Standing on the Promises...

Times change. Things change. People change.

Change is needed for growth; physical, mental and spiritual growth. I personally believe that change is good when it’s meant to be good.

I also believe that some things will never change and that is also good.

The world we live in today has changed significantly, from just a few years ago.

I have had to make many, many changes in my lifetime. There are some things about myself that I will never change. Ever. Physically , mentally and spiritually, will always be the same as far as my own, personal being is concerned.

I will always be proud of being a Christian.

I will never be ashamed of being white.

I believe there are only two genders.

I believe marriage is meant for a man and a woman.

I believe in and support the right to bear arms as they do save lives.

I believe America is great.

I do not believe freedom is free without the sacrifices of others.

I do believe black lives matter.

I believe blue lives matter.

I believe all lives matter.

I am only responsible for my actions, not the actions of my ancestors or anyone else.

I believe in second chances but I also believe in the death penalty.

I believe that people can change.

I also know that God is real.

I also fully believe that it is okay to disagree with someone without being angry or causing them harm.

I have no hate in my heart. If your opinions or beliefs are different from mine I will not judge you or condemn you. We are the same in blood and flesh. Our hearts and minds may be different but I respect you as a human being.

Most importantly, I believe the Bible is the living word of God and I will keep standing on his promises.

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The Proposal

Thursday, February 16, 2023, will be a night forever stuck in my head. It had been cold that day; the aches and pains of fibromyalgia and arthritis had been tormenting me all day. I couldn’t wait to get home and curl up in front of a fire and do nothing for the rest of the evening. Kevin, my boyfriend, had come by the shop to get his haircut that afternoon. He told me he bought me a new pistol because he didn’t like the one I had. It was an old Charter Arms .38. The trigger was a little stubborn, for sure and the site was certainly off. I consider myself to be a little “sideways“ most of the time anyways, so if the pistol was a little off, no big deal but good thing I never had to use it! I was just super impressed that he was concerned enough about me and my safety to even purchase something that significant for me. After all, we had only been dating just over 10 months. I arrived to his house about 6:30 PM. He greeted me and led me to the kitchen where my surprise awaited me. He was ...

Running on Empty (and my husband’s last nerve)

One factual thing about me … I never look at the gas gauge. The only time I think of putting gas in my vehicle is when the gas light and alert goes off. That’s exactly what it’s there for … Just like the alarm clock or timer; a reminder that it’s time to do whatever it is that it needs to be done. When we go somewhere together, my husband is always asking if there’s gas in my car. (He should rightfully ask, knowing that there’s probably not). He’s warned me numerous times that one day it’s gonna happen; one day I’m gonna ride those fumes home and I’m not gonna have enough time to stop and get gas on the way to my next destination. One day. So there I was, on a Saturday afternoon, cruising along, singing at top of lungs, arm out the window, bobbing my head back and forth to some questionable 80s pop, completely oblivious to the fact that my car was running on fumes and good intentions. My destination? The nail parlor, about 12 miles away. Suddenly, I felt a sputt...

Row 7

You know that sinking feeling? The one where you emerge from a store, laden with bags (or, in my case, five sugar-fueled grandchildren), and you stare out at a sea of identical metal boxes, none of them yours? Yeah, that was my personal hell for years. My superpower, (one of them, at least), was forgetting where I parked the nanosecond I step away from my car. The true turning point, was quite a few years ago when my grandchildren forever cemented my reputation as "Nana Who Loses the Car," happened at Walmart. Imagine: five small humans, each with their own unique brand of post-shopping fatigue and a desperate need to pee, nap or eat, wandering aimlessly with me through acres of asphalt. We looked like a lost expedition, complete with complaints echoing off the distant fluorescent lights. "Nana, is it that one? No, that's not our white one!" "Are we ever going to find it?" The shame, people, the sheer, unadulterated shame. We eventually located my hu...

Boldly Unbroken

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