Obedience and Blessings

 I have this most beautiful soft pink, almost blush, silk blouse that I have treasured for more than 20 years, possibly as many as 30 years. Today, in my desperation to find a blouse that wasn't too hot or too cold that would go with my black nylon skirt. In my search, I happened across this pink silk blouse, nicely pressed, and ready to wear. 

So off I went to church, wearing my soft pink blouse and stroking the arms of my blouse as I drove. I greeted people I knew at church and got up from my pew located by the chapel exit doors to run down the hallway to make copies of the ward maintenance schedule that I updated so that it would be current on the bulletin boards.  

No one was in the library, so I rushed back to the chapel entering through the chapel doors on the opposite side of the room from where I exited. I rushed past to my seat and just as I sat down, my cousin came up and said, "I need to tell you something." She leaned in very close and whispered in my ear, "You have a big hole under your left armpit exposing your undergarments."

I reached across my body with my right hand and felt. "Oh my goodness!" The hole was at least 6 inches long and exposed my entire armpit area and then some.  What should I do? I was supposed to say the closing prayer.

I went to the Elder that had asked me to say the closing prayer and told him, "I have a wardrobe malfunction and need to leave.  I'm not sure I will be back in time to say the closing prayer." He said he would take care of it.  I went to my pew, gathered up my leather folder, and my red Michael Kors purse given to me by my daughter, and headed to the car. 

As I drove the 15 minutes home, I began thinking, "I didn't get to sleep until 1 A.M. and I am very tired. Maybe I should just stay home and rest. But I am missing the children's performance as they are performing today. Wait until I get home and if I can't find anything to replace this blouse, I'm staying home."

Once home, I took off the blouse to discover not only was there a large hole almost 8 inches along the underside of the shoulder seam on the left side. To my surprise, I also found a 3" hole near the underside of the right shoulder! Holy cow! So I began looking for something to wear. 

A large over-the-door hook hangs on the inside of my bedroom closet door. That hook holds clothes that I either can't wear, didn't wear, or want to wear in the future. Two garments from the door hung an embroidered, cream-colored cotton, V-neck, button down the front sweater. I grabbed it and laid it on the bed. 

"Am I going back to church? Or am I going to lie across the bed?" ran through my mind. "Let's see how this sweater fits.  I haven't worn it since before Mike (my ex-husband) moved out." It fit. So I went ahead and raced for the front door, hooking Max, the German Shepherd back onto his 40-foot cable (he is an escape artist and the fence doesn't contain him) and ran to the car.  

The children's program had already started when I arrived, but my friend, Allegra, had saved me a seat - the same seat I sat in before I left! I sat down and began listening to the program.  The music and learning that the children shared gave me goosebumps and brought tears to my eyes. I almost missed it. I was so thankful that I didn't stay home. The children shared what they learned about Old Testament prophets and how important it is to keep the commandments and obey our covenants with God. I had listened to the still small voice and returned to church instead of laying down. I felt very blessed.

After Sacrament meeting, I started down the hall and my friend, Joyce, stopped me to chat, and let me know how glad she was that I had returned to church after rushing home to change. She was carrying 2 large bags and I offered to carry one for her. She looked at me and said, "Would you like to learn something about genealogy today?

I would miss Relief Society if I said yes, but my genealogy searches in the past had yielded me nothing on the top line of my tree at my fifth great-great-grandfather and great-great-grandmother. I had gotten their names from my great-grandfather's marriage license, but that was as far as I could get. Forty-three years of digging in my roots yielded to me nothing. I looked at Joyce and replied, "Yes, I would like to find more than just my great-great-grandfather."

Joyce unlocked the door to the genealogy lab, turned on the lights, walked across the room to the end computer, and sat down. I glanced across the room and noticed how many things had changed since I was last there.  The monitors were 24-inch monitors and very new, making it much easier to read the fine print on many documents. The chairs were really cushy and new as well.

For the following 45 minutes, many doors opened. I had password issues for starters and had to reset passwords on both Family Search and Ancestry. Then Joyce directed me toward the little green leaves on my Ancestry account. I clicked on the one for my great-great-grandfather and it revealed there was a marriage license available. I began crying. For 43 years, I had been digging in these roots, finding nothing, not getting anywhere and feeling frustrated about my genealogy searches. 

I clicked on the document and was surprised to find a marriage date and the names and locations of yet another generation of grandparents. Each discovery made me cry more. I almost missed finding them by staying home, but my obedience to 'Keep Holy the Lord's Day' and returning to church had blessed me beyond my wildest dreams!

I am a child of God and obeying his laws and commandments blesses me each and every day. I am thankful for the Gospel that teaches me of His word and all that I should do to return home to Him. It isn't easy all the time, but if I listen carefully when I ponder topics such as returning to church, He directs me on what I should do. Today, rich blessings came in the form of more branches on my family tree. I will continue to search and expand my tree. I am truly thankful for the guidance I am given in all things by Him.

PTSD

 Today, I was where I am supposed to be.  As a customer service agent who works from a large call center, I never know who I will speak to when I answer the phone with, "Thank you for calling ******. My name is Kate. How may I help you?"

A woman replied with her name, clearly shaken and near tears, and told me of the problem.  She and her husband reside in Ft. Myers, Florida, which just a week ago experienced a devastating hurricane named Ian. While Ian flooded many areas and the surge wiped out many homes, her issue is greater than that.  

This woman I will call Barbara to make it easier to understand is married to a post-Viet Nam vet who suffers from PTSD. Ft. Myers now resembles a war zone and has exacerbated the husband's PTSD. I will further refer to the husband as Mark for easy understanding. Barbara was near tears because last evening, her husband purchased Amtrak tickets to get them up into New England and get the both of them out of Florida.  

There was a problem with the transaction made using a debit card, at least that is what they believed. But more worrisome than the debit card to me was Barbara's state of mind. I know how small things can cause a person with PTSD to blow up and become unreasonable. I listened to Barbara as she wept and explained that the real issue was her husband's reaction as he blew things totally out of proportion.  My heart hurt for Barbara. 

I spent 22.5 years married to a man with PTSD from being in Viet Nam as a Marine. I remember that at the beginning of our marriage, I thought his lack of self-control wasn't off the charts, but I had no idea how much worse it gets with age and additional trauma. I knew Barbara's fear and the pain she was feeling and how she was examining how she could have easily minimized this event by possibly making the transaction herself and keeping it quiet and resolving the issue when he wasn't around.  But she couldn't.

She wasn't on his account and he had made the transaction from an account with only his name on it. I could not assist her in getting this cleared up and could not share any information from the account with her. However, I inquired whether her husband was attending PTSD classes at the nearest VA to help him control his anger. He is, but like me, she is still having just as rough a time of dealing with his outbursts as I did with my husband. 

I remember how irrational he was and would blow up when he dropped something such as a box of cereal and then would kick it to death while cereal spewed everywhere. I remember how saying, "No" or disagreeing with him would send him into an unreasonable rage. I kept my purse with my keys by the front door so that I could make a quick escape if needed.  Occasionally, if my parents weren't home, I slept in their basement. If they were home, I found a place to park the car and slept in the car. 

For the longest time, I was afraid of befalling harm.  Then one day I was no longer afraid. I did get hurt physically, but emotionally, I no longer felt anything. I didn't feel love, hate, or fear.  I prayed a lot for deliverance and knew that whatever happened, Heavenly Father was in control and the only thing I could do was pray and have faith.  

I have now been free of that relationship for 12 years.  At first, I was lost, but as time passed, I found myself.  I now suffer from a type of PTSD along with Adrenal Fatigue as a result of so much stress for such a long period. For fear of entering a similar situation, I'm cautious about entering relationships. I am working on myself. Healing is the most important thing. It took years to get here and it will take years to heal. 

If you know someone with war-related PTSD, encourage them to get help. The ones they love will suffer as much as they do not get the help that can get them back into the life they deserve..

Uncle Bill's Self-Improvement List

 Today, we (all my family and his) buried my Uncle Bill who lived 89 years, 4 months, and 3 days in this world. He spent the past 4-5 years battling Alzheimer's and it finally took its toll. He was a unique, one-of-a-kind man that served my aunt and the world he lived in with his quiet demeanor and firm faith in God. 

As a photographer, he always had us 'group up' so he could snap a family photo could at each get-together to mark the passage of time. Family group photos were a must in Uncle Bill's mind. The family group always tried to outdo him with our antics.  Uncle Bill never ceased to amaze me by how fast he could move from the back of the camera to the group as he set the timer for 10 seconds so he could be in the photo with the group.

As my cousins and aunt went through Uncle Bill's things, they found an entire piece of paper with what I would call his mottos for living.  I would like to include it here in hopes that anyone reading this will see it and decide that living with these self-helps will help to better their lives.

Don't postpone joy.

Stop blaming others.

Take responsibility.

Count your blessings.

Do more than is expected.

Take time to smell the roses.

Be there when people need you.

Never deprive someone of hope, it may be all they have.

Be someone's hero.

Don't be afraid to say I'm sorry.

Don't tailgate.

Don't rain on other people's parade.

Improve your performance by improving your attitude.

Say "Thank You" a lot.

Say "Please" a lot.

Leave everything a little better than you found it.

Don't interrupt.

Keep good company.

Keep your promise.

Be kinder than necessary.

Make it a habit to do nice things.

Never give up on anyone. Miracles happen every day.

Live so that when your children think of fairness, caring, and integrity, they think of you.

Remember other people's birthdays.

Don't nag.

Be forgiving of yourself and others.

As Nathan, my cousin, read through this list during the funeral, I made a mental list of a few of these I need to work on. As I think of Uncle Bill, I believe he lived up to this list.  His patience and quiet demeanor remembered by all of us.  His list will stand as a reminder to each of us as a checksheet of how we need to live.  I know we will all miss Uncle Bill. Alzheimer's may think it won this battle, but in reality, it was a stepping stone for my uncle to return home.  God Bless Uncle Bill! 

I Want Something More

 Have you ever just sat down and taken a serious look at your life and where you are today? Do you ever just stop and think, I know there is more to it than this? Do you ask yourself serious questions such as how can I get from this point A to point B where I want to really be?

Recently, I have done just that. I'm fast approaching 70 and I am not where I imagine I would be at this age when I was 16, 30, and even 50 years old. I want more from life than clocking in at work at 9:30 of the morning and then clocking out at 4.  It just seems like I'm a hamster on a wheel, going round and round and getting nowhere fast. I don't want to do this all my life! So I am working on a plan to change things.

The first thing that needs to be changed is my attitude that I'm stuck in a rut like a wagon wheel, unable to go forward.  I'm not really stuck, but I've accepted that this is how it will be. However, I don't have to accept the situation and it is up to me to change my status quo.

Second, I need to look for opportunities and instead of waiting for them to come to me, I need to get up, go out, and find something different that interests and excites me.  I don't have to settle for a 9-5 job that is repetitive. Yes, it pays the bills, but I can transition to something else of an evening while retaining my job during the day until my transition plan takes off, and then I can say 'adios' to my current job.

Don't get me wrong! My current job pays pretty well for a stay-at-home job. The income is nothing to sneeze at for a customer service agent. There are days I know I am where I'm supposed to be that day as I've heard some stories about customer service agents that make me want to wring someone's neck. I do the best job I can do to give the clients I speak with the best customer service experience possible. I do not brush them off and try to get them to go away. I help them resolve their issues.

But I have always wanted to be a writer. I have been writing since I was 8 or 9 to pen pals, English classes, college classes, jobs, and more.  I've always excelled at putting words on paper. Being able to do it makes me happy. I have currently challenged myself to write at least 400 words a day as soon as I get off work if I have nothing else after work.  

So far, so good. I am excited about getting my thoughts out and into a format that others can enjoy. This is my game plan. Please help me move forward so that I can do something better with my life. Suggestions are welcome in your comments. Thank you so much for being my readers!

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The Beauty that Surrounds Me

 As I take the backroads down to Mom's house, I am surrounded by cornfields and soybean fields.  The beauty of this trip is the ever-changing crops on each side of the road. The story begins in the Spring with the turning of the earth. I often see large tractors turning up clouds of dust as they sow the seeds that begin the kaleidoscope of colors for the following months.  

The brown earth lays unbroken for most of the first week. Then, little by little, equally spaced bits of green poke through the dirt as the seedlings break the ground. With each trip to Mom's for the next several weeks, I see less and less brown and more and more green until finally, I see no brown at all but verdant green be it corn or soybeans. 

While the soybeans grow slowly compared to corn, over a period of 3-4 months the beans attain their full height of 3-4 feet. Corn, now that is another amazing miracle! Initially, corn can grow up to 8 inches or more in a day if the weather is hot and humid, which is the weather that corn grows best.  In a  matter of 6-8 weeks, corn will reach a lofty height of 8 feet or greater. I find it very amazing to see the stages of corn. Each season, the farm fields surrounding my home are planted with either soybeans or corn and occasionally wheat.  I have spent 34 years watching these fields surrounding my home and  along the roads I take to visit Mom grow, mature, and harvested which completes their life cycle.

As a native-born Hoosier, I also think about my life cycle. I grew up a country girl surrounded by farm fields to which I paid very little attention.  Only in the last half of my life have I taken the time to notice my environment and the life that is here.  Compared to a cornstalk, I like thinking I am currently ripening the ears on my stalks and I am starting to turn brown on the bottom of my stalk. How long it takes for me to be harvested, like the corn, is totally up to my master. He and He alone knows when that will be. 

This much I do know, I must bloom where I am planted and I am planted in Indiana soil.  It is here my life cycle begins and will end even though I yearn for other places. I know what to expect here.  I know the seasons, I know what weather to expect in any given season.  It is here I will stay. I am committed to the soil and the life that it brings.

Michaela and Max

 Here in Southern Indiana, the weather is unexpectedly cool.  I don't believe it made it above 70 today as inside, the thermostat says it is 68 and the air conditioner hasn't kicked on once.  I am not complaining.  This is my favorite weather - cool nights, shirt-sleeve weather during the day.  I don't know of any place where the weather is like this year-round.

My 2 dogs, Elsie, a Giant Schnauzer, and Michaela, a Pembroke Corgi, were getting up in years and I wanted a puppy to learn things from them.  I have always done this with dogs and puppies and never regretted it. So last September, I bought a male German Shepherd pup (what was I thinking??!!).  He was 11 weeks old at the time and not much of a puppy, just a medium-sized awkward dog with long legs.  Now, going on 15 months old, he is about 90 pounds and mouthy. He argues with what he believes is unfair treatment (kennel time when I can't keep an eye on him) and has to have his nose on my person most of the time and insists on mouthing me which I don't allow as I consider it bad behavior.

I grew up with German Shepherds but they were always females. These wonderful dogs kept herd on all of us children and probably saved some of us from doing things we shouldn't do. They always stayed where we children were including indoors at night. Hence my memory fails me as I do not remember our dog shedding the way Max does.

I promised myself a couple of years after I got Michaela that when she died, I would not ever have another dog that sheds like she did.  I told people that she shed 3 dogs a day and that wasn't far from the truth. I have all laminate flooring and I can sweep morning and night and still have several dust pans of dog hair.  When I told my vet that grooming her didn't help with all the hair falling out, he told me to quit grooming her so much as that encouraged more hair to fall out.  I tried that too.  It didn't help. I went back to grooming her because it made me feel like I was trying.

Anyway, Michaela, at three years old was such an awesome mother to Elsie when I got Elsie at 8 weeks old. Michaela taught her tug of war and boundaries and manners even though by 6 months, Elsie towered over Michaela. She was good-natured about having a buddy. Michaela quickly learned how to run across the yard, twist sideways and run through the field fence hole, and race Elsie.  

This became a game for them.  The entire time they were racing the perimeter of the yard, they were barking, with Elsie on the inside perimeter of the yard and Michaela on the outside perimeter.  In fact, the barking was so intense that one day my neighbor drove over to see what all the barking was about. He couldn't believe it that it was their game.  He watched for 5-10 minutes while we chatted and said he had never seen such a thing.  Truth be known, neither had I.

Michaela was almost 11 when I got Max.  She taught him to race as well. She also taught him how to greet me when I came up the driveway, which was a bit of a concern for me since it involved Max climbing the fence to be on the same side of the fence as Michaela to do so. She was like a mother to him, cleaning his face and his upright ears. 

With Elsie around to wrestle with Max and Michaela to teach him other things, Max got a great education in his first year.  He also completed 8 weeks of basic obedience training. Then Michaela died the month after Max turned 1. It broke my heart as she was the life of the party.  Always smiling and always glad to see me. She loved tummy rubs and I obliged and informed anyone that she rolled over in front of that she only wanted her tummy rubbed. I was her mommy from the time she was 5 weeks old until she passed. 

I know that someday, Elsie and Max will also pass from my life. Dogs live such short lives compared to ours but they bring us such great joy if we but only let them. I know I have learned from most of the dogs that have been in my life over the years, but I truly believe that my Corgi, Michaela was the closest I've ever had to a mini-me than any other dog I've ever owned.  Thick body, short legs, attention getting gleaming eyes, and always willing to help. Michaela was special, sorely missed, and will not be forgotten.

Alabama Storms

 On Good Friday, I loaded up my Giant Schnauzer and the two of us headed south to Alabama where my brother lives.  It is a 6-hour drive in the best traffic minus potty stops for the dog. Because I work from home, I can pack up my computer and go somewhere else to work.  This makes visiting with family much easier.

Elsie and I arrived safely with little trouble and enjoyed the afternoon and evening getting caught up on their lives.  Then last night, a thunderstorm occurred.  WOW! I am used to the Indiana thunderstorms, not the Alabama ones that light up the sky nonstop with lightning that is like someone using an old Kodak camera with a flash on it.  It was not the kind of storm one sleeps through, which I often do in Indiana.  The storm reminded me of a storm I witnessed once in Florida. We were driving A1A highway along the ocean when a storm came up and the waves leaped up over the end of a pier and escaped the beach and traveled towards the road.  The lightning was intense, and the thunder vibrated the windows of the car while the wind buffeted and shook the car.  That storm has left an imprint in my mind of the ferocity of the ocean when it is angry.  

Today the sky is overcast and the winds are slight.  But it sure beats a nighttime storm I got to experience first-hand in Alabama.

BEING GLUTEN-FREE DOESN'T ALWAYS MEAN SOMEONE HAS CELIAC'S DISEASE

Periodically, five years ago, I began waking up with severe dizziness and nausea. To even bat an eye made the nausea worse.  I had to lay extremely still with my eyes shut and barely breathe to keep from being sick all over again.  After the first episode, I put my friend, Joyce, on speed dial in my cell as each episode resulted in a trip to the E.R. for treatment.  Joyce would hold me up with one arm while keeping my small wastebasket beneath my head as the movement made me violently ill.  I was so sick that at one point, I quit breathing.  It was easier not to breathe than to be so very sick.  I was in a beautiful place ascending into a very bright light, when I heard, "Mrs. Phillips! You have to breathe!" I did not feel the slap, but Joyce was there and said they slapped me very hard because they were not getting a response from me. 

As the episodes and trips to the emergency room became more frequent, I became more worried about falling asleep as it seemed each episode came while I was sleeping.  Then the summer of 2018, I got to spend a week with some friends, Ray and Sandra, in Salt Lake City.  Their son and daughter-in-law are like my own kids.  Sandra asked me one day to share the symptoms I experienced when I got sick.  I told her of the extreme dizziness and nausea and how just batting an eye would make me even sicker.  

Sandra then shared that she went through pretty much the same thing and after much testing, her doctors determined she was allergic to wheat.  She then said, "Why don't you try giving up wheat for a week or two?  What do you have to lose?"

I thought about it but didn't commit that day to becoming wheat free, but avoided wheat anyway.  Once I returned home to Indiana, I also returned to eating the same foods and within less than two weeks got to go to the E.R. At that point, I scrutinized the last few weeks of my life and what I was eating and not eating.  Yep, I had eaten wheat the day I got sick.  I had not eaten anything breaded or a sandwich until that day.  So I kicked the wheat habit.  

I am now very careful about the ingredients in my food.  I prefer not to get sick again. I have noticed that when I eat dark chocolate salted caramels from a certain store, I get beautiful holographic rainbows in front of my eyes. After some research, I found out this is called an optical migraine. The episodes with violet nausea, dizziness, and sensitivity to light are silent migraines. I found this on my medical chart. Why didn't they tell me so that I wouldn't think I was going crazy?

At any rate, wheat is absent from my diet for the past 4 years, unless by accident I ingest some when eating out.  I always know because I get nauseated and dizzy. Staying away from wheat is the best option for me as I stay healthy and don't make trips to the E.R. 

If you experience what I have experienced, take a look at what you are eating and weed out the offensive food.  It works for me and I am very thankful to Sandra for her input and guiding me in the right direction.  My doctor was not very helpful.

 Do you ever get tired of getting up every morning and driving to work then at the end of the workday turning around and driving back home? About 18 months ago, I was tired of the whole shebang and called my baby sister, Leanna, to share with her the emotions I was going through.  She is 19 years younger than I am. 

Leanna listened calmly and then said, "How would you like to work from home?" 

"How is that possible?" I replied.

She then asked for my email address, my phone number, and a couple other pieces of information and told me I would get an email and to respond to it.  Yeah, sure.  Right?

Well, sure enough, I did get an email and it had an application to apply to a company that has a large work-base of work-at-home (known as WAH jobs) employees. I filled out the application and a few days later went through a group interview. Then I received an offer of employment in my email a day or two later.  Once I accepted the offer, I had to pass some security humps and gained employment..

It has been an interesting 18 months with this company. I learn something new every day I work. They hire by referrals and without my sister knowing about them, I would not be working from home.  I enjoy working from home as I don't have to dress any special way for the office nor do I have to figure in travel time as part of my workday.  I also get 30 minutes to eat lunch at home and don't have the added expense of eating with the workgroup and spending $10 for lunch every day.  In reality, with the current cost of fuel for the car, I am probably making $1-$2 more an hour than I am being paid since I live rurally.

One of the biggest advantages of working at home is being here with my dogs. Elsie, the Giant with immune-mediated polyarthritis, now gets her pills on a regular schedule. Michaela, the Corgi, Elsie, and Max, the 9-month-old German Shepherd pup all know my schedule and take advantage of breaks and lunch to be let in and out.  They know exactly what time I get off work, and are ready to eat as soon as I log off the computer and take the headset off.  

Life is good now that I am home surrounded by the pets that love me! They give me so much love. I am happy that I decided to work from home and reached out to my sister.  Life is very good!