Just Imagine

You know, God chooses to do things the hard way a lot, it seems. At least, it seems that way to me, in my life. I do say that once I agree, it becomes easier, because He enables me to do the task at hand.

So I figure He really had to stay close to Mary and Joseph though all that ordeal.

I often think about poor Mary. The backlash she must have experienced. How her parents must have felt when she told them she was pregnant.

Here she was, engaged, legally bound to this man, and the kid ain't his.

She's a teenager, and although that meant something very different then, she was still very young.

And poor Joseph. He must have been stunned. How could this be true (not that she was pregnant with God, but how could she have betrayed him?)

The decision he saw himself faced with. Stone her to death? No, he couldn't do that. Not to his Mary. Even if she had done this - this - horrible thing to him.

And how terrifying for him, for Gabriel to appear and tell him Mary really wasn't lying. She hadn't had sex with someone else. She was a vessel to carry the Son of God.

Mind blowing. Life altering.

Such relief Mary must have felt when Joseph came to her and stood by her side. Her parents probably felt relief, too. Embarrassed, sure, as Joseph's parents were. But they were legally bound, they'd made a mistake, and they were making it right by finishing up the marriage and giving this baby a name.

Or perhaps they believed. We don't know.

We do  know Mary visited her cousin Elizabeth, probably before she told Joseph.

And received confirmation when Elizabeth opened the door. She knew - and even more miraculous - the baby within her knew and lept for sheer joy!

If I'd been Mary, I probably would have thought, "It really is true! I'm not losing my mind!"

But Mary may have been much more secure in what God had said to her. Either way, the confirmation must have been very welcome.

And then comes the decree from the good old interfering government that everyone has to go to their ancestral home to be taxed.

Eighty miles, probably on foot, or maybe a donkey. And Mary so far into the pregnancy she must have been miserable after the first of those eighty miles.

Think of it ladies. When you were in the last month of your pregnancy, could you have walked eighty miles?

You know the story. Not a hotel room to be found. Finally someone took pity on them and offered them a stable where the animals were. At least they had a place to stop. Maybe there was clean hay and Joseph could try and make a bed for Mary.

She was in labor. Nobody there but her and Joseph, who probably wasn't exactly mid-wife material.

I know what would have been going through my mind, "At least I know the baby will live", because after all, He was God's son.

And poor, poor Joseph. Can you image how terrified he was?

And even after the baby was born, and Mary seemed like she would live, he had the daunting fact in front of him: Joseph would be responsible for being the earthly father to the Son of the Living God.

And that was just the beginning. No telling what they felt when that Heavenly host showed up

Merry Christmas, ya'll.

A Fan of My Fan

So much  has been happening lately, I've barely had time to think about it, much less write about it.

But one thing stands out, and I gotta write it down.

I had a book signing a few days ago. it was pouring rain, and I was a little concerned nobody would bother to come out in this cold wet mess.

I began to cry with the first person I saw.

No, I'm not being silly or dramatic. Here's the story behind the tears:

Every book signing I've ever had, Mrs. Defore has shown up. She was a tiny elderly woman. I had graduated high school with one of her daughters. Her daughters made sure she got there. She was always all dressed up, her eyes full of sparkle and excitement. She said she loved my books almost as much as she loved me and couldn't wait to start reading. 

I always found myself watching for her out of the corner of my eye, as I was turning into her biggest fan.

Mrs. Defore passed away last year. As soon as I heard the news, my heart broke a little. I knew I wouldn't be seeing her eager happiness at my next book signing.

So when I looked up and saw her daughter walking down the sidewalk, I began to weep.

As she came though the door she, too, began to cry and we just held each other for a moment.

"Mother loved you and your books so much. There was just no way I could not come today. I want a book, and I want you to sign it in memory of her."

I wrote, "In memory of my beloved friend Jewel"

Suddenly, even if no one else turned up (which, thank goodness, they did), my day was worth it.

I miss you, Jewel Defore.

O Christmas Tree

We started decorating the Christmas tree last evening.  We have about eleven billion zillion ornaments, and I usually buy one new one a year.

It takes a long time to place them all, and usually Daughter and I do it together. She had to work today, so I've been putting three or four ornaments on every time I walk by.

So many memories! It's amazing how I recall who gave it to me, or where it was purchased. 

We've said other than the tree, we are only going to put up the garland on the staircase and decorate the mantel. And of course my ivory nativity set will be placed somewhere.

That's what we said last year, and wound up doing a whole lot more. It's kinda like; well, here the stuff is we might as well...

Anyway, we'll see how it goes this year.  More will be revealed, I guess.

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas...

Thanksgiving Past

I made dressing. Lots of dressing. Those of you who make it know how messy the process is. I made deviled eggs. Peeled cucumbers. Trimmed tomatoes.

The Great Hunter, Husband, went to fetch the turkey. Came back with two breasts. Men.

I took my haul to Mother's, to join the rest of the family with what they had prepared so we could have a feeding frenzy.

And I left my kitchen in the mess you can imagine it was in.

You can also imagine without much effort the shape I was in when I came back from the pig trough Mother's. BLECH.

So upon arising this morning, I didn't even want to go near the kitchen for fear of catching a glimpse of the horror that awaited me.

Lawd.

It took me all morning to clean that sucker up. Empty the dishwasher, then refill it. Scrub pans and big bowls and wooden handled things and muffin pans and counter tops and stove. And the sink was a health department nightmare under all that. First I scrubbed with comet, then sprayed it with Clorox.

Husband took off the garbage (well, he tried to, they were closed). At least he got it out of my kitchen.

There's still turkey left.

But ain't that the way it always is?

Finally

Well, the  new book  is  here. 

I've sold some already. 

I've been on your TV. 

I've got two book signings coming up (November 27 6p to 8p at Dalton State College and Dec. 8 from 2p to 4p at Walls of Books), 

The local newspaper is going to interview me Friday.

I'm doing story telling once a month at Gilmer Arts, which is loads of fun.

Fall ran past and winter is lurking.  

Thanksgiving is next week.

I had about six things to blog about, but have been so busy, it never got done. Now, of course, I don't remember.

I hope you remember to buy a book!  Remember, there's a musical CD tucked in the back, too.

Hope to see you soon!

Don't Jump!

I am not the kind of person who loves to do new things that challenge me.

I guess I'm lazy. Or comfortable.

It doesn't scare me, because every once in a while, like some sort of whiz kid, I say, when asked, "Sure! That sounds like fun."

(Dear Lord, please don't let anyone ask me to bungee jump, jump out of an airplane or even just jump. Thank you.)

So, some weeks ago a friend asked me to be part of a show. To read some of her bee-yoo-tee-full poetry and to sing a song she wrote. "Sure! That sounds like fun." says I.

And it was. The first few practices of the music weren't all that fun, as learning new songs is a little difficult for me now that I'm hearing impaired.

But the show itself was fun. Some wonderful paintings by artists both great and new, poetry,  music, tears and laughter.

Doesn't that sound like fun to you?

So today's lesson is this: Open yourself to new things and enjoy yourself. 

Unless it involves jumping.

October: Time to do a Count!

Every October, I do a tally and a heartfelt thank you.

As of today, there have been 52,716 hits or reads on my blog.

94 Countries have read my blog. The newest one is Kyrgyzstan.

How about that?

My mind continues to be boggled. I will never understand what holds any interest about this blog in Seychelles. Or Paupa New Guinea. I just don't get it. But I am ever grateful. 

Here's hoping to another year filled with surprises!

Thanks again.