Legacies and Regrets

          Have you ever wondered what people will say about you at your funeral? Obviously, most funeral eulogies are complimentary and tell of good things, sweet memories and such that greeting cards are made of. But if everyone spoke the TRUTH about you, what would they say?
          Are you living your life to be a blessing, to make an impact for good and not evil or bad, to leave an honorable legacy for those you love? If not, you should. If only one person can say My life is better because of Leola (or John, Mary, Henry, Sharon, etc), then you have done well.
          What must it be like to live a life with no regrets? I’ve heard that said – I want to live and die with no regrets – I’ve even said that….on many occasions. The older I get, the more I realize that this is an impossible notion. The average person will always have regrets – the words spoken or unspoken, that broken relationship, the unfulfilled dream, and the list could go on and on.
          The older I get, the more the thought of dying invades my thoughts. Sometimes it is a niggling, persistent bother, sometimes it’s like a foreboding of impending disaster, or sometimes it’s like a pleasant journey I will embark on.
           As a Christian, I have confidence that heaven is my destiny, and that thought fills me with wonder and joy. I’m just not ready to make that journey.

Praying For Our Family

         When my children were younger and my life (mostly my marriage) was so messed up, I spent a great amount of time in prayer.  You know that saying, “You’ll never know Jesus is all you need until Jesus is all you have.”  I didn’t coin that phrase, but I should have, because there were many, many, many dark days when it was only my faith that kept me going.
         In my prayer time, I would cry out to God to HELP me, to help us. God has always been so real to me, such an integral part of my life and it is this relationship that I wanted my children to have. My plea to God was, “I just want my kids to know You, to love You and serve You, to be used by You, God. Please, please God, that’s all I want you to do for my kids.”
         God not only heard that prayer of mine - young, frazzled, broken and bruised young mother that I was -  He answered those prayers. Today my five grown, adult children all know the Lord and three daughters are married to credentialed ministers, and actively involved in ministry.
         Now I have over twenty grandchildren and seven great-grandchildren. Several months ago, I asked God in prayer about my grandchildren. “What about my grandchildren, God? I want grandchildren to feel called into ministry.”  And the same God that heard and answered those long ago prayers, heard my cry.
         Two nights ago I got to hear my grandson, Nathanael, preach. He feels called into the ministry. My heart is proud, and humbled. Thank you, Jesus! My granddaughter, Vanessa, feels called to work in youth ministry and has been doing that for some time now. Thank you, Jesus! As time progresses, my heart and soul are expectant of others to feel that call. The greatest gift I can give You, Lord, is my life and the lives of those who are on earth as direct result of me, from the lineage I begot.
          As you pray for your loved ones, I have this encouragement: GOD IS FAITHFUL! You may not see the results of your prayers right away, but be assured, God is at work!

Resenting Mom

         My mother will turn 86 this December. She is in a care facility, and unfortunately, I am her only consistent weekly visitor.  I love Jesus, my family, my country, my friends and even strangers. I consider myself a kind, compassionate person. So…why do I resent my mother? Why do I resent it every time (well, not EVERY time) that I’m heading over for my weekly visit with her?
        I ponder this perplexity frequently. She wasn’t a mean or neglectful mother. I can’t say I was ever close with her as some mother-daughter relationships are close. She was closer to my sister who is nine years younger than me. I have three brothers, the two younger passed from this earth when they were adults, and it seemed Mom was always closer to the three younger siblings, especially my sister. That could be because my brother and I left home when we were very young. I married at sixteen and he went into the Army at seventeen.
        Visiting Mom is an emotional drain for me. She cries, she begs me to take her home with me, nothing about the care facility makes her happy and somehow she makes me feel guilty about this, and the fact that my brother and sister seldom visit her.  My sister has valid reasons for infrequent visits, but my brother does not.  His simple explanation is that it hurts him to see Mom like that.
        In my ponderings, I’ve acknowledged certain things, like how both my sister and older brother have gotten monetary blessings from my mom while I got nothing, how whenever I tried to tell Mom on numerous occasions that Jim, her third husband (both my dad and her second husband died), was only after her money and would leave her once the money was gone, she would hang up on me and accuse me of not caring or wanting her to be happy. (he did dump her once he’d drained and run through all her money and assets) Or the time she called to tell me she had sold the small piece of land that was my inheritance in her will because Jim wanted her too, and I started crying and telling her that she cared more about Jim than her own children, she hung up on me. Or all those times she did whatever Jim asked her to regardless of what we kids said or warned her about and she blew us off.
        I’m not a greedy person, so why do these things bother me so much? I need to move on, and not let it bother me when Mom whines about how her “people,” her family don’t come around, and I want to scream, “You didn’t care about any of us when you were with Jim!”

Sometimes I feel so petty and small!

Death of a Son

Last week my husband and I stayed at a lovely cabin in the mountains past the city of Prescott, AZ. We live in hot Phoenix. The weather in Phoenix is warm, hot , hotter and hell-fire hot, so a week in the cooler climate of the mountains is so refreshing for us. Did I say my husband has to paint while we’re there? He’s a painter and our friends hire him every year to treat (paint) the log cabin structure.

But my post is not about this beautiful, luxurious 2500 sq ft cabin, it’s about our friends that own the cabin. I won’t use their real names, so I’ll call them Mike and Martha. Mike and Martha aren’t extremely wealthy but they are fairly well off. They own about 15 or so popular fast-food chains. Besides the cabin, they own a beautiful home, and truly have no financial worries. God has blessed them because they are such generous, caring people. They are involved in feeding the homeless every week as well as other philanthropist endeavors. They are also good Christians.

They have three grown sons and several grandchildren. A few weeks ago their oldest son was shot and killed by his wife. She was arrested for 1^st degree murder. There has been widespread media coverage not only because of the crime involved but because his parents, our friends, own those fast-food chains and are considered philanthropists.

Throughout this horrendous ordeal, their faith in God has not been shaken. Many other Christians, family and friends have gone to minister to them and encourage them, yet they leave encouraged. One of Mike’s favorite sayings is “Are you fired up?”  (meaning: are you fired up for Jesus).

Mike and Martha have retreated to their mountain cabin more often than they normally do just to escape the media probing. Our week at the cabin had been set up before the tragedy happened, and when my husband offered to postpone it, they insisted we go. Not only that, they checked in frequently to make sure we were enjoying our stay and to ask if there was anything they could do for us.

I am so humbled by them. They exemplify faith and trust in our sovereign God. Mike and Martha, you’re my heroes.

To Unfriend or Not Unfriend

Have you ever had to, or felt you needed to, unfriend someone on facebook?  I did that this week, and have been feeling sad and remorseful about it since then. I've never unfriended anyone before. I have unsubscribed to someone's (in fact several) posts because of the language they use or the content that is unwholesome.  I don’t want to unfriend them because I pray that my posts will touch them, and be a testimony to the faithfulness of God.

People who know me know that I am a Christian and as such, I am a conservative. The girl I unfriended is dating one of my sons, and she’s extremely liberal and is either an atheist or agnostic. (I’m not sure she knows what she is.)  That’s perfectly fine with me, but recently when I hit “share” on facebook about a conservative article, she attacked me in her comments. The first time my only response was “I can post what I want.”  Her response was something about me posting bald-faced lies. (It was an article from Fox News about the Navy Seal who wrote the book about Bin Ladin’s death.)

So, I just to let it go. But it did make me hesitant about sharing a post about anything else conservative. However when I shared about Ann Romney’s speech at the RNC, this girl attacked me again in her comments. My response “B****y, I ignore your posts. Please extend me the same courtesy.”  She jumped all over that.  My husband said to unfriend her and I did.

I am 64 years old! Seriously, what makes a young 20 something assume she can get in my face in a militant attitude and I’m going to change my beliefs for her? It was disrespectful, to say the least. Not only that, I’ll not be bullied about sharing my views.

Do schools and parents not teach respect for your elders? I try to treat others with kindness and courtesy. I expect to be treated the same. I am not a militant posting about my religious or political views. But on the occasion that I do, I shouldn’t be attacked.

**did not disclose girl's full name

Political Differences

We’ve always been told that there are two topics to avoid with strangers and, as most may know, with family and friends:  Religion and politics.

I recently shared a link on facebook of a report from Fox News regarding Navy Seals. Since I have a grandson in the Navy who spends months at time in a submarine away from his wife and baby, I am a softie about anything military. Immediately my stepson’s girlfriend, who is very liberal, commented on this post blasting Fox News as liars.

I read her comment on my little phone screen while I was in the line at the post office, and my first reaction was WHAT? She was accusing me of posting lies. So my response was “I can post what I want.” And she again said it was all lies, and proceeded to attack me. Obviously, this "new" girlfriend didn't care about getting brownie points with me.

I decided to bite my tongue and take the high road. Still it bothered me for several days. We’re all entitled to our own political and religious views. Because those views differ from someone else, that doesn’t make us right.

Funny how those who scream the loudest: Intolerant, Bigot, Prejudice, don’t realize that by their very actions, they are guilty of those things. Because I differ from someone else doesn’t make me right or wrong.

Let’s choose to agree that we disagree. Don’t let hatred ooze from your pores this election season (or any other time).  Choose to be a person of character!

Sleepless With Puppy

         Having a puppy is like having a newborn baby in the house. Yep, we got our lab mix, Ashley, when she was 8 weeks old (2 weeks ago) from PetMarts Charities Adoption event at the Arizona State Fairgrounds. Ashley yips and whines off and on all night, and when I’m downstairs, she wants my constant attention. If I’m upstairs, she stands at the foot of the stairs and yips and whines.
         Right now our world is consumed with Ashley and her needs. And here I thought I was finished with the baby thing! Not so, Ashley would definitely say. Alas, she’s cute and adorable and loveable, but some nights that will only get her so far with me. I NEED MY SLEEP!
          And little Ashley is a hoarder. She takes whatever she can and drags it onto the sofa in the living room. Don’t ask how many times we’ve put everything away only to have her start her piles again. Well, okay, you can ask. Every day! She loves the toy box that I keep in the family room for all the little grandchildren and great-grandchildren that come over. And of course, she loves shoes. My husband shoes! I keep all of mine upstairs (hint, hint,Jeff!).
         It’s evening as I type, so I’m gearing myself up for another night of broken sleep.

Did You See?

Did you see her today, as she walked your way?

Head down, shuffling feet, trying not to be seen

Not saying a word, although longing to be heard

Misery, apathy, begging, praying to be set free

 
                                           From the prison she’s in, looking out from within

Frightened, afraid to live, but more afraid to die

Crushed, bruised, battered, youthful dreams shattered

Prince Charming, happily ever after, to her all a lie

                                            It’s your fault says he, she knows that can’t be

He belittles, abuses, ‘til she assumes his disgrace

Outlook hopeless and grim, terrified of him

What to do? Should she tell? Where to go to be safe?

                                                No family or friends, took time to see within

Beyond the smile, see her pain and suffering

The neighbors next door, choosing to ignore

The screams, the bruises, the endless fighting

                                              Did you hear her today, what she had to say?

Timidly speaking, daring to trust and confide

What was she told? “You just have to be bold!

Stand your ground, don’t back down, don’t hide!”

                                            Did you see her today, as she walked your way?

In the door, up the aisle, and right past your pew

This her very last hope, no longer able to cope

Did you notice? Feel her pain? What did you do?

 
                                           Did you see her today, as she was carried away?

Beaten, lying on a gurney, covered with a sheet

“I love you,” Jesus said, as she took her last breath

No more pain, suffering – in death set free

                                                  Do I see them walk by, hearing their cry?

The lost, broken-hearted, battered, abused

God, please help me see, those in front of me

Share Your heart, Your love, so they may see You.

                                         For you see, she was me, I was she, though set free

For I didn’t die, no not I, I survived, I’m alive!

                                                                   Thank you, Jesus!

By Leola Ogle-please do not use without permission.  If you are in abusive situation, or know someone that is, please seek help, or offer help.

Our Tragedy in the News

      Tragedy, crisis, and hardships are inevitable in this life. There is no status we can achieve that makes us immune. It happens to the rich and poor, beautiful and not so beautiful, skinny and fat, healthy and sick – well, you get the idea. I’ve had my share in life, but my miseries and misfortune have been private. Oh, family and friends knew, of course, but it never made the evening news, and was never in newspapers.
      Some dear friends of ours just this week had a tragedy happen that is all over the news. And not just one day, but continuing every day since it happened four days ago. The circumstance is difficult enough but to deal with additional stress of media coverage is something I hope never happens to me.
     These are good people-faithful church-goers who love and serve God wholeheartedly, pillars of the community who are involved in feeding the homeless and other outreaches. What happened to their son (adult son) is devastating enough, but to have personals aspects of one’s life displayed for the world to see makes the tragedy all the more difficult to deal with.
     Their son’s wife shot him in the head. He is dead! The news says there is a history of alcohol, drugs and violence in the home. Whether that is true or not is just speculation to me at this point.

All that matters to my friends is that their son is gone!

Business Owner?

“Blessed are you when people hate you and when they exclude you and revile you and spurn your name as evil, on account of the Son of Man.” Luke 6:22 ESV
    As Christians we are told to love the sinner but hate the sin. But nowadays we are being told (by society, the media, and Hollywood and even politics) to love the sinner and love the SIN. A prime example is this whole thing with Chick-Fil-A.
   Any business owner in today’s society knows that if you take a stand against certain groups or lifestyles, you will be hated, ridiculed, slandered and injured in some way. To take a stand for morals and righteousness is definitely unpopular and going to cost you something.

   I don’t hate anyone or any group of peoples. I do dislike certain things. I consider myself a nice person, a good person. It seems the very ones that scream bigot, prejudice, close-minded at Christians are, by the very nature of their attacks, guilty of what they accuse others of.
   My husband is a small business owner (painting/construction). If someone asks him if he supports a woman’s right to be a cougar (older woman with younger man) and he says yes, does that mean that all those who hate cougars or don’t support a woman’s right to be a cougar, can turn a whole city against my husband and won’t allow his business in that city?

Ridiculous!

Mimi's Birthday!

Birthdays always make me reflect. Today I turn 64. It even sounds old to my ears. I hate getting older! My body betrays me in ways that boggle my mind.

I ask myself: What have I done with sixty four years? What have I accomplished? What legacy am I leaving? What will be said of me at my funeral?

Am I alone or do others ask themselves these questions?  My husband would say that I’ve accomplished at lot through the children I’ve produced. I have five children, four daughters and a son. I also have two stepsons and a stepdaughter. Between my husband and I, we have 27 grandchildren and step-grandchildren. I have eight great-grandchildren. My quiver is definitely full.

I want my life to count for something. I want to have made a difference in my small sphere of influence. I want to live my life so that when someone speaks evil of me, no one will believe it.  I want to be a good person, truly good, and not just that my actions and deeds are good. Anyone can say and do lofty, noble, righteous, kind and good things.

But God looks at the heart! He knows our motive and intent in everything we do.  1Samuel 16:7 NIV says  “….The Lord does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance but the Lord looks at the heart.”  I want my heart to be pleasing to God, not what people perceive me to be.

Psalm 139:3 NIV says “Search me, God, and know my heart ; test me and my anxious thoughts.”

To Be Beautiful!

Some would say it was as hot as Hades the day she was born. She would be the second of five children born to poor, uneducated parents. She was a sensitive, shy girl, but happy. Time progressed and she grew.

 She loved school, and excelled in sports and academics. She had lots of friends, and was always a favorite with teachers.  She was in 1^st grade when a boy laughed as he called her freckle-face and buck-teeth. She studied herself in the mirror at home, his words wounding like sharp needles piercing her heart.

 She wished she was beautiful!

Her parents were good, simple people. They were sporadic church goers, both having been raised in what they considered a harsh, legalistic religion. She always loved church, desiring to please the God whose presence she always sensed. Sometimes she would play church in her front yard, preaching and singing to a make-believe congregation.

She wanted to be school teacher or a missionary when she grew up. She also wanted to be a writer; she started several novels while in grade school. The demands of her life would be so that writing would always be an unfulfilled passion.

She graduated 8^th grade with honors. The door closed on this season of her life.

She was a freshman in high school when she had a real experience with God at an old-fashioned altar in a little church. It was a defining moment in her life, an encounter that became the pivotal point for all other things. This love relationship between her and her creator would endure through all the seasons of her journey.  

She had many friends at high school, but was never the pretty, popular girl. That was okay, she didn’t mind. She sometimes wished she was beautiful!

 All too soon, the door closed on this season of her life.

 While still in high school she foolishly married a boy she met at church. It would be a harsh, abusive marriage. However, it produced five wonderful children. Sometimes God and those children seemed all she had.  But it was enough!

 This season of her life would be full of joy, adventure, but mostly heartbreaking turbulence. She remained faithful to God, connected and involved in church, praying continually for her children.

She knew she wasn’t ugly, but she wasn’t beautiful. She often wondered if she were beautiful, would her husband do the things he did. As she matured, she understood that it was his own demons he battled. He left when the two youngest were teenagers. She was torn between relief and fear of the unknown. The door closed on this season of her life.

Married at 16, divorced after 22 years, being thrust into single life was a culture shock for her. Free from the debilitating confines of her bad marriage, she floundered in a sea of uncharted courses. Although it was a bad marriage, it was familiar territory, one she knew how to navigate through.  

Some things hadn’t changed - the young, beautiful women in her Singles’ Group attracted the men. It didn’t matter to her that she was neither young nor beautiful. She was comfortable with who she was. However, she did long for a godly marriage, a Christian husband, something she’d never had.

God gave her the desire of her heart. It was a gift from God to her battered spirit.  This husband told her every day that she was beautiful. She knew that wasn’t true, but it was nice to be told so. Her family grew and thrived. She became a grandmother, then a great grandmother. 

Now she sat at a retirement luncheon in her honor. She had worked for twenty years in a home missions’ ministry that she dearly loved, a fulfillment of that long ago desire to do missions work. She felt humbled and undeserving of all the accolades. They spoke of her faithfulness, kindness, and inner beauty. She knew her life was a testament of God’s mercy and grace.

She couldn’t remember when she came to realize that she had always been beautiful. Her heavenly Father assured her that she was - 1 Peter 3:4 “Rather, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight.”  (NIV)

The door was closing on this season of her life. She felt at peace! Her seasons of life weren’t over, though. Perhaps now she could pursue her passion to write.

Sundays Should Start With Church

I love Sundays! What's not to love about a day that starts with church! I am so blessed, and yes, a little proud, that my church of attendance has my son-in-law, Todd, as the pastor. It also has my grandson, Nathanael, leading in worship with his guitar and another grandson, Samuel, playing the drums. God has been so good to me, but that's a story for another time.

Everyone comes to my house for lunch after church. I usually cook all day Saturday in preparation for this. It is an open invitation to any family members and friends of family.

I love Sundays! Have I said that already? It is a day filled with good food, even though I prepare it, and adult discussions, and plenty of little kids running and squealing. The teenagers do...well, whatever teenagers do. This usually includes a techie toy/device of some kind.

I'm sure this isn't some folks idea of the way to spend a Sunday. As for me, I wouldn't change a thing about it.