The ultimate bucket list

The past month has flown by! The last time I posted we were in Michigan. That assignment was short lived. In fact only about a week after that post, we were finished and on the road again. The storm event didn't pay well, and with fuel costing way over $4.00 a gallon, we couldn't afford to do much sightseeing, but we did take the last two days to poke around Detroit just a tiny bit.

We visited The Henry Ford. I recommend the museum, especially if you have kids, boys in particular, and especially if those boys are interested in planes, trains, cars, ... pretty much anything with an engine or having to do with industry. It is a wonderful field trip covering the industrial revolution.  The F-150 assembly plant was interesting as well. I think my hubby enjoyed it more than I, but that's okay. It was his day. Mine would follow.

I HAD to take hubby's picture after we ate hot dogs at the Wienermobile Cafe inside the museum.

The next day was my day to do something I really wanted to do.

I guess the concept of a bucket list has been around for a long time, maybe since the beginning of time. I think it was made more popular though by the 2007 movie starting Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman. It is about two guys who make a list of all the things they want to do before they kick the bucket, and then set out to do them. If you haven't see it, you should. I think the idea of making a bucket list and accomplishing each of those things must be growing in popularity. I even found a website, another social media place, completely devoted to just that. It's called, no doubt, Bucketlist.

I don't have a formal bucket list. I've never actually sat down and written out a list of things I want to accomplish before I die. But I do have one, of sorts, tucked away in one of the back corners of my mind. I think I've mentioned here before that one of the things on that mental list is that I want to put my feet into all the major bodies of water surrounding the good ol' US of A.

So, since we were so close, hubby was kind enough to drive me to the edge of Lake Erie.

There's my feet in the water of Lake Erie.

Even though we experienced record heat for Michigan many of the days we were there, it was a cool, windy, and dreary day when we had opportunity to go to the lake. Naturally.
I know you are asking...Was the water cold? YOU BET YOUR BOTTOM BUTTON IT WAS! It took only a few seconds for my brain to register, "Girl, you are crazy!" And just a couple of seconds later my feet started  hurting. And then the sensation went a little past hurt into a bone deep OWWEEE! It's strange how quickly sharp cold pains can rush up your legs and force you to decide that, "Okay, I've been here long enough to put a big check mark on that bucket list!"
So now I've checked off:

• Atlantic Ocean
• Pacific Ocean
• Gulf of Mexico
• Lake Michigan
• Lake Ontario
• Lake Erie

When I look at that photo and see how much gray hair is on that head, it makes me think maybe I should start writing my bucket list down--before I get REALLY old and forget what it is that I want to do before I die. It's obvious from those gray locks that I am running out of time.

I have decided there are a few problems with the whole bucket list idea. First, the longer I live, the more things I think of that I want to add to the list. That could be a good thing, I guess, because it can be motivation to keep on breathing. I can just hear myself telling St. Peter at the gate, "I can't die now! I still have seven things on my bucket list! No wait. Make that eight!"

If I am going for that feeling of accomplishment, you know, like, "Whew! Glad to have THAT to-do list done!" then constantly adding one more thing to the bottom of the list can get discouraging after a while. When it's time for me to go, I'm sure I'll have to go, ready or not. I would hate to spend eternity disappointed that I failed in getting 100% of my bucket list checked off. But if I keep it short, and I do get it all done before my time, what will I do to entertain myself for the rest of my life?

Another thing that is troublesome about a bucket list is that as I accomplish those feats, check off those dreams realized, I am forced to admit and embrace the fact that I am one day closer to the end of my earthly life. 

That's not so bad if you have stuff on your bucket list like, step in dog poo, have a tooth pulled without the use of any pain killers, or get hit by a speeding locomotive. (Make that the last thing on the list.) Those type things can make a person happy to see one more day gone by and be one step closer to the end. But no! We put fun and enjoyable things on that list. At least I do. Things that make me want to keep on living so I can add more stuff to the end of my list! It's a maddening cycle.

All this makes me think of what I would call the ultimate bucket list. It belonged to a man named Simeon. As far as I know he had at least one very awesome thing on his list.

Luke 2:25-27 (NLT)
²⁵ At that time there was a man in Jerusalem named Simeon. He was righteous and devout and was eagerly waiting for the Messiah to come and rescue Israel. The Holy Spirit was upon him
²⁶ and had revealed to him that he would not die until he had seen the Lord’s Messiah.

Wow! Can you imagine?

God's people were in the clutches and service of the Romans. They longed to be free and to live once again as a nation favored by God. And here is an old man who wanted to see only one thing before he died. He wanted to see the Savior. He wanted to know that God was finally going to come and rescue his people.

Luke 2:27-32 (NLT)
²⁷ That day the Spirit led him to the Temple. So when Mary and Joseph came to present the baby Jesus to the Lord as the law required,
²⁸ Simeon was there. He took the child in his arms and praised God, saying,
²⁹ “Sovereign Lord, now let your servant die in peace, as you have promised.
³⁰ I have seen your salvation,
³¹ which you have prepared for all people.
³² He is a light to reveal God to the nations, and he is the glory of your people Israel!”  

 With the help of the Holy Spirit, Simeon was able to put a big check mark on his bucket list. He was happy. He was satisfied that there was nothing else to add to the bottom of his list.  He was ready to die in peace, knowing what he had eagerly waited for would come to pass even beyond what he had imagined. He knew he had seen God's salvation for ALL people, not just the people of Israel.

I hope, some how, that the days ordained for me and my ever growing bucket list will work out evenly. But even if they do not, I know I will still be able die in peace because, with the help and guidance of the Holy Spirit, I will be able to say that I have known God's Salvation. THAT, my friends, is the ultimate bucket list!

Lake Chemung Outdoor Resort

Okay, I know you have been waiting to read all about the bold, dashing, adventurous stuff I've been doing. *snicker snicker* I don't want to disappoint you, so please, right this minute, lower your expectations a notch or two, or 36.

I'll start by telling you a bit about the resort where we are staying. Don't let the term "resort" mislead you down some fantasy filled path. I'm not getting spa treatments every day, and I don't have room service. But I'm not complaining one little bit. Remember the resort in Ohio a long time ago?

This place is not buried in snow (I give thanks to God for the BEAUTIFUL weather) and it is a pretty nice place. We are here in the off season so I won't judge anybody for calling it a resort. I have a feeling that once all the Snow Birds fly up from Florida, it will be a jumpin' jivin' place. Relative to the extent to which retirees can jump and jive that is. After all, there is a miniature golf course, a shuffleboard deck, horseshoe pits, and a clubhouse. There is a mini grocery store with empty shelves and coolers where I stop in from time to time and wish for a jug of milk. Why, this place even has an indoor pool, which is currently empty and is being used as a place to store lawn mowers! In a couple of months, I'm quite sure it really will be a resort! And I'm quite sure we will probably be moved on by then. *sigh*

There is a nice lake nearby, and a golf course right next door. I'll bet that is why almost every house has a boat or a golf cart, or both, parked in the driveway.

See all the tarps covering all the fun-making machines?

I wonder if the people use their carts when they play miniature golf too?

There is a pond on the property and we were fortunate to get assigned a lot right at the water's edge. One day while on my stroll I took a few pictures. Just random, pointless, or maybe not so pointless, pictures.

I was almost mesmerized by the leaves in the pond.

Under water and undisturbed, peacefully rotting away.

Some float. Some sink. Neither by their own choice.

I think this would make a cool puzzle.

There are fish in the pond, so when I get tired of beating myself at shuffleboard, I can try some catch and release. 

This one looks like he wants me to take him home.

When the wind is calm the pond is like a mirror.

Which way's up? (Another one with cool puzzle potential.)

 And one day it snowed like crazy, for about ten minutes. 

One last look at those amazing leaves. (I would have put this picture up with the rest of them, but I got tired of trying to arrange them all just so. I never can seem to get the photos to stay where I want them. Sorry.)

So there you have it, my first two weeks in Michigan. I don't know if you can tell or not, but my stress level continues to drop a little each day. I've almost stopped grinding my teeth!

Now my poor hubby is the one with stress. His job is not easy, and I so admire him for what he does. He really is one of my biggest and most heroic heroes!

I really must rush off now, to another adventure: a trip to the grocery store!                                    

Recovery mode

It is time for another blog post. Past time. Honestly, I've had very little to say that anyone would want to read. Lately I have mumbled a lot about work, and believe me, you don't want to hear about that! The one thing I will say about my job, or any job, is that when it doesn't fit who you are, it can be a miserable place to spend your time. My job fits me about as well as skinny jeans fit a sumo wrestler.

Hubby was at home, working his "at home" job for five, going on six months. It doesn't pay much so I try to be very thankful for my job that helps fill in the financial gaps. But after a while, (13 months of that bad fit) I started to flip. Seriously! I could hardly recognize myself. It was as if I could feel a little of my person, who I am, being stolen from me every day. I felt like a prisoner in some awful sci-fi experiment having my personality slowly altered by brain sucking aliens. I think I was dying on the inside.

That's why, when hubby suddenly got a deployment call, I decided to pack a bag and get out of town. I called my manager when I was about a thousand miles from home and told him I wouldn't be coming in to work for a while. That was probably one of the most irresponsible things I have ever done in my whole life. I don't know if I did it because I was trying to avoid mental illness, or if I did it because I've already lost the last marble and should be locked up in a puffy room somewhere. Truth is, I don't really want to know the answer. I'm happy just to wonder.

Anyway, here I am, on another adventure, in Michigan. (Check out my little map in the side bar. I haven't been able to change that in WAY over a year, and I'm so excited to do so!)

We had a good trip with no problems. We did run into a little snow along the way, but it was very little and served as a reminder that in some places, winter is hanging on for a while.



The new truck (I haven't mentioned the new truck here have I?) performed very well and the camper followed along quite obediently and never blew a tire or anything. I began to feel a little more like myself with every mile. It's been a long time since I got excited over anything. So when this crazy little thing made me smile and made me want to take it's picture, I knew I was entering recovery mode.

But this is no ordinary spork. 

It's a spork. (Half spoon, half fork)

It's a folding spork!

How cool is that?!

There are perks to buying "to go" grapefruit from a truck stop. I know you're jealous. How many of you can say you own a folding spork?

Now, I'd love to make some deep spiritual point here, you know, like what God taught me through a foldaway plastic eating utensil,  but I'm still a bit numb from the personality stealing, brain sucking aliens. And for some reason, I find it hard to hear the voice of the Lord when I am in such a state. I seek Him, but full recovery is going to take a while. I pray that my "adventure" will last long enough for it to happen.

I appreciate your prayers.

Self-discovery #1: I'd make someone a great pet.

I told you I am on a self-discovery journey. Yesterday I discovered something about myself quite serendipitously. I had to do some heavy thinking in order to burrow through the fodder on the surface to get down to the roots of the Who Am I revelation. I hope my stupid little story and discoveries might help you discover something about yourself as well. If not, I hope to at least leave you amused and wondering what in the world God was thinking when He fashioned me.

I think I've mentioned that I work at Sears as a large appliance sales associate. That's NOT WHO I am. I hate the job. Don't ask me why I do it. That's a whole different post. But it is important for you to know that I work on commission. If I don't sell, I don't make money. And if I am not pacing the floor in the department of the store, I can't hound approach customers, and I can't sell anything. So, success partly depends on simple presence.

I have a co-worker--I'll withhold his real name just in case he is innocent of my accusations, but I'm quite sure he is not, so we'll just call him Pavlov--who loves to get me out of the department and away from any potential customers. He's been successful more than once. The first time he committed such a dastardly deed--shame on him. His repeated offences--well--*

One other thing you need to know about Pavlov: his wife makes some really yummy, and I mean REALLY YUMMY homemade caramels. And he brings these things to work.

A few evenings ago, Pavlov and I had to "close" together. Anybody ,including Pavlov, that has ever closed up shop with me knows that I don't like to drag my feet. When the front door locks at 9:00 p.m. I want to be ready to walk out the back at 9:01. (If the manager will let me, but it has not happened yet.) Co-workers also know that if they decide to piddle around and not participate in closing duties that I will do them all by myself, just so I can get out of there and hurry home.

There are several closing duties that can go undone and unnoticed by management, but one that can't is the closing of the cash registers. Obviously.

When a register closes down, it prints out a closing receipt. If there is no paper, or "tape" in the little printer, the register won't close down, and if the register won't close down, I can't go home. That's why, when Pavlov walked up to me with a helpless and sad look on his face and said, "Lavonda, do you know where there might be some more register tape? I can't find any. ANYWHERE!" I quickly and without thought replied, "Sure. I'll go get some." (Pavlov has worked at Sears over 20 years. Strange that he doesn't know where they keep the new rolls of register tape don't ya think?)

That little errand took me off the floor for several minutes even though I went at a high trot. When I returned with a half dozen rolls of paper, Pavlov was closing a sale. He grinned as I, out of breath, rushed past him on my way to load a roll into the disabled register and finish up the closing chores.

After his customers left the store, he pulled a zip lock bag out of his pocket and so sweetly offered me one of his wife's YUMMY caramels.

Okay, you are probably way ahead of me here, but be patient with me. Self-discovery sometimes take a while.

It wasn't until I was home, sound asleep in my bed, that revelation, like a bucket of cold water in the face, happened. As I slept, the events of that day replayed on the big screen of my sleeping brain, as did several other instances in which Pavlov had done something to take advantage of WHO I am and then tried to "reward" me with something. Sometimes his wife's YUMMY caramels, sometimes a meaningless compliment, sometimes a useless piece of advice. (The compliments and advice never make my mouth water, but those caramels...)

Suddenly out of sleep I was yanked when I shouted to myself, "He's treating you like a dog!"

Yeah, Pavlov has figured out my temperament. He has observed my involuntary reflexes. He gives the command, I obey, and then he offers a reward. --*Shame on me.

So what have I discovered about myself? Yes, I'd make someone a pretty good pet.

• I do what ever I can to help people even when they mistreat me or take advantage of me. (I obey commands.)
• I'm slow to recognize when someone is taking advantage of me because I don't take advantage of others. (I come back, wagging my tail after I've been kicked.)
• Apparently I like rewards. (especially if the reward is a hunk of homemade caramel)
• I don't make a mess in the floor. (But that has nothing to do with this post.)

I felt so angry and ashamed that I let this guy treat me like this. I lay there in my bed thinking about what I ought to do the next time Pavlov decides to use who I am against me. I ought to tell him to go get the paper himself. I ought to make him answer the phone and deal with the angry customer while I sell to the lady who just walked through the door. I ought to get right in Pavlov's face and ...

Then the Holy Spirit spoke silently yet so certainly, "But that's not WHO you are. You are made in the image of God with a heart bent toward grace. You are a reflection of Jesus Christ, an obedient servant who does what's right, no matter what others do to you. You are filled with, yes, God's Holy Spirit, a helper. And remember those fruits: love, joy, peace patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control?"

So what will I do the next time Pavlov does something to get me off the floor or takes a customer from me? I'll probably, as usual, act instinctively, without thought. I will help, serve, minister, and do what is right--with grace and kindness--because that's who I am.

But when he pulls those caramels out of his pocket and my mouth starts to water, I'm going to firmly say, No! Thank! You! (I'll wait for my reward.)

The Dumps

"THE HOLIDAYS" are over. All of them. Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year's Day, and now even MLK Day, and I didn't blog a word about any of them. We didn't do much celebrating around here. In fact, we hardly noticed that any of the holidays came and went. "Bla" sums it up.

Now that we are halfway through the month of January, you'd think I'd be all bright eyed and bushy tailed, filled with new resolves, and bubbling over with hope for the year ahead. Strangely though, I am, well, still very much "Bla."

I'm not sure why I'm down in the dumps and out of such dumps I can't seem to drag myself. I don't believe any one particular thing has put me in this condition. No, it has been a combination of a whole bunch of stuff.  As my sweet and pious (and I mean that in a good way) sister put it, "2011 was the year from HELL." And for some unknown reason, there were enough sparks and embers left over to make the start of 2012 seem dark, scary, and smokey at best!

I know, this doesn't sound like me. I usually try to look on the bright side, right? So someone go head and slap me! Please! (Just don't everybody start ringing my door bell at once, okay?) I'm ready to feel happy about something, get excited about something, celebrate, and sing about something good! Oh HOW I'm ready! Unfortunately,  I've not been able to find that something.

I'm not ungrateful and I don't think I'm having a full blown pity party even though I do have a list of gripes. I know there are a lot of good things in my life. I am very blessed. Part of my dumpiness comes from sharing the hurts, disappointments, and burdens of others, not just my own.

If you feel like commenting and giving me all the pat answers that should fix my attitude problems, go right ahead. I'll consider that your "slap". (Insert smiley face.)

But what I really want to know from my readers is:
Honestly Now,

• How do you deal with major disappointment? (especially if you are honest enough to admit that you feel that disappointed came from the hand of God)

• Are you ever in the dumps and if so, what puts you there and how do you get out? 

• Do you ever see hope in every one's future but yours? How do you deal with that?

• Anything else you want to add here?

I really do want 2012 to be a better year. I'm praying for that. I'm praying for hope. Rain. Joy. Encouragement. Answers. Blessings. Vision. Direction. ....And discernment--to know what I should do to be in the middle of God's work and what I should NOT do so as not to get in His way!
Pray with me won't you?

Maybe I will get back before three more month waste away. You can anticipate a post about a  journey of self-discovery a friend of mine has encouraged me to take. I'll post more about it later because now I need to rush out the door to work. (#1 on my list of gripes).

Roasted Mouse

I'm not a good blogger. Period. A good blogger blogs every day, maybe more than once per day. Also, good bloggers usually have a theme or a focused topic for their blogs. I WANT to be a good blogger, but I can't seem to make it happen. *sigh* I am not consistent in posting, and I obviously have a problem with "theme" except to share my Dashing and Bold life with you. I have come to the conclusion that the reason I'm so bad at regular posting (at least for the past year) is because Dashing and Bold has turned into Dull and Boring

 But, I'm here to testify, God is good! He sees me in my sad, bland condition and sends a Dash of adventure. He knows I like a little spice!

Even though hubby is currently between storms and the RV is parked at our "real house", he still sleeps and showers and sometimes watches TV in it because 1) that is much easier than moving all his stuff in and out every time he has to deploy, 2) the bed in the RV is larger and more comfy than our bed in the house, 3) the TV in the RV is HD and the one in the house is not.

I spend my  nights with him in the big comfy bed, but all my "stuff" is in the house. So, if the neighbors are up and looking out their windows late at night or early in the morning, they might get a glimpse of me hotfooting it back and forth in my housecoat. Oh, let them talk--they probably need a little spice too.

A few days ago, very early in the morning, I woke with a start. I punched hubby in the shoulder, "Something's burning!" (We live in a state of Fire Alert due to the drought.)

He popped up and yanked open the window shades to look for smoke. I stumbled out of bed and hurried to the door and poked my head out. No smoke. No fire. Outside the air was fresh. I closed the door, then it hit me.

The unmistakable aroma of roasting mouse! (I start to gag just thinking about it.)

Apparently, the fur coat God gave this particular little rodent didn't satisfy it, so it ventured onto our furnace to warm its little feet. Or, perhaps it was just wondering through, hunting for something to chew, and happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time when the heater came on. Either way, warm STINKY air blew through the vents, filling our small space.

Satisfied that our lives were not in danger, I went back to bed and tried to go back to sleep. Every time the heater came on, the horrible smell woke me up. I tried sleeping with my head under the covers, but for some reason, I got the feeling that oxygen doesn't exist between bed sheet. I'm sure there is some scientific proof, but I haven't had time to Google it. Finally I gave up and did my hotfoot thing back to the house.

My husband is a good man, and I don't mean to be critical. Honestly. But this next part of the story is important.


Naturally I informed asked him if, later in the day, he could remove the mouse from the heater so the putrid odor would go away. He spent a few minutes making excuses explaining how he would have to take out the VERY HEAVY washing machine, tear into the...remove the...break the...try to open the... And he ended by saying that he thought that the burner part of the heater was a sealed unit and there was no possible way a mouse could get in there.

Well. Okay then. Hmmm. What WAS that awful smell?

And he logically reasoned: Surely if it WAS a mouse, the little varmint was "done" by now and the worst of the stink was gone. (I tried not to let him see me roll my eyes.)

Fast forward to the next evening. I do my hotfoot thing across the yard to the RV to go to bed, temperature drops, heater comes on, and WHOP! The smell of mouse a la cart slaps me in the face. All. Night. Long. It was a very long night.

Thankfully the stink was so bad, it interrupted hubby's sleep as well. The next day he decided to do what was impossible to do the day before. Get rid of the mouse.

The process took only a short time and a small amount of effort. "It wasn't as hard as I thought it was going to be. I should have done it yesterday." --Hubby 


Unfortunately, all those hours of slow roasting the mouse embedded the stench  into the curtains, the furniture, the walls,  the glass windows...Okay, maybe not the windows. But I can promise you one thing: it is going to take a whole lot more effort and time to get rid of the stink now than it did to simply get rid of the mouse.

This furry little fellow is a lot like sin, don't you think? How often do we hold tightly to some sin or vice, knowing it is stinking up our lives, yet refuse to do anything about it? We can always come up with reasons why our stinky little problem is too hard or even impossible to remove. We may even deny that we have sin in our hearts or reason that if we just leave it alone, pretty soon it will just go away.

God's Word lets us know, without a doubt, that sin has consequences. Here is just one example. (2 Samuel 24:10-15)

I think I'm going to take a good long look at this photo of my roasted mouse and store it in my memory bank. Then the next time the Holy Spirit taps my heart and tells me something nasty is cooking in there, I'll decide to act quickly and get rid of it, before it permanently stinks up everything and everybody around  me. After all, it's not as hard to do as I might think, and I'm sure I should have done it yesterday.

Please feel free to comment or give testimony. 

Drought

 It really has been almost ten months since I've been here. I've not been having a lot of fun and time has not exactly flown. Yet I am a bit bewildered when I look at the calendar. There's been no writing or reading here--blog world, I've missed you! (Do I have blog-world friends left at all?)

Why have I been away so long? Drought.

I'm sure you've heard; it has been on the news and in the papers. Texas is in exceptional drought. Even the prickly pear have turned yellow and shriveled.

It's been a tough year. Since my last post, we've experienced temperatures ranging from -6º F in January with windchill in the -20ºs, to 111º F in June. In Amarillo we've had, if my memory is correct, about 50 days of temperatures that exceeded 100º. Unbelievably high winds through the winter, spring, and most of the summer fanned wild fires that burned millions of acres and destroyed thousands of homes. My own neighborhood was forced to evacuate twice this year because of fires. And still fires are being fought daily across the state.

In all my life I've never see the land so parched. Crops have failed, ranchers have been forced to sell their herds, lakes and wells have dried up, and cities have restricted water usage. I've literally cried for my beloved state.

Harsh weather and lack of rain are not the things, necessarily, that have kept me away from this blog. It's been a personal drought: a life draining dryness of my soul. I've had no words or thoughts to share. I feel like an empty well.

The past several months have not been all bad though. God has blessed hubby and me with two new granddaughters. One was born in July and one is expected to make her arrival in November. Our parents, our children, and our grandchildren were all here for a visit recently. Bills are paid and food is in the refrigerator. God is still on His throne and He is good.

But there have been some disappointments, struggles, frustrations, and down right dull days. That's life, huh?
Of all the events and daily grind that come to mind, I can't decided which has been most draining and  frustrating. The one thing about which I've probably complained the most  is my job and the fact that I have to have one. Yes, the bad financial condition of our country has touched whacked our lives.

I think the last time I posted, I was unemployed. Shortly after that post, I went to work at Sears selling (or trying to sell) large appliances. I won't take up space with a bunch of details. All I will say is--BLECH! Don't get me wrong. In this rough economy, I am thankful to have a job when I need one. So many people are not as fortunate. The problem is--I'm not crazy about commissioned sales, and being tied down to a job keeps me from traveling with hubby when he is working. I don't think "sales" is what God created me to do.

Imagine if you will, hiking up a steep mountain wearing one shoe that is two sizes too large and the other that is two sizes too small. That's me in a commissioned sales position: a total misfit! Though I'm very uncomfortable doing what I do to make a few bucks, I am trying to learn something from the experience. Whatever lesson God has for me, I want to learn it quickly so I can move on and OUT of there, on to bigger, better, and more fulfilling things.

While I've been stuck at home working for Sears, hubby has had a few deployments, worked hard, and kept the bills paid. (And yes, I've pouted about missing out on the travels and adventures.) He is home now, between storms... Those of you who have followed this blog for a while know what that means. My anxiety meter pegs from time to time. *sigh* Some day I'm going to get a handle on that problem. I hope.

In the mean time, I'm praying for rain--I don't know about you, but I am way past ready for a long, steady, life restoring rain--and I'm digging a little deeper in the bottom of my dry inner well. I've not hit a spring yet, but I have come across a clod or two of damp dirt. I know, down deep, the Spirit of the living God resides in me and has the ability and desire to gush! I don't understand nor can I explain this season of drought. All I know is, I'm tired of it!

Dear Lord, let it rain!