What will heaven be like.......

Have you ever wondered what heaven will look like? I often ponder the question. I know there is a heaven, how do I know because Jesus said so.

Do not let your heart be troubled; believe in God, believe also in Me. “In My Father’s house are many dwelling places; if it were not so, I would have told you; for I go to prepare a place for you. “If I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you to Myself, that where I am, there you may be also. John 14 1-3.

I have no idea how or when He is coming or if I will make my final journey home before that day. But, I do know that one day I will see the place He has prepared for me (there might be a stop for me in Purgatory).

So, how will heaven look? I am not worried about golden streets or if my “mansion” is a log cabin or a lean to out back – just as long as I make.

There is a story about Jesus and St. Peter walking around heaven one day and Jesus stopped mid step and asked St. Peter – “What is Mr. Smith doing here; I am sure his name was not in my book”. St. Peter stumbled around the question and they continued their walk – once again Jesus stopped and pointed to a women –“Peter, I do not remember Mrs. Jones name being in my book”. Once again St. Peter stumbled and fumbled around the question. The third time this happened Jesus informed St. Peter that he wanted to know exactly what was going on. St. Peter said, “Jesus, you are not going to like the answer.” Jesus told St. Peter to let Him worry about that, just tell him what was going on. St. Peter said, “Well, Jesus they come to the Pearly Gates and when I tell them their name is not in THE BOOK – they go around to the back door and your Mother lets them in”. I just hope the Blessed Mother is at the back door when I get there. I don’t care how I get in!

Will we know people in heaven as we knew them here on earth? My greatest hope is that I will know my Mom and Dad. I think when our parent’s die it touches us in a place in your heart that you never knew existed. I further believe that place will never be filled again until we are reunited with them in heaven. I lost both of my parents in less than a year – while time has helped heal some of the pain that is caused by grief – it will never heal over the large part of my heart that is missing.

Tom’s Mother passed away almost 30 years ago and Sunday while he was preaching he choked up when he mentioned something about all those that have gone before us. I do not think anyone even noticed it but me. I asked him later if he was thinking about his Mom, and as I guessed he was. So, time does not completely take away the loss we feel at the death of someone that meant so very much to us.

For years my Dad carried around a piece of paper with a joke on it that someone gave him – in essence it said – “when you get to heaven don’t stand around with your mouth open in amazement at who is there because some folks will be wondering how you got there”. I do not think we will realize the ones missing – what kind of heaven would that be!

So, for now I walk by faith into the future knowing that one day I will be in the presence of God and my only wish is that I will know those that have gone before me. I hope that Dad and I can sit and talk about everything and nothing like we use to and I can ask Tom’s mother all those questions about his childhood that I never got to ask her.

Ya'll come now ye hear!

Memories are yarns - does it matter

When you think back to your childhood what are your fondest memories? I have so very many, growing up in the county only adds to the multitude of memories that I can embellish and tell anytime the need arises. Since I was young I have been know for the “tales” I could spin. My Dad use to say that I could remember things that happened before I was born. This is more than likely a true statement – because I have always loved a good story and I learned at the feet of some of the best yarn spinners to come out of Alabama. I can remember falling asleep many nights curled up on the floor beside the couch listening to my relatives talk about the “good ole days”. If my Grand dad told a story my Uncle J.B. would have to up him one – this could go on for hours. If one went hunting and shot a deer, a couple of rabbits and a squirrel the other one shot a bear. I was young and believed everything and when I told my friends my Uncle shot 2 bears and a wolf. So, who knows how much of what is stuck in the creases of my mind is something I heard or something I added and for the most part who cares. Everyone loves a good yarn! There are some things that are my memories that need nothing added.
My Mom and Dad had only 3 “fight’s” that I can remember. My Dad worshiped my Mom and he expected the rest of us to worship at the pedestal he had placed her on. One day Mom went to “town” with my aunt to get a makeover at Merrill Normans – this make over was suppose to make you look 10 years younger. Mom would have been around 35, not old by any stretch of the imagination. Well, Dad and I got up that morning and went fishing as we often did on Saturday. Not long after we got home Mom knocked on the front door. Dad went to answer it – of course he knew who it was – but he played along. When Dad opened the door he said “Hi, little girl have you lost your Mother”. Dad just knew this would make Mom feel great – she was suppose to look 10 years young after all. Things did not go quite as Dad planned. Mom pushed passed him, ran straight to the bedroom, flung herself on the bed and cried like her heart was broken. Dad and I stood at the front door looking at each stopped in mid laugh. Dad had never been able to handle Mom crying and now he was the one that had caused her to “take to her bed”. He tried explaining that he thought she looked very nice but the tears would not stop. So, we sat on the couch and waited. As I have mentioned we did not have indoor plumbing at this point. There was no bathroom for Mother to go in and wash up – she had to walk out through the living room right pass me and Dad. We waited and waited finally the bedroom door opened and what we saw look like a raccoon with red lipstick smeared on it’s face – BUT we did not crack a smile. Mom walked pass us and into the kitchen – Dad and I slipped out the front door our plans were to lay low for awhile. Dad was heartbroken that he had hurt Mom’s feelings and was clueless about how to make things better.
We feed the hogs and got some corn out of the shed for the cows. By the time we got back to the house Mom’s face was washed clean and not a word was ever spoken about it again. I will say that Mom never went to have her “face done” again.
The other 2 involved a Masonic Bible and a movie about Pinky on a Horse named Stinky –but those are tells for another day.
I do know that my Mom and Dad loved each other with a love that not many people will ever experience. As different as they were , love was the common thread woven through their lives.
He was her strength and she was his heart beat.

To Blessed to be stressed .......

I am stressed out – if I had a dollar for every time I have heard that statement over the past 2 weeks I would have – well, I would have enough money to buy a really nice pair of shoes. Stress makes people react in different ways. Some people eat – hey I will use any excuse to eat – some people get very quiet and withdraw – this is not my style – some people sleep a lot – heck I wish I could sleep – some people cry – I am not a crier unless it is a sad movie – some people go home and take it out on their family – hey it is just me and Tom and I can’t afford to tick him off he might stop cooking, if I kick one of the dogs it would break my and their hearts – some people take it out on store clerks, resident managers, maintenance men, leasing agents, bookkeepers or regional manager – anyone that they can feel superior to. I think the latter is the hardest for all of us to deal with. Why would Ms. Smith in 101 that sent me a Thank You note last week come in today and curse me out? Why would Mr. Jones stop me in the parking lot and jump my case when he was so thankful last week when I fished his watch out of his toilet? Why would Jane in bookkeeping be so rude to me today when last week she told me a really fully joke when I called. Why would my boss tell me in one breath that I was doing a great job and in the next tell me that I could “hit the road” if I did not like the way things were being done?
Oh, we all get those “a—chewing” that we deserve, and we KNOW when we deserve them – then there are the ones that come out of nowhere and make us feel like we have just hit the “Twilight Zone”. You know the ones that you walk away from shaking our heads trying to figure out where things went south.
Well, folks I hate to say - but it ain’t about you. As big as our ego maybe for the most part when someone dumps on us for no reason there is a much deeper cause for the outburst. Maybe they had a fight with their spouse that morning, maybe their boss just jumped on them and you know the ole saying “IT rolls down hill”. Worst case scenario they are truly just on rude son of a gun taking advantage of their position.
For the most part we will never know why today someone chose to rain on our parade. What we have to realize is that the venom we are sprayed with does not determine our worth. No one should ever be allowed to take away our dignity and pride. But so often we allow these encounters to “color” the picture we carry in our minds eye of our own worth. As self confident as we all want those around us to perceive our actions, for the most part we are all seeking approval. Just like a little kid we want others to tell use “Good Job” – or at least say thank you.
GET OVER IT LIFE AIN’T FAIR AND IT AIN’T GOIN TO START WITH US!
So, the next time you are feeling “stressed out” try not to pay it forward – and if someone “rains on your parade” say a little prayer for them and Thank God that you are TOO BLESSED to be STRESSED, or plot their demise – but that is such a waste of a perfectly good hour, day or week.
Keep smiling and remember – You are somebody cause God don’t make no junk! Or as in my case I am still a work in progress – in His time not mine.

Car Salesman - God Bless them all........

We went to buy a new car this weekend. Buying cars is a task that I usually do alone! There are two things in life that Tom hates. One is going to the dentist and the other is – you guessed it – shopping for a new car. I did as much leg work on the internet as possible prior to venturing out in public with the car salesman loathing Deacon. This is a man that makes his money selling heating and air systems and has the highest margin of profit in the company. You would think he would enjoy the “dance” that car salesmen do. You know where they give you a price and you say that is too high, then they say they will go ask their manager if he can do any better. They go behind some mysterious closed door count to 100 then come back out and present you with the best deal they have seen all day. You start to leave and they play run and touch the wall again. After a couple of hours you reach a price that you think you can live with everyone is happy UNTIL – you have to go into that dark office at the end of the hall with the guy wearing a visor and has a pencil behind his ear. Somehow the good deal you thought you were getting is now costing you $2,500 more than it was 20 minutes ago. Then there is the extended warranty spill and the gap insurance talk. When you think you have heard it all you get the life insurance and maintenance song. Finally you get down to signing the papers. Tom wants all of this to take place in less than 30 minutes. I spent 3 days haggling with the salesman before I bought my Bug.
I arranged for financing before we hit the lots. I called and talked to several internet salesmen and had narrowed the search to a local dealer. Off we went. The guy I spoke with on the internet passed us off to another guy – I had asked that they have the two cars we were interested in as close to the show room as possible. Well, that did not happen – off to a bad start already! When the salesman locates the car he did not have the keys so we stand in the hot sun for 15 minutes waiting for him to locate the keys. To my knowledge he never did! We went back in the show room and Tom told the guy he did not need to drive the car just tell him the bottom line price. The guy comes back with a sheet with the sticker price one it. Blood pressure is now going up. Tom informed the guy that he was not going to pay sticker price – then the guy made what turned out to be the death nail – “do you not want me to make any money on the car”. We are out the door folks! Of course the general manager comes chasing after us and offers Tom $2,500 off the car. This just served to tick Tom off more. He told the guy he had ask for his best price and told it was the sticker price now all of a sudden he had “found” $2,500 he could take off. We left. We went to CarMax and to tell you the truth if they had been able to find what Tom wanted we would have bought it from them. They had very few Toyota’s – they guy said they sell as quickly as they get them in.
Time to take a break – Tom went to Mass and I stayed home and made a few more calls. I called a dealership not far from the house and spoke to the internet salesman – he sounded 12 on the phone. I told him what we were looking for and he said – I have the EXACT car for your husband! Son, son if you only knew that you were about to meet a man of the cloth that seems to lose his religion when he enters a car dealer. I talked to Eric for quite awhile, I explained the problem. I made an appointment for 7 pm. I do not know who the patron saint of car salesmen is but I suggested to this kid that he find out and sent up a prayer – I would be doing the same. When we arrived Eric came running out. Heavens, he was only 12, you could not help but like the kid. He had the car front and center – no waiting for keys and no standing in the heat. From the moment I saw the car I knew it was Tom. We drove it – then Tom asking the ever telling question – What is your best price. Eric was prepared – I had informed him that he would have one shoot. Eric did me proud! It took us almost 2 hours to make the deal, sign the paperwork and clean out the old car. Not the 30 minutes that Tom had hoped for but not the 4 hours that I was afraid of. The kid was funny, he kept asking me if Tom was doing OK and for the most part he was.
Could someone please explain to me how a man with infinite patients when dealing with the sick and dying, with someone that is down on their luck and needs a willing ear or the parishioner that did not quite understand the homily can become the epiphany of impatience when doing something as mundane as buying a car. I have pondered this question many times and I think the answer quite simply is – a car for Tom is not a status symbol, it is not an extension of his personality or his self worth. A car is simply the means by which he gets from one place to another. In his mind buying it should be like buying a pair of shoes – these are the one I want , they are the color I like, they fit and the price is printed right on the box!
The readings today were about Vanity – how “STUFF” takes the place of God in our life. For most of us this is so very true – if you want to talk about “stuff” I got stuff – for Tom stuff is simply “Stuff” – his eyes are on the final reward and he want need any “stuff” when he heads HOME.
Lord, help me to lay aside “stuff” and put you first and foremost in my life.

I have part-timers!

I have part-timers! No, I do not have Alzheimer because most of the time my brain functions as it should. Then there are those times when I walk into a room and have no idea what I am there for. Today someone ask for my cell phone number, this is a number I have repeated no less than a million times, for the life of me I could not remember the last 2 numbers. I have never been good with names so as long I as do not forget my husbands or the kid’s names I figure I am ahead of the game. I lose my keys and glasses on regular bases. For the most part that does not bother me, except for the times that Tom tells me they are on top of my head. So, I have decided I do not have Alzheimer, I have part-timers. It is like when a tape hits a blank spot then starts up again. It is just a momentary blank spot in my tape. My greatest fear is that I will wake up one morning and my entire tape will be blank.
I am not trying to make light of a serious disease. Quite the contrary – Tom had two uncles die from this awful debilitating disease. They suffered for many years as did the family. Tom and I have also visited several people over the pasted years for church that had Alzheimer’s. It is so hard to watch a once brilliant person struggle to figure out how to put on their shoes and socks. Thankfully there comes a point when the suffer no longer remembers that he does not remember. While this is comforting for them it is so very difficult for their family.
So, you see I have seen this diease up close and personal and I am truly worried. If this horrible diease should be my cross someday I can only pray that I can fade quietly into that dark night without my family having to suffer. One lady that Tom and I use to visit never failed to say when we left “now don’t forget next week I will not know who you are”. True to her word, the next week we had to spent 5 minutes explaining who we were. She could not remember what church she attended, but she never forgot a word of the prayers we prayed with and for her. One man we visited in a nursing home insisted that the Pope had lunch with him every day. Niki, a lady we visited for many years, had a lucid moment and told me that she knew she was a pain in the ass but that God would bless me someday for coming to see her. I agreed with her and told her to tell me again, and she did. Niki lived with her daughter and one day she called and said that she just could not deal with it any longer. Niki was convinced that someone had stolen her bedroom, not the whole house just her bedroom. I went over and spent some time with Niki. I agreed with her that indeed her bedroom had been stolen but I had it on good authority that they would bring it back before time for her to go to bed. She was content with my solution. My heart broke for a daughter that could not accept, at that moment, that her once intelligent and strong Mother no longer existed.
A lady at church who's Mother ended her worldly journey this week after not being among for several years. Her daughter never missed a Sunday bring her Mom to mass. Again I saw someone that did not recognize the daughter sitting beside her but did not miss a word in the prayers that we prayed.
I am left with this question: if someday that veil of darkness covers my mind will my faith have been strong enough that I will remember the prayers?

Lord, please give a special portion of Your grace to all the families that are touched by this horrible disease.

Wondering mind

There was a lot of talk about prayer this week at Mass. Any time there are talks about prayer it sets my mind to wondering. Well, most anything will cause my mind to wonder; sometimes it wonders so far I have no idea where it is. It always makes me feel guilty when the priest talks about prayer (hey, I am Catholic and we all have miles on our frequent flyer's card from guilt trips). I have been on retreat after retreat on different types of prayer. I attended a silent retreat on prayer and almost drove the nun that was the retreat master crazy. I have no idea what I was thinking when I signed up for a silent retreat other than the fact that Tom attended one and love it. I think I made it about 2 hours before I started texting Marian. At the end of the weekend the nun asked each of us what we would take away from the retreat, I replied “That I will never attend another silent retreat”. I drove 4.5 hours twice to attend centering prayer retreats. At one retreat we spent a lot of time in meditation, we had yoga classes, we drew pictures of our “inner child”, and mine looked like a stick figure with a skirt on. I have had my chakras cleansed and my pressure points determined by a pendulum. I have drummed to the inner beat of my heart song. I sat in front of a singing bowl and let myself float with the high pitched drown. I attended a Native American retreat and sat in a sweat lodge. I bought meditation tapes by the dozens. I tried aroma therapy. I have burned so many incenses that the fire department showed up. I bought Catholic and Christian prayer books. I had chaplets and beautiful rosaries. All of this was done in my attempt to learn how to talk to God, in other words pray.
I wanted to be able to sit down and do something that would immediately put me in contact with God. I was looking for a way to access God quickly so that I could get the answers to MY problems. I wanted His full attention and I wanted it NOW! There had to be a way to accomplish this if only I find the right “something” to do, or the right “thing” to listen to. I am sorry to say I never found the Holy Grail for quick access to God through prayer.
I may have been the only Mother in history told not to breast feed because the doctor was afraid I would never sit still long enough for the baby to finish. You have heard of a type A personality well I have a A++ personality – I just don’t have time to waste sitting still. Hey, I only got some many minutes to live and I don’t want to waste any of them!
Centering prayer put me to sleep. Meditation caused my mind to wander. The singing bowl makes my dog howl. Aroma therapy made me hungry. Burning incense takes Tom off the deep end and it would be a full time job for someone to keep my chakras clear. So I had to find something that worked for me.
I have finally learned that one does not need a special place or a thing to pray. I have learned that immediate access to God is as easy as saying “Here I am Lord”. I pray when I drive, I pray when I sit on the front porch and watch the sun set, I pray when I walk around the yard looking at all the beautiful things God has put on earth for me to enjoy. I pray when I watch the news for people I don’t even know. I pray when I pass a wreck on the express way. I pray when I see a homeless person that I cannot stop to help. I pray at Mass. I still have my prayer room, wonderful meditation tapes that I listen to from time to time and beautiful rosaries. These “things” still serve a purpose from time to time. But most of the time all I need is an open heart and a willing spirit.
By the way A COUPLE of other thing I learned along the way – sometimes it is best just to listen to what He has to say and remember God does not wear the same watch that we do – so answers are subject to His time not ours.

Does God have a smit button?

I saw a bumper sticker today that said “Caution in case of rapture this car will be empty”. Since I was a little kid I have heard talk about the “Rapture”. That it will happen in the twinkling of an eye. Two will be working in the field and then there will be one. When I was young the thought of the “rapture” scared the bee juice out of me. The threat of the rapture along with the tomb stone in our little county church that read – Enoch walked with God then he was no more - gave a kid a lot to ponder. The best I could figure it out when the “rapture” hit all the Godly folks would float up to heaven leaving those not so Godly people here on earth. I knew those left behind would be busy for a few days getting all the cars off the roads and cleaning up the airplanes that crashed so I would have time to put my plan into action. I knew that God had been keeping score since the day I was born and I was a bit short in the Godly department I would be one of the ones left behind. I had a dog named Skipper that I tried to keep with me at all times. Remember we lived in the country and I was free to wander without supervision. My thought was that Skipper was the best dog in the whole wide world and if the “rapture” occurred while I was out walking in the woods or going down the road to visit family Skipper would suddenly disappear and I would know that the “rapture” had hit. I knew that my Dad would be taken up but figured it was a pretty safe bet that Mother and I would be left behind. My plan was: as soon as Skipper hit the wind I would run home and Mother and I would take out looking for my cousins – I knew for a fact they would be left behind! If for no other reason than for all the things they had done to me. Together we would form our own little city and take care of each other. My plan did not go much further than uniting with my Mom and my derelict cousins. I have no idea what I felt I had done at age 8 or so that was so bad that I would forfeit my right to leave on the rapture express. But in my little pea brain I figured God was looking down from heaven and keeping up with every single little bad thing I did and I always had to keep the score even. In my mind’s eye I knew God’s scale was not tipped in my favor. Not sure how this notion formed, I guess something I heard at church got kind ‘a twisted in my young mind.
I would like to report that around the age of 12 or so I came to the realization that God did not have a smite button He was subject to push at any moment. Unfortunately it was much later in life before I understood and accepted the love and grace of my Heavenly Father. Trying to balance God’s scales followed me well into my adult life. I just could not imagine myself worthy of God unconditional love. Trust me I was not a bad person, for the most part I was a very loving and caring person. Just never caring or loving enough to balance the scale in my favor.
Now liberating it was when I finally realized that I was worthy of God’s love and grace. The realization that God was not out “to get me” but wanted the very best that life had to offer literally brought me to my knees. To know and understand that I could ask for forgiveness and receive was an awesome feeling.
I know longer believe that the “rapture” will leave empty cars and airplanes. My Mom and Dad have both died and I know they are BOTH in heaven enjoying every moment in God total presence. I also know I will be there with them one day – although I might not make it on the express elevator a stop in purgatory won't be a bad thing!
As for Enoch walking with God and then he was not more – when I was a kid I made sure God was never where I walked! Now I pray that He is with me every step I take.