If your feet are wet this morning, be grateful for cold toes and soggy socks.

Did you step in a puddle this morning and get your shoes and socks wet? Well, isn't that wonderful? Remember last summer? Docks dried up with boats sitting on top of dirt that hasn't been dry in years. Fields of burned corn tassels leaving farmers without grain or money. Yards turned brown and mowers left with full tanks of gas from no use. As I watched our two teenagers dash for the car this morning, I said a thank you to God. As I remembered the warm sunshine of Destin from last week and looked at our tanned skin....I said thank you God it is raining in Tennessee today. In all honesty, I haven't prayed for rain lately. In fact, it hasn't even been on my mind. Now, last summer I can promise you I prayed daily, hourly. Why? Because it was an instant, desperate need for our land and people. Isn't that how we are? Sorry. Isn't that how I am? I will pray for the immediate relief stuff and when it doesn't happen I move on to something else, but thank goodness God holds the future and doesn't forget. The ground soaking, sky dancing lighting, storms of hail, tree uprooting miracles, are proof that today I need not fret or worry. The God of the universe that can scorch the earth and flood it as well and no matter what I may face today, when I see a puddle of water, I need to just relax. If my hair gets wet...I will feel refreshed. If my shoes are soaked...then my steps are blessed. If my teenagers are sitting in class with wet feet..then I know my God is with them. Are you looking for proof today? Are you looking for truth today? Are you looking for hope today? Then go stand in a puddle and get your feet wet.

Suntans, antifreeze, transmissions, AAA, towtrucks, T-shirts, car trouble, road crisis, miracles on the road

OK. So where exactly do I start with this particular blog? We had a great week at the beach as far as the weather went. One cool day. The others were perfect. We had a lovely brand new New York decorated condo, but it wasn't our Tops'l. My in laws had it totally redone and it wasn't ready when our spring break rolled around. I missed our beach guys who took care of our umbrellas. We have known them for 10 years or so. I missed the pavilion, where there are endless fruit slushy drinks that our kids love and wonderful chicken fingers with seasoned fries so we never even had to go back to our condo to eat. I missed the atmosphere of spring break excitement at the many pools, hot tubs and beach. I missed the familiar hum of the building as we parked our car in the garage and made our way to the room. I missed the local areas that I have grown accustomed to over the last 23 years. My favorite shopping places, grocery store, swimsuit places. I missed the long drive after entering through the gates. It was always a slow, soothing ride to the paradise along the beach. Enough about all that. After we had eaten way too much wonderful food, had great tans, bought T-shirts from our favorite places, we began the trip home. My son's car began overheating in Andalusia, Alabama. About 330 miles away from our home destination. AAA came after 1 1/2 hours of waiting and towed it home to the tune of 1011.00 dollars. We all piled the extra people into my car. My husband and son. The car in tow was simply a moving closet as it was packed to the top. As my Volvo was on it's merry way to the blessed Tennessee grounds, my transmission began slipping. Somehow, by the complete grace of God it made it to the next exit where I once again called AAA to come get my car and Enterprise car rentals to come pick us up. AMAZING. I start to feel my strong mother constitution melting away dripping unto the Shell gas station sidewalk. My voice is starting to quiver and my knees feel weak. After making all the physical arrangements over the phone, I decided to call my sister for comfort. Since, my parents are both dead, I usually call her. Who ever said once you hit 40, you don't need help, is, well, DUMB. Anyway, she hears my voice and realizes I am the sinking Titanic. Her words of comfort.....is anybody hurt, in a wreck, or sick? I respond with a faint NO. Then, you are going to be okay. All of this stuff is fixable and replaceable. WOW!!!! Why hadn't I thought of that? My dear husband was talking to the Volvo people, which was frankly more than he could handle. There was little time to comfort each other in this crisis because we were in survival mode with three teenagers in tow in the middle of yet another car breakdown. The strength started returning to my knees, the quiver left my voice, my heart stopped racing, and soon I was coming around. As my mind fought to put everything together......I finally got around to asking my husband about my car, the Volvo's problem. He said with a glazed look, "you aren't supposed to flush the transmission in a Volvo it ruins it." I blinked and said "oh." For you see, the day before I left for the beach, my sweet husband had my car serviced for us girls to head on down a few days before the guys. Among the services was a transmission flush. I start to laugh. My husband cannot even form words. I meet the second tow truck driver in one day and tell him thank you. I tell the three teenagers "this is a great experience for you to learn how to handle a road crisis." We pile our stuff from the Volvo to the rental car and head back unto I 65 North. At this point, my daughter says, "mom did you check the gas gauge? The next thing is we will run out of gas." Today, as I write this blog....my husband and son are shopping for his new college car. We were hoping to wait until May but what's a couple of months early. We got a good night's sleep. We are all safe, fed, alive and well. So.....the trip home wasn't bad at all. In fact, it was wonderful. And you know what? I realize we had several miracles happen yesterday and those weren't accidents at all....they were gifts.

The beach.

The beach is the place I go
For endless days of sun atop sand colored as snow.
Where warm sun dances across the air
Warming your face and even your chair.
From water toys and Matchbox cars
Naps, exhausted children and critters in jars.
Over the years things have changed.
A cute chubby lad now grown into a man.
Mickey Mouse swimsuits just won't work.
I'm not entertaining them with a game of dive deep.
Or catching crabs with a net just before sleep.
It's meeting young fellows or ladies at the pool.
Girls laughing, smiling while guys try to look cool.
No longer do we haul a trailer of stuff
To and from the beach with my husband in a huff.
I simply carry my single beach bag to my chair.
Splash on the lotion, put a clip in my hair.
Start on my latest Nicholas Spark's book.
I glance around, my daughter gives me her look.
No schedule or deadline to meet.
I'll occasionally wonder if my husband will burn his feet.
Remembering times when I sat in the sand
Building castles or wiping sand from a hand.
Filling buckets full of water.
Holding one of our sleeping toddlers.
No, it wasn't easy to make all this happen.
We came here whenever and most likely too often.
I do not regret our times in this place.
Even when our son got alittle too much sun on his face.
This place holds one of the chapters in our book.
Written by memories and treasures that we took.

So you are looking for hope.

I have no idea what you were hoping to read. The one looking for forgiveness from his wife. I have no idea what you have done, did not do, or anything about your circumstance. What I do know about is HOPE. A simple four letter word that is like the sour creme icing on a red velvet cake. The cake just isn't good without the icing....such is life without hope. Now, I have been on a few desperate highways of life. I have felt hopeless. BUT, my REAL hope comes from God, not people, situations, events, issues, tragedies. Because I know I am saved, my Lord died on the cross for me and my failures, and I asked for HIS forgiveness, HIS REDEMPTION, HIS HOPE. God does not let me down. He doesn't leave me, lie to me, betray me. HE IS. No matter where I find myself in life....God is there. I can't speak for people who do not KNOW THE LORD. I don't know where their hope comes from. The world will tell you there is no hope for you and your wife. The world will tell you to just throw it all away. Friends may even say it's impossible to overcome. This I know. My God is hope. He is about holding on when others have already let go. He is about waiting, being patient, kind, long suffering. Right now He is hoping you will find His hope that isn't dependent upon others. First, ask God to forgive you for what you have done wrong. Place your face to the floor. Let go and let your regrets fall out of your heart. Give your situation to Him. Wait. Once you give God your life, you are on His timetable. So wait, hope, change. Whether your wife forgives you or not, I have no idea. But, it only takes one request from God and He forgives. That is your hope today. That is going to help you make it. You can put your hope in this.

Trading your bright wife for a dark trip.

Did you know that the fallen governor is married to a very intelligent woman? Silda Wall Spitzer was a magna cum laude graduate of Harvard Law School. NO small feat. She was one of the hightest paid associates in an incredibly successful law firm. She was bringing home her own sak of bacon. Somewhere along the line around 1990's, sort of a growing trend among women in her same situation, she chose to devote herself to raising her three daughters and taking care of her powerful husband. The modern term, the alpha male husband. I can wonder if she felt torn between her career and the gift of motherhood. I wonder if she began to feel the stress and wear of a long day at the office and three young girls who needed help with schoolwork, activities after school and what for goodness sake is dinner going to be. She probably was an alpha wife. I am sure she may have been attracted to his powerful personality. He may have been one of those take charge kind of guys, make you feel special, taken care of. His wife, as she stood behind him, looked pleasingly pretty to me. Nice hair. Pretty face. Her eyes were swollen, I am sure from crying. He chose to trade this bright, devoted, wife, mother, and mate for a "5 foot 5 inches 105 pounds petite, pretty brunette named Kristen." Her story. Wants to be a singer, ended up on the streets in New York, used drugs, has tatoos that tell a story of hardness. Her nice looks landed her a chance to make great money. No, it wasn't making great grades in school to afford a great paying job after graduation. No, it was a job that offered immediate results, never a good thing. It offered a flashy life that included expensive watches, jewelry, clothes, apartments. But, I wonder if on the trip home...to her picture perfect apartment...did she feel remorse? Did she feel awkward, lonely, used? Maybe the toys she could afford to buy gave her relief. Like a drug to numb the pain of looking at what she had become. And what about her voice? Did she sing? Or did she cry as she looked in the mirror, realizing she had traded her dream for a room of deceit. 22 years old. Self righteous. Above condemnation. Superior. Above the law. Funny, no one has called his wife anything but bright, intelligent, devoted. WE don't even know how tall she is, nothing about her looks, nothing about her hair color. Why? Because she hasn't hidden in darkness. We know what she looks like.

Oh my goodness...Michael Buble!!!!!!!

My husband got us tickets to see Michael Buble, a jazzy, nice looking singer guy, like Frank Sinatra, only better. He ordered the tickets around Christmas time. He knows I love this guy's voice. I first became aware of this smooth singer, about five years ago. We were in Destin and we ran in the new bookstore to pick up reading material for the beach. I heard this dreamy music playing over head and immediately inquired as to who this was. The young bookstore worker smiled and me and responded with, "oh that's the new guy who sings like Frank Sinatra, but more bluesy, jazzy just a younger sort of sound." I bought the CD without hesitation. I have continued to follow this rising star along with his unbelievable notes that resonate deep in my heart. Forgive me, I am and always be a romantic person. So his music really does carry me places and I can feel his words deep in my heart. Well. When I heard he was going to be at the Summet Center in Nashville I hinted, loudly, to my husband, and he got the hint. He also made reservations for us to eat at the Governor's Club above the center. It was a wonderful, delicious, gourmet buffet that was even too much for me to eat. That is saying alot. The desserts were perfect and the atmosphere just right. We rode the elevator down to the next level to find our seats. Of course, there is always a funny with us. The nice ticket taker sent us to the wrong section and we bounced around for 20 minutes before our real seats were actually located, but when we finally were settled....there was nothing wrong from that point on. His show opened with a group called Natural 7. Seven black guys who are the complete band and vocal instruments without anything but their voices to make the sounds and sing. They were GREAT. I did not find myself looking at my watch, wondering when Michael would be on. When HE did arrive.....there was this nice looking, well dressed, smooth singing, comfortable as your best pair of shoes...guy, taking over the stage and the audience. I LOVED IT!!!!! He made love seem so warm, soft, overtaking, like a down blanket. It was like he sang to each person. Now, he did make a few comments that were PG 13 rated, a few four letter words and I am not condoning that, but I chose to put those in a different place and simply listen to his beautiful voice and watch his charismatic style grace the stage. And, he was so gracious in his gratitude. He seemed believably that he actually felt thankful for his opportunities. The evening was fairytale like. Everything went smoothly. I wasn't worried about anything...I let myself relax, listen, feel, and melt into a Cinderella ball. The only difference....I rode home with my prince and no one turned into a pumpkin. The songs and the evening only made me love my guy that much more. Thanks Michael Buble. Your evening was our pleasure to attend. We will be back if you ever come back.

What happens now?

The prominent governor has hidden secrets. I read the MSN news. Another story of a person gone wild. The words sort of flowed across my mind without much sting. You see, I have become numb to such news. It is something everyday. Another instance of poor judgement, selfishness, addiction, embarrassment, lies, deceit. I did not even bounce the news off of my family. But, when I saw the film clip. The event of this governor stating his dilemma, his events, his behaviour.....with his wife beside him, her head bent down, her shoulders dropped....I felt. He has three daughters. Three young women whose world has begun a fast roll, like a bowling ball with no barriers to stop it from hitting the gutter. A roll that is at the mercy of news reporters trying to get the latest story. I felt. One could argue, how could she stand beside such a distasteful fellow. I don't know her story. One could argue, let him be on the street or back in a hotel room with his trick of choice. I don't know. I just felt. Not one of us have the picture perfect marriage. None of us have the same coupling style. One outgoing. One shy. One the domineering decision maker. The other laid back. I personally would not want reporters at my every turn or step, BUT, the thing that resonates within my heart. How does a spouse, a mother, a father, decide that their behaviour, their choice is worth a disaster for their loved ones? How? His last appointment with a prostitute was on the day before Valentine's. I don't know why this bothers me so much, but it does. I can imagine him being with this worldly woman then bringing flowers home to his wife, the mother of his children, his mate, his partner throughout his political career. Did he feel? Did he lower his head at his betrayal? Or was he able to walk upright, straight through the door, hug his daughters, kiss his wife. Did his heart burn with regret? Only the God above knows these answers. Only He can judge this man accordingly. So how could she stand? Her knees were weak, I am sure. Her heart beating rapidly, taking her breath. Her mind numb, not even hearing the words her man was speaking. No sleep. A sick stomach from too much to digest. But, she stood. If only for the love of her girls. She stood. If only because she knew nothing else to do. She stood. Even if everything inside of her was lying on the floor. She stood. And, I will not judge her decision as it was. I will pray for them. I will ask her daughters to be covered in the shelter of love, mercy, grace and hope in despair. A simple thing. A good night's sleep. Able to eat enough to survive. A dear friend who won't ask or stare, simply be. To know God will never leave, even when their dad chose to walk down a dark, sinful, deceitful hallway.....the real Father knows no sin and will never put them in harms way. That is what is going to happen. Regardless. No matter what. No matter the outcome. No matter. That is what happens now.