Nothing on My Tongue but Hallelujah

  Very likely, you saw my jubilant Facebook post, yesterday, about my friend. You know, the one who has been readying to battle the devil cancer, but was spared? If you were to go back and read the original blog post, you'd note that it was written over two weeks ago, the day before we thought she was having her tumor removed. Well, it didn't happen that day. All the doctors working on her case were in agreement that it was cancer, going into this thing. But they also agreed that they needed to handle it with care. There were more tests done, needle biopsies and all manor of other non-invasive testing because they were concerned with (read: scared of) that tumor. They wanted to know...

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Something Smells

  The first time I smelled it, I was sitting at my desk, participating in a webinar. The scent of the perfume was heavy and cloying, sitting on the air like a wet blanket, and, had it been a type of music it would have been a part of the head-banging genre. I wanted to bang my head, too. Against the wall. I didn't recognize it. You know how you come to know the scents of the women in a setting you frequent. I figured that someone had a client in the office, and just when I was praying they'd shut themselves up in one of the conference rooms, the stench became stronger. And there was a voice. This hallway is very dark. And drab. Where in the world is your office? Is it all the way at...

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On Believing the Truth

  My Monday morning found me sitting, bright and early, in an ENT's office. I've been having some sinus issues that my doctor felt warranted a closer look, so there I sat. For an hour. When they called my name, I gathered my things and headed for the door, but then realized my name was coming from the office window, instead. Our conversation went something like this: Mrs. Garman? We need to collect your copay before we take you back. I'm sorry, but I don't have a copay on my insurance. Yes ma'am, you do. We've verified your insurance and you have a copay. I don't mean to be difficult, but my plan has an HRA and an FSA, which don't require a copay at time of service. No ma'am, I'm...

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It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad, World

It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad, World

  It seems that yesterday's post - a scripture for hard times - struck a cord. And, really, why wouldn't it? It's tough out there. Everyone is facing something; job loss, home loss, illness, aging parents, struggling children, dying marriage, and bills that seem to multiply when you're not looking, to name but a very few. The scripture I posted was the Beatitudes, recognizable for the way it starts in most translations: "Blessed are the..." However, I posted it from plain language of The Message translation, which goes, in part, like this: You’re blessed when you’re at the end of your rope. With less of you there is more of God and his rule. I think it strikes a cord in us because...

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His Words (for Hard Times)

  Every Sunday around here is about His Words, instead of mine. If you are in the midst of some hard things, let Jesus give you some fresh perspective. The Beautitudes (in a way you've likely never read them!) When Jesus saw his ministry drawing huge crowds, he climbed a hillside. Those who were apprenticed to him, the committed, climbed with him. Arriving at a quiet place, he sat down and taught his climbing companions. This is what he said: “You’re blessed when you’re at the end of your rope. With less of you there is more of God and his rule. “You’re blessed when you feel you’ve lost what is most dear to you. Only then can you be embraced by the One most dear to you. “You’re...

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