Well, this is my third day home from my week long travels and I still have clothes to put away and paperwork to file. There are also dirty dishes in my sink. These are left from several things. I made a pie on Friday afternoon. The recipe on Facebook looked interesting. The resulting pie was interesting, but I won't make it again. The frozen lemonade, sweetened condensed milk and whipped topping made it way too sweet, at least for my taste. My grand kids are now in possession of it.
There are dirty dishes from the chili I heated up for lunch yesterday, and the pan from my zucchini/ egg scramble I fixed this morning. After I drink my mango-peach herbal tea, I will have a cup to add to the dirty glasses on the counter. It could be worse. I will get it taken care of after lunch.
I didn't go to church this morning. I took advantage of the electronic age and watched our service on the internet. As usual the sermon was good. For some reason my mind kept wandering to the work done at my place while I was gone. (See yesterday's post) The warmth of that blessing still surrounds me. I am trying to decide how to adequately thank the group of folks that worked so hard--especially the kids.
I also kept thinking about my granddaughter who turned fifteen yesterday. We took time to look through her baby album Friday after dinner with her friends. All the pictures of a rosy cheeked, smiley faced, impish little girl who is now a beautiful young lady brought back wonderful memories as well as lots of laughs.
She is the little girl who took home the most beautiful slug she had ever seen--the one she found in my yard and saved in a plastic bag. She is the one who played on the swing for almost an hour while waiting for her Papa to come push her way up high.
I remember the day she came out from under the deck at her house carrying a plastic bucket full of who-knows-what. After her dad asked what she had, she replied, "Yahts and yahts of shwews." Translation? Lots and lots of shrews. These critters were remnants from the cats' hunting expeditions, all in various stages of "ashes to ashes and dust to dust".
She is the little girl who was walking around the yard talking to something in her hands. It turned out to be a dead bird she was praying for. After being told to put it in the grass on the the field side of the fence, she gave it a big kiss and a gentle toss. Then she went off in search of another adventure.
After church one day she asked why Jesus was taking so long. "What?" asked her mother, completely confused.
"Why is Jesus taking so long? My teacher said he want to prepare a place for us. What's taking him so long?"
She is a volleyball player, high jumper, 4x400 relay runner,music lover and home-body. Whoa, let me back up a minute. All the things I have just listed about her, are not who she is. They are what she does, what she enjoys, and what comes to mind at the mention of her name, but they are not who she is.
Miss Ra-bug, as we call her, is a very gentle, loving child of God with a giving heart who, at times, can also be rough, negative, and stand-offish. I pray for her often. I pray she will seek out God's plan for her life. I pray that the trauma she went through at her Papa's hands will not leave ugly scars, but rather will equip her to help other girls and women who have gone through similar experiences. She is a very special young woman.
Happy birthday, and many blessings, Miss Ra-bug, Enjoy being 15.
Nana/Jan
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