Posts Tagged "MiriamJonesBradley"

Transition-itis, the Cure!

Posted by on Aug 2, 2013 in Blog, Home Is Where The Story Starts, Uncategorized |

  Do you know that “morning after the big event” feeling? The one where you feel like you’ve been hit by a ton of bricks and you Just. Can’t. Move? And using your brain? Don’t even think about it! That’s me this morning. Yesterday afternoon I finally sent the completed manuscript to my publisher for the third in my children’s mystery series, The Double Cousins Mysteries. I was so giddy—relieved, and well—exhausted. I slept hard, but this morning I woke up in somewhat of a fog. I don’t think it can all be blamed on the finished project either. It’s what I call transitionitis—the unrest and anxiety that occurs when we have to uproot ourselves and shift gears. You see, today we transition—well, really we dive right in—to a move. This weekend we load the U-Haul in Newberry, swap out some minor things like pianos in Hendersonville, and drive up into the mountains to unload in Banner Elk, NC. So, I’m a bit overwhelmed. Somewhat dismayed. Feeling like coffee isn’t going to do it! What to do? Then a verse popped into my head. A verse from Joshua. Now, if anyone knew about picking up and moving, it was Joshua. Just saying. Here’s the verse. What is God saying to you today? Joshua 1:9 Have not I commanded thee? Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the Lord thy God is with thee whithersoever thou...

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Kaleidoscope Memories

Posted by on Jun 8, 2013 in Blog, Home Is Where The Story Starts, Uncategorized |

Do you remember the kaleidoscopes we had as kids? Those long cardboard tubes with the little eye-hole in one end. We would peer through the hole, hold it to the light, and slowly turn the cylinder. As it turned we ooh’d and ahh’d over the different patterns of color and light that appeared in the kaleidoscope. http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/deed.en My mind feels like one of those toys today. All of the sites from the past week at home and with family are flashing through my mind, shifting back and forth, up and down, sideways. I see one in my mind’s eye and I think—oh that would make a great post—but then another memory floods in and shifts the focus away. I’ve started a list because right now I can’t focus enough on any of them to write it down. Besides, we’ve been too busy to stop and write. But one of these days I’ll be able to grab my list and pull up a particular memory. I love the fact that God gave our brains the ability to remember things we have seen and heard. That’s what happens when we sleep. Our experiences are filed away into long-term memory during sleep. Maybe that’s my problem. With the time-change and busy days I haven’t been sleeping as well as usual. Maybe when I get home and get some solid sleep my memories will file themselves away in a more orderly format. Then instead of a kaleidoscope my memories will be like a view master! That’s another of my favorite childhood...

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All I Have Needed–a Legacy for Life

Posted by on Apr 24, 2013 in Blog, Home Is Where The Story Starts, Uncategorized |

One of the things I learned from my parents and grandparents was this love of books. Even though books weren’t always easy to come by in the Sandhills, my ranch grandparents loved reading.  Grandma Jones was such a voracious reader that after her eyes failed her we arranged for her to get books on tape from the library. Yesterday, in interviewing my aunt for our family newsletter I discovered that my great-grandmother also loved to read. She always kept her magazines, Capper’s Weekly and GRIT by her chair. I get GRIT. I love the connection. Today, as I often do, I find myself wishing I could share something with my grandparents but I can’t. They are all in heaven. So, instead I am going to share it with you, and indeed all over the internet! I am pleased to announce the cover of my newest book, All I Have Needed, a Legacy for Life. This book is a collection of pieces written about the common sense life lessons gleaned from my parents and grandparents. I learn best through hearing and seeing, so the fact that I was surrounded by people who were gifted at creating word pictures for me was an incredible blessing. Not a day passes where something I see, hear, smell, taste, or touch doesn’t bring up a memory of something I learned from one of them. I am blessed. So rejoice with me that we have a cover. Keep your eyes open for updates on a definite release date. As of now, it appears that our release date is May 30th. As we get closer to that date I’ll let you know more details, but with the title name and my name you should be able to start watching Amazon and such places for pre-orders. You can also notify your local bookstore to be on the lookout for...

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Grandma and the Lion Hunt

Posted by on Apr 23, 2013 in Blog, Home Is Where The Story Starts, Uncategorized | 5 comments

This morning, sitting on my porch I am reveling in the fact that spring has sprung. The trees are budding out in their lovely spring green coat. No more grey-brown tree trunks. It is a riot of color everywhere I look. My husband mowed the lawn the other day but with all of the rain it appears you can see the grass growing.  And the dandelions. Whenever I see dandelions I think of Grandma McKnight and her lion hunts. A visit from Grandma and Grandpa McKnight was always a very special event. The excitement built over the weeks before the visit and the time they were there always flew by. It was the first time I remember recognizing that time seemed to pass quicker when you are having fun. I remember one visit when Grandma came alone. She was going to stay four nights. It felt like she was only there one. Grandma was full of ideas for keeping us busy. She would give us projects which would get us to work without realizing it was work. One of those projects was her “lion hunts.” “Let’s go on a lion hunt,” she would say. Then she would lead the way out the door into the yard. She would point to a dandelion and explain our purpose. “If you pick it when it is yellow, you prevent it spreading. If you let it turn white the seeds will go everywhere and then you will have more and more until they take over your yard.” So, the task at hand was to pick as many of the yellow ones as we could. I’m sure when we were little the idea of a “lion hunt” probably was inspiration enough. I don’t remember the first time we did this but I do remember that she would pay us. Yep, the bounty for a lion head was a penny. So, with candy costing ten to twenty-five cents this chocolate-loving little girl was motivated. I was going to seek out and destroy every yellow lion head I could find. I was thinking today about how pretty the dandelions look in the spring. Sometimes small children pick them and bring them to their Mommy as a “flower.” Only when they grow older do they realize that these pretty flowers are really weeds and should be pulled, preferably before they go to seed. I couldn’t help but think that sin in our lives is like that. It looks pretty at first, but if left unbothered it will go to seed and spread. We need recognize the sin-weeds in our hearts and pull them while they still look attractive. If we do that consistently, like the weeds the sin will decrease in frequency. I don’t know about you, but I’m all for decreasing sin in my life. I guess I’d better take a good hard look this spring not only at the dandelions in the yard, but into my heart as well. After all, I want the lawn...

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Changing world, Unchanging God

Posted by on Apr 18, 2013 in Blog, Home Is Where The Story Starts, Uncategorized |

Sunday night at church we had a singspiration. We sang our favorites and it evolved into a trip down memory lane. Several of the seniors shared memories from camp, their parent’s favorites, funerals, and favorite songs from their childhood. We spoke of George Beverly Shea and his ministry which still continued at the age of 104.   It was one of the most wonderful church services I’ve been to recently. You can chalk it up to my sentimental personality bent, the fact that I’m working on getting my Legacy book out, or even the fact that I’m deep into middle age and realizing that the generation ahead of me is aging.   Whatever it is I’ve been keenly aware of the fact that things are changing, people I love and respect are approaching end of life issues and I’m going to have to grow up. Just in the past year Andy Griffith and Margaret Thatcher died. All of my grandparents are gone now. My parents, aunts, and uncles are sprouting more and more health issues. I’m beginning to age. My oldest nieces are graduating from high school. Ugh.   Yesterday morning I was driving home after an appointment and I had the radio tuned to BBN. I love listening to their music. It is calming. It is the soundtrack of my childhood. It is worshipful.   The announcer started talking about George Beverly Shea. He was talking in the past tense and my heart sank. He went on to announce that Mr. Shea went home to heaven on Tuesday, April 16th. Grandpa Jones’ birthday. I was sad. Mr. Shea is part of my childhood soundtrack. In fact, the song that the radio announcer played is one that is on a record at my parent’s house.   So, I’m sitting here writing on my porch and I am listening to George Beverly Shea! I am thankful for his ministry. I am thankful to know he is singing in heaven, maybe with my Grandpa McKnight and my mommy. Who knows?   This morning I woke up with the song “Great Is Thy Faithfulness” running through my head. This is one of my favorite hymns. The truth that God is faithful and never changes is one I’ve focused on many times in my life. I have a feeling as the years go by it will become even more important in my life.   It doesn’t matter which famous Christian musician, staunch world leader, awesome entertainer, or personal friend or family member dies God won’t . He remains the same and He will provide everything I need every day of my life. “All I have needed, Thy hand hath provided. Great is thy faithfulness, Lord unto me!” Thomas O...

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Grandma Jones and the Antiques Roadshow

Posted by on Apr 1, 2013 in Blog, Home Is Where The Story Starts, Uncategorized | 1 comment

Today is Monday which means if we have time we’ll catch a little Antiques Roadshow on TV. We don’t watch it every Monday but every time we do I think about my Grandma Jones.   Grandma Jones had little patience for or interest in all of the hullaballoo around antiques. She just could not see what the big deal was all about.   I remember one particular conversation I had with her. I told her about the show and that a particular piece was worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. She looked at me with a straight face and said matter-of-factly, “It’s not worth that much. That’s just what someone is willing to pay for it. That’s just a bunch of stuff from when I was young.”   She had a point.   Grandma didn’t care about things. She cared about people. Oh, she wasn’t opposed to things; she especially liked the things that made her life easier later in life. Those things could even be pretty. But, spending exorbitant amounts of money on things that just looked like old furniture to her. . . not so much.   Because she cared more about people than things, her interest in old focused on people. She valued her elders and helped care for her own mother as long as she could. I have vivid mental pictures of my Great-Grandma Trunnell sitting in her rocking chair at Grandpa and Grandma Jones’ house.  She was a quiet, sweet lady. Those who knew her best said she was an angel. She kept peppermint candies by her chair and would let us each have one.   Grandma not only loved and cared for the elderly, she loved and cared for the young. Nothing lit up Grandma’s world more than seeing a new grand-baby, great-grandbaby, or even a great-great grandbaby! Right up to the time of her death she was always most interested in seeing the new people. The rest of us were just extra, but the new ones—they were essential. She taught Sunday School to children. She infused all of the children in her life with practical lessons on character just by being who God made her to be.   I’m thankful for the lessons on antiques that Grandma taught me. People are more important than things, even very expensive, very valuable old things. They are just things after all and you can’t take them with you when you go. But people, ah there’s the real truth to the lesson. If you invest your time and resources to share Jesus with people. . . you can take THEM with...

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Preparations

Posted by on Oct 29, 2012 in Blog, Home Is Where The Story Starts, Uncategorized |

At six o’clock this morning the power went off. We knew it right away because the bathroom fan we run at night for “white noise” stopped and the printer in the corner of the bedroom beeped. Yes, every room in our house becomes an office—but that’s a different story. The power was off for an hour and since then we have increased our preparations. We’ve drawn up water, searched out candles and flashlights, started the laundry, the dishwasher is running, and Bruce is checking out a used generator online. It is windy, cold, blustery and miserable outside and I’m loving it! Other than the fact that we may lose power again and all of the pretty leaves have blown off the trees, I think it’s wonderful. I’m sitting at my kitchen table watching the trees at the back of the property bend and sway with the wind. The leaves dance and fly frantically through the air. Here we are, at the end of October and winter is just around the corner. This blustery type of day with winds gusting well into the 50’s is quite reminiscent of life in Wyoming and South Dakota. This is just one of those Fall days. The temperatures FALL, the leaves FALL, and sometimes even tree branches and power lines FALL. The sun is shining—part of the time—and it is forecast to start in this afternoon with the rain/snow mixture that is supposed to come with this type of weather. I’m telling you folks, it feels like the middle of October in South Dakota. The thing about this weather is that I think it really has something to do with God getting us ready for winter. You see, if we went from the beautiful 70 degree days to the cold of winter it would be a shock. But, when you throw a few of these blustery “cold” 40 and 50 degree days into the mix in October the shock isn’t so great. It kind of reminds me of how he prepares us with little problems so that when the big trials come we can stand tall and not topple over. So, bring it on! I have a house full of books and I started a pot of beans this morning. I might even make some soup. There are just some important things to do on days like...

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Of Nurses and Politics II

Posted by on Sep 11, 2012 in Blog, Home Is Where The Story Starts, Uncategorized | 2 comments

One of the things I really enjoy about being a nurse is the part where I get to meet a lot of people. Go figure, I am a people person after all. My new job has been especially enjoyable for me. I am no longer in Critical Care. My patients are more alert, more conversive, and for the most part they get well and go home. I’m really enjoying that! The other night I had a very interesting patient. He made me think. He reminded me of a post I had written a few months ago. This man is Jewish. He was in a concentration camp when he was thirteen. He told me about that time in one sentence. “They killed my whole family. . . all of them.” I can’t describe the look in his eyes. He was watching the Convention that night. I think it was the convention of his party, but I’m not sure. It doesn’t matter. What matters is what he said as he shrank lower into the hospital bed. He looked at me with such sadness and said this, “They all say such awful things about each other. They just argue and argue.” I agreed with him and told him my “I wish politicians would act more like nurses” philosophy. He agreed. So, today on this day when we remember 9/11 and are facing an important election I am going to do something I’ve never done before. I’m going to cut and paste part of a previous post and throw it out there. We need to wake up folks. We need to start talking and stop fighting. I’m just saying. . . Of Nurses and Politics I started my new job last week. Since my official residence is still in South Carolina and I am a republican, I am voting in the primaries this week. Now, I realize there may be an apparent disparity between those two events, but I think not. I’ll explain why. I started thinking about this last month when I finished my last week at Lexington Medical Center.  I was so, so, so glad to be done. But, I was desperately saddened. I was leaving “my peeps”. I’ve never called a group that before. For some reason—I’m unsure why—I bonded more than ever before with my coworkers. I think it may have been our differences. The group that worked the night shift were from all over. There were some from the South, sure. But, there were some from the Midwest, the Northeast, the Philippines, Norway, and even one from that foreign-est of foreign places, South Dakota. But, that didn’t matter. It also didn’t matter that we were of all different persuasions of religion and politics. There were ultra-conservative people, bleeding hearts, those who really didn’t have an opinion, and some in the middle. We were of every color, “red and yellow, black and white.” We even had different styles of nursing. There were the “rule followers” who believed the policy is...

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