Monday, December 27, 2021

Finding a Spouse

 


How do you meet the perfect mate?

Many people encounter their spouse via the Internet. In fact, two of our daughters met their mates through a dating service website and both are happily married.

I wrote about a couple getting together over one of those popular places. Sarah and the Internet Dating Service. It remains one of my most sought after books, so I suppose many individuals are interested in a service to provide possible mates.


I personally recommend a church—that’s where I met my hubby. Times change, and I'm happy about that.

During Biblical times, marriages were arranged. On the other hand, some unions had unusual beginnings. Here are a few:

How about the first recorded marriage?  Remember Adam? He gained a wife but lost a rib in the process. (Genesis 2:19-24)

You could keep it in the family, like marry your half-sister. Founding Father Abraham did just that. (Gen 20:12) It's against the law, so I don't recommend it.

Why not marry your cousins, similar to Abraham’s grandson, Jacob. He searched for a wife, found two cousins and labored fourteen years as a shepherd for their dad so he could have them as wives. (Genesis 29: 15-30)

Try a party. Go to one, hide, and when you see a woman dancing, carry her off to your home. (Judges 21:19-25)

Ruth was a widow, and her mother-in-law suggested that she sleep at the feet of Boaz in the barn. When Ole Boaz woke up, he realized he had to marry her. (Book of Ruth)

You could hold a beauty contest like King Xerxes did. (Esther 2)

These are interesting, true stories, and there are many more similar to these strange marriages in the Good Book.

How did you meet your mate? I'd love to hear from you, and I think you'd enjoy my Sarah book as she mangles the Internet. 


 

On Amazon

  Shy Karen Newton…handsome Jeremy Spencer…Sarah, the unfamiliar computer operator. Why did the Superiors assign her the task of uniting this couple via the Internet? Hilarious fiascoes abound.

 

Tuesday, November 16, 2021

The Green-Eyed Monster

 

 


A few weeks ago, I was hired by a company to telephone their clients and remind them of an upcoming event.  These days, many of us work from home, and I discovered that if a person doesn't recognize the name or the number displayed on their device, they often don't answer the phone, so I leave messages.

I called a Bill Fiserdelley. (Not a real name. I can’t tell you who it really was). Anyway, Bill didn’t answer, so I left a message and continued with my phone calls.

About ten minutes later, my phone rang. I didn’t recognize the displayed number, but since I’m phoning people I don’t know, I thought it best to answer. It might be one of the clients calling back to ask a question. Many do.

It was ole Bill’s wife on the phone. I suppose she had listened to the message and heard my female voice. Perhaps she’d noted a lady's name on the caller ID. She rang me back. The conversation went something like this:

Wife:  "Did you just now call Bill?" (Her tone sounded irate.)

Me:  (His name didn't immediately come to mind, but being the quick mind that I am, I replied) "Yes, I'm calling to make sure he knows about our event coming up in San Diego. He attended last year, and we hope he can attend again this year."

Wife:  "Oh."

Me:  "Did he get our company email?"

Wife: "Maybe. Would you resend it?"

Me:  Certainly, I’ll be happy to send it to you.” I ended the phone call.

She must be one curious wife.

On the other hand, she might be a jealous, suspicious spouse.

Living with Jealousy can’t be fun or productive.

Perhaps ole Bill gave his wife a reason to be green-eyed. If so, that’s sad, too.

Maybe she’s trying to trust her husband after an infidelity. I’ve known several wives who’ve experienced unfaithful husbands and now have a healthy, happy marriage.

Was it easy for them?

Absolutely not!

Learning to trust a mate again after a betrayal is a day-to-day occurrence.

If the husband is faithful, and the wife is merely jealous because she chooses to be, then that’s a miserable situation also.  It’s not healthy. Suspicion doesn’t build a strong marriage.

Jealousy can exist in other relationships besides marriage. I’ve seen co-workers with the green-eyed monster. Children are often jealous of each other in the classroom—even after adulthood, siblings continue to envy each other . Wherever people gather, jealousy can materialize.

What Is Jealousy?

Anyone can experience a stab of this emotion. A person may perceive an individual as a threat in a marriage, workplace, or family situation.

Anger and depression usually accompany jealousy. Severe jealousy can lead to physical violence.

What to do about that awful, possessive feeling?

My suggestion is to talk freely about it with someone you trust. Sometimes a friend can help, but more often than not, a trained therapist is whom you should seek.

And don’t forget to tell your anxieties to the Lord! He understands.  After all, He tells us He is a jealous God.

“You shall not bow down to them, for I the LORD your God am a jealous God.”  Exodus 20:5.

God is perfect, and His jealousy is not a sin. He expects us to love and worship Him, and He does not want us to worship anything or anyone other than Him.

Even though our jealousy is sin, and God’s isn’t, God understands it! Isn’t He amazing? Ask Him to forgive you of your jealousy, and then talk to a therapist. Throw that negative emotion away and never invite it back into your life. It destroys relationships and makes you miserable.

                               Faith and Humor

Monday, November 1, 2021

The Little Old Lady from Pasadena, oops, I mean from India!

 

I had an unusual experience at the grocery store today. A lot of weird stuff happens to me, so I’ve learned to take most of the incidents in stride. Here’s another one.

As I unloaded my grocery cart and placed sacks into the backseat of my car, a little old lady from India appeared from nowhere.

Oh, I know, she was from somewhere, but I didn’t see her approach. So, she surprised me, and as far as I knew, she came from somewhere…like nowhere.

She made me think of my little angel, Sarah. The angel I write about in my fantasy novels. Sarah is always popping up to astonish someone. She can assume any disguise and can speak with any accent she chooses.  She has made several appearances on earth as a little old lady named Estella, but she arrived as an American and spoke English.

This tiny, old lady dressed in traditional attire from India spoke in broken English. She said, “How many rolls of toilet paper did you buy?”

My eyebrows shot up. Where did you come from, and why are you asking about my toilet tissue? I looked around. She had no shopping cart with her, and no one was nearby. Just this small lady wrapped in a Sari with traditional headgear.

She held in her hands a plastic see-through coin purse full of nickels and pennies.

She spoke again. “How many rolls of toilet paper did you buy?”

I replied, “I beg your pardon?”

“How many rolls of toilet paper did you buy?”

“I don’t know. Why?” 

“I see three packages.” She pointed to my bags inside my car and opened her coin purse.

“I’m not selling any.” I responded.

She smiled. “If you go back inside, they will give you one for free.”

Yesterday was Halloween. What sort of trick was this lady playing?

Once more, I’m looking around. What’s next? A black cat jeering at me?

I replied, “Thanks, that’s nice to know.” I closed my rear passenger door and prepared to get into the driver’s seat.

“Go inside and get one for free.”

I nodded. “Thanks for the information.”

I closed my door. As fast as a cheetah, I examined the interior of my car. Nothing appeared out of place.

I watched the lady amble off toward another row of cars.

I drove away with my three rolls of tissue.

You'll find Sarah on Amazon and all online booksellers.

                            ON AMAZON


Thursday, September 30, 2021

Another Lucy Ricardo Moment

 


I write about a petite, dyslexic angel, Sarah.  Her chaos reminds me of Lucy Ricardo. I get my ideas for Sarah from MY Lucy-life experiences.

Take what happened to me yesterday as an example.

I went to Costco. That store is laid out in a bizarre fashion, and I find it difficult to find my car when I leave the store. I park next to the liquor sign so I have a better chance to find my auto. Like Angel Sarah, I’m dyslexic. Parking near the liquor sign doesn’t always help. As a pastor’s wife, I'm embarrassed when I ask for directions to the liquor part of the store. 

To top that off, I fell once when I stumbled over one of the concrete, parking stops as I looked for the liquor sign. I was carrying packages and didn’t see the block. A man helped me up and we searched for my car. I told him I parked near the liquor section. I said to him, “I’m not drinking.”  He replied, “Yes mam.”

Yesterday, while at Costco, a downpour came. I waited until it slacked and raced to my car. I was proud of myself for finding it. Oops! The door wouldn’t open. I glanced into the front seat. My stuff wasn’t there. I was trying to open a red car like mine. In the meantime, rain was coming down.

I glanced down the aisle. Another red car. Thankfully, it was the correct one. I got in and drove to Hobby Lobby.

It was still raining hard, but there was a picture frame I wanted. I pulled into a spot next to a big SUV. The lady in the driver’s seat had the motor running and was obviously waiting for the rain to end.

I had a pop-up umbrella in the back seat. I reached for it, and finally opened the contrary thing. “Yay!” I said to myself.

I began my trek to the store as the rain pelted my green umbrella. It was in one hand and my purse rested on my shoulder. As I got to the place where cars cross, traffic stopped for me. I nodded to several and waved. When I lifted my foot out of a puddle to continue, the sole of my shoe came off! 

I held up my foot and there it was—the sole of my sandal dangled from my shoe. I smiled at the lady in the first car. She was laughing. I shrugged. How could I get back to my car? I finally made an executive decision and pulled the shoe off. I then hobbled back to my car.

The SUV driver was still waiting. Now she was watching me. She didn’t want me to bang into her vehicle as I get into mine.  I carefully opened my door.

I couldn’t get the green umbrella to close.

I begged the thing to cooperate.  It was stubborn.

I threw the open umbrella into the backseat. “I’ll deal with you later.” I spoke sharply to the thing.

I made it home.

The shoes are now in the trash.

I ordered a picture frame from Amazon.

 Faith and Humor

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thursday, September 9, 2021

The Floating Intruder

 


My daughter likes to send flowers and always has the florist attach a balloon.


The helium balloon pictured above has been floating at the ceiling in my entrance hall since my birthday last July. When I removed it from the flowers, it escaped to the ceiling. Out of the goodness of my heart, or perhaps a few of my lazy bones, I let it stay there. 

The thing waited two months and then made its way to our bedroom.  How did the intruder choose our bedroom and duck through the doorway? Spooky.

Hubby prepared for bed before I did. When the roaming balloon drifted by him on its way to my side of the bed, a surprised hubby jumped up and said, “What the heck?” It seemed to say to him, “Nanny, nanny, poo, poo. I'll just stay here with you.” He thought it might be fun to see my reaction when I encountered it, so he swatted it and the intruder sailed to my side of the bed. 

The fan blew back to him. Hubby whacked it back to my side and waited with concealed merriment to see it scare me.

When I arrived, the crazy balloon was bopping at my height— gazing at me smack-dab in the face! It seemed to have a huge grin. I think the thing wanted to sleep with me! 

Anyway, the invader met its demise. Hubby deflated the intruder.

Faith and Humor

 

 

Friday, September 3, 2021

 

Why I’m Proud of My Freedom

By Dee Breedlove James

Edited by Gay N. Lewis

 

Recently my pastor’s wife, Gay Lewis, reminded us at the end of Sunday School how lucky we are to have our freedom and to pray for those that don’t. 


Dee Breedlove James speaking at church

It took me back several years to when I worked in the middle east. I worked in Doha, Qatar, Abu Dhabi, Dubai and Basra, Iraq. For me, probably the worst was Doha because I lived in town and was free to go wherever I wanted.

 But being an American had its limitations, especially if you wanted to worship. There was no Baptist Church (it was mainly 7th day Adventists, Catholics, and Jehovah Witness). We got one day off a week, Friday, and that’s the only day you could attend a church. And the churches were about 45 minutes from my apartment in the worst section of town, the industrial portion. The churches were small, with no outside decorations. We were not allowed to have Bible study in a group or in our apartment, we would face jail time if caught practicing our faith. I couldn’t even bring my bible into country. If found in my suitcase at the airport (and they did x-ray all incoming bags) it would either be thrown away or I would be thrown in jail.  The same if they found anything alcohol in our bags. I shared a car, as did most of the expats working for Fluor. I was scared driving (we took turns) because if you were in a wreck with a local, it was always your fault, no matter what. If was bad and the local wanted to press charges, you would be thrown in jail. We weren’t allowed to hang a cross or have anything Christian in our cars, you would be arrested if seen.

 My first Christmas I got to come back home to Houston, and my best friend gave me a good bottle of Champagne. Not thinking, I put it in my suitcase. When my bag was x-rayed (I had forgotten the Champagne) they saw the bottle shape and stopped me. Fearful of going to jail I luckily had shampoo and conditioner bottles in my bag that I was able to convince them was the shape they saw (I had the champagne wrapped and hidden well) They wouldn’t dig far in our bags if we were female and had “undergarments” on top they could see—it was against their religion. So, I was let through but I never tried that again I was so frightened! I had learned my lesson.

Locals were not allowed to drink alcohol or they faced flogging or jail time. The only liquor allowed was in the hotel bars, there were no stand alone bars. Expats were allowed to visit the ONE liquor store but you were allotted only so much per month depending on your salary. The only time you could have liquor in your vehicle was transporting from the store to your house/apartment.

You could not show any affection towards the opposite sex (even if you were married). If a local saw you and it upset them you would answer to the police (maybe even arrested). You could not have the opposite sex in your apartment if you would were not married. If you checked into a hotel with the opposite sex, be prepared to show your marriage license.

During Ramadan (the holy month for Muslims) the police would be out in force. If you were not covered well enough (for a local, it meant your shoulders and knees) you either covered up with what you had with you, to their approval, or you faced jail time. You could not even chew gum out in public, again you faced jail time.

Needless to say, it was a strict environment and I towed the line as I had heard about the jails and there was no way I wanted to be thrown in there!

I worked in Abu Dhabi and Dubai, UAE but lived in a hotel and didn’t have much opportunity to be out. We weren’t even told where the churches were much less when we could worship. All the same rules apply.

I worked in Basra, Iraq for several years but lived in a Mancamp (the old Army DS6 camp) which was several miles (about 30-40) outside the main town of Basra. We were not allowed to leave the camp for any reason due to security issues. ISIS was in full force while I was there and due to threats for our safety, we had to evacuate several times. I was the only woman with about 400 men. Some were locals and most were very nice to me. There were a few who actually had conversations with me and wanted to tell me of their Muslim religion and asked me about God and Jesus. I appreciated their conversations; it was the only time I could speak about my religion.

I was usually the only expat woman at the local airport and stood out like a sore thumb! The other women (which were few) were locals and were fully covered. But they never said anything to me about showing my hair. I was usually dressed in jeans, work shirt and steel toe boots. Your suitcase was usually opened and gone through to make sure you had no contraband but being as there was no female security I was pushed through. No guard wanted to open my suitcase and chance seeing my “privates”  (lingerie) After a year they finally hired some women who would pat me down excessively! It was a strict environment but it wasn’t noticed much because we couldn’t go into town.

Note from Gay: An Expat is anyone non local.

Supposedly the area we were in was the location of the Garden of Eden. And the “tree of life” was on our location. The tree was cordoned off and had wire around it and you were not to touch.

After living in such a strict environment for so long you can understand why I wanted to kiss the ground when I came home. It really makes you appreciate the freedoms we have here. I for one took it for granted until those rights were taken away from me.

Sunday, August 22, 2021

Funny Tombstones

 Hello friends, 

I'm teaching from Ecclesiastes, the ninth chapter today.  In this passage, Solomon, the writer, tells us we all have one thing in common: DEATH!

No matter our skin color, age, if we are rich or poor, sad or happy, we all die. So says the wise king.

Oh wow! He's right, of course, but talk about a morbid subject! I decided I needed to bring a bit of light heartedness to my class, so I looked up people who died with a sense of humor. Here are a few epithets they left us to enjoy.














What will your obit say? Will you have something special engraved on your tombstone?

Hubby and I have ours in place. I have an angel on my side of the thing, and he has a church on his side. I write angel stories, and he's been a preacher all his life.  We've also included Scripturas. His is Romans 8:28 and mine is Philippians 4:13.

The date of demise isn't there, 
and I hope it isn't there for a long time to come.

As challenging as life is at times, 
it's still a good thing.


Saturday, August 7, 2021

 



I recently taught the Book of Job from the Old Testament. I didn’t want to teach it, but it was scheduled. I suggested to my class that we study another book, something simple, like Hebrews, but  unfortunately, they wanted old Job and his troubles.



Of Course, I jest. If you’ve studied Hebrews, you know it’s not simple. Good, but it’s complicated. Job is rather complicated, too.

I’m in a dark place in my own life. The last thing I needed  was to add sadness through my Bible studies, but I plunged into it. Wow! Talk about suffering. That poor guy got major whammies. Our situations may not be as dramatic as his, but they are as intense to US! Can you visualize the five-year-old who was abandoned at the Texas border? He doesn’t understand the language, why he’s there, and he wants his mother.  Is it possible to identify with the one vanishing with cancer? How about the family losing income and home? Or the sorrow of supporting the dying child?

 Job asked questions, but God didn’t answer them. Instead, He interrogated Job! When He finished with His suffering servant, God told Job’s friends, “I’m mad at you.”  Oops! Scary! When we give advice to friends, let us remember it might not meet God’s approval.

 Before the whammies, Job was the one of the richest men on earth. He lived the good life. After the whammies, the poor man tried to understand what he’d done to deserve the sorrow. Job came to realize He should love the Lord for who He is and not the blessings and gifts He gives.

 Thanks Job. I’m sorry you went through all that, but the lesson God taught you blessed me.

Wednesday, July 21, 2021

Live Till You Die




Burials come with huge price tags. Can you believe this? A funeral home raised prices and blamed it on the cost of living. If the cost of living is expensive, why is it so popular?

Staying alive is pricey, but no one wants to voluntarily climb into the casket or cremation oven.

Speaking of caskets, my brother-in-law officiated at the graveside for a funeral. He walked backwards as he led the casket processional. He read Psalms to the bereaved family. He was unaware he'd reached the final destination. When he fell into the casket's hole, he stopped reading and yelled, "Get me out of here, let me out, right now, get me out!


This same preacher, at another funeral, didn't check the direction of the wind. The family had asked him to scatter the beloved's ashes. When he emptied the urn, the grandma's ashes flew all over him. He coughed, sputtered, and brushed his clothes as if the devil himself was on him. The family was not impressed.

Another preacher, and this one isn't a relative, went with the family to bury ashes. He tells how a family member dropped the urn carrying the remains. The urn rolled down the hillside. The whole family, kit-and-caboodle, ran ran after the urn, yelling, "Get Grandma."

Children don't always understand funerals and who should be buried. A neighbor saw little Johnny digging a big hole. He asked, "What are you doing?  Huge eyes looked up and little Johnny replied, "I'm burying my goldfish."  The neighbor said, "That's a big hole for a tiny fish." Little Johnny replied, "I know, but my fish is inside your cat."

Oops!

A verse penned by the Apostle Paul reminds us that we leave this life to live in a different place.

We are confident, I say, and willing rather to be absent from the body, and to be present with the Lord. (2 Cor. 5:8)

Although our eternal home is far better than this present life, I prefer to stay here a lot longer.

I write books featuring faith and humor. You can see a total list on Amazon.

One of my books, Family Secrets is on sale at Smashwords, but you must go there to buy. 




Gay N. Lewis on Amazon



    HAPPY READING!





Thursday, July 15, 2021

Cherish the Moments

On Friday, February 26, 2021, Hubby and I experienced a few sweet seconds to cherish for a lifetime.

In a moment of clarity, Shelley, our daughter with dementia, clasped her hands in prayer mode. She said, "I want to tell y'all something. I really appreciate y'all taking care of me, and I love you."

 I cried.

Her sensible sentences are rare these days. I think she understands more than she can express. She says, "I love you" over and over when we see her. And we see that as true in her eyes.

I sing to her, "You Are My Sunshine" and she joins me. Her words aren't always there, but she can carry a tune. Once, we could harmonize together, but not these days.

She has no idea how much time and emotional effort goes into taking care of her.  And that's okay. Once a mom and dad, always a mom and dad, at least it is so with us. I suppose some people are not as fortunate as Shelley. Not all parents, (or children) continue to love and support a loved one with a disease.

In her former facility, the director told me how a resident had died. She tried calling the son for three months to tell him his mother had passed away. He never answered. He finally called one day to check on her and heard the news.

Shelley has family and friends who no longer want to see her.  They think it's scary to visit with her. It isn't scary, it is sad, but life requires us to do what we sometimes don't want to do. Go where we don't want to go. Sacrifice. 

There are residents living in her present facility who seldom have visitors. Can you imagine how these homes might be if no visitors ever darkened the doors? I fear abuse would be rampant.  Neglect is abuse. Too many times, I see a few aides sitting and doing nothing. When a visitor arrives, they hop up to do their job. However, many are caring and loving to the residents. I thank and compliment them, and I'm sincere. Just like us, they need encouragement. 

I once visited nursing homes to play hymns for the folks.  I'd go in unannounced (before the pandemic) and play.  I don't play all that well, but they don't care. They love the attention. My dad lived in one after a stroke, and I enjoyed playing for him and them. Every time I visited, the folks would see me and beg me to play for them.

I never dreamed I'd have a daughter in one.

These dear ones with dementia may not remember a visit from a loved one, but they cherish the moments a visitor spends with them. It brings one joy to brighten the lives, even if it is temporary for them.

Drop in a facility and visit a friend or loved one. They need it, and so do you.

Both of you will cherish the moments.

Family is important.


                                           Family Secrets: on sale.

 

Sunday, July 4, 2021

Update on Gay's Days: Two Ambulances, Three Hospitals.

 A month has galloped by since the incident with our daughter. 

A bruise on her face remains, but she is healing. She doesn't remember the incident--or the male resident who attacked her. Forgetting, in this case, is a blessing.

I reported the incident to the State of Texas in several recorded phone calls and via email. Inspectors spent two days at the facility and gave them ten days to make changes. I have no idea what happens after ten days, but we will see.

One of the good things is that everyone keeps an eye on our daughter.  Even the residents!  I saw Shelley wandering off one day, and a resident brought her back before I did. 

That week was a crazy one. Shelley's incident occurred on a Saturday. The following Wednesday, I took my hubby to the hospital for a day procedure. Then, on Friday, he became ill, and we hurried to the ER. The physician diagnosed him with pneumonia. I once more rode in an ambulance.



I feel like Job in the Old Testament. One surprise after another. And none of them were good or happy. Who could guess I'd be in two ambulances and three hospitals in one week.

Hubby is recovering, so that's a good thing.

I haven't intended to neglect my blog or my writing, but I've been busy helping with more important issues. I've missed all of you.

We don't know why God allows storms in our lives, but we trust Him. For individual and nations, God allows good and bad to take place. Perhaps He does so to bring about knowledge. Knowledge about Him, as well as ourselves. Perhaps He gives people and nations circumstances to generate repentance. He only allows us so much sin before He intervenes. Perhaps He plans glory to Himself. If we suffer well during ugly circumstances, others can see God. 

Who knows?  Not me, that's certain.

However, I believe this. When I can't understand the reasons for my pain and sorrow, I can trust His heart

Faith and Humor



Sunday, June 6, 2021

Dementia is a Cruel Disease

 

Our daughter was attacked on Saturday, June 5, 2021 at a memory care institution.

 My husband and I arrived for a visit with her about 1:30 on Saturday, June 5. An aide said our girl was taking a nap. We went to her room, but her bed was empty.  The aide said, "I'll go find her."  When the aide didn't come back, I went to look for both of them. I found an aide sitting in the living room, but not the aide looking for our daughter. I went back to her room and waited. No one came. I told my husband I'd go find them. I walked around the hallway to the health center. I heard loud screaming and crying, lots of voices. I knocked. They opened the door, and when our daughter turned around, I almost fainted. Her little face was badly beaten. The aide who found her told me he saw a resident hitting our daughter with his fists. She stopped him and brought her into the center.  We took pictures and called EMS. I think the staff had already notified the director and the Director of Nursing.

 By an ambulance running hot, we took her to Memorial Hermann. The police were also called.  They took statements from the aide at the facility and came to the hospital to take pictures of our injured child. The officers said the resident is in jail waiting evaluation. I hope he isn't allowed in any facilities where he can hurt another person.  After imaging and no internal injuries, the hospital released our daughter.

 This resident had tried to hurt our daughter before. I was standing in the hallway with her when he came up and tried to choke her. I said, "Put your hand down."  He said, "I'm trying to kill myself."  In a moment of clarity, Shelley said, "NO! You're trying to kill me."  I asked the aide standing with him to report it.  I hope she did. I'll soon find out. I'll ask for paperwork.

 I heard aides huddled and talking. One said this resident had slapped her last Sunday. That would be May 30. No one called me to tell me about it. I'm guessing they wouldn't want me to know about it, if indeed, it did happen.  I also overheard someone say that they'd reported him for other abuses.  If this is true, why was he still there?  Why wasn't someone watching him or my daughter?  Where was the residential aide?  If they knew this person was aggressive, why didn't they do something?  If they knew.  I guess that's the question. But then, why didn't they know?

This shouldn't happen. We leave loved ones in facilities because their care is beyond our abilities. We expect them to be safe.

The attacker is in jail waiting for the psych ward. Can you imagine what his family is going through? They hurt too. 

Dementia is a cruel disease. 

I write this personal message in hopes that it strikes a chord with someone out there. A person who can help. It's not easy to share deeply personal situations. 

More research is needed NOW for Alzheimer's and Dementia. If research could find a vaccine for Covid-19, why not use Warp Speed for Dementia? For Cancer?  Is it true Big Pharma likes the monies from the horrific diseases?


Faith and Humor

 

Sunday, May 23, 2021

Choosing a Design Professional

 


We've had an abnormal spring with late freezes and flooding in various parts of the country. Down here in Houston, it's way odd to have a freeze, but one in late February? Here in my house, we sat for four days without heat or power. Then the pipes burst, and we had to carry water from the neighbors to flush toilets. A nightmare.

This traumatic event caused many of us to renovate, replenish, and fix up a mess. When driving the neighborhood, we saw old sheetrock and soaked, moldy carpet at many curbs.

Finding someone to help in a hurry was impossible. Those broken pipes made a major mess, and even months later, people are in line waiting for helpers.  New construction and design wannabes are jumping into the fray to help, but finding a professional who knows the industry can be a daunting experience.

 I decided to give a bit of advice from my days when I worked as a designer, and I hope it helps someone. I'm listing a few things to think about.

Consider: budget, style, experience, personality, and fees.

 BUDGET. Convey to your designer/decorator/contractor your budget. Setting a financial plan prevents heartaches and quarrels later. Some interior designers/contractors present furniture, accessories, and ideas that are too costly. This can be embarrassing to you and time consuming for the designer.

 EXPERIENCE. How long has the professional been in the design field? Does he or she have access to manufacturers, retailers, and contractors? Does a portfolio exist? Can he or she give references?

 PERSONALITY. Is the professional willing to work with your temperament? Does the designer understand the needs you pose? Is he or she critical of your existing surroundings? Does he or she make you feel inadequate? You should always feel comfortable with your designer.

 STYLE.  Is the designer up-to-date with a variety of styles?  If you prefer Art Nouveau, ask if the designer knows that motif.  If the professional doesn’t like that style, or doesn’t seem to know enough about it, ask him or her to recommend another designer. Most designers can do this. If they can’t, why can’t they? People in the business should know each other. If you don’t know your style, is the designer willing to help you find one?  

 FEES. Ask the designer how much the rate is. When and how is it to be paid? Some designers/contractors “double dip,” that is to say they charge a fee on top of commissions they receive from vendors. Others choose an hourly rate, while some markup acquisitions they buy for you. Make sure you understand the costs. Is there a retainer required for the professional’s services? Approve a contract, and include fees in the budgeting process.

 Working with a professional is a rewarding experience. It saves money, time, and relieves a client of distasteful choices. The designer can accommodate your style, bring harmony and beauty to your home while staying well within your budget.

Blessings to all who need their home and lives restored!  Now here's a bit about me.


Sarah: Laney's Angel, is a book I wrote shortly after I retired as a full time designer. 

Many of the experiences in the book came from my days as I worked with a builder and clients. In the first chapter, Laney is alone in a house when an unwanted vagrant enters. She is saved by an angel. 

I experienced a similar incident. I didn't see an angel, but I know one had to be there.  Since I'm hard to manage, the angel probably had several around to help with the situation!

Sarah: Laney's Angel, available in print, eBook or audio

 

Sunday, May 9, 2021

Mothers Not Birthing People

 


Women are females and they can be mothers.  I'm fortunate to be both...female and mother. I'm not gonna call myself a birthing person. 

What's a little guy like the one pictured supposed to call a "birthing person?"  They can't pronounce words well as they learn to speak. If the mom says to him, "I'm your birthing person," the child would probably call her "Birper."  That would make the woman sound like she had too much gas in the tummy and was constantly expelling it. As in Burp, burp, burp.

Mom is a great name.  "Mama." is usually a child's first words. Hearing it for the first time thrills a mom's heart.

A lot of women can't be birthing persons. Their body and health won't allow it. What are they to be called? "Nonbirthing Persons?" This day we set aside to honor mothers is difficult for those who can't give birth.

Most women are nurturers, and even if they don't have an offspring, they naturally respond to children. What would we do without the ladies who can't be a birthing person? The aunts, teachers, neighbors who long for a child, but their body said, "sorry, no."  I've seen many of these dear females give of themselves to someone else\'s child.

 Anna Jarvis began a “Mother’s Work Day.” way back in 1908. The day became "Mother's Day." The day turned into a commercial one, and Anna came to resent the day. It became a money maker, and she regretted making it famous.

Anna Jarvis loved her mother dearly, and there's no way on earth, heaven, or the other place that she'd say to her mom, "Hi birthing person. I love you."

Faith, Humor and Politics

Sunday, April 25, 2021

Thrown Away Women



Thrown Away Women

Have you read about the women in the Bible who were thrown away?  They were discarded. Treated worse than trash.

These women had little value to the men in their lives. They were used for sex, and the examples below are horrifying.

Remember Lot? The one whose wife turned to a pillar of salt? God got tired of the city of Sodom’s evil ways, so he sent to angels to destroy it. Lot invited the angels to stay overnight in his house. During the night, the entire male population of Sodom surrounded Lot’s home and demanded the two men be brought outside. The male citizens of Sodom wanted to have sex with the new men. Lot refused, but offered his two virgin daughters instead!  He told the mob, “You can do what you like with them, but don’t do anything to these men. They are under the protection of my roof.” Genesis 19.

And the daughters weren’t under his protection? Lot was willing to throw away his daughters! Lot was a faulty thinker and isn’t eligible to win any Father of the Year award.

How about the story of the Levite and his concubine?

This Levite was lonely up there in the Ephraim hill country and acquired a concubine. He must not have been a very good companion because the concubine was unfaithful. She finally ran away and went home to her father in Bethlehem. After four lonely months, the Levite went after her. The Concubine’s father persuaded the desperate-for-sex Levite to spend the night. After spending five days and nights there, the Levite wanted to take his concubine and head for the hills. The girl’s father pleaded for him to stay, but the man took his concubine and left. (I’m guessing the dad knew something of the Levites character. He may have been protecting his daughter.) When night came, the Levite stopped in the town of Gibeath and was in need of shelter. A local man invited him and the concubine to stay in his house. Sometime in the night, men of the city knocked on the door and demanded the host bring out the man. They wanted to have sex with him but instead, the host offered his virgin daughter. (Another nomination for Dad of the Year. NOT.) The wicked male horde preferred the Levite, so in-order-to protect himself, the Levite threw his concubine out the door.

The wicked men abused her all night and left her for dead on the doorstep. The Levite put her on his donkey, returned home, and then cut up her body into twelve pieces. He sent the pieces to each of the twelve tribes asking them to partake in revenge. A war ensues. Judges 19. The early Israelites “did what was right in their own eyes.” Judges 21:25.

These two ghoulish incidents, Lot, and the Levite, demonstrate how women were often thought of as nothing in the early days of civilization. Except for the concubine’s dad, the other fathers had little regard for their daughters. Can you imagine offering your virgin daughter to appease a horde of men?

Jesus elevated women when He came to live on Earth, but there are many today who continue to abuse women. Sometimes the abuser is a dad, a husband, a boss, or a human trafficker.

Women are thrown away in today’s world. Abuse of women is now considered a crime instead of sin. But indeed, they are both: Crime and sin. When humanity ignores civil and moral laws, Godless actions happen.

My heart hurts for the abused woman. I’m sad for the women who are abducted into sex slavery by a human trafficker.  Laws exist for a reason, but they get ignored. Officers of the law also exist for a reason, but anarchy occurs in many American places. Folks, people need to give accountability to God. We need to honor our national laws. We can’t and shouldn’t allow ungodly incidents to occur, and we shouldn't let women be abused or thrown away.


 Mattie's Choice in Print or eBook


PBG Insider: Gay N. Lewis Introduces her "Sarah" series

Sarah at Christmas