Tuesday night it will be over. All the texts and emails and ads will be gone. Will we have another 2020 attempt at a coup or will we have a smooth transition of power?
I am so very very tired of our country being bated against one another. Donald Trump started all this hate, and I hope he will end it, whether he wins or loses. The mantra “not my president” will hopefully die and instead as a country we will rally together to bring as much peace as possible in an unstable world.
My heart still hurts from watching the awful rioting and chaos at our Capitol, from seeing the mob desecrate a building we have held in reverent respect for hundreds of years. Never has such a thing by our own people happened before.
No, it wan’t a group of unarmed individuals. They were armed with the bear spray that killed a police officer. They were armed with clubs and fists and boot-clad feet. I’m not sure what the final damage amount was that we tax payers are responsible for paying. They defecated in offices, stole property, broke windows, screamed and yelled ‘Hang Pence.” Everyone there was afraid for their lives, called home to tell their loved ones goodbye.
Those images will forever be imbedded in my brain.
Author: apronsandappetites.com
And Life Went On
This picture is of my son, Nathan Kyle, as we celebrated my retirement from court reporting in the circuit courts and New Year’s Eve. It was the night before my daughter was killed in a truck wreck on January 1, 2022. The night before my granddaughter was severely injured in that wreck and spent several weeks in Riley Hospital in Indianapolis, IN. It was a special night of love and celebration.
Nate had only gotten out of prison, a place he spent many years due to his drug addiction, the week before. We were all thrilled for him to be there, especially his sister.
He was home for Christmas; he was home for our special celebration; he was home.
The year rolled around and he struggled with his addiction. Keely’s death, his only sister as well as a friend, along with the death of his friend and cousin, Mike, in March, hit him hard and his struggle with drugs began to beat him. He was losing the battle. Again. He and I fought that summer after Keely and Mike died and even quit talking for a bit. His sweet girlfriend, Ashley, stepped in and did some magic that got him going on a little better path. He was happier and had a goal: to marry Ashley; to take care of her and her son; to make her daughters and parents like him. After all, he did have a reputation, so his work was cut out for him in that area. And he worked hard to achieve that goal.
He also continued to use marijuana; then sell it. But he was still happier than he had ever been, and I held out hope that he would make it this time; that he was away from the hard drugs.
On February 15, 2023, someone shot Natey in the back of the leg and left him to bleed to death in the ditch just across the street from where he was living. The bullet hit his femoral artery. Almost before Natey even realized he had been shot, he was dead. The police and the emergency personnel were there within three minutes. Or less.
My heart is crushed, still, even though it has now been over a year. But as the poem reads, “and life went on. It was not the same, but it went on,” (sorry, I don’t know the author) and I am going on. Different, not the same, but step by step going on.
“Nathan Kyle Dobbs, born August 3, 1977, left this earthly body on Wednesday, February 15, 2023, to be united in Heaven with those who went before him. The reunion in the presence of Jesus the Christ has to be phenomenal! Left to mourn and miss him is Ashley, the great love of his life, the reason he lived, his gift from God. He will be greatly missed by his aunts and uncles and cousins and friends. Nate had a huge heart with a smile and hello or a helping hand for everyone. He was a hard worker wherever he worked. He was full of fun and laughter and silly exploits. His great delight was in making others smile, bringing some joy and positivity and sunshine to their day, despite his struggles. His desire was to become a man who could find his way to walk daily with the Jesus who gave him hope; to become a man that could make his family happy and complete; to become better than he had ever been in his struggles and fight against addiction; to let all his awesome love and goodness shine as brightly as God had always planned for him. He was sunshine; meant to light up the world.”
And, oh, how we miss him.
Saying Goodbye Again
Michael Joseph Rutherford (Mike, Mikey, Mikey Joe) departed this earth on the first day of spring, the time for new beginnings, March 20, 2022, to start his own new beginning with Jesus the Christ. He joins his grandparents and his cousin, Keely, to begin his new life of immense joy and love, full of peace and the glory of God. He was born April 14, 1985. He leaves behind his dad and mom, Benny and Anne Rutherford; his sister and brother-in-law, Benna and Jason Williams; his niece and nephew, Charlotte and Henry Williams. He leaves behind aunts and uncles and cousins and friends. He leaves behind a huge hole in the hearts of all these people as well as a huge void in the earth’s beauty.
Mike loved this earth; he loved to explore its depths in caves; he loved to walk its grassy fields as well as the forests among the solitude of trees; he loved to kayak its waters with or without the accompaniment of companions. He loved to listen to its waterfalls and leave gifts of rock sculptures for hikers to find and be awed. He loved to share these adventures with anyone who was interested in going with him.
He loved giving big, warm, all-encompassing hugs; he loved giving out joy through his beautiful smile that had I love you all over it and spilled onto whoever was the lucky recipient. He loved sharing books, plants, ideas, work, game-playing, porch swing-sitting, dancing. He loved yoga and was an awesome yoga instructor. And he loved his family the most, from the smallest cousin to the oldest aunt and uncle. He never wanted to miss a family gathering, and he never stopped talking about his niece and nephew. He was a great uncle.
He was a most unique individual who loved to give unique and personal gifts. He was intelligent and witty.
And he will be missed beyond measure.
January 1, 2022
The day my daughter died. The day I became mom instead of grandma to my two grandgirls even though I am still Gigi. The day my heart ripped in half. The day my tears began and haven’t ended. The day my grandaughter began the fight for her own life and won. The day I will never forget.
The day of new beginnings.
Goodbye, my beautiful girl. Thank you for these wonderful and lovely and awesome girls you gave me. But when will I ever stop crying? How do I move on?
When will I ever quit saying I’ll call and ask…
Encountering the Christ in Israel Part 2
People floating in the Dead Sea
Looking out our hotel toward the Dead Sea
After getting through the border exchange which included a driver and host exchange, we moved on toward the Dead Sea. A most interesting place. Google it for all the details. Nothing lives in it but bacteria, and the fish that do land in there die quickly. It’s got enough salt in it to kill, well, just about everything, but that salt makes a person so buoyant that once you walk out in it and just fall backwards, you’re floating. Kick out your feet; splay out your arms; float. Strange but so fun.
Me in my Dead Sea floating position
It is the lowest point on earth, thus the song the four of us had to sing: “We’ve got friends in low places, where we float on the sea and put mud on our faces.” (Thank you, Garth, for the inspiration.) (I would add the video but can’t figure out how to turn it. It’s sideways. Anybody got a little advice about that for me.)
The big thing is to slather the mud from the Dead Sea all over you for the beneficial, uh, bacteria? minerals? salt? We slathered; we dried; then we rinsed. My skin did feel very soft, and we were impressed with the end product, whether it was physiological or psychological. Didn’t matter. We were at the Dead Sea! Where my big moment with Jesus was still as dead as the sea.
But we were just inside Israel. The true footsteps of Christ that I would soon be stepping right on top of was awaiting me. And my anticipation was mounting.
Encountering the Christ in Israel (Part I)
Israel. A country I’ve longed to go to. A place where many Believers of The Way, The Christ, The Good News, want to go. It’s a longing from somewhere deep in the soul to walk where my Savior walked, to see his country, his home. So when I found out my nephew was going to be part of the worship team on a tour to Israel, I called his mom and said “We’re going.”
Somehow, some way, we were going. That was her son! She had to be on this trip. And so did I.
We got all the finances squared away, got my passport, and began getting emails about the trip: what clothes to pack and how to pack them, how much money to bring, safety measures to do before and during the trip; little tidbits of advice as well as important cultural advice. It was a tour through Living Passages, a company I would highly recommend. There were four friends going, and we were constantly sending messages back forth via Marco Polo, an app that lets a person video a short message and send it out to an individual or group. Some were hilarious (Joe’s video, husband of Cindy) and some were a little long-winded that I had to double time to get through (sorry, girls) and some were super helpful or downright laugh-you-silly videos.
The day finally came, and we were off. We were to catch a plane out of St. Louis and go to Atlanta and catch a plane from there to Paris and from Paris to Amman because we were including a small Jordan trip in there as well. The big storm that hit Atlanta that evening also hit our plans and knocked us out of flying out to Paris that evening. After a stressful night and next day, the group got to Paris only to find there were only seven seats on the flight to Amman for eight of the unassigned seat people in the group.
Wes, the pastor, the wild young man that God changed into a quiet, caring, compassionate, wise leader stayed behind in Paris. The airline was kind and put him in a hotel where he slept for ten hours thus arriving another day late.
Beginning the walk to Petra, the Siq
The Treasury at Petra. Look familiar? https://youtu.be/FkjRaq31dxI
The crack is the corridor, Siq, leading out of Petra.
The long walk to the Siq that leads to Petra Treasury
amphitheater and tombs
So many tombs! These were the royal tombs.
But the whole group was finally in Jordan expecting great things. At least I was expecting great things, a great movement within me the minute I touched my feet to the land that Moses and Aaron and Jacob and Abraham had walked.
And it was exciting! It did move me. Gently. Appreciatively. Just not the way I was expecting. I wanted the Holy Spirit to take me out, knock me on my knees, do something that said “You are walking on holy ground.”
It wasn’t happening. Ah, but Israel was next. There is where I had best be ready for whatever was about to happen.
Looking Back
For several years I have had the opportunity to transport my two grand-girls to school while school was in attendance. They would bebop out of the house either in shorts and cute little t-shirts or all bundled up in winter coats and gloves. After getting all buckled in, off we would go.
Kate was the first.
What good times we had! She still believed in the purity and innocence of the world, so we had awesome rides to school where the trees talked to her as we passed, or the tires would squeal when we made curves, or clouds were all sorts of objects. There were deer and other animals to be seen and enjoyed. Big plans were made on these short little trips.
Ava came next.
She grew up faster than Kate, always running in her sister’s footsteps to be like her sister. But we still had awesome rides to school. She believed as long as Kate kept quiet, but if her sister stated this was true or this was make-believe, then it was chiseled in stone.
And now they are both in double digits. My little fairies that used to hide in my closet (until they were found by a couple of snoopers) are leaving me notes instead of them leaving my sweet girls notes to ooh and aah over. The toys that once were dragged out all over the floor haven’t been touched in a while.
They ride the bus home and Kate rides it to school as well.
But I still get to take Ava. And we still have a great time talking about all kinds of things in that ten-minute ride. The laughter is still full and fills our guts to bursting until our sides hurt. She is ten. I might have one, maybe two years left before she, too, starts riding the bus to school, wanting to socialize with friends.
And that’s okay. I’m making memory boxes for them. So they can remember what the trees said and what objects the clouds really were and how the car could squeal when it made a curve and how fairies were real. Back when they were smaller and younger and believed in the unbelievable.
Does God Answer Prayer?
Isaiah 65:24 Before they call I will answer; while they are still speaking I will hear.
“Why?”
As Philip Yancey says, the question that never goes away.
Does God answer prayer? The answer is yes. The answer is no.
I have searched long and hard for the past 20 years to finally find out that, yes, God answers prayer. And I have found out that, no, God doesn’t answer prayer.
When I ask for my friend to find her necklace that is meaningful to her, and in a minute or few she finds it in the tall grass, God has shown my little granddaughter that He cares about even the smallest things that cause us anxiety. Thus, when she can’t find something, she comes in my office and asks me to pray that she finds a picture she was looking for, like I did when I prayed for Teri’s necklace. God led us to the picture right away.
When I ask for healing for my children who have serious mental health issues, He is silent, letting us forge ahead through the thick jungle of confusion, sadness, depression, hopelessness, pain, searching, hospitalizations, imprisonment, and heartache. And heartache. And heartache.
How are we standing? Bloody and battered from the wildness of this uncharted territory we have never walked before. Is it His strength? Is that the answer? Not this but this? “Lean into me, and I will bring you to the other side albeit not the person you started out being but now someone that resembles that person. You carry them as I carry you.”
Did that answer my prayer for healing? No. Are they healed when we all come out on the other side bruised, panting from the struggle? No.
When I pray, I know that God hears. 1 John 5:14 ~ This is the confidence we have in approaching God: that if we ask anything according to his will, he hears us.
When I pray, I know that something in the heavens shifts and moves, and shifts and moves me, in some way, now or much much much later. I have not suffered and been in great distress alone. Others have suffered far worse than I have. Even the Lord Jesus prayed fervently for a change in circumstances. Prayed so fervently, in fact, that his sweat was blood. Jesus Christ experienced hematohidrosis while praying in the garden of Gethsemane before his crucification as mentioned in the Defenders Bible by Physician Luke as “and being in anguish he prayed more earnestly and his sweat was like drops of blood falling to the ground. ”https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC2810702/
Matthew 26:38 Then he said to them, “My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death. Stay here and keep watch with me.”
Matthew 26:42 “He (Jesus) went away a second time and prayed, ‘My Father, if it is not possible for this cup to be taken away unless I drink it, may your will be done.’”
Matthew 26:44 So he left them and went away once more and prayed the third time, saying the same thing.
“Why?” Is there ever an answer? Yes, sometimes. All we have to do on occasion is see how we have caused our problems through bad habits, bad choices. Or we can see how our genes or work environment has caused our problems. But when the Why answer is elusive and a great mystery, and the healing or the saving wasn’t quick enough to heal or save or the evil that was perpetrated against us or those we loved destroyed, then we stand, as Jesus did, overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death.
And we need someone to stand with us in the Why. We need someone to stay and keep watch, to pray with us and stand firm by our side, not judging and rationalizing, not looking for the human weakness but calling for the supernatural strength that sustains and passes understanding.
Perhaps the answer is Love. Do we love enough to stand with each other in the Why moments?
thinkless
A million thoughts makes one unable to think, really think.
So how does one corral those thoughts into a thinkable manner?
Wondering minds with loose files floating everywhere would like to know.
My Little Duckies
Several years ago, maybe five, I purchased this duck towel. My little duckies would always want their photo in it, so after their bath they would fight over the duck towel (why did I not buy two for crying out loud!) and then finally settle into a duckie moment.
my just scrubbed grandduck
Kate always always tried to make Ava pose just right
Kate and Ava in the duck towel
They were here together again not too long ago (doesn’t happen so much anymore), so I cajoled and begged until they let me take the last duck pic I will probably ever get.
My heart is full. That towel will stay here forever.
apronsandappetites 