Somewhere Near You

The small boy was on red alert.  He smelled the peculiar smoke coming from the bathroom where his mom kept a little pipe above the medicine cabinet.

He never knew how long it would last, but he did know it meant trouble.  It was always the same, but always different.

He looked for food.  There were no crackers or candy under her bed where she hid it, but he found a can of beans in the pantry.  He desperately tried to open it before she got out of the bathroom, but his little fingers couldn’t manage to get the manual can opener to work.

He didn’t hear her coming out. It was too late by the time he did.  Angry, she shoved him to the ground and threw the can of beans striking him squarely in his chest.

As he shrunk toward the door, grabbing the can in a frantic backward crawl, she lunged toward him, grabbing, jerking his skinny, little body across the floor.  He was terrified.  The kind afraid where you can’t breathe, can’t move, can’t cry.  The kind where every second felt like a year. Continue reading Somewhere Near You

Dear God

Dear God,

There’s so many things I don’t understand, so I’m writing You hoping You can swoop down and take care of things, at least the questions.

Like, why do kids starve in parts of the world? And why was a child somewhere, probably a lot close than we want to think, abused beyond measure by someone who is supposed to care and love them?

And God, why do you let evil people kill in the name of false gods? And why does it rain like crazy one year, then a drought the next….wouldn’t it be better to just even it out? Continue reading Dear God

Breathe, Just Breathe

I don’t have coronavirus. I can only imagine how it feels, but I do know what lung issues feel like.

It’s not the first rodeo. I’m susceptible.  Asthma as a kid, multiple respiratory infections over a life time, two cases of pneumonia, and almost annual cases of bronchitis make an unwanted, dreaded knowledge base of experience.

It starts as a tickle.  A little irritation, like a little bug gently trots across the trachea.

The tickle soon turns into an avalanche of dry heaves as the lungs begin to tell the tale of problems to be.

The next day the tickle becomes a rattle in the chest.  Each breath may, depending on unknown factors with unpredictable causes, create a series of chest convulsions straining to cough out an internal, hidden enemy lurking in the lungs. Continue reading Breathe, Just Breathe

Corona Church

Life has temporarily changed. Pandemic. The world’s partially shut down because of the Chinese coronavirus.

Like this: we went to church Sunday, online!  We logged in on my iPad to watch Facebook live!  And no one else can see you.  If I’d known that, I wouldn’t have brushed my teeth or clipped my nails!

The first minutes are great, the kid’s part!  I understand that part, kind of a milk of the Word thing, ya know?

So I’m slurping on my spiritual glass of Borden’s watching the children’s minister when all the sudden a little angry face icon 😡 floats up the side of the screen!  That’s rude! It’s the kid’s part of the service for crying out loud!

Then there was another angry face, and another! It was terrible! I felt a self-righteous indignation!

But then I realized I was holding the IPad with my right hand at the bottom with my thumb on the angry face.  Every time I moved, my thumb pushed an angry face! Continue reading Corona Church

Sadie

If an animal can have a kind soul, it’s Sadie. She just has a sensitive spirit!

She’s a Porky, half Pomeranian, half Yorky.  Even as an adult dog, she’s permanent puppy size.  If she’s ever weighed more than 4 pounds, it’s only because her hair was wet!

Her little fox face and big, dark eyes give her the appearance of a harmless, nocturnal creature.

She quickly picks up on feelings, and well knows the regulars to our house.  She also knows children love to hold her like a baby doll, so she’s developed an adept ability to hide.

Yet when someone new comes over, she studies them a while before jumping in the chair beside them just to make the acquaintance. After a time or two of visiting though, she’s content to just sit on her blanket and watch from a distance.

Sadie’s 15 years old now, and it may sound strange to say, but when she was 6 years old she was traumatized.  My wife, Janet, let Sadie and her sister out early one morning.  A minute later, Janet heard an odd, chilling scream, one that sounded like a woman screaming, just outside her back door.

Janet ran outside. On the other side of the driveway, a black panther was running away toward the woods with Sadie’s sister in its mouth. Continue reading Sadie

INFJ Ramblings

Sometimes, like today, my mind turns without mercy, like a racing heartbeat when you sit still, or a mighty rushing wind on a cloudless, sunny day.

Twisting, turning, churning within, earthquakes of never ending thoughts, thoughts about everything, turn into tsunamis.  Raging waters flow uphill, gather speed on the way to the mountain top, then dribble down the backside of the mind’s mountain.

The depths don’t surrender the issues of thought. Those things taught, bought or caught by the mind don’t go away.  They dawdle, swirling in and out of consciousness, but always there.

It’s not what isn’t. It’s what is. Continue reading INFJ Ramblings

The Odds Are

“I think this trip is worthy of one of those Facebook story thingies you do!” one of my sons, Kyle said.  He’s technically a son-in-law, but more so, a son.

Another son, Todd, immediately added, “Yeah, I’m going to read one of your Facebook thingies at your funeral!”

Love was in the air.

My oldest son, Blake, was driving their family mini-van, and my other four sons were piled in seats behind us.

I didn’t know where we were going. In a group text, they asked if I wanted to do something, and then they all quickly chimed in that they were all “in”.

Experience told me to be cautious, especially with their secrecy.  Usually their schemes involve something dangerous, humiliating or involving a wild animal.

Not this time. We were already driving 1 ½ hours to Shreveport, Louisiana when they told me they were taking me to a casino.

I rolled my eyes.

The Odds Are story

I really don’t gamble.  Money equals time worked, and I try not to throw time away.

Once, years ago, I put a quarter in a slot machine and pulled the lever just to say I’d done it. I lost that quarter. I’ve missed it ever since.

On the other hand, I’ve lost money on “risky” companies in the stock market.  At least theoretically there’s a chance in that, as opposed to an acre of the moon I considered buying on line at Christmas for $79. (No joke! You can buy moon land on the internet!)

Continue reading The Odds Are

Rainy Days

It’s going to rain all day.  Some say how great that is. Others say it’s horrible.  It’s the same place, same day, almost the same people.

They know each other well, yet their perspectives differ vastly.  It’s not that one’s right, or one’s wrong.  It’s just, different.

For some, rainy days are sad, depressing, maybe even frightening when the wind roars and thunder rolls.

Maybe it’s a psychological reminder of rainy days and storms gone by, yet consequences of those days resonate in the soul.  There were things to do, places to go, plans made, and now, it’s all scrapped onto a rubbish pile while the clouds cry.

Maybe it’s figurative. Maybe the sun is just being lazy, sleeping in and resting in bed all day, occasionally dozing off under the dark, cloudy covers of the sky. Continue reading Rainy Days

Valentine’s Day Quandry

I stopped in the grocery store on the way home two nights ago.  Inside was a mini-madhouse of people planning to rush in to run out, but the checkout aisles were clogged.

I grabbed my items and stopped to look at candy on the Valentine’s Day aisle.  A high school boy, no more than 16 years old, stood wide mouthed staring.

He was obviously self-conscience and felt out of place, rubbing his thumbs in the palms of his hands.  I’m guessing his palms were moist, but his mouth was dry.  Nonetheless, he stood there gawking at the candy, cards and stuffed animals.

The fact that the young man was shopping three days ahead of time for a Valentine’s gift was a little surprising. Good for him!

So after I had looked up and down the aisle, the young fellow was still standing there shell shocked.  I couldn’t stand it anymore, so I asked if he was buying for his girlfriend.  He looked surprised, like I was a mind reader! Everyone in the store who cared to notice him instantly knew the same thing.

He quickly nodded. “Yes sir! There’s a lot of stuff here!” Continue reading Valentine’s Day Quandry

Dreamtown to Awakeville

It was a crazy dream!

I was zonked asleep, which is important, because sometimes I daydream.  In fact, sometimes blogging is like daydreaming, except with words.

Anyway, I was asleep dreaming.

My dreams are usually weird — near sighted blonde unicorns with measles playing frisbee golf while carrying spittoons for their chewing tobacco weird.  Unless you’re deranged, my dreams seldom make sense!

I dreamed about being in an open country field with rolling hills and tall grass as a contestant in a show similar to Wipe Out.  The next task in the show was to ride a merry-go-round for children. Continue reading Dreamtown to Awakeville

Stories about family, faith, friends and funnies. Pull up a chair. Grab a cup of coffee and laugh, cry, ponder and inspire about ordinary events of this wonderful, ever changing, bubbling pot that we call "every day life".

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