Psalm 139:17-18

In Bible study last night we had to rewrite Psalm 139. Here is what I got for :17-18:


"You never forget me.
You dwell on me constantly.
I wish I could count the times You think of me.
I open my eyes and there You are - - - waiting for me to wake up and be with You."



Thanks James.

Estate Sale

When I was a child, there were objects in the house that brought certain memories to the fore instantly - the pink thing, the roast pan, the picture of those mountains . . .

There are objects in my house full of memories as well. What they will say about me one day?

The apple bowl - Will people remember I always made the ranch in that?

the green angled egg plate - Will people remember my eggs that I brought to all the potlucks?

"Two Cows Under Mesquite Lit by Moonlight and Fireflies" - Will people grin at my silly art?

The cast iron pan with the wooden handle - Will Rob and Jarred remember the fried chicken?


. . . or will they all end up in an estate sale, people haggling over 75 cents.

What will be the things that my sons, my daughters-in-law, my sisters, my friends will want to take with them to remind them of me when I'm gone?

Wow. Heavy thoughts for a Friday.

Denver Mornings

When I was in Denver, every morning I would sit in bed while it was still dark and thank God - for that weather, for the birds out the window, for the fact that I got to spend time with Jaci and Jarred and the kids and then, faintly, would come:


"Oo . .. Ooo . . Oomah? You wakin?"

Turning my head to the left, there would be James, careful in his excitement that I might get up any second. Typing this, I am smiling and my eyes are filling.

I miss that bud.

From Colorado to Texas

I sit here, waiting for the Ambien CR to kick in, listening to Robert "breathe heavy', and to the cold rain that falls outside. It's 46 degrees. Tomorrow I leave for home.

Why have I been here? What has been accomplished?

How in the world has been only 3 weeks here in Colorado? Time has flown. I have fallen even more in love with Jah, JooLee, and Jocey (a fact that I wouldn't have believed possible before now), solidified my love for Jarred, and was able to link up with Jaci like I never have before - she let me in for the smallest amount of time - I realized that I love her not just because she's the mother to my babies, but because she's Jaci, and I am getting to know her -the person. I love to be around these people. It physically hurts to think of not having them in the house.

. . . and then . . .

I am so nuts about Robert. I see how much Pleasanton, and all the humidity, grass burrs and needy animals mean to me. It has been aeon's since I went there. I realize the power of home so acutely. Those people . . those ties . . . It physically thrills me to think of opening the door to those dumb dogs, who will fight to own me again.

What has been accomplished?

Everything.

Sept 2

Time tumbles down a bottomless black hole.

And you can't climb back out.

A Walk With Jocey

Sometimes Jocelyn doesn't want me to hold her hand. She shoots ahead, practically pushing me aside. When she falls, she looks back to me, accepts my hand and ten minutes later, I am pushed aside again.

Sometimes I don't give her a choice. Crossing streets are dangerous - the hill is too steep. I tell her: "Baby, if you'd just let me carry you, it would be so much easier, so much safer." But mostly I let her push me away. She needs to learn. How will she ever run if I hold her all the time?

This is, of course a direct correlation back to me and God. A perfect analogy of how I treat my Father.

But now, thanks to grand kids, I see it from a whole new view. "Jackie, if you'd just let me carry you, it would be so much easier, so much safer."

And I push Him away.

An Unveilling

Today I realized something. It hit me so hard, it was difficult to drive. Was at BAMSE again. Surrounded by all those people. Laughing, sneering, grumbling into cell phone, rolling their eyes at an old man in front of them . . .

Me - my actions, my words, my facial features, my body language, me . . I might be the shot these people get at Christ. Who He is. What He offers. How He aches to gather them as close as He gathers me.

Sobering. Really sobering when you consider:

". . . I don't feel like it."
" . . . it's not 'Me"
". . . But I don't want to!"

Can you honestly stand on eternity and see all the chances you had while standing in fount of God? Before Christ?

Get over it, Jackie. You are the only person Christ can use. You are important. You are vital.

An astounding revelation given my past.

God knew the Whole time

Let's call a spade a spade, shall we?

Since when did my wants override everything, everyone, even God?

Isiah 47:8 "I am. And there is no one besides me."
"I AM - and there is NO one besides me."

Ray is so right. The world is bitterly lost in itself.

The Written Word

I didn't kill my wife.
I didn't KILL my wife.
I didn't kill MY wife.
I didn't kill my WIFE..


The written word is a dangerous thing.

A Psalm

Father, I am so frightened. But not for me, but rather for this land.

We are moving so far from what was once. A thief of intimidation has put his foot in the door and now is forcing his way in. He mocks the very ideals that put him in the position that now gives him power.

We were built on the foundation of freedom. Like a rock in the shoe of the world, we demanded freedom from the highest hill. And brought it to rest with an exausted sigh, worthy of esteem.

Now to be bullied into submission. Now to be silenced by a needy crowd of dogs. Now to be torn apart because we have stood by our word, our beliefs, our honor.

Everyone sees, but no one perceives. They all hear exactly what they wish.

For You know. Only you can know.

Never has Your role seemed so clear.

Poor Sap

Yesterday was the work day of the week - heavy work day outside. I moved panels, moved horses, moved the obstacle course pieces, mowed the front, used the weed eater out front (got fire ants thrown into my shirt for my trouble . . they stung me twice), put the obstacle stuff back, watered the backyard, pulled the weeds from the flagstone . . . pretty much a smelly, make you-grin-cause-you-got-so-much-accomplished- kind of day.

Robert comes in and calls me to come outside. He then points to the flowers in my color garden and says; "When was the last time these got water?"

He was getting on to me. Like I was 8.

"Well, golly, officer, I have no idea how that lawn mower ended up on top of that guy . . ."

Good Name for a Book

So here Cheri is, all lonely, a week off work and desperate to ride. Because I really can't because of the heat, Jackie is the good sister and loads panels, horse, feed and hay into the trailer and loans out Chief to my sister for a week.

Chief (Fee-Boy-Pride-&-Joy-Playtime-Toy), the good horse. The sweet horse. The follow you like a dog horse. The "Reason-I-am trying-to re-breed-Tesster-because-he's- so-awesome" horse.

Yeah. Okay . . right . . . .

Chief, the one who screamed for 12 hours straight. The one who tired to jump out of a 5 foot paneled pen. The one who bolted and would not be stopped for a quarter mile. The one who spooked so high and hard, my sister (who is a batter rider than I) almost came off. The one who tried to bite her when they got home.

Yeah. That one. The one I bragged on until I was off the ground with pride.

If you wanna learn humility, buy a horse.

Ah, man!

Okay, so I learned the hard way that I can't handle heat anymore.

Got a lot done on Saturday (and it certainly had nothing to do with selling/promoting the book). It was 104 degrees. My face was as red as a tomato, heart racing, stomach stuff, headache, disorientation, exhausted . . . . I stayed in the shade as much as I could and drank waters but . . .

But come on! It's been 4 days and I 'm still really slowed because of the headache.

Anyhow, here comes Ray and Nell out of the store and they notice that I'm less than my usual self.
Ray looked at Tesst and said: "Must be bad for the horse too, huh?"
I told him; "Ray, she's fine. She is just a horse."
To which he smiled and replied; "I didn't think you knew that, Jackie."

24

re watching all the '24's from season 1.

Man, I'd forgotten how much I couldn't stand Kim.

And Terri ain't much better.

Jack was such a wimp in season 1.

Relativity

Everything, EVERYTHING is relative.

76 degrees is hot, until you come back in from 108.

My hands hurt like the devil, until there is a chance I might lose that hand.

Horses are a lot of work until you smell their hide.

Grand kids are noisy and messy until they're not there to make noise and messes.


The Bible is boring sometimes until you receive a true response from God.

Praying for someone is tedious sometimes until you see the results of that prayer.

Loving Robert is common everyday stuff until he grabs my cold hand in his sleep to get me warm.

Summer

The heat is here early this year.

The oven that is my home usually holds back for late July, August and September. Those are times that makes one hide inside, shutters down, fan oscillating, air conditioner whining. Those are the times you do not smile as you pay the electric bill. But, honestly, what choices are you offered? 76 degrees or 110? There is no option.

But summer came in early this year. The power of heat is almost scary. It snakes around the trees, suffocating in it's brutality. There is no way to be free of it. There is no way to endure it. How in the world did settlers ever decide to stop here? What was there about South Texas that lured people who ached to farm? How could those people survive? And how did they find the devotion to fight and kill for this land?

The temperature rises. And it's a month early.

Sunday

Jade walks a trail from the girls room, to James room, outside, then back, her ears down, her eyes watchful. She's looking for the kids, of course. She sneaks in and sleeps on Jame's bed and lays on the sheets from JooJoo's.

With a slow, painful kind of resignation, she limps back to me, pushing her head under my hand, staring up with puzzled eyes.

She's just a dog with questions.
"Where did they go?"
"Did they forget me?"
"Are they coming back?"
"Jackie, you aren't leaving too, are you?"

I understand the beauty of dogs more each passing year.

Friday's comin.

Today I looked up and it was 4 o'clock.

How did it get so late so fast? Time is speeding forward. Like swirling water down the drain, my time is gone with these guys. When I first had them, it seemed like the day they would be gone was far away. Now it's not.

I think I'll go give them some candy.

JooJoo

So here I am, hearing Julie doing something she's not supposed to. So I tell her; "Julie, you need to go into the living room.
Not missing a beat, she says; "Oo-mah, you need to work your farm."

HA!!

James

This morning, I was laying in bed, in and out of sleep when I felt a gentle caress through my hair. Smiling, I opened my eyes to James, grinning back at me.

So I pulled him up in the bed and we talked about the swimming we were going to do later. He talked quietly, letting me wake up. Then we went out and fed the horses together. When we got back, Julie and Jocey were up, waiting for me to come into their room. They were both smiling.

I am so going to miss these guys.