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holy water
This past week an area minster drowned while out fishing on a lake. After spending a week searching for his body, rescuers decided to drain about eight feet of water off. Afterwards, they found him lodged under a tree. He has been a part of my spiritual past through the connectional nature of our church. Willis died in a boat too...from a heart attack. When we first met I was trying to get people to donate blood to a new place that was locally operated so that we didn't have to use bus service for delivery. He preached a couple of sermons and got folks involved quick. That group is still alive and well, and they are his legacy.

There was one when I was a little kid who ran off with the church secretary, bless his heart. The walls are lined with pictures of the men and women who have pastored one of the oldest churches in our town. Not many women, by the way. But some! Okay, one. There is where I think that many Christians fail to realize that going to church is just kind of like a support group for folks who are out there in their own individual ministries.

Everyday an opportunity comes along to do the right thing and lighten somebody else's load a little. The cashier at the grocery has problems just like you so don't be a bitch mean and snarl at her. Older folks and little ones need help with basic things and so do sick ones. And animals. It's up to us to get our heads out of you-know-where and grab the moment when it comes around to do something kind "just because". Sometimes I feel way too rushed to stop and see what the needs are of the people that I run into. Every time I do, there's a blessing there. Go figure.

I actually got to sit down today at the sawmill and visit with my co-workers a bit. Mostly we talk about kids and values and good stuff to cook. Girlie talk. We talk about our pasts and futures around that table on a regular basis and I don't know one who wouldn't watch another gal's back in a heartbeat. Yeah..I reckon the guys would too if we tabbed it for 'em. Ain't that right Freda? We are a team.

Daddy just came by to check on the horses..in the rain. As I watched his truck pull out of my driveway I thought about how I've always taken that sight for granted just as I did the memory of my mother driving. The thought also crossed my mind about the day that BG first pulled out of the yard without me and I felt so absolutely nauseated and helpless I could have died. I gave her one of those little guardian angel pins to stab into the dash. My Aunt Nancy gave it to me after Jimbo died and I couldn't think of any better place for it that in that car as a constant reminder of my admonition every time she walked out the door: " Remember who you are."

Sometimes I forget...heck, we all do. That's when it's especially nice to chill out and get a new perspective on the whole deal. What's the worst that can happen? I have two free days to do just that so I'll catch you on the other side. Keep the faith.

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