The Gift of Bread

If there's one grocery item I hate to be out of, it's bread. I crave it in some form at almost every meal. So even when our pantry was shrinking this week, in direct proportion to our checking account, I didn't think it was possible for us to actually be out of this hearty staple. But then, we were down to our last loaf, and I was even out of bread flour so I couldn't make any in the breadmachine.

It wasn't a big problem, as I had plans to grocery shop big-time tomorrow when our money comes rolling in. But I was in for a pleasant surprise when our next-door neighbor comes over with a big box of bread to give away. He volunteers at some food distribution center and occasionally shares some of their excess food. I took eight loaves, putting most of them in the freezer. Dean and I cut into a loaf and it was soft, delicious wheat bread.

God tells us in Isaiah 33:16 "...Bread will be given him, His water shall be sure." It was just a reminder to me from God that He is still in charge and there's no need to worry about finances. God will provide. And He is the Bread of Life. John 6:48

What's Your Name Again?

Some of the pleasures in life my husband says he still enjoys are bringing in the mail, locking the door at night, and answering the phone. It's sometimes risky to let him do these things--such as when he applied for his own credit card and started using it; or when he can't remember who called, except that it was important.

I got a real chuckle today when he answered the phone. The caller said, "This is Jennifer from St. Elizabeth's Home Medical. Is Teresa there?" He hollers to me in another room, "Teresa, it's Elizabeth from Home Medical." Jennifer and I both had a hearty laugh out of that one. She has met Dean and understands.

I always get a kick out of how he tries to remember his home health nurses' names. Poor Carla has been Kyla, Kayla, Kay, Carlene, and about every derivative in between.

When our granddaughter Julia was born a couple of years ago, he was having a terrible time remembering her name. So we told him it was the same as his favorite actress, Julia Roberts. The next day he called her Sophia. I forgot Sophia Loren was another one of his favorite actresses.

Thank heaven, there is Someone in this universe, who remembers our name. Isaiah 43:1 says, "...'Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by your name. You are mine.'"

God remembers when we can't.

"Hey, G-pop, this call's for you," says Sophia, er Julia.

A Complete Makeover

Last night my son-in-law came over to give his father-in-law a haircut. Dean had been requesting one a few times and finally got his wish. We were hoping he'd consent to some hair loss in the mustache area, but once again it was a no-go for that one. He also refused an eyebrow trim. We can only dream for a complete "makeover" someday.

Aren't we like that with God though? We're willing to give Him some of our sins, but there are others that we consistently hang onto. There's no rhyme or reason to our letting go. Some things are harder to part with than others. Usually because we just love them more.

We should be willing to go along with God, no matter what He requests from us. And that's all He can do. God isn't in the demanding business. His commandments are actually requests. Even though they aren't optional, if we truly love Him and want to be presentable before the universe.

Help me go along with God in ALL the areas of my life. He wants to give me a "makeover" that will astound the universe. All I have to do is consent.

An Invisible Injury

Memorial Day should be a day of just that--remembering those who have passed away, especially those in the military. We call them servicemen because that's exactly what they do. They serve us, so we can enjoy the freedoms and safety we have in this country. And no matter how deficient you see our country in these areas, it's hard to deny that we are better off than many places in the world.

We should honor all the men and women in uniform for their sacrifices. None of those serving in dangerous fields will come back unaffected. And many of the wounded will feel their losses every day. Even those with invisible injuries, such as PTSD and traumatic brain injuries, have given up their previous lives and are striving to create a new normal for themselves.

My personal experience with a brain-injured husband allows me to feel great empathy for that segment of the military, those with TBIs. It's a scary world when you can't remember what you did an hour ago, or even less. And the families are no less affected. I pray that God will give strength to them all and show me ways I may help lighten their load when I can.

Here's a couple of pictures of my dad--just a teenager. He was in Japan right after the bombing. They didn't exactly appreciate our presence. But who could blame them. Dad never talked about being in Japan while we were growing up. I always wondered why he didn't like going to funerals. I think dead bodies scared him. But he made it known he wanted a military funeral for himself. It was the least we could do.

Support for Caregivers

I've been toying with the idea of starting a caregiver support group again. Nothing noble about it. I think I will be its biggest beneficiary. I could really use another night off once a month. I wouldn't expect many caregivers to be there; it's hard to get away every month. But it's just good to have an evening out yourself now and then to meet with others who share similar challenges. Or even who have shared them in the past. I still like to talk about caring for my parents, even though my focus is now totally on my husband. It's a good way to get inspiration, support, and affirmation from each other.

Even though we have a Father in heaven to support us, God knew the value of the human element too. That's why He sent His Son down to earth to reach us on the human level.

Attending a support group is not a sign of weakness. It's an indication that you know where to find strength, also known as support. And these days I gotta' find it anywhere I can.

Remembering

This evening Dean and I visited my parents' graves. I still don't how I survived the year 2010 and losing both mom and dad to cancer. Talk about caregiving. I was stretched to the limit, making over a hundred 50-mile trips back and forth. But thanks to many family members pulling together we survived the tragedy.

Here they are in the middle of that year, celebrating their 60th wedding anniversary.

The memories they gave us live on!

Food Party

My daughter and her two girls came over this evening around the supper hour. "G-pop" and I had already eaten, as we usually eat early around 3:30-4:30. Dean's appetite is just voracious these days with one of the medicines he's taking. Every hour or so, he's asking for something to eat. I try to feed him low-calorie foods, but his weight is still on the upswing.

Our toddler granddaughters have a very good reason to be hungry throughout the day too. They are growing, so their momma is constantly thinking about their next meal too. (I gave them some of our leftovers from supper, just to get them a little satisfied til they got home.) Kayla and I traded knowing glances when the girls were asking for something to eat. Yes, food is definitely on both our agendas pretty much all day, it seems. Life is just one big food party around here.

Speaking of hunger, how much do I hunger for God? Is He on my agenda all day? If we truly love God, we should never be satisfied with our intake. We should always be wanting more of Him, shouldn't we?

How else can we grow?