Waltz Across Texas (part 2)

As I promised, here is Big Bend National Park as seen through the viewfinder of my camera. You know I get snap-happy, and like always, I took way too many pictures. Believe it or not, I'm only sharing a small part of my Big Bend collection.
I'll be honest with you--when hubby said he wanted to "waste time" in Big Bend while we waited for the weekend when we could visit our kids in San Angelo, I was not too excited about the idea. But I was wrong, and our few days there was no waste of time. The weather was perfect and the park is beautiful. The months of October and November is a good time to visit this picturesque desert.

If you decide to make the trip this winter or next spring, be sure to take hiking boots, a walking stick, and a couple of good canteens. (If you are planning a summer vacation, go to Colorado instead!) As you hike the trails and drive the paved and dirt roads, be prepared to marvel over the scenery, wildlife, and dessert vegetation.

I hope you enjoy my pictures--forgive me if this is vacation picture overload but I just couldn't help myself!

Look on the map of Texas and find our southern boarder, the great Rio Grande River. Typically the Rio Grande can be crossed easily on foot in many places. But due to some good rains and water released from a Mexican reservoir, the river was flowing deep and wide--and VERY muddy.

Across the river is, of course, Mexico. Here you see some Mexican citizens who were operating a little illegal business on American soil. They were on their side of the river, watching me through binoculars as I watched them through my zoomed camera lens.
And here are four more amigos who hiked down river a short distance from the camp. They too were keeping a close eye on me.

Here is their business--hand made bracelets, necklaces, wildlife trinkets made from twisted wire, and walking sticks. The items and the prices are written on the butchered milk jug. There were several of these little stores set up on big rocks on the American side of the river.

The Mexicans cross the river in their canoes, leave their merchandise, return to the Mexican side and wait for park visitors to leave cash in the jugs. (They are happy to take donations if you don't want any of their goods.) Then, they make their way back across the river to collect.You can buy the same trinkets in the visitor's centers and ranger stations at about three times the price posted on the jug. But the higher priced items have gone through the proper channels to be legal imports. We don't believe in encouraging illegal activity across our boarders, so I just took pictures and kept my money in my pocket.

FYI--Just in case you decide to visit Big Bend, be aware that some drug traffic happens across the desolate and impossible to secure river boundary, so it is important to obey park rules and avoid the illegal business.

It is hard to put into words the beauty of the diverse desert and mountains of Big Bend. I love nice scenery, don't you?
The subject of the photo below is the mule ear peaks in the background. We just happened to get into the shot.

As I tried to take in all the beautiful views I also enjoyed the wildlife. This osprey was just passing through. Though these birds do not live in the area, they migrate through the park. I was at the right place at the right time.
I noticed this sapsucker while we were hiking up a mountain trail.The deer hanging out at one of the camping spots weren't the least bit afraid of us.

Can you see my hidden treasure? I drive Rick crazy when we hike because I notice all the little details of nature.The desert is full of tarantulas and this one is missing a couple of legs. Poor little guy.We saw two javelinas, but those little creatures are fast and camera shy. I tried to follow them through the desert brush, but I lost them quickly. Not only are they fast, they are mean so I gave up the chase.

No picnic is complete with out ants and....

a turkey buzzard! This is one UGLY bird.

Scenery, wildlife, and plants--oh, the endless number of different desert plants. I couldn't photograph them all.
This little beauty takes shelter under other bushes and vegetation.

Very pretty but DO NOT TOUCH!Okay okay. Enough of the pictures. Big Bend National Park gets two thumbs up from me and I have never been a desert lover. But I must say, this desert is full of hidden treasures. Just take my word for it--it is a nice place to visit even if you wouldn't want to live there!

From Big Bend we went to San Angelo and then on to Austin. Part 3 to be posted soon. Come back again!

Waltzing Across Texas (part 1)

Well, hello there! Yes, I know. It has been a while. Excuse me while I hang up my hat and knock the dust off of my boots. I've been waltzing across Texas.

Okay, maybe not exactly waltzing, but I've made my way across a good part of the state these last few weeks. Drag out your map of the greatest state in the USA and check out where I've been.
After a long summer of no work, hubby was finally deployed to a hail storm in El Paso mid September. (Answered prayer)
I stayed in Amarillo to help daughter #2 and my sweet granddaughters move away to be with their daddy. (It was a happy time for them but very sad for me.) I'm trying to be a grown-up about it all, but it's not easy. Remember my post about what seems good to some doesn't seem good to others?
Well, it is good for their family to be together following God's guiding hand, and I guess I'll live. But I surely miss having them around.
I spent a few days cleaning carpets and putting some of my furniture that had been in storage back in my house, then I was ready to be with my man. I set out from Amarillo on October 13th for El Paso via Greyhound bus. Now before you say anything, let me tell you that when I told some of my friends that I was going to ride the bus over 400 miles, I got a few doubting looks and discouraging remarks. (No, I'd never done Greyhound before.) So it was with great apprehension I climbed the steps and sat down in a seat as close to the front of the bus as possible. (I had been advised by my worried friends to try to sit up front for the sake of my safety and sanity.)

I decided--trying to look on the bright side--that if the bus trip turned out to be a bad decision, at least I would have something to blog about. Fortunately (but yet somewhat regrettably), the trip was simply long and dull. No one on the bus got rowdy, no one tried to steal my purse. It was not crowded so sweat and odors weren't a problem, and if you've ever driven from Amarillo to El Paso, you know there is not much to see except a lot of sand and a few small desert mountains. I even kept an eye out for little green men when the bus made a stop in Roswell, NM, but I didn't see any. I did encounter a couple of characters at the bus station in El Paso while I waited for hubby to pick me up. Just as I felt like I REALLY NEEDED TO GET OUT OF THERE my knight in his big blue truck came to my rescue. Whew!

While Rick finished up his last few days of work in El Paso, I hung out at the RV park.It really wasn't quite as bad as the sign said, but it was not a place I would want to retire! The sun was very intense even when the temperatures were mild. The park's brochure stated they had good shade.
Um hum. Never believe the brochures.As you can see, the spots were a little cramped, and the trees were about seven years away from making a good shadow.
The century plants were four feet tall (or taller) so maybe tucked beneath one of them was where I was supposed to find the shade.
The park had (as most parks do) a few coin-op washers and two dryers. One dryer melts clothes and the other just tumbles with no heat at all.I'm glad our rig is fully self-contained because the "facilities" weren't the best I've encountered.It wasn't a five-star resort, but it offered easy access to the interstate and was near most of the neighborhoods where Rick had claims. That made his commute time short and our time together longer.

If you've read my blog for a while you know I put out an effort to hunt for joy. Even in the desert of a place like El Paso, TX I found it. Riding down the highway I noticed the signs over the exits to the Mexican border. No fire arms allowed. I gave thanks to God for my right and freedom to own and possess a gun, to protect myself if need be. A quick glance across the border again brings thanksgiving for my home. Even my home on wheels is more comfortable and spacious than some of the homes just across the river. It was a good week.

Work done and "between storms" once again, we headed for Big Bend National Park.

(Check back for part 2 of Waltzing Across Texas.)

Midlife vs. Adolescense

Hmm. Can't say that I see a whole lot of difference between the two. Both are marked by change and growth, drama and anxiety, joys and sorrows, emotional turmoil --life is out of our control and full of uncertainties.

For me, adolescence was a long time ago, but according to my failing memory, I think I made it through that season much easier than I'm struggling through these midlife days. Back then, change was good. It offered hope, challenges, improvement, and excitement about the future. But now, when I look in the mirror and see how time has changed me, and remember fondly days gone by while wondering about the future, ...Oh brother!

The hair (what hasn't fallen out) is silvering more every day. The eyebrows (no longer arched just so) are relocating to other places on my face. I can't find my waist and, well, let's just say my girlish figure has headed south for the winter.

Uncontrollable physical changes are not the only anxiety triggers of midlife. Health issues--that's a biggie. And planning for retirement--wondering if retirement will even be possible before the age of 95--can keep us mid-lifers up half the night worrying. In seventh grade we stressed over pimples, wearing the right clothes, and who "liked" whom. Today I stress over things like the problems my children face, the economic downturn, and the future of my nation (just to name a few). Hot flashes, mood swings, double chins and bat wings...What pill should I take for my achy joins, and have you noticed how the print on those darn labels gets smaller ever time you buy a new bottle?

One of my friends once told me, "Whoever said life begins at 40 was full of c**p!" I'm inclined to agree with my friend and I'm thinking it must have been a foolish teenager that said it.

But hey, midlife is not all bad. One of the biggest benefits to this awful season of life is grandchildren. They give us opportunity to act like silly little kids without judgment or condemnation. We can play, pretend, make silly faces, talk like babies... Our kids may think we are starting to go through our second childhood, but who cares? We are finally smart enough to live every moment to the fullest and we aren't going to let anybody spoil it for us. Besides, tomorrow we won't be able remember what we did, so in our minds, it never happened!

Another positive is the senior discount at restaurants. We mid-lifers seem to want to color our hair and wear "younger" styled clothing, etc. to hang on to our youth. But, I've discovered that if you let your silver locks glisten and wear those unflattering pants with the elastic waistbands, a polite and considerate server won't insult you by asking if you want the senior discount, (even though you aren't really that old) she will just give it to you anyway.

The Bible tells us that all our days are numbered and written in God's book. So if I really am at the midway point in my life, then I'm 16,802 days away from seeing my Savior face to face and walking the streets of heaven for eternity. (If I live to be 92.) That day, no matter how many days away, is something to look forward to.

So until then, I'll avoid mirrors, wear my custom readers, use tweezers on my face, wear long sleeves, play with little kids, and just put up with the aches and pains while enjoying discounts when I can. No, life didn't begin at 40, but it didn't end there either.

And hey, look on the bright side. We don't have to worry about who "likes" whom any more. Frankly, we don't care!

White Water

A few weeks ago I had the privilege of hearing Brady Boyd preach. The sermon was about the prodigal son and our adoption by God. I don't remember every detail of his message, but I know that I was touched, moved, inspired--glad that I went to church that day. Somewhere near the end of the service, Pastor Boyd said something that made this thought flash through my brain like cloud to cloud lightening.

"I'd rather ride the rapids with God than sit on the bank, watching, without Him."
Little did I know...

My youngest daughter, only a few days away from celebrating her 22nd birthday, squirmed and twisted in her seat beside me. She was in pain.

Rebecca had been having neck pain and a headache, off and on, for a few days. She told me she needed to buy a new pillow because hers was hurting her neck. I didn't think much about it. (Life's river had been gently flowing & I never suspected...)

Two days later my baby came stumbling to my door. Her legs were numb, she could hardly walk, half her face drooped as if she had suffered a stroke, she was rapidly loosing the ability to speak, and she couldn't control her saliva. By the time I got her to the hospital she could hardly lift her arms and legs, she couldn't talk, she was not fully comprehending what people said to her, and she was having trouble breathing. (Suddenly, unexpectedly, the river was rough and dangerous.)

As the evening progressed so did Rebecca's symptoms. One minute she was almost unconscious, the next thrashing about. She was in the bed and out, unable to talk then screaming that she wanted to go home. One moment in tears and the next throwing up. Suddenly she would fall asleep and just as suddenly four adults could not hold her down in the bed. Completely out of her mind and unaware yet with terror in her precious brown eyes she looked to me for help.  But she could not understand the words I spoke to comfort and calm her. She could only respond with guttural sounds, moans and groans. (In a matter of minutes my gentle river of life turned to white water rapids, rocks and deadly falls.)

Sedation drugs did nothing. CT scan was normal. Finally the doctor was able to give her a drug to knock her out and he pulled some spinal fluid. My little girl was only unconscious for a few minutes then the wild ride started all over again and lasted for hours. Blood pressure 155/115--blood oxygen levels low--body temperature over 102. Finally the day ended in ICU with Rebecca tied to the bed and fighting for...it seemed like she was fighting for everything. And the test came back positive--an infection in the spinal fluid and probably the brain.

The ICU waiting room became my home away from home. As I struggled to get a little sleep the lightening bolt zapped through my mind again. "I'd rather ride the rapids with God than sit on the bank, and watch, without Him."

This time the words hurt. Put to the test, would I pass or fail? Did I mean it? Was I really willing to accept life's trials with God to see me through or did I want ease and comfort more?

I felt as if Satan was sitting beside me, smirking, waiting for me to choose a safe seat on the bank over the dangerous white water ride with God. I had to make a choice, right then and there. In the waiting room of the hospital I had to decide if I would hold tight to God through faith, and praise and glorify Him no matter what happened to my little girl, or I would abandon my faith, (jump out of the raft) and trade it all for a healthy daughter and an easy way.

I closed my eyes and saw the dark red blood of Jesus wrapped around me as a life jacket. I saw God the Father at the front of the raft, guiding it down the rocky rapid river. I made my choice, grabbed a hand-hold, and as the raft crashed over the falls, cried "God I trust You! Be glorified in this circumstance and in my life!"

The next day the river ride got exciting. The doctor came by and told me that we were playing a waiting game. He had no idea how long it would be before Rebecca would "wake up" or be aware of what was going on around her. (Or IF she would.) It could be a few days or longer. There was no way of knowing if there would be any permanent damage. He didn't know what caused the infection so he didn't know the best way to treat it. Her vitals were stable and that is all he could tell me.

Then, some precious intercessors, men and women of God, showed up to pray. People across the country had gotten the word by then, so brothers and sisters I don't even know were praying. Satan was being bound and God's hand began to move. As I returned to the waiting room from praying with my sis and her husband in the hospital's chapel I said, "If we could just have a little glimmer of hope..."

The ringing of my phone interrupted. It was the ICU nurse. "Your daughter is asking for you."

There were more rapids and the ride has not been easy. After five days in the hospital and what seemed to be a relapse ten days later, my daughter is home and seems to be doing well. She still gets tired easily. She has had  some moments of mood swings. Her sense of taste still seems to be a little off sometimes. I still am not sleeping all night. I still wake myself up praying for all of my children. I still have moments of fear so gripping I cannot eat or concentrate. I may never be "normal" again. The ride down the river is not over. Rebecca has no medical insurance and only a part-time job. Her dad has not had work since the end of May. Every time we get a new bill in the mail I feel another huge rock in the middle of the river.

But, I know God is in control and I know the blood of Jesus saves us all from drowning in the river. May God be glorified in the white water rapids of life! Hang on tight with all the faith you've got--its going to be a wild ride!

Ya Just Gotta Laugh

Sometimes little crazy things happen, so crazy they are funny. This was one of those things for me, a ROTFL kind of thing, and I want to tell you about it.

I have a friend. (Yeah I know you're surprised.) She is one of those really good friends that will encourage you when you are right, tell you when you are wrong, and never stop loving you either way. She is smart and she is deep. We are just alike. (snicker snicker)

Really, I mean it. We chat online quite a bit and hardly a conversation byte whizzes through cyberspace but what one of us starts typing a thought and the other finishes it. We've thought surely we are twins separated at birth.

Now this deep friend and I talk about a lot of deep things and one of our topics lately has been prayer. We've covered it well-- everything from is it okay to tease with God to God knows what we are going to pray before we do and every other possible prayer topic in between. Oh, and we laugh a lot too. We often laugh a whole lot about really deep things.

One day this last week we were discussing some of the stressful and frustrating circumstance in our lives and how we should pray about them. I admitted to her that sometimes I just want to give up because life gets so complicated. I want to do everything just right and never make mistakes, but no matter how hard I try, I still mess up. I closed my little part of the conversation with this "prayer."

Dear Lord,

Send me an undertaker!

We ended our chat session and only a few minutes later my daughter knocked on my door, delivering the mail. On the top of the stack was a letter address to the Pflug Family, from--

Cox-LaGrone Funeral Home!

I live to testify: God knows what we are going to pray before we do, and He has a sense of humor! God is good!

Socially Unacceptable Prayers

I've been away from my blog WAY too long. I wonder--do I have any readers left? If so, thanks for hanging around and please bring a few of your friends over. I love meeting new people!

I think it is time for a word for the day and today it is--

perplexed:

1. Filled with confusion or bewilderment; puzzled.
2. Full of complications or difficulty; involved.

Boy, if that doesn't describe me right now I don't know what does. I'm hoping you, all my precious readers, will chime in on this one and let me know your thoughts and opinions, because my situation, I've discovered, is a ticklish topic that deserves discussion.

Let me set the stage. Most of my faithful readers know that my husband is an independent catastrophic insurance adjuster. (The independent part means he works and gets paid only when his company calls on him, and the rest of the time he is unemployed.) If you are new to my blog--well--now you know too. At the end of May, Rick signed himself out because he was suffering from burn-out, needed to have some major dental work done, and had to have cataract surgery. (It has been a costly summer as we are some of those uninsured Americans--targets of liberal government control. But that's another post for another time.) Now my man can chew his steak, sees better than before, is rested and ready to go back to work. Only one problem--no work to be had.

After two and a half months of no income and major expenses, we need money. There are only a few methods of financial acquisition. You can be gifted it, steal it, borrow it, inherit it, or earn it. Our society frowns upon beggars so I'm not expecting a gift, society and heaven frown upon stealing so that's not an option, borrowing when you have no income to pay back is just stupid, we don't have wealthy relatives, and if we did, certainly we would not want them to die just so we can pay the mortgage, so we choose to work for the money that we need. And our work depends upon--I flinch and squirm--storms. I put my faith in God, (El-Shaddai, the God who is sufficient for the needs of His people & Jehovah-Jireh, the Lord our provider) therefore I am praying for a storm.

Yes, you read that right--I'm asking God to provide a storm so my husband will have an opportunity to do what he does best, and then we can pay our bills like upstanding citizens should do. I've even asked some of my friends and family to agree with me in prayer. Responses have been varied, but all have come with hesitation. Here are a few.

• How about if I pray that God just bless you?
• I'll pray that if there is a storm, you will benefit from it.
• I'll ask God to give you work.
• (Deer-in-the-headlight stares but no words.)

I've discovered that it is not always socially acceptable to pray specifically for what you need. But pray specifically I feel I must! God has, and continues to bless us beyond words. A Christian heritage, wonderful healthy children and grandchildren, a free country in which to live, good health, a sound mind, a good marriage...even some very beneficial rain on our tiny plot of land are just some of the ways in which He has blessed us. Yes, we always ask for God's blessings though we are already so richly blessed, but those blessing won't pay the doctors or the electric bill. My precious friend that offered to pray that if there are storms we might benefit was thoughtful and meant well. But, we could find ourselves in the middle of foreclosure if there are no storms. What about the generic prayer for work? We have plenty of work. Remember all the rain that came as a blessing? It has made mowing our 1.5 acre plot an almost full-time job. And the mud and grass that hubby tracks into the RV keeps me sweeping up between washing his dirty clothes. Weed pulling, trim painting, bush trimming...there is plenty of work around our house to keep us busy, but that work does not produce income.

My prayer request perplexes my friends and honestly sometimes even myself. People have a hard time asking God for something they see as negative or "not good." Nobody wants to be known as the person who prays evil or disaster into the lives of others. Not even me! So I am especially and personally perplexed because what seems good for me might seem not good for someone else. (I think I know how the tax collectors might have felt during the first century.)

I find a little comfort in the realization that we are not the only people that benefit from another person's misfortune. Doctors need people to get sick. A dentist and an eye surgeon profited greatly because my husband is plagued with rotten teeth and cataracts. The guy that owns the local tire shop needs folks to have a blowout ever now and then. Your mechanic needs your car to break down, police officers, lawyers, and judges have jobs because of unlawful deeds done to law abiding citizens, and guidance counselors, psychologists & therapists all profit when someone else has a problem. Even evangelists and preachers have jobs because lost sinners have yet to find salvation through Christ. Have you ever wondered if your doctor prays that one of his patients break a leg? I dare you to ask him the next time you are in for a check up.

Insurance adjusters are not the only people that profit from storms or wildfires or other disasters. Roofers, tree trimmers, contractors, painters, landscapers, electricians and linemen, shingle and siding manufacturers, trash companies,...(I could go on and on.)

Even the people whose homes are damaged and lives are disrupted sometimes reap a harvest. Life's trials give opportunity to seek God, place priorities, comfort and be comforted, gain strength and character, learn something new and grow faith. Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trial, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let endurance have its perfect result, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing. (James 1: 2-4) Could it be, that if I pray for a storm, rather than praying evil into someone's life I might actually be praying for the maturity and perfection of their faith?

I've given this a lot of thought. I know God cares about the tiny details of our lives, so I know it is okay to pray specifically for what we need. I know I feel encouraged and comforted when my brothers and sisters in Christ pray for us. I know I can't stand the look on their faces or the hesitation in their voices when tell them I'm praying for a storm and I ask them to pray for one too. I know that none of us have the mind of God and what seems good to us is not always good and what seems bad is not always bad. I know our bank balance is nearing the "E" mark and God needs to move on our behalf soon. And I know I want to hear what you have to say about my perplexing situation. Do I continue to pray my socially unacceptable prayers or do I lift up a less offensive version? If you were in my place, how would you pray?

This is a test

This is just a test. No beeps or bleeps, no important message, just a test.

I'm trying out a new tool for posting to my blog and I want to see if it works. So here goes. Click on the publish button and see what happens.