Everybody Must Get Stoned

Bob Dylan said it and I’m here to attest that his words are true. They are in my case anyway.

A couple weeks ago as I lay alone in my bed resting a pain developed in my side. I didn’t think much about, after all, I often have side pain with my Crohns Disease. The pain didn’t dissipate as I had planned. Instead it got worse.

It was a different kind of pain, like a contraction. Now I’ve given birth on three separate occasions—I know what contractions are like. The difference with this pain and a contraction is that with childbirth, you get a small break in between.

I’m a very patient woman. That’s the only reason I can determine why I lay in my bed writhing in pain for two hours. My husband at work, my two younger children at school, I decided to call my eldest son, home from college. He was down the hall asleep in his bedroom.

My son, rushed to my side. We came to the conclusion that I must be having an attack of appendicitis. I’d just gone through that only a couple months earlier with my husband.

The pain continued to worsen to the point that I began throwing up. The only good thing about this turn of events is that the pain seemed to abate for a few minutes after throwing up. I threw up four more times before I saw the emergency room doctor.

My husband met me and my son at the ER. I could tell he was frightened. He’d seen me give birth to our three children. He knew how I reacted to that pain. This was worse. He would later tease that he was sure an alien was going to explode out of my torso.

Thank God the emergency room was fairly empty and I was quickly taken back. After seeing the ER physician I was hooked up to an IV, given some fluids and a very strong pain killer before being rolled down for a CT scan.

The CT came back shortly with a diagnosis—kidney stones.

The following evening I survived the passing of my first stone. It wasn’t nearly as painful as the day before. I investigated kidney stones on the internet and was surprised (well sort of) to find that people with inflammatory bowel disease are prone to kidney stones. This disease just keeps getting better and better.

From my blog posts I must sound like I’m sick all the time…but I’m not. I’m living a happy, productive life despite my illness. In fact I praise God for the trials I’ve gone through. I even searched for a Bible verse to describe this current situation. Here’s what I came up with.

Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord!"
Some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to Jesus, "Teacher, rebuke your disciples!"
"I tell you," he replied, "if they keep quiet, the stones will cry out." Luke 19:38-40

I’d like to think that when I was laying there unable to do anything but groan in pain that my “stones” cried out with praise to God!

But don’t get me wrong…I do not feel so all alone, because everybody must get stoned…

Snow Time Like The Present

He says to the snow, 'Fall on the earth,' and to the rain shower, 'Be a mighty downpour.' Job 37:6

The Good Lord is certainly generous in Southeast Texas with rain showers, but snow…well not so much. On December 4, 2009, however, Houston, Texas delighted in a smattering of snowfall. Most school children were already deep into class or school would surely have been cancelled. Thankfully for my kids the snow lasted well into the evening so they had their chance to play in the soggy white drifts. Keep in mind the drifts are what accumulated on car hoods.

A Houston snow is about as common as a flock of Blue Footed Boobies migrating to Galveston Island. Speaking of Galveston, a blanket of snow covered Galveston Island on Christmas Eve 2004. The amazing pictures of the Galveston Seawall, coated in snow were all over the news and internet. There was even a coffee-table book released commemorating the “miraculous” event.



We’ve been blessed with a layer of the white stuff only four times in the past fifteen years including the December 4th snow. There doesn’t seem to be much accurate information on the history of Houston snowfall, but here is what I’ve learned from the internet and from having lived here over forty years myself. Apparently it has only snowed in Houston thirty-three times since 1895 when the heavens opened up and dropped twenty plus inches of snow on downtown Houston. Believe me when I say it has NEVER snowed that much in the one-hundred-and-fifteen years since. The December 4th snow marked two records; first it’s the only time it snowed two years in a row, 2008 and 2009 and it beat the previous record for earliest recorded snow of December 10th set in 1944 and 2008.

I’ll never forget my first snow memory. The year was 1973. I would have been nine or ten years old. Schools were closed at the first mention of snow. My brothers and I watched the news reports warning about icy roads and covering the tender vegetation as we snuck peeks out the window waiting patiently for that first bit of fluff to fall from the sky. When it finally came, we rushed outside wearing three pair of pants, four shirts, winter coats and rain boots. (My mom doesn’t like cold). I remember a snow man of about two foot tall and my face stinging from being pummeled by snowballs. I also remember my mom making snow ice cream and saving one final snowball in a plastic baggy in the freezer. Yes, these are memories that stick with you.

Another memorable snow happened in 1989. It was special to me because it was the first snow I could remember since my first snow in 1973. My husband and I played in the snow in the backyard of our first home. We made a six inch snowman complete with match stick arms and cat food eyes. Ahh memories.

It seems strange that my youngest child has seen snow three times already in his short life. And we’re looking at freezing temperatures at the end of this week. Do you think it might snow in Houston yet again? That’s global warming for you!

Is There A Doctor In The House?

When Jesus heard that, he said, This sickness is not unto death, but for the glory of God, that the Son of God might be glorified thereby. John 11:4

I’ve been sick since Pearl Harbor Day. I’m not the sort of person that complains much. Probably the reason why I waited twenty-two days before going BACK to the doctor for more medication. Unfortunately I feel as though I missed the entire month of December in my Codeine-induced stupor. I was diagnosed on my second trip to the doctor (on my birthday) with asthmatic bronchitis. I pray you never get this! Especially if you suffer from a compromised immune system like I do.

Somehow I managed to feel my way through the holiday season. Admittedly I stumbled through much of it. I narrated our church’s Christmas musical. I attended my son’s Christmas concert. I performed a reading from Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol. I also attended my daughter’s Christmas band concert, my son’s school party and an AWANA Christmas party. I welcomed my eldest home from college, sent three kids to dental and medical appointments and attended a professional basketball game. I shopped, decorated, shopped again. I’m not mentioning all the things I had to skip due to excessive weakness. December is a tough month to be ill!

An illness of this degree will make you closer to the Lord. I found myself asking if this was going to be a sickness unto death. I had to ask because at times, the coughing, wheezing, night sweats and hours of daytime sleeping made me wonder if I was going to make it. Thankfully it was not a sickness unto death and I’m here to write about it. Thank you Father for sparing me that through my sickness You might be glorified.

A Christmas Carol Revisited

My interest has been piqued this year concerning the real story behind the Charles Dickens classic novel, A Christmas Carol. I conducted a bit of research and found that the “ghost story of Christmas” was born out of Dickens humiliating stint as a child factory-worker following his father’s imprisonment for unpaid debt. Dickens was from a higher class than the other workers and became the recipient of their degrading jeers. This period allowed Dickens to see first hand the horrible conditions the people of London faced on a daily basis but the part that caused him to suffer the most emotional damage was the plight of the children of the poor. He decided to publish a political pamphlet about the difficulties of the poor man’s child, but decided against it. This pamphlet would become, A Christmas Carol.

Over the years I’ve seen numerous cinematic depictions of A few of my favorites have been:

1979 An American Christmas Carol. Dickens’ Victorian London becomes America’s Great Depression. Mr Benjamin Slade (Scrooge) as played by Henry Winkler is the remaining owner of S&L Finance, after the death of his partner Jack Latham, (Marley). On Christmas Even Slade and his assistant, Thatcher make rounds repossessing goods from people unable to make their payments. After firing Thatcher, Slade is confronted by his dead partner and three spirits; all those he has repossessed from that day. As in the original story, the ‘Scrooge figure’ is confronted with the reaction to his future death and finally sees the true meaning of life, love and the Christmas spirit.

1983 Mickey’s Christmas Carol. Scrooge McDuck of course plays the part of Scrooge. Mickey Mouse plays the part of Bob Cratchit, and Goofy is the ghost of Jacob Marley. The ghosts respectively were: Past, Jiminy Cricket, Present, Willie the Giant, and Future, Pete the dog?

1988 Scrooged. This hilarious depiction of A Christmas Carol introduces Francis “Frank” Xavier Cross, a ruthless television executive, played by veteran actor, Bill Murray whose corporate climb has lost him the love of his life played by Karen Allen and his only brother James, played by Murray’s real brother John Murray. Bob Forsyth plays the part of Frank’s dead and decaying mentor who of course represents Jacob Marley. The ghosts are played by; Past, David Johansen/Buster Poindexter, Present, Carol Kane and the Ghost of Christmas Future was a television faced apparition with a body made of ghouls. One of the best parts of this film has to be the character of “Cratchit” played by Alfre Woodard as Frank’s assistant, Grace.

1992 The Muppet Christmas Carol. Michael Caine plays Scrooge in this Muppet depiction of the classic tale. Kermit and Miss Piggy play the parts of the Cratchit parents with their tiny frog son playing the part of Tiny Tim. The best part about this version is the delightful music that seems to stick with you long after the film is over.

Which brings me to my final pick and the sole reason for writing this blog in the first place…

2009 Disney’s A Christmas Carol. This animated, 3-D version stars the voices of Jim Carrey, Gary Oldman and Bob Hoskins to name a few. Carrey steals the show with his portrayal of Scrooge, young and old and the Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present and Yet to Come. As you can see, I’ve seen my fare share of depictions of the story, not withholding the BORING ones starring George C. Scott and Patrick Stewart. (Please forgive me if these are your favorites.) But this version knocked my socks off. I’ve read several reviews from the “professionals,” some good, some bad. I’ll stick with the opinions of the four critics who saw the movie with me, a seventeen year old boy and girl, a nine year old boy and girl, and of course me, a woman of a certain age, tee hee. It was one of those movies where people clapped loudly at the ending, where tears were shed and hearts were touched. It stuck true to the original text…yes I checked. Sure someone had some fun with a bit of unnecessary cinematic magic in the form of a couple races through the streets and skies of London, but hey, you have to please the kids too. I would not, however, recommend this film for very young children as the scenes with the ghost of Jacob Marley were extremely frightening—even for me.

So in closing I will say, Disney’s animated portrayal of this classic novel has given me a forever appreciation of the genius of Charles Dickens. And I will add this comment; if you, or someone you know needs a touch of Christmas Spirit this year, take them to see this video and be blessed. And heed the words of Tiny Tim, “To remember upon Christmas Day, the One who made lame beggars walk, and blind men see. And God bless us, everyone!”

In Sickness And In Health

In sickness and in health. I said that phrase twenty-four years ago. I said it, and I meant it. My vow was never put to the test though…my beloved never got sick. That was my job. After all, I’m the one with the chronic disease. Sure there’s been the occasional cold and flu, but never have I had to put my husband’s health in the hands of another. Until…

October 25, 2009 in the wee hours of the morning. My husband developed all the classic symptoms of appendicitis. We headed for the hospital. A CT scan confirmed our suspicions…a surgeon was called in. Our kids came in to see their dad before the surgery. It was hard for them to see their father like that. My parents graciously took them to eat; a nice distraction.

Eight hours later…the surgeon arrived. My husband and I passed the time that Sunday afternoon watching football games to take our minds off of his impending surgery. I cringed at the thought of him being put under. I didn’t know anything about this man who would cut into my best friend, and why was it taking so long for him to get there? And then he showed up; athletic and handsome, dressed in his Houston Texans shirt. He’d been at the game. My husband would later comment on his concerns that the surgeon could have been drinking. Thank God I didn’t think of that!

One hour and fifteen minutes. “…May the Lord deal with me, be it ever so severely, if anything but death separates you and me." Ruth’s words in chapter 1, verse 17, uniquely describe the attitude of our twenty-four year marriage. We are BFF’s. For an hour and fifteen minutes I felt truly alone; even with my parents and two of my children by my side. That’s when God put His hand on my shoulder.

Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go. Joshua 1:9 Yes, I know Lord. I reached to put my hand to my shoulder when the doctor stepped into the waiting room.

Your husband did just fine. The words I’d waited to hear. Yes, it was a simple appendectomy, but to me it was a big deal. It was a measure of faith.

Thank you Father, for warning me what was to come with my husband’s health. Thank you for the surgeon who expertly performed the procedure. Thank you for the ER staff, the anesthesiologist, the funny medical student, the brilliant nursing staff. And thank you, Father for Your reassuring hand on my shoulder when I truly needed it.

Do You Have Mad Skills?

“And Bezalel and Aholiab, and every gifted artisan in whom the Lord has put wisdom and understanding, to know how to do all manner of work for the service of the sanctuary, shall do according to all that the Lord has commanded.” Exodus 36:1

Following the golden calf fiasco at the base of Mt. Sinai, God commanded the Israelites to build a temple according to His plans. The temple would be expertly made by skilled builders. The adornments inside the temple were of the highest quality.

Was it pure dumb luck that the Israelite camp was filled to overflowing with expert crafts persons? No…God provided the wisdom and understanding to those who were willing to do the work. There were engravers, yarn spinners, designers, tapestry makers, jewel cutters, those who forged gold, silver and bronze. God abundantly blessed the Israelites with these and many other skills needed to get the job done.

Likewise, God gives each of us certain skills to use for His glory. That is why Paul said in Romans 12:6-8, “We have different gifts, according to the grace given us. If a man's gift is prophesying, let him use it in proportion to his faith. If it is serving, let him serve; if it is teaching, let him teach; if it is encouraging, let him encourage; if it is contributing to the needs of others, let him give generously; if it is leadership, let him govern diligently; if it is showing mercy, let him do it cheerfully.”

I believe God not only gives people spiritual gifts, but everyday skills too such as a beautiful singing voice, playing an instrument, sewing or create things from textiles, the ability to write… So whatever mad skill you may have, remember that it came from the Father. And never forget what 1 Corinthians 10:30 says, “So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God.

Mum’s The Word!

In 1980 I donned my very first (and last) homecoming mum. What is a homecoming mum you ask? Well, it was only last week that I found out homecoming mums are almost exclusively a Texas tradition. Being the selfish, ‘we are the center-of-the-universe’ Texan that I am, I assumed everyone participated in the gaudy ritual that is…the homecoming mum.

This is Texas and size does matter—well in homecoming mums anyway! The bigger the better is the mantra for Deep South beauties. A pancake sized chrysanthemum, either real or fake attached to a cardboard backdrop makes up the base of the corsage. The mum can be enhanced with stuffed animals, the school mascot or even goal posts made from pipe cleaners. An explosion of ribbon in the school’s colors, reaching up to and beyond three feet in length hangs from the mum. The ribbons usually bear the wearers name and the name of her beau, or interest, or date in bright glitter letters. Trinkets such as footballs, music notes and the like are attached as well. A veritable floral monstrosity that when attached to your shirt, pulls the garment down to your belly button! I suppose that’s why some where their mums around their necks like a breastplate.

I tried unsuccessfully looking online to find the history of the homecoming mum, so I went to a source I knew would give me the answer I was looking for…my mom. According to Mom who began her high school career in the tiny town of Milano, Texas (just west of Bryan/College Station), no one in her school ever wore a mum (and Mom was a cheerleader, so she would know!) Mom finished high school in Houston, Texas at Sam Houston High. She remembered the drill team girls always wore matching yellow checked dresses on game day and on homecoming Friday, a small mum accompanied their ensemble. That all happened in the gay old year of 1955.

Say, since my young adult novel is set in Kerrville, Texas maybe I should have one of the characters receive one of those big beautiful bust bouquets! I could start a trend for the entire USA! And then again, maybe not.

Yes…that’s me on the left in the picture. I remember me and my best friend, Krista, proudly wearing our matching cable knit sweaters to the game and literally sweating through to our Columbia blue mum ribbons. In South Texas, fall might mean football, hayrides and bonfires, but it doesn’t always mean cool weather. What you can’t see in the picture is our matching baby blue corduroy jeans! So who was the handsome stranger that gave me my one and only homecoming mum? It wasn’t a stranger at all; it was my mom and dad. No, it doesn’t have to be a boyfriend who gives you a mum. It just has to be someone who loves you.