Unconscious Mutterings

"Unconscious Mutterings Link"

"Rules are, there are no rules." There are no right or wrong answers. Don't limit yourself to one word responses; just say everything that pops into your head. AND you don't have to have your words up on Sunday. Take all week if you want!


Sunday, September 23, 2012 Week 504 - 4 days ago

I say ... and you think ... ?

1. Familiar :: Same-o, Same-o.
2. Style :: Dress up dresses.
3. More than :: I can handle...
4. Glistening :: Sunset on the oceans horizon
5. Obstruction :: Ack! Somethings in MY EYE!
6. Orifice :: A cyclops gaping mouth
7. Hugely :: A big success.
8. Tempest :: Unruly ocean or an angry redhead!
9. Sauce :: I say toe-may-toe, you say toe-ma-toe.
10. Herbs :: AND spices!

Now it's YOUR turn! Do in a comment here, or post on facebook.♥

Photo of Diane Aldrich

I just HAD to post this someplace besides facebook!
I think the colors are stunning!

Recycling, the old fashioned kind.

Checking out at the store, the young cashier suggested to the older woman, that she should bring her own grocery bags because plastic bags weren't good for the environment.

The woman apologized and explained, "We didn't have this green thing back in my earlier days." The young clerk responded, "That's our problem today. Your generation did not care enough to save our environment for future generations."

She was right, our generation didn't have the green thing in its day. Back then, we returned milk bottles, soda bottles and beer bottles to the store. The store sent them back to the plant to be washed and sterilized and refilled, so it could use the same bottles over and over. So they really were recycled.

But we didn't have the green thing back in our day.

Grocery stores bagged our groceries in brown paper bags, that we reused for numerous things, most memorable besides household garbage bags, was the use of brown paper bags as book covers for our schoolbooks. This was to ensure that public property, (the books provided for our use by the school) was not defaced by our scribblings. Then we were able to personalize our books on the brown paper bags.

But too bad we didn't do the green thing back then.

We walked up stairs, because we didn't have an escalator in every store and office building. We walked to the grocery store and didn't climb into a 300-horsepower machine every time we had to go two blocks.

But she was right. We didn't have the green thing in our day.

Back then, we washed the baby's diapers because we didn't have the throwaway kind. We dried clothes on a line, not in an energy-gobbling machine burning up 220 volts -- wind and solar power really did dry our clothes back in our early days. Kids got hand-me-down clothes from their brothers or sisters, not always brand-new clothing.

But that young lady is right; we didn't have the green thing back in our day.

Back then, we had one TV, or radio, in the house -- not a TV in every room. And the TV had a small screen the size of a handkerchief (remember them?), not a screen the size of the state of Montana. In the kitchen, we blended and stirred by hand because we didn't have electric machines to do everything for us. When we packaged a fragile item to send in the mail, we used wadded up old newspapers to cushion it, not Styrofoam or plastic bubble wrap. Back then, we didn't fire up an engine and burn gasoline just to cut the lawn. We used a push mower that ran on human power. We exercised by working so we didn't need to go to a health club to run on treadmills that operate on electricity.

But she's right; we didn't have the green thing back then.

We drank from a fountain when we were thirsty instead of using a cup or a plastic bottle every time we had a drink of water. We refilled writing pens with ink instead of buying a new pen, and we replaced the razor blades in a razor instead of throwing away the whole razor just because the blade got dull.

But we didn't have the green thing back then.

Back then, people took the streetcar or a bus and kids rode their bikes to school or walked instead of turning their moms into a 24-hour taxi service. We had one electrical outlet in a room, not an entire bank of sockets to power a dozen appliances. And we didn't need a computerized gadget to receive a signal beamed from satellites 23,000 miles out in space in order to find the nearest burger joint.

But isn't it sad the current generation laments how wasteful we old folks were just because we didn't have the green thing back then?

Please forward this on to another selfish old person who needs a lesson in conservation from a smart a** young person ...

A Mother's Hands

"Three things will last forever—faith, hope, and love—and the greatest of these is love." 1 Corinthians 13:13 (NLT)

She held out the soft white blanket scalloped in pink ribbon. "I'm not sure I want to give it to her," my mom said. The stitches were a bit looser than my mother's past handiwork, but I could see love in every crocheted inch.

I held her hands in my own. Her once slender fingers were bent and swollen at the joints. I imagined her holding the crochet needles and weaving the yarn in and out for hours and days, until the blanket was complete. It is an heirloom for her first great-grandchild, one created with pain and love.

I think I take my mother's hands for granted. They have caressed my cheek. They have made me wear a coat (even when I protested that I was a mother of three grown children). They have dialed the cell phone she loves, and hates, so she could talk to "her Suzie." Her hands have penned cards that showed up in my mailbox saying "I love you."

An old 70s song says, "Time keeps on slipping, slipping, into the future." There is truth in those lyrics. I see the passage of time in my mother's hands. I also see it as moments pass into hours and then into days in a whirl.

Life is always busy, like this month when the white board on the refrigerator lists church events, dentist visits, showers and weddings and graduations, as well as other details like pay the bills, mow the lawn, clean the house.

Recently I realized that my mother was moving further down on that list. A week passed. A month flew by. The phone calls came. "Hey, Suz, just calling to say I miss you."

One day I received an email from a friend. Her mom was sick. For the next few weeks I prayed, reading every update. One night I read the email from my beautiful friend that expressed her love for her ailing mom, and prayer for strength to say goodbye.

Suddenly it hit me how little time I actually devoted to my mother. I held the email and wept. The next day I made a date with my mom. She was like a girl; she laughed on the phone as we made plans.

My mom and I had the best time at lunch and I was inspired to make a point to love on her more frequently. So I came up with "Love Points" which include a few things I try to do each week.

Write. Leave a note in an unexpected place.

Give. Spend time with no strings attached (help work in the garden, go to lunch, sit and chat).

Touch. Especially if your loved one is older or widowed and they are not touched in positive ways any more. (Massage their hands. Hold their hand. Touch their face or hair.)

Affirm. Tell them one encouraging thing that you believe about them.

I pray I stay committed to showing my mom love. And that I have many more opportunities to hang out with her. But more than that I pray I don't take her for granted.

Life most likely won't slow down. But as I devote time to worthwhile endeavors, I don't want to forget that in the grand scheme of things, holding my mother's hands is one of the most priceless investments I'll ever make.

Dear Lord, thank You for my loved ones. Life gets so hectic, and sometimes it's hard to slow down long enough to show them how much I care. Please help me to slow down and recognize what is of little value so that I can invest in people with immense value. In Jesus' Name, Amen.


I copied the above from the author in the link in the title. It just made me think of how I miss my Mom. There's so many things I would like to have told her. She did her best, for what she knew how to. I miss her singing, such a beautiful voice and her laugh! That loud crazy laugh! Six more days will mark her being gone 13-yrs... then, on the 27th, my Dad's passing 22-yrs ago. Sometimes my heart just aches for them ...

☆ ⊱♡⊰ ☆ ⊱♡⊰ ☆ ⊱♡⊰ ☆ ⊱♡⊰ ☆ ⊱♡⊰ ☆ ⊱♡⊰ ☆ ⊱♡⊰ ☆ ⊱♡⊰ ☆

When Your Mess Turns Into Your Message

"Heal me, O Lord, and I will be healed; save me and I will be saved, for you are the one I praise." Jeremiah 17:14 (NIV)

My brother is a recovered addict. For twenty years, he was absent from our family due to addiction issues. Countless times we thought he was dead, and according to statistics, he should have been.

However, God happens to be in the restoration business. He is willing to restore and heal all who come to Him. It doesn't matter who you are, what you've done, or what has been done to you. God is willing and able to turn any tragedy into triumph. My brother is living proof.

After entering many programs with hopes of success and end results of failure, my brother finally found the answer: Jesus. It wasn't until my brother met the Lord that healing and true change occurred. Suddenly, all things became new.

What's most exciting is anyone can experience this kind of freedom!

The truth is, we don't have the strength, will power, or ability to free ourselves from bondage no matter what the bondage is—drugs, lust, gluttony, pride, anger, or fear. Until we renounce our sickness and surrender to Christ, we will never experience freedom. On the other hand, when we are willing to give King Jesus our mess, He turns it into our message.

Not a day goes by that my brother doesn't look for opportunities to brag on God and share His message of hope.

Take a few summers ago, for example. One evening, our families gathered for dinner at Red Lobster. His treat! Twenty-six year old Tiffany was our server. Right away, we noticed two things about Tiffany. She was a natural with people, and she was very pregnant. While we enjoyed her kind service, we had no idea that God would turn the tables and call us to serve her in a unique way.

It started when my sister refused to allow my brother to buy her dinner. While my sister loves to give to others, she's not so good on the receiving end. I, on the other hand, understood that it gave my brother great pleasure to pick up the check. The Lord knows I didn't want to deny him his blessing!

Poor Tiffany found herself caught in the middle of the argument. Eager to win, my brother said to our server, "You see, I was a drug addict for years. During that time, my sisters did a lot for me. Now, I just want to bless them as they have blessed me."

Tiffany's eyes widen. "You were a drug addict?" she inquired. "I would have never guessed."

"Yes. I was," my brother replied. "But Jesus changed all that." From there he told Tiffany his life-changing story.

"I went from being lost to being found; from being homeless to being a homeowner; from being an employee to owning my own business; from being bound by drugs to being set free in Christ."

Tears filled Tiffany's eyes as we shared God's love with her. That's not all. Later that week, we confirmed God's love to her by presenting her with a baby gift.

Oh, friends, when you and I—like my brother—allow God to turn our mess into our message, He not only changes our lives, but He changes the lives of others too.

Dear Lord, Your mercy astounds me. Your goodness overwhelms me as I cry out "heal me, O Lord, and I shall be healed; save me and I will be saved." God, give me opportunities to speak of Your hope so that others may know Your goodness and salvation. In Jesus' Name, Amen.

♥