Jack

You see this precious face? Would it boggle your mind to know his mommy and daddy didn't want him? I couldn't believe it either...but it's true! Friends of ours adopted this little boy and each time I see him with his arms wrapped around their necks, my heart bursts with joy.

Just this morning I overheard him telling his parents that their song was playing. He was referring to, "I belong to Jesus." I nearly cried as I watched his little arms pull his adoptive parents together with his three-year-old little arms. With their heads joined together they sang as emotions as thick as a softball formed in my throat.

Seeing them together made me think of how cherished we are to God. Nothing can separate us from the love of God. Remember that the next time you feel alone, unloved, despised, rejected, depressed or discouraged. He has a plan for you, one greater than you can ever imagine.

Yes, It's Thanksgiving again. So what? It's just another day, right? Every Thanksgiving people spend too much, eat too much, drink too much and say way too much. You've been there; family gatherings where even if alcohol isn't involved, people will say things that they will wish later they hadn't. Maybe like me, they will refuse to say what should be said and regret that also. It has only taken me 41 years to decide that I want no further part of it. My time is precious, valuable and unrecoverable. I can not sacrifice a second more of my only controllable resource, dancing around the truth. So, here it is...try this on for size...I love my life!

I love my family. I hold no ill will toward my parents, brothers, extended family or upbringing. Getting spankings, sometimes with a belt or a paddle, didn't mar, scar or kill me. Attending a small Christian school and even a couple of Bible colleges, didn't ruin me on my Baptist upbringing or drive me to drinking...well, that may be stretching it a bit. Regardless, I love Jesus and His free gift of salvation and I'm not ashamed to tell you about it or Him...anytime, any day.

I'm thankful for the same things you are; a place to lay down at night, waking up each morning and indoor plumbing. I'm thankful I was born in America, that I have a nice home, a great job and plenty of food to eat. I'm thankful for clean water to drink, a loving husband and gorgeous children to wrap my arms around and love. I'm thankful for every single tear that I cry and every pain that causes a hitch in my get-along because it reminds me that I am still alive and still feeling anything at all.

It is impossible to list everything here that I'm thankful for, but I refuse to spend one more Thanksgiving stuffing my face and biting my tongue. Tomorrow and forever I choose to live, laugh, love and be grateful for who I am, Who's I am and all that I have. I hope you will choose to do the same. Happy Thanksgiving!

A Place

The crumbling adobe wall whispered hundreds of years of living. Impressed, I gently ran my finger tips across a pink earthen structure and silently asked for understanding. I wished it were possible to know who all had touched the same, who had ducked beneath the low overhang to enter or exit the secret compound of solitude. How could a "place" reek so of peace and harmony? "The City Different" speaks to me in ways that no other place on the planet does. My birth state is a desolate, lonely environment that few appreciate and fewer adore. When I wander the streets, I feel at home; smelling pinyon wood burning in an ancient kiva, I beg to remain. This is where I belong and where one day I will be. Whether alive or no, it matters little. Apart from where your heart dwells, you live life as a spent Aspen leaf, yellowed, tattered and waiting.

Nickle, Dime...Slot Machine!

I watched as the black Toyota swerved carelessly across both lanes of traffic. Squeezing in between two cars where no room existed, I knew there was something wrong with the operator of this vehicle, but it was, "quitting time." Time to take the Batgirl outfit off and put the alter-ego uniform on. The one of "mother/wife." I've heard it said more than once over the years, "put your blinders on and go home!" But there was that nagging sense of something not quite right about the way the driver of the Toyota swerved between the lane lines. I could never choose to ignore what slapped at my conscience. Something was seriously wrong and I could not choose anything other than Duty, my duty. So with mounting aggravation at having my evening plans changed, I turned my blue and red lights on and finally hit the siren when I got no reaction out of the driver. What was wrong with this guy? For miles he continued as if cars around him, weren't slowing and pulling to the right. When I finally got the Toyota stopped, I could only wonder what would cause a person to choose this path. This path is the long pull of a wicked whiskey or a life-cheating slot machine, it could bring you loss, big loss. Insanely enough, this slot never has a winner, but you'll fool yourself into believing you won as you pull into your driveway. You'll climb out of your car and thank your lucky stars that you made it home without crashing, without killing yourself or worse. You'll make it inside and undress or not and swear you'll never do it again, but even intoxicated you know better. When you wake in the morning alive it will be a mystery to you how you managed to make it home. If next time comes, your luck might not hold. But hey, that's the best part of playing slots...the chance that you'll lose, right?