They lived in the small town where I grew up; when she called the ambulance, it only took them a few minutes to get there, but I’m sure it must have seemed like an eternity to her.  Since I had moved to another town with my three children after a divorce, she couldn’t immediately get in touch with me- I was getting the kids to school while all this was happening. When I finally got to work, my sweet sister-in-law Myrtie called to make sure I was okay, and to tell me that she’d get the kids after school, so I could leave and come home to be with them at the hospital.

Most of the rest of that day is a blur; I know I rode with them in the ambulance to Montgomery, and I remember the doctor talking to all of us in the hall, but not much about what he said.

I do know that the doctors first told Mama that he wouldn’t make it through the night. Nevertheless, the next morning, he was still with us; again, the doctors, trying to be kind and not build up false hopes, told us that even if he lived, he’d be a vegetable. I think that’s the day that he told Mama if she would just put his feet on the floor, he thought he could get up and walk… Then the doctors said, well even if he’s aware of what’s going on around him, he’ll certainly never walk on his own.

They had many visitors over the next days, while they waited to see what steps to take next.  One visit that I will never forget (Mama told me about it later) was from their friend Bob.  Bob and his family attended First Baptist Church with my folks, and they had served on committees together, and were deacons in the church – Bob also owned the local funeral home in town.   Since Daddy seemed to be asleep when Bob got there, and he and Mama were talking quietly; I’m sure he was asking if there was anything Mama and Daddy needed, and making sure that they knew everyone was praying for them. After a few minutes, Daddy opened his eyes and saw Bob standing there, and said, “You can go home, Bob. We don’t need you yet.”

During the time that Daddy stayed at the rehab place (about 6 weeks), Mama was there every day, cheering him on.  He worked as hard as he could on every task they gave him, and didn’t give up. And Mama didn’t either- she cooked his favorite things and took them to him, to ‘supplement’ the meals he got at rehab.  It was tough on her, but she kept doing what needed to be done.

They never gave up, and they still haven’t given up.  Daddy still works on his computer every day (he has a spreadsheet that can tell you how much he’s paid for gas, how many miles per gallon they get for each tank, and how much each miles costs!)and loves Auburn football; he also enjoys playing games on the computer, and sending emails. (When he hears that someone has had a stroke, he always sends encouragement to them, telling them to work as hard as they can at their rehabilitation so they can get better. ) Mama takes care of him every day, cooking for him, making sure he has what he needs and just being a good wife- and you know, that’s what Valentine’s is all about, don’t you think?

Oh yeah, one other thing… you know, the doctor told him he’d never walk again – well, here’s the rest of the story. Daddy got out of the rehab center right before Easter, and went back for a followup visit to the same doctor. When he came into their checkup room, Daddy looked at him and said, “You said I’d never be able to walk again; but I want you to know that I walked into this office on my own!” The doctor told him he’d never been so glad to be wrong in his life.

As he sits in his seat, he tries to decide what to do with the quarter he got by mistake. First, he thinks that he’ll keep it- after all, the bus company already makes plenty of money, and no one would miss it. Then he realizes that even though it’s only a quarter, it’s still wrong to keep it, because it doesn’t belong to him.

As he gets off the bus, he hands the driver the quarter and says “You gave me too much change earlier.”  The bus driver smiles at him and says, “Aren’t you the new preacher? I gave you too much change intentionally, to see how you’d handle it.  I’ve been trying to decide on which church to go to- I’ll see you Sunday.”

When the preacher gets off the bus, he’s almost rocked to his knees, and thinks, ‘Oh Lord- I almost sold your son for a quarter.’

That may be a sappy story, but it has a good message anyway.  Because like it or not, if you’re a Christian, the people around you watch you every day to see how you’re going to handle bad news, problems, gossip,  rude customers, angry bosses, unreasonable requests.

And what’s an even scarier thought – what kind of witness are you to the “invisible” people who are watching you when you don’t realize it. People who are around you, but not noticeable- like serving staff in a restaurant, or the person who waits on you at your grocery store or department store;  the clerk at your post office. These people are right in front of you, but because of what they do, you aren’t always completely aware of them. How many times have you gone through the checkout line without actually recognizing  the person ringing you up? How many times have you let out your anger or frustration about your job on the waitress who just brought your lunch? How many times have you treated the “invisible” people as less than human?

Because I work part-time in a deli, I’ve seen people act in ways I wouldn’t have believed. It’s like they don’t even see me and my co-workers… I posted on Facebook last year, right after starting my job, that a real friend loves you even when you’re wearing your hairnet. I said it as a joke, but there’s a lot of truth in it.

The next time you’re out and about, watch for the “invisible people”; when you see one, pretend that person is your daughter or son – because that person IS someone’s son or daughter.

And remember- as trite as this may sound- sometimes you are the only “Jesus” someone sees.  Don’t you want to be a good representation of Him?

Many years ago, he started the Dark Tower series, which are related in one way or another to almost all of his other books. One theme running throughout those books are “all things serve the Beam” – the Beam being a force for good that holds all things together.

I heard James Dobson say one morning on Focus on the Family that everything serves God – even Madonna. When he said that, I started arguing with him immediately… there’s no way that Madonna serves God! Look at how she dresses and acts!  But the more I thought about it, the more I knew he was right. Everything serves God – everything.  The good and the bad can point you back to God, if you’ll allow it to.  Bad things serve God by giving us a reason to lean on Him and trust Him. Good things serve God by giving a reason to be thankful.

So… back to Stephen King. As I said, he’s one of my favorite authors. Yes, he can be gruesome. Yes, he uses ugly language. Yes, he’s scary (after all, he says he has the heart of a small boy – in a jar on his desk! LOL).  But he serves God, just like his characters serve the Beam (and can’t that be a metaphor for God, just like Aslan the Lion?).  When I read one of King’s books and laugh, my husband always says, “I thought you were reading a Stephen King book- why are you laughing?” And I always say, “Because he’s got a wicked sense of humor, and because there’s truth in there.” I find sermons all through King’s work.

All things serve the Beam – and the Beam and King serve God.

I’ve always liked my hair long, rather than wearing it short – it’s just easier for me to keep it that way.  If it’s short, I have to wash it every day, which tends to make it flyaway and brittle. Longer hair I can do every other day, and it’s still manageable.

When I first started riding, I tried regular cotton doo-rags- of course, I always had helmet hair, but I thought that was just part of the deal. While I wore it, though, my head itched, and I could feel the heat coming off my head when I took off the doo rag; my hair was always mashed flat and damp from sweating.  Lately I’d just started putting on my helmet with no doo rag; the helmet interior pulled my hair and my pony tail got tangled, but again, I figured that was part of the deal.

So when Randy and I saw a booth at Thunder Beach with the claim that this doo rag prevented tangles and helmet hair, I had to challenge the lady. She had waist-length hair and said she had invented this new thingie because she got tired of her husband having to wait on her while she got ready to ride.  After she showed me how it worked,  and I felt the material, I thought it was worth a try, so I bought one (tiger stripes!).

You can believe me or not, but that’s been one of the best purchases I’ve made lately.   I wore mine all day Saturday while we rode- when we’d stop, I’d take it off and shake my hair out and it didn’t even look like I’d been riding! While we were riding I couldn’t even really tell I was wearing anything; my head didn’t get hot or itch; and my hair didn’t get mashed down flat.  The material is stretchy and breathable, so no sweat or heat built up underneath it, and it also didn’t cause any static to build up in my hair.

The real test came when we started home and crossed the state line into Alabama- ‘bama has helmet laws so I had to put it back on, but my head still didn’t get as hot as it usually does, and it seemed to fit better.  When we got home that night, again, I took the liner off and brushed my hair with my fingers and fluffed it up and it was fine. Obviously, mine isn’t going to look like I’ve just blow-dried it out (I have a LOT of hair), but just knowing it wasn’t plastered to my head made me appreciate it.

You need to check out Anna’s website to see all the details of how it works and the styles she’s got – Raci-Babi – I’ll be putting in an order for the Avatar Blue on next- its gorgeous!

Ladies, this is a great product! If your hair is at least shoulder-length, this is something you need to check out. Once you try it, I promise you that you won’t want to go back to a regular doo rag.

It’s  like my Facebook wall, or a scrapbook. The patches and pins I wear each have a story. For example, the patch I wear on my back is this one:

Bikers and riders who belong to an MC, RC or MM wear their club patch on their back, usually with nothing else, especially if they have to earn the patch.  Because Randy and I aren’t affiliated with any club, we wear this patch to show honor and respect to our military.  (We do belong to the Patriot Guard, but it’s not considered a club.)

Along the bottom back of our vests, we wear patches that tell about significant events.  I’ve got a patch from the Tail of the Dragon (where I learned to trust myself in curves, as well as trusting God to take care of me in all situations), the Apalachicola  Escort (we were part of a mile’s worth of bikes riding to escort the moving wall through parts of Florida, while thousands of people stood along side the road to salute the Viet Nam veterans who rode with us), and the 2009 Thunder Beach Spring Rally.

The front of my vest has pins that have special meaning to me.  On my right side, under my name patch are ten little metal heart charms, one for each of my grandchildren: Hunter, Dylan,  Chloe, Khloe, Layney, Destiny, Nevaeh, Reid, Talan and Esme.

On the left side, under my PGR patch, are mission pins.  Some missions were funerals for military or emergency first responders; others were welcome-home missions.

Some patches are for specific people- Bill “Snap” Lines was a great friend to everyone in the PGR; when he was killed in a traffic accident, some of his friends had a special patch made up.

And finally, I have some that are funny, but tell a little about me;  for example this one:

I always enjoyed watching “I Dream of Jeannie” when I was young; no matter how much she tried to help, she ended up causing trouble more times than not. I kinda feel like that most days.

Of course, these are only some of my pins and patches; you’ll just have to check out the rest of them the next time you see me. If you have other friends who ride, check out their vest as well.  Every one is individual, so you’ll probably learn something.

And as for the question of leather chaps and jacket – I do enjoy the look and feel of the leather, but  I wear my leathers for the same reason I wear a seatbelt – safety.  If I go down, they offer another layer of protection between the road’s surface and me.

See you on the road!

But that’s where my mechanical knowledge ends. Randy will have to look at the rest to see what’s usable and what isn’t.

I am happy with myself that I know at least that much about tools and what they’re used for; I did recognize the oil filters for our bikes, and the filter wrench that’s used to take them off. I’m also glad I know how to use most of the tools out there – I still have to tell myself ‘righty tighty – lefty loosy’, but that’s OK.  I like wrenching my own ride, and having the self-confidence that comes from knowing how to do some of those things.

Just looking at all those tools out there, I’m tempted to go through them and pick out a set for my own- if I hide them in a pink tool box, you think I might stand a chance?

This is Bear -  she’s our daughter Jennifer’s dog. She’s a cute little thing, very smart and as sweet as she can be.  She truly wants to please us in all she does. When she messes up (usually by having potty accidents), she shows us she’s sorry by hanging her head.

Bear was a throw-away dog. I was on my way to Troy the day after Thanksgiving; I pulled over to pick up my water bottle from the floor, and when I checked for traffic, I saw her and her brothers and sisters lying in a heap beside the road. It was a cold, wet morning, and I knew if I didn’t pick them up, they’d get run over.  So I gathered them up and brought them home with me.

I know- you’re probably thinking I’ve got “sap” tattooed on my forehead; that’s exactly how I felt, too. Imagine having five little puppies in a house that already has two dogs.  My husband thought I was crazy, and to be honest, when I was cleaning up poop from five puppies, I thought so too.  (Even little puppies can poop a lot!) My dogs thought I was crazy too.

Our daughter Jennifer did a great job helping me find homes for the puppies- well, for four of the puppies. She said from the start that she wanted to keep the smallest one, and it’s hard to turn her down when she really wants something.

But I didn’t want another dog- we didn’t need another dog- it’s tough enough walking, feeding, watering and loving on two dogs, much less three.  I wondered if it was worth all the trouble to have this little unexpected puppy in our house. Between her constant chewing on things, our attempts at house-training her, the teasing and barking at Cookie and Tink- it’s been a tough row to hoe since November.  Sometimes I still think it’s too much trouble – but all I have to do is sit down and she comes up to lay that sweet face on my knee, and I know she’s worth it all.

I guess there are some folks who think that I didn’t make a very good choice – there are a lot of reasons I could have left them on the side of the road, and I’m sure most folks wouldn’t have blamed me. But I knew when I saw those puppies on the side of that busy road, I had to pick them up.  I couldn’t have left them there under any circumstances. I’m glad I made the choice that I did – it’s been tough, but I think the blessings we get from her, no matter how unexpected, will be worth any trouble we go through.

To quote from the movie Seabiscuit: “You know, you don’t throw a whole life away just ’cause it’s banged up a little.”

Like other churches, we started on January 10th – I’ve fasted in the past for a day or two, drinking only water and juices, so I wasn’t sure exactly what to expect.  Since I work in a deli, I thought seeing all the fried chicken and sweets would give me a lot of trouble, but for the most part that hasn’t bothered me. Once or twice the deli manager made a particularly scrumptious dessert featuring peaches or blueberries, and I had to be careful.

One thing I didn’t figure I’d have any trouble with is bread -  I like a good sandwich or buttered biscuit as much as the next person, but I don’t have to have bread at every meal.  But about a week into the fast, I was standing in the deli, thinking about tortillas. We’d picked up some corn tortillas to cook during the fast, but I really wanted some flour tortillas. I’d been looking for some whole-wheat ones, but so far, they either had yeast or sugar, so they’re not allowed. I really wanted some flour tortillas – and the thought hit me- who would know? What’s the big deal anyway, about a little yeast? Just as quickly, I felt a tap on my shoulder, and God said in my ear, “I’d know”.

Talk about a wake-up call! I wasn’t really going to get any flour tortillas, but the fact that I was arguing with myself told me I had some things I needed to work out.

God and I had a good discussion that afternoon about yeast and what it can represent.  Yeast can represent sin – it gets in and works itself into every part of your life. It can represent pride- yeast causes bread to ‘puff up’. Pride does that to us – it puffs us up so that we think we’re bigger than we really are.  Yeast can also represent waiting- anyone who has ever made yeast bread knows that a big part of the process is waiting for the bread to rise. When God asks us to do something, He doesn’t want us to wait – He wants us to do it NOW.  That’s why the Israelites had to make unleavened bread on Passover night- they had to be ready to go immediately when God gave the command- they couldn’t wait for bread to rise, so they could bake it. They sat at their dinner table, eating the Passover lamb with their coats on, shoes fastened, staffs and walking sticks at hand, clothes packed, ready to go. God wanted them to be instantly obedient, and He wants the same from us.

I used to tease my kids when they were younger- I’d ask them to do something, and they would say “But, Mama!” and I would say, “I’m not a but mama, and you’re not but kids.”  I’ve been reminded during this fast that God isn’t a but God, either.

There have been so many changes:

• my older son and his girlfriend are now out of the service
• our youngest daughter’s boyfriend is stationed in Afghanistan
• our church has a new pastor, who has brought his wonderful family along with him- they’re a wonderful addition to our church family
• I started working in the deli at a local grocery store
• several dear people have gone on ahead of us:  Bill “Snap” Lines, Larry Posey, Waverly Williams, Tiffany Weeks, Ms Lillie Mae Duncan

These are just a few of the things that have happened over the last year. It would probably take me a year to tell you about all of them. They went by so quickly- there’s a saying that life is like a roll of toilet paper; the closer to the end, the faster it goes – and that is so true.  Our youngest daughter is halfway through her senior year of high school- it only seems like a few months ago that she started school.

If I were to make resolutions about 2011, they would be that I spend more time with family and loved ones, more timer in prayer and Bible study, and more time learning or doing things that matter.

May 2011 be blessed for you and your family.

One of their favorite things is a walk outside- all I have to do is pick up the expandable leashes, or slip on my shoes and they get so excited they can hardly stand it.   After I snap on their leashes, and we go outside, they both head in different directions – Tink is over here smelling of some leaves, and Cookie is over there barking at a squirrel in the tree.

Things really get interesting when the leashes get tangled up. I try my best to keep them straight, but all the running, barking, jumping and playing just makes them a big knot.  Each of them wants to go their own way, but the knot has them ‘yoked’ together. You’d think that Cookie, who is a very strong little dog, and weighs about 20 pounds, would have the advantage of Tinkerbell, who weighs about 7 pounds after a bath.   But you’d be wrong.  When Tink decides she’s going that way, Cookie just has to go along for the ride.  She makes a big lunge, and off they go. It doesn’t take too long until she’s just pulling him everywhere, and then he just gives up and follows along behind her.

To me, this is a good illustration of  II Cor. 6:14, regarding being yoked with non-believers. I don’t mean you can’t be friends with someone of a different religion, and I don’t mean you can’t have relationships with people of other faiths. But it does mean that your closest relationships should be with those of your faith.   A marriage should be two people pulling in the same direction together, not pulling against each other.  According to the Bible, when you marry someone, the two of you become parts of a whole. Imagine if your left leg and right leg wouldn’t work together – how are you going to get anywhere?

And just like little Tinkerbell and Cookie, whoever has the strongest will in a relationship is going to rule that relationship. They’ll go the direction they want to, and the other person can come along, or be dragged along.  Are you going to let the non-believer pull you away from God, or do you think you’re going to force them to come to God? Either way, you’re asking for trouble.