The virus

Here's a quick update:

My oldest daughter most likely has Covid-19. She works at a geriatric Rehab Center.
My husband who is an essential worker is being tested for it today.
No symptoms but he did have an exposure at work.
I feel fine.....so far.  Been quarantined in my home for 5 weeks.
Grand kids are living with their parents through this. I miss them something fierce.
I am praying a lot. I am not panic stricken. But I am concerned.
I'll update you all when I can.
Love you all,
Lolly


4/24 Update-
My daughter tested positive for Influenza, not Covid-19.
She even got her flu shot back in October!
My husband tested  negative for Covid-19 too.
Is it inappropriate to holler out WOO HOO?!
I think not.

Sheltering in place

It's the waiting that is the hardest I think.
It gives my mind too much time to dwell on things.
Like right now I am waiting for this black plague to roll in to our town.
Waiting for it to snuff out the light and the life that surrounds me.
Should I believe what they are saying on TV?
Do I believe the reports from the CDC? Or HHS?
Is it black? Is it white?
Are we doomed? With no chance of being saved?
Our grocery store shelves have been emptied. Refilled then emptied again.
But I will admit...I am too afraid to go to the store anymore anyway.
I walk the dog around the block twice a day.
Other than that I stay inside my house.
I am too anxious to read. Too filled with worry to deep clean my house.
I find myself wanting to nap, a lot.
I ask myself if this is what I want to be doing with my time.
If this is the last two weeks I have on this Earth, do I want to spend them napping? And my answer is "I've got nothing better to do".
I lie on the floor in Yoga Corpse pose and stretch my cramped muscles.
I listen to ocean waves through Youtube on my laptop.
I drink coffee all morning and tea all afternoon. My appetite is waning.
Laundry gets done and dinner gets cooked and then after dinner the dishes get done too.
I sleep ok for the most part. Some nights are better than others.
I miss my grandkids something fierce. It's like a physical ache.
They are done with school for the year and have been at home with their parents.
I miss my boy who is way up there in snowy Minnesota.
He doesn't feel well and I am afraid for him not having his mama.
He's coughing and achy and a bit nervous himself.
Today my 11 year old grandson woke up with a fever.

I want to wake up from this nightmare. I want life to be normal again. I want to not be afraid.
I want to cry and laugh and listen to the birds in the trees. I want to go to the library and browse.
I want people to stop with the toilet paper. I want to put more creamer in my coffee than I should.
I wanted to buy a pot of Daffodils the last time I was at the store but I didn't.
Now I wish I had.

Him and I, we have each other. We have our little dog. We have supplies. We are not sick.
We have Facetime so we can see and talk to the grandkids and our far away grown up boy.
Jesus is real quiet. I like to imagine that He is helping out other parts of the world at the moment.
I keep praying though. I keep praying for all of us. Stay well and safe my friends.
Thanks for Reading,
Love, Lolly

Holy ashes

Ashes to ashes

Dust to dust

God's love resides in all of us

Love. Each. Other.

We anointed each other with homemade ashes last night.
Took me about an hour that morning to get one palm frond cooked down to ash.
I had to Google it to find out how to make it burn because they don't.
Burn that is.
I must have lit that thing about 20 times and it barely did a thing,
only slightly curling the edge with a slim ribbon of ash the width of a pen stroke.
When he came home for lunch I asked him how to make this palm frond smolder.
That's what Google said, the palm needed to smolder to make the finest ash.
He broke it into pieces placed it in a glass bowl and lit it, blew on it a few times
and sure enough it started to smolder.
Leave it to a fireman to know how to burn something to ash, eh?
I sifted the remains through a fine sieve and voila... ashes like silk.

I swiped his forehead with a perfect little cross and was proud of how it looked.
He on the other hand gave me a cross as wide and as long as his thumb.
I brought a little pot of ashes over to my sister's house so she could anoint her family too.

We used to go to church for every religious holiday.
We used to go to church every Sunday.
We used to go but haven't been in a while.
At first we just took the Summer off.
That led into Fall and we did go a few times.
Christmas Eve services were bittersweet as that was the last time we would have worship at our 150 year old historic church.
Winter came with blowing winds and biting temperatures and we just never went back.

There is restlessness in me. I don't know what it is.
But church isn't the answer and I feel that in my bones.
Please don't misunderstand...I love Jesus. I believe in Jesus.
I've seen and felt Jesus.
But He doesn't seem to show up at our church. I don't "feel" Him there, ever.
There isn't anything wrong with our church, per se, it's just that He's not there.

*I see holiness coming from the color of the winter sky in the morning.
*The smell of smoldering palm fronds made my kitchen smell like church.
*I feel the safety of His presence snuggled in bed with my fireman and our little dog on a cold winters night.
*I hear birdsong out my window or grandchildren uproariously laughing and it gladdens my heart.
*We have full cupboards and running water and we've never known true hunger and I'm so very grateful.

I fully expect to go to heaven someday and I'm not at all worried or concerned that Jesus will tell me that I can't come in because I didn't go to church.
I know there are people who would huff and puff at our "blasphemous" act of anointing each others foreheads with gasp!  homemade ashes.
As if only a holy and ordained man of the cloth should be able to perform such holy and ordained rituals. Like they are the only ones who know what it means to minister to each other.
It meant something to him and I and, for me, that  is what truly matters.

I believe that's what makes it holy and that is what matters to Jesus.

Thanks for reading friends,
Love, Lolly

January 31

The steady falling snow muffles the noises of the outside world.
There is something about a world of hushed quiet white that speaks to my heart.
This morning it is cozy and overly warm in this house...
I wear a T-shirt, jeans and am barefoot even though it is the end of January.
My husband and I continue with our thermostat war.
He tells me that our heating bill is 30% higher then our neighbors.
Don't look at me, I tell him
Many a morning it is that I have found that thermostat cranked up to 74.
Seventy four!!!
I've asked him was he trying to cook me to death?
As soon as he leaves I crank that sucker back down to 66.
It takes me most of the day to quit perspiring.
Seems like the moment I cool off I can hear his truck rumbling back into the driveway.
dang

I've been watching this impeachment trial on TV.
It alternates between mind numbingly boring to nerve wracking.
I don't have high hopes for the outcome anymore.
The senate appears to be overrun with old poopy white people (mostly men)
Who, IMOP,  have lost touch with the regular people of this country.

I've a full day ahead of house cleaning, laundry and babysitting.
The grandkids are staying over for dinner and being picked up at 9:00 pm
We babysit the other two grandkids tomorrow night.
The weather is supposed to be sunny and 50 degrees on Sunday...woot!
We haven't seen the sun in over a week.
This old gal could use some extra Vitamin D!!

Thanks for reading,
Love, Lolly

Musings on a New Year

I am here
I am well
I am happy

I've loosened my grasp on things I couldn't control anyway
I've removed human toxicity from around my personal space
I've not yet given up on Jesus but I did stop clawing at Him

I'm plump and sassy and a bit smart ass-y
I'm forever working on being graceful and grateful
I'm typing on a brand new laptop and I feel very old

I want to start blogging again but Instagram is way funner
I want to go camping with our grandkids in our new RV
I want Peace on Earth and rain for Australia

I pray for a deescalation of hate and anger in the world
I pray for a change this November
I pray for us all.

I miss you guys.

Thanks for reading,
Love, Lolly

September

Sweaty McSweaterson here...
Just dropping you a line to let you know that it is hot and humid here in Illinois.
Humidity will be the death of me, I just know it.
Can I person actually die from the humidity??
I can hardly stand it.
I do nothing but perspire all day.
When I open the front door it greets me like a heavy metal slab.
It makes me cranky and short tempered.
Uh.....ahem....
So.
That is not at all what I had planned to write about.
Strange isn't it, what happens when you sit down to write.
I think to myself that I will write about DJT and the state of our world,
And then I end up writing about being angry and sweaty.
Well I suppose there could be a weird correlation there somewhere-
angry and sweaty... haha.

It's late September and the leaves are starting to fall and become crunchy underfoot.
The heat and humidity are relentless. It is cooler at night but I myself feel no relief whatsoever.
Our A/C is still cranked up high.
The grandkids shiver and wrap tiny blankets around their shoulders as they eat breakfast.

With the kids back in school it is much quieter of course.
The silence hums in my home.
Jesus still remains absent and silent over here.
No glimpse of a winged bird or gently falling leaf can thrill me.
Cloud patterns are just that...clouds or patterns. You choose.

I'm not frightened by His silence, just curious. Why did He leave?
I wonder where He has gone and who He is saving now.
And I wonder if they know He is by their side, if they can feel Him like I did.
I miss that ether of His so damn much. I miss hearing His voice.
I miss the small little miracles that He kept trying to show me every day.

I'm ok though, really. I can wait til He comes back again. Because He always does.

Thanks for reading,
Love, Lolly

When the dust settles

It'd been years since I opened it. My study Bible.
This particular version was called the Mother's Bible and while it reads like any normal  KJV  Bible, there are little anecdotes tucked in here and there to give us poor mother's a lift, so to speak.
I'd put it into my Bible study tote bag more than two years ago and hadn't touched it since.
When I pulled it out of the tote, I was genuinely surprised to see such a thick coating of dust. I couldn't even blow it off...I tried.
How long had it been since I'd used it? I wondered. I honestly couldn't recall.
Now, mind you, I have other versions of the Bible (with The Message being my favorite), but I quickly realized that I hadn't opened any of them either.
Not in a really long time.

It was my most highlighted Bible, the one I used to read religiously (no pun intended) everyday.
It's the Bible that I used to Keep Me In The Word, you know, like-
"All I need is Coffee and Jesus".
It was the Bible I used when I  needed a scripture that resonated with me, then I would go outside  with my camera and find something in nature that resonated the same way.
I thought that was going to be my calling, the thing that was going to save me and give me purpose.
Making framed photo art with a lovely piece of scripture imprinted across the bottom.
I made a few pieces then quit.
It was harder than it looked and I didn't have the right printer to make it look professional.

God used to show Himself to me all the time through nature.
He was everywhere and I saw Him and/or His essence everywhere I looked.
I couldn't not see Him or hear Him or sense Him. Everything about me was attuned to Him.

The breeze became His caress against my face. The rain His tears. Singing birds were His voice.
The colors in the sunrise He put there just for me. The scent of flowers and Pine trees and strawberries became His cologne.
I watched Bees washing their antenna in my birdbath and knew He had told them to show me this. Look!
Cloud patterns became the way He communicated to me.
All I had to do was look up.
I saw Him in my newborn grandchildrens eyes. I smelled him in the fur at my dogs neck.
I could taste Him in a ripe juicy Pear or a perfectly grilled steak.
I gave Him thanks and praise for soap bubbles in my sink and the electricity flowing through the wires of my house. I've written down in journals countless things that I am grateful for.
I went to church every Sunday and listened raptly as our pastor told story after story about the goodness of Jesus H. Christ and the life I deserved as His follower.
Worship music became the only thing I listened to and all of the lyrics seemed directed towards me.
I stood in church with my hands raised to the heavens, waiting for Gods love to rain down on me.
Until I realized that the humming was gone and it was silent. Until He stopped showing up.
I can't say when or where but I have noticed that His particular brand of ether isn't in the air that surrounds me anymore. I no longer sense Him near by.
I still smell flowers and pine trees and strawberries, I still see bees happily buzzing around my gardens with their legs full of pollen, and ripe pears and grilled steak are still quite tasty.
But the hum of Him in my veins is gone and  miss it. I miss Him.

In Alanon they call this kind of phenomenon Falling Off The Pink Cloud.

Last week I dusted off that Bible after my sister and I decided to restart our
Thursday morning Bible Study. Her and I are going to try Coffee and Jesus again.
I'm hoping that getting back into "The Word" will help me find that ether that I miss so much.
I'm not putting any pressure on myself though, or Him either for that matter.
If there's one thing I know about Jesus is that He shows up when He shows up.
And it's always at the exact right time.
Here's hoping that all of you are doing well.

Thanks for reading,
Love, Lolly


P.S. I hate that mutherfuker DJT and I think Jesus does too. Sorry not sorry.