ago and every spring I’m amazed how the spindly branches transition into plush red roses that drape the front deck of our home.  I’ve yet to face a Mother’s Day without their crimson beauty.
Oddly, my roses parallel my motherhood.
I often wondered the outcome of raising little girls in my younger years.  I think about the times my confidence waned, or the times I second-guessed myself and the times I thought I could have made better decisions. 
The girls blossomed into beautiful women, nonetheless.


Name the Day

On a spontaneous whim, my daughter drove to my house to pick me up last Tuesday morning, her day off.  She invited me along for a day of shopping, lunch and a quick visit to see our sick friend.I called the day “Fun Adventure.”
I’m naming my days.I got the idea from a life coach who writes a devotional I’m reading called Seize the Day.The gist of it names the day and calls it forth so as to step into a new day and enjoy it to the full by focusing on that day’s name and that day’s goals.
We all do this to some degree when we refer to our days as birthdays, anniversary days, holidays or a day off from work.Now I call my days “productive days” if I revamp a clothes closet or pantry.I also like “do nothing days” when I give myself permission to chill on the front deck with a good book and warm up leftovers for dinner instead of cooking.
Our nation called yesterday “Take Back Day” to address the opioid epidemic rampant in America with hopes to dispose of medication we no longer use to the pos…

Love My Neighbor as Myself?

A good neighbor is a fellow who smiles at you over the back fence, but doesn't climb over it.  Arthur Baer
Several from our mid-week life group missed our meeting but the stimulating topic offered the mere seven of us much to chew on and discuss.  The living room overflowed with chatter.Sunday's sermon topic, Love Your Neighbor as Yourself, ignited stories of hard-to-love neighbors we encounter  who we live near, work with or brush elbows with throughout our day.  I find myself dwelling on the Bible verse we noted in Luke 10:27 which got our conversation rolling:
"Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind and, Love your neighbor as yourself."

The key for me, "as yourself," sparked a memory of my neighbor who lives down the street whom I've written about in the past.  She ignores boundaries.  Her frequent visits with her kids in tow who wander throughout my home touching everything re…

Reaching for the Goal

While eating dinner at our daughter's last Saturday evening, she mentioned she  missed her sister and family in San Diego.  She took a few vacation days and suggested the 450 mile road trip.  Our husbands felt better about it if she didn't go alone but take me along.  She didn't have to ask me twice!  By Sunday morning I was packed and ready to go!  It took us over eight hours.  We jam-packed each day with fun in the sun enjoying the ocean and our family.

Mission Beach Boardwalk stretches about 2-1/2 miles.  It's lined with shops and restaurants, bicycles, skateboards, condo rentals and lovely sidewalk flowers to enjoy.

We babysat my youngest granddaughter while her big sister went to school and their parents could get away for a nice lunch by themselves.  The little one is turning four.  After dinner at Chuck E. Cheese, we had a party with homemade cupcakes and frosting.  

My family knows my happy place is Balboa Park with it's pretty fountain, flowers, museums, arbo…

Should I Tip?

Let me tell you about the big debate at our house this past week.  The husband claims we should always tip the waitress when we order carry-out food from a restaurant.  I thought to tip in a restaurant is optional.  Friendly and efficient service calls for a reward and wait staff knows when they do well, it pays off.
This all came up from a media report about a waitress who worked at a popular steakhouse chain.  She was thrilled to be the one to get the called-in order from a Christian mega church buying lunch for a big meeting.  The order totaled over $700 and took her an hour to prepare.  The fellow who picked up the order did not include a tip when he paid for it.  The disappointed waitress expressed her exasperation on social media. 
It Gets Worse The waitress returned to work the next day to learn the restaurant fired her.  Apparently, the boss read her social media page!  In the meantime, the Christian church also read her social media post and determined to fix the offense.  Th…

The Crabby Customer and The Preacher

My heart felt like it would burst as I listened to Christians call in to the Christian radio station and testify about the great preacher, Billy Graham, this week.  The man of God loved people and labored across the world to share Good News.
I never met Billy.  My mom and I watched one of his crusades on T.V. in the sixties.   But I have my own Billy Graham story and I hope it honors him.
Years ago, Mrs. Richardson purchased a home from our office.   She became ill after she moved into her new home where the master shower developed problems.  Business increased and our office contractors couldn’t handle the service load.  But tenacious Mrs. Richardson kept calling and seemed crabbier each time.
One afternoon after I returned from lunch, the office manager offered to give me the rest of the day off if I would visit Mrs. Richardson and assure her we would fix her shower. 
When I parked my car in her driveway, I distinctly heard in my spirit that I should offer to pray on my knees with Mrs…