Wednesday, May 30, 2012

Bond Servant of Jesus Devotional (Words from the Lord Series)




Child you are my servant. Cast away all doubt and deception. You are sealed with the Holy Spirit of promise unto Me against that day.

Cast down your fears and imaginations. Be not paralyzed but free in Your Lord Jesus Christ. I have bound you to Me.

My bride, My bride, no fear but stand. I love you beyond your recognition. Rest. Selah.
In Him you also trusted, after you heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation; in whom also, having believed, you were sealed with the Holy Spirit of promise…. (NKJV)
For this reason I also suffer these things; nevertheless I am not ashamed, for I know whom I have believed and am persuaded that He is able to keep what I have committed to Him until that Day. (NKJV)
Who are you to judge someone else's servant? To his own master he stands or falls. And he will stand, for the Lord is able to make him stand. (NIV)
[ Jesus Washes His Disciples' Feet ] It was just before the Passover Feast. Jesus knew that the time had come for him to leave this world and go to the Father. Having loved his own who were in the world, he now showed them the full extent of his love. (NIV)


O LORD, truly I am Your servant; I am Your servant, the son of Your maidservant; You have loosed my bonds.(NKJV)


Who would you rather be serving? One who gave His all to set you free? One who died in your place? Or one who came to lie, cheat, kill, rob and destroy? A look at scripture will show you the truth and that there is really only one logical choice. HE (Jesus) is so able and we are but dust.


And as we have borne the image of the man of dust, we shall also bear the image of the heavenly Man. (NKJV)



The thief does not come except to steal, and to kill, and to destroy. I have come that they may have life, and that they may have it more abundantly. (NKJV)




Prayer: Dearest Lord Jesus, thank you that I am sealed, bound and can stand in You! You paid the price for all this victory.  Even when I feel puny, because I am bound to You and You are standing, so am I! Your gifts just keep overwhelming me day by day. You are my Incredible Lord Jesus! AMEN

(C) Marijo Phelps all rights reserved. Use with proper credits.

Tuesday, May 29, 2012

That Which is Pleasing to the Lord - Input for Ministry Leadership Team Series


Thankfully we were in the truck when we saw this critter yesterday!



What does He (the Lord Jesus) want from me?

It is a sign of immaturity when we want to be told do this and do that by someone – we don’t want to take responsibility for failure. We want to fit the mold and be like everyone else so we like the set pattern of what to do and how to do it.

Let’s open our ears to the Holy Spirit. There is a balance of the trinity. Father plus Son plus Holy Spirit = balance.


But the Helper, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in My name, He will teach you all things, and bring to your remembrance all things that I said to you.(NKJV)



These things we also speak, not in words which man’s wisdom teaches but which the Holy Spirit teaches, comparing spiritual things with spiritual. (NKJV)



For the Holy Spirit will teach you in that very hour what you ought to say.” (NKJV)


We miss:
God: firm yet loving, righteous not harsh, just with gentleness. He warns us of catastrophe yet receives repentance, metes out vengeance yet is abounding with grace, He is justice with mercy.
“To what end and for what purpose has God allowed this to come into my life?”


And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose.(NKJV)


PEOPLE WHO CAUSE BRUISES ARE MERELY TOOLS IN THE HAND OF GOD. GO TO GOD WITH THE BRUISES.

Psalm 85:10 (New King James Version)
 10 Mercy and truth have met together; Righteousness and peace have kissed.

 Hebrews 11:5 (New King James Version

5 By faith Enoch was taken away so that he did not see death, “and was not found, because God had taken him”; for before he was taken he had this testimony, that he pleased God.

What God says to you, do it. Why are we bothered by no formulas, no 1,2,3….

#1 there is a cost: maturity, discipline and responsibility

#2 Our ignorance (we don’t “hear” God or we think we don’t) we hear through the Word. Read the Word, pray, ingest, digest and absorb the Word. “Speak Lord for your servant hears” (prayer after reading the Bible) Come EXPECTING to hear from God.

#3 Comparison (I don’t hear from God like so and so) He deals with us in relation to who we are individually. We couldn’t handle the way He speaks to so and so….

Ephesians speaks of husbands and wives also this applies to us relating to Christ ALL of us together in our uniqueness fulfill or are the total Bride of Christ. Without one part his Bride isn’t complete… if we were all “cookie cutter” people we wouldn’t be His Bride.

Please do not run around asking “do you think this is God?” Go to God and ask HIM!

DON’T PUT GOD IN A BOX.

You can’t guide a car until you get it moving. Move out so God can check and balance you in His Holy Spirit.

Duties for certain days. End “tuning in” to God with worship, worship comes after praise.

TEACH ME TO WORSHIP, O GOD. Go and ask the Father this every day.

Written by Marijo Phelps February 2010 partially from notes taken March 1980 speaker Shirlee Green

Friday, May 25, 2012

Marvelous Mystery



Alpha and Omega
The ONE
Who knows
End from Beginning

I AM
Infinity wrapped
Manger swaddled
Heart held

Precious ONE
Heaven’s own
Came down
Mercy Gift

Undeserved, unearned
Righteousness imputed
Savior seeking
Dwelling in you…..


© Marijo phelps all rights reserved – use giving proper credit.

YOUR BRIDE



YOUR BRIDE

Lord Jesus, I praise You for the Body
Who can reach out and touch
And pray in Your power
For one another any time, any hour
You've blessed us so much
Unite us together, Your Bride!!
(C) Marijo Phelps all rights reserved - use giving proper credit.

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

My Frustrations with President Obama, and Why He's Not Getting This Black Vote by guest writer Mogama


Mogama is a fellow writer and Christian pastor. We have written for the same website for several years now.  He has written an incredible book, called Refugee Was My Name which I have in my personal library and would recommend to everyone.

Refugee Was My Name is a true story based on a private dairy-journal kept by the author during pre-civil war and through rebel checkpoints, as a displaced person in Liberia, and as a refugee in Sierra Leone and Ghana before moving to Kentucky in the USA. Dates and places are real. Personal names are real or created to protect the author or other persons.

His book is available at Amazon.com.

His article below is written with clarity and expresses well my frustrations along with some others that I hadn’t considered. I have not had a guest writer on my blog except for Jessie writing in hopes to get a scholarship. Hope you are enlightened by this most well thought out piece.

Marijo


My Frustrations with President Obama, and Why He's Not Getting This Black Vote

Posted: Tuesday, May 22, 2012

by Mogama(23,881)

Did I cast the right vote when I selected Senator Barack Obama in 2008? More importantly, was mine a righteous vote?

I use the words "right" and "righteous" not only in a moral sense but also with reference to justice. I reasoned that the election of Mr. Obama was necessary to permanently heal the racial injustice by which America and other Westerners humiliated and enslaved Africans in the Trans-Atlantic Slave Trade.

I reckoned my vote a final "ashes to ashes, dust to dust" of the corpse of race-based slavery followed by segregation, lingering discrimination and the inequality that have plagued the sons and daughters of Ham (patriarch of dark-skin peoples). My vote yelled "JUSTICE at last"!

What voice could sound the trumpet of justice any louder than seeing a son of Ham in the white house that black slaves built? A biblical sense of justice assumes that measurable reparation must always be made for slavery. That was a primary theme of the Exodus, when Israelite slaves were not only delivered from Egyptian bondage but also departed with much Egyptian bounty (Exodus 3:22; 11:2; 12:35-36). There was no doubt in my mind that an Obama presidency would be a part of a fitting reparation for the gory and gruesome inhumanity of slavery.

Satisfied that my vote had helped to deliver historical justice at the cemetery of racism, I was unprepared that the black man I had selected would become a warrior against everything most blacks stand for. Needless to say, I am more than disappointed that I voted for Senator Obama. I am very frustrated, and I have started voicing my sickening frustration, which may only be somewhat relieved when I vote against President Obama one smiley Tuesday in November 2012. Just can't wait!

Obama's Record on Africa

Let me start with Liberia, that unique nation founded in the 1820s on the former Grain Coast of West Africa by former slaves from the United States. President Obama has done nothing to help change the neglected stepchild status that Liberia has endured since that fledging settlement declared independence in 1847, a declaration that America was not eager to honor. Instead, the Obama administration chose to pressure the Liberian government to impose homosexual marriage on the Liberian people as a condition for foreign aid. Repugnant was what the Liberian people thought of that audacity of condescension.

President Obama has yet to give even a hint of making a trip to historic Liberia. Again, that's the only nation on the face of the earth that was founded by black Americans! And we would assume "the first black president of the United States" would understand the implication of that history.

His interest in Kenya is just as nauseating. Maybe this whole story about Obama's dad being a Kenyan is fable after all. How can that be true, and the son of a Kenyan shows zero enthusiasm to set foot on that East African soil? Some of us Africans swipe our regretful tears with the thought that President Obama is saving the best for last, that he will eventually catch African fever and visit Kenya in grand style during or near the end of his second term in office. Second term? May it never come for him!

Thus far every significant action by the Obama administration is producing the rise of Islamists who swear to impose Sharia Law as their religion demands. First, the Muslim Brotherhood is taking over Egypt under the guise of "democracy". Then Libya will be next. Does Obama not know that he is advancing the cause of Sharia in Africa to the eventual persecution of most Africans my Islamic theocrats?

A Villain for the Cause of Poor Black Americans

We foolishly assumed that America's "first black president" would boldly tackle head-on the many economic disadvantages that black Americans face, especially during this Great Recession. What day dreamers we were! The black Robin Hood never mounted his horse. Though the unemployment rate among blacks hovers in the 20% range, President Obama remains cautious, even timid about tackling any cause that will specifically benefit blacks. His fear of being seen as a "black president" has rendered him all but useless to the economic plight of blacks. In that regard, President Bill Clinton was blacker than President Obama. Our president reminds me of the prisoner who was asked to list ten names of inmates to be released; the guy never got around to writing his own name on the list. Yes, the guy may have had a big heart, but he was a fool, and he remained a prisoner.

A Champion for Abortion and Homosexuality

Was I deceived by Senator Obama's "traditional family", assuming that would be the version of the family he would vouch for? Somehow I held my breath that he would keep in check his proclivity for the abortion and homosexual agendas. No! Like a race horse at the Kentucky Derby, President Obama blasted out of the stall, charging at us with the cause of abortion raised above his head, not minding to infringe on the consciences of people of faith who do not share his zeal to pay-back his abortionist donors.

On the homosexual front, he played the faithful house slave boy, doing all the dirty work for his supporters in the homosexual wing of American politics. His administration pushed to repeal "Don't Ask, Don't Tell", a law passed under President Clinton, a fellow Democrat at that. The Obama justice department refused to defend DOMA (the Defense Of Marriage Act), the law of the land. Then sprinting for the finish line, President Obama handed the box of Kleenex to his homosexual fans when, on May 9, he happily, proudly endorsed same-sex marriage, falling in line behind his vice president, a pathetic case of the tail wagging the dog.

Does he know that most black people do not share his flawed thinking that equates special rights for homosexuals with civil rights for blacks? The vast majority of blacks see it as an insult to parallel blackness with homosexuality. For one thing, I have met some former homosexuals. Never once have I seen or heard a former black. Even after Michael Jackson bleached his skin, he remained a black man.

So here I stand...can't wait to NOT vote for Mr. Obama come November. That should not mean I'm eager to vote for Governor Mitt Romney, whose Book Of Mormon I read while in seminary. There I found that my pigmentation is a curse from God, and that to enter Heaven my skin must be turned white. I must become "former black" to have eternal life? How can I vote for that? Belief matters. And No, "the lesser of two evils" line won't work here; my conscience does not free me to choose any kind of evil, more or less, evil in practice (Obamanism) or evil in doctrine (Mormonism).

From now on, I will only vote for candidates who do not contradict any major belief I hold. Never again will I hinge my vote on the tail of a politician, hoping he will not follow his instinct to undermine my biblical worldview. Part of that worldview is that I will give an account to the Lord for every vote that I cast. Already, I am not looking forward to giving an account for my "Obama for president" vote. ~mogama~

Mogama (Moses Garswa Matally) is a minister, Bible teacher, life skill coach, blogger, and author of Refugee Was My Name. Due to a civil war in Liberia, his native country, he fled to Sierra Leone, then to Ghana where he lived as a refugee, before migrating to the United States. Mogama holds a Bachelor of Theology and a Master of Divinity. He is the founding pastor of Church For All in Kentucky, where he lives with his wife and three children. Website www.mogama.info;email mogama@gmail.com.



» left by Marijo Phelps

 30 minutes ago. NEW! 
143 fans.

I think we will have perfect government soon - MARANATHA and only then.... having said that I am sorely disappointed in BOTH parties right now. It seems that, by definition, those who run are millionaires - how can they begin to know about the average family here in America? I appreciate your article very much. I have voted for some good men (like Alan Keyes) who didn't make it to the end of the process and I am sorry he did not. Ahhh, disturbing times we live in, eh? BUT our mandate is to "occupy until HE comes....." Now if we could just figure out what "occupy" entails! 

Many other Christians totally agree with you "The vast majority of blacks see it as an insult to parallel blackness with homosexuality".... this is not civil rights. 

My concern with Romney (one of many, many) is that if he was deceived by Mormonism, what else will he swallow - he is a good businessman though but ??? 

MARANATHA!!! 


HAVE YOU EVER?




Have you ever been
To a place so dear
That you never wanted to go?

Have you ever been
Loved so much
That everyone saw you glow?

Has there ever been
A sacrifice made
That paid the immeasurable fee?

Only if you've met
The Savior and Lord
And walked in His liberty...

You must be thinking
He's a pretty great man
To be able to love me so

You'll find out
He's more than a man
When the God of all you'll know

Ask His forgiveness
For all your sin
He WILL meet you there

He's reaching out
In love to you
To lift you from despair

How do I know
All those things
I've been sharing with you?

Because I know Jesus, the risen Lord
I've let Him make me anew
Will you? Will you? Will you?


Come visit my blog!
(C) Marijo Phelps all rights reserved. Use with proper credits.

Monday, May 21, 2012

LIFTED




Today You lifted me up to You
Your calmness quieting my mind
And drawing me with its strength
How long would I have burdened
If I'd chosen not to come?
I was so close to being crushed
By trying to carry my own heaviness.
Thank you beyond words, my Jesus
For drawing me into Your arms once again!!


Please come visit my blog at http://myincrediblelord.blogspot.com/

(C) Marijo Phelps all rights reserved. Use with proper credits.

Sunday, May 20, 2012

Be Still and Know part 2 (Words from the Lord Series)




My little daughter, the confusion you see is of the enemy but I am working through it for your good. 


Whether you're frantic or at peace in me the outcome is the same. 

So you can turn it loose to me. I have a plan for you birthed out of love. 

Still yourself in Jesus and behold as it unfolds. Trust me.

Psalm 4:5
Offer the sacrifices of righteousness, and put your trust in the LORD. (NKJV)

Psalm 18:2
The LORD is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer; my God, my strength, in whom I will trust; My shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold. (NKJV)

Proverbs 3: 5-6 Trust in the LORD with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct your paths. (NKJV)

PRAYER: Dear Jesus, please help me to be at peace in You. Looks like You are telling me that frantic wastes so much time and energy and I do hear You, help me to remember when I am in the thick of it next time. AMEN

(C) Marijo Phelps all rights reserved - use giving proper credit.

Saturday, May 19, 2012

GOING HOME


(Actually a true short story)

“All right, listen up. Right after Christmas break we are going to be studying how to give an injection. Read chapters 13-16 and be ready when you get back. See you at 7:30 AM on 2nd floor at County tomorrow,” barked Miss Randall.
Why did the 2nd year students like her so much. That little red headed spit fire of a retired Army nurse just ruined my Christmas break. She was always yelling at us, even in front of the patients. She still wore starched, white uniforms. If she sneaked out from under one it would stand straight up without her.
“Why are you looking so pale?” asked Lupe one of my fellow students, a gal I carpooled with to class and the hospital. Pat, our other carpool gal, just nodded her head
“Shots. If I am going to flunk out of nurse’s training this will be why. I will have to follow one of mom’s med nurses (the girls knew mom was a nursing supervisor) around all vacation just to be able to look at shots being given,” I replied to Pat and Lupe.
“What’s the big deal about injections? Why are you so scared?” Pat chimed in. She had worked in a doctor’s office for years and already had injections mastered.
“When I was five I had an abscessed tooth. It’s kind of a long story.” I replied.
“Come on, it couldn’t be that bad, could it", stated Lupe.
“They put a towel over my eyes and didn’t tell me what they were going to do. Just when the dentist was right by my face the hygienist turned. The towel slipped and I saw that horse syringe with the 3 inch needle. I screamed. Mom came and I went to child specialist dentists for years.” I muttered half ashamed.
“OK, so now we know why this is a bit upsetting to you…” said Lupe.
“Come on gals, get a move on or you will never finish with your charting,” said Miss Randall.

**************

We carpooled home, got some dinner in time to study and go to bed. We were up very early the next morning and back at County Hospital for our last day before Christmas break.

***************

I was getting linens together to make a bed when I heard Miss Randall, “Schacht, come here, now.”
“Yes, ma’am?”
“Mr. Thompson in room 212 needs a pain shot. I am going to walk you through it while you give it to him,” Miss Randall stated.
“But, Miss Randall, we haven’t even given shots to grapefruits yet, I…I….I….”
“Come on, Schacht, here’s the alcohol sponge and syringe, let’s go,” was the only reply I got from Miss Randall.
We walked in the room. I had the presence of mind to check Mr. Thompson’s wrist band.
“Hello Mr. Thompson, we have your pain med here and Miss Schacht is going to give it to you. Turn over. OK, Miss Schmidt, here’s the upper outer quadrant and be sure to get the air bubbles out by thumping the barrel of the syringe,” all of this while she did a practice swipe with her alcohol sponge while pointing to the place for the injection.
Then she turned to me and gave me the syringe. You could see Mr. Thompson tightening up all over.
I think I was probably holding my breath as I checked for bubbles, measured the area, swiped the alcohol and somehow managed to inject the pain med.
“You did a good shot,” said Mr Thompson looking paler than any patient had ever looked to me before. Under the circumstances, what else could he say?
“Come on, Schacht, let’s go.”


I got outside of the room before my legs turned to jelly. I managed to make it to the nearest chair before they gave way.
I gave an injection! I couldn’t believe she did that to Mr. Thompson, but I gave an injection!
“Harrumph, at least you don’t have to waste your vacation following med nurses around,” grumbled Miss Randall.
Slowly it began to dawn on me, I could go home for Christmas and not have to hang around the hospital.
I think I was beginning to get a small picture of why the 2nd year students loved Miss Randall so much. Under that rough and crusty exterior she had insight and a tender heart. But don’t ever let her catch you saying that out loud.

(C) Marijo Phelps all rights reserved. Use with proper credits.



Monday, May 14, 2012

Does Your Mouth Get You into Trouble?


I have a new T-shirt! Actually this is one I first saw about 3 years ago in just the right color light sage green. The front looks embroidered and says “Lord, keep your arm around my shoulder and your hand over my mouth”.

In my walk with Jesus He and I have talked about many things. So many of the areas where I , and apparently many others who call themselves His, have problems deal with the mouth. Gossip, maybe even disguised as a prayer request, but I need to think about what is the actual intent of my heart in sharing this request. How many times do we speak before thinking. Overeating, OK now I would be accused of meddling, I think the Bible calls it gluttony and at times it describes me.

The good news is there is hope and I realize even in writing this piece that I have made some progress over the years.

There are promises in His word about our mouth:

In Psalm 81:10 the Word speaks of the Lord being our God who brought us (our forefathers) out of Egypt and goes on to say open your mouth wide and God will fill it.

What pearls of wisdom that contains. How much better off would we be if we allowed God to fill our mouths with what we should say, but that requires waiting and listening and sometimes it is so much easier to plow on and stick our foot in clear up to our knees. I know, I relate all too well to that “up to the knee” syndrome.

In Exodus 4:12 God is speaking and reminding us to go and He will be with our mouth and teach us what we shall say.

OK, looks like listening and learning again. Somehow we can get the picture that God knows how we are and is willing to help,. Ours is to hush and tune in.

Ephesians 4:29 exhorts us to let no corrupt word proceed out of our mouth but that which is good for necessary for edification that it may impart grace to the hearers.
Grace is unmerited favor. Does what we say give unmerited favor to those who hear us? “Good for necessary edification” seems like a mouthful but what it shows us is that God knows that we all need a word of encouragement to build us up and he is also challenging us to speak in that way to others.

He wouldn’t be talking to us about impossibilities. He wouldn’t be making suggestions that are unreal. Hey, that means my God is willing to step up and help me have pleasing words as I speak. That is a most incredible promise.

In Psalm 71:8 the psalmist David is singing a prayer asking God to let his mouth be filled with “Your praise and with Your glory” all the day.

I am thinking if David’s mouth was filled with praises of the Lord it wouldn’t be filled with moaning, groaning and grumpiness even about his enemies and David seemed to have more than his share of enemies.

Another praise song comes from Psalm 89:1 where David says he will sing of the mercies of the Lord forever and with his mouth he (David) will make known the Lord’s faithfulness to all generations.
We can choose to use our mouth to praise and pray and lift up His most incredible name. Yes, and even to eat reasonably. There I go meddling again.

In the meantime I will wear my new T-shirt and be reminded that His arm is indeed around my shoulders and, on occasion, His hand might find itself over my mouth.

Prayer: Thank you Jesus for teaching us about our mouths in your Word. Help us to praise you and to choose to bless others all the days of our lives. Help us to choose life in our words and not death or curses. Help us to “shine” Jesus. AMEN

(C) Marijo Phelps all rights reserved. Use with proper credits.




Sunday, May 13, 2012

Remembering Mom (A Dementia Story of Love)


Marijo, Marion (mom) and Colette 1950


Revelation 21:4 And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes; there shall be no more death, nor sorrow, nor crying. There shall be no more pain, for the former things have passed away.
Oh, Lord, I think the most difficult thing about Mom becoming like a toddler was the learning. With a toddler they do something and then learn – they grab the oven door and it is h-o-t. Maybe next time they will not grab it. With a “dementia toddler” they do toddler things, but do not learn. What was “safe” last week, might have changed again this week and they are in trouble. The safety issues never stop.
I remember the time, in the midst of more MD appointments, you spoke softly and encouraged me to “quit with the testing” and enjoy mom while I could. Oh, the RN in me fought that one. Not go to the neurologist and find out what kind of dementia? Not have that tag or label for our family medical history? Help!
I was able to let go of that. Instead of countless doctor appointments we had lunch at Red Lobster and Golden Corral.  The wait staff knew her by name and even what she would order. Some days she had chocolate and ate desert only. Why not? When you are 86 there ought to be some privileges.
Some days she danced in the foyer as we waited for a table. And some days she even remembered her savior and offered to pray for people we met. “Like a little child and of such is the kingdom of heaven” took on a new meaning. There were also the temper tantrum days. On those days, the Lord showed me how well “toddler diversion tactics” usually worked. Change the subject and get her focus on something else…walla!
We made some beautiful memories. Her fingers, grabbing at the cake, because the fork wasn’t working and was not fast enough for chocolate. Then my trying to wash her with the water glass water and napkin, I knew if she tried to stand up the chair would be a new color chocolate. We’d leave a terrible mess for the wait staff.
I was able to cease being embarrassed and laugh with her. It was a joyful time for the most part.
There were times when she motioned for the manager to come over. A rather plump young man arrived at our table. Mom proceeded to grab his elbow and tell him how very handsome he was. As he turned vivid shades of red, I turned so she couldn’t see and mouthed “dementia” to him and thanked him for coming to our table while assuring him that the food was really good.
She had prayed for years that she would go to be with the Lord very quickly. Her prayers became more fervent after she watched my Dad suffer so much before he passed on.
She couldn’t always remember the words she wanted to use, and “you know” became her favorite pass time. “You know what I mean” with those around her then playing a guessing game to fill in the word or phrase for her. Although she often didn’t remember names (her own included) she never failed to greet me and my sister with a very excited “YES! You’re HERE! Oh, I am so glad to see you!!!”
One day we left her assisted living facility for the restaurant. It became clear that she did not know who I was even after I called her mom.
“Who do you think I am?” I queried.
She sheepishly admitted that she didn’t know.
“Mom,” I asked, “Why in the world did you get into this car with me, if you didn’t know who I was?” I was aghast at the potential safely issues this presented.
Her reply was that I seemed like a really nice lady and she didn’t think that was a problem.
We then had a little discussion about going somewhere with strangers. I was very thankful she was in a locked facility and no one could come or go without the code or the staff letting them through the door. This facility had dedicated and incredible staff.
We never found out which specific dementia she had. We found one med that helped her anxiety and paranoia but not her cognitive processes. The family enjoyed her, building a treasure house of memories her last months on this earth.
The Lord answered her prayer. On the day we had praised Him at World Prayer Center, had a fingers-in-the-chocolate-cake giggle day and she had danced instead of walking, she went to meet her Lord.
They found her in the middle of her room on her knees.
The nurse in me still wonders. I know when someone dies the muscles stop working and the body slumps.  Not Mom. She had left her “shell” quite awhile before the girls did rounds and found her in prayer position with no support. She’d gone to be with her Jesus.
No more pain. No more sickness. No more sorrow. No more tears, and eternity with the Lord Jesus Christ.
We miss you, Mom. But we will see you again!
I will be forever thankful, Lord, that I “quit with the doctor appointments”. Please give her a big hug from us and let her know we miss her and are even a little bit envious.
 (C) Marijo Phelps all rights reserved - use giving proper credit!

Thursday, May 10, 2012

Holiday Mountain Misadventures



Mick and Marijo's Memorial Day Mountain Mishap..subtitle Do the Angels Get Paid Overtime for Working Mountain Duty on a Holiday?


We are off for a much needed hike. Four-bying in the 39 Mile Mountain area, pretty far from any civilization. 



The mountains are awesome, some still snow covered. Some covered with freeze dried tundra, spring and the greening up is late this year. 



We park and Mick points to a straight up area topped by several rock formations. I looked at him with raised eyebrows. He is the mountain goat, I keep up on regular hikes and climbs but he usually does the straight up ones by himself. 



He says, "it will be a short hike but we will get some good cardio exercise" Then he mentioned that right then we are at about 10,000 feet elevation. 



You know what they say about hindsight.
We are going higher and higher on the frozen tundra, grass covered with rocks: pointy, some shale and anywhere from two inch ones to huge. The rocks are mostly only five to six inchers. 



Most of the time, we are going straight up. Hiking sticks helped a bunch. 



Mick is telling me that pretty soon it would level out and, "can you make it to that tree which is laying down?" 



I think the tree is standing up, it is about the terrain we are on. 



Somewhere in there, with the wind blowing so hard that the foot to two foot high wheat colored grasses are laying almost flat out against the soil, I tell him I would wait and he can take the pistol and go on.



He wants to show me a cave he has discovered before. I am dizzy and not sure what was going on, guessing it was the now probably over 11,000 foot altitude. I am hungry or sick and, frankly, griping which is unusual. 



He says, "oh, come on, you can do it". 



About that time I tell him he'd missed his calling and would have made a really good motivator or else a used car salesman.



We finally get to the cave. I pass it to sit on a hillside. It is a little rock outcropping and straight down are about 30 feet of the five to six inchers, solid rock pile. 



The surrounding area is gorgeous some treed, aspens just starting to bud out, evergreens, grassy places. We can see no homes or cars or dogs or people, just blue skies and puffy white clouds. 



The wind gets colder, with quite a bite to it. Pretty soon I decide to go down to where Mick is enthralled with the guano. I wonder, is it bat or pack rat? It is all over the inside of the rock shelter cave. 



I stumble getting up and my walking stick caught me before I pitched over head first into the rock pile. 



Shortly after that we begin to pick our way down the mountainside. Mick is staying close in front of me for my safety. The wind is so bad that the dust and dried grass he kicks up is going into my eyes, in spite of the prescription sun glasses. I ask him to go ahead and say I'll follow farther behind. 



We can see the truck at the bottom and it is the tiniest little Tacoma I have ever seen. I am still a bit dizzy. 



Next thing I know my foot hits a rock and I slip, crying out, landing on both knees with glasses flying one way and the walking stick another. Then I begin to roll. I roll over twice and am thinking if I don't stop it will be all over. I will roll over the mountain/rocks etc. Mick is running back to me and gets there just when I stop. 



"Are you hurt, are you ok, can you move?" 



I am crying and not sure what I am or am not at that point. I move my legs, my knees are very sore but I can move. My elbow hurts and my hand is bleeding but basically I am ok. 



Then Mick begins the guy thing "I can never take you hiking again. You need to make sure one foot is solid before you move the other. You need to watch where you put your foot. I can't carry you down this mountain.. can you walk?" 



We made it back to the truck, it takes a long time too, before we drive off. He sees another four-by road and we go down it. 



Pretty soon Mick is saying, "Are you done hiking for the day?"



At that point he finds himself wearing my hiking stick neatly wrapped around his neck. 



I am asking the Lord if the angels get hazardous duty pay or at least overtime for mountain duty on Memorial Day. AND I am thanking and thanking Him that the glasses aren't broken and neither am I.


(C) Marijo Phelps all rights reserved. Use with with proper credits.