Saturday, December 26, 2015

Tuesday, December 22, 2015

Marvelous Mystery

Alpha and Omega
Who knows
End from Beginning
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.

Creator Came Down



Praises lauded to You

Stable born babe

Universe Creator

Come down


Earth-bound for a time,

A purpose eternal

Perpetual giving Gift,

Freeing, flowing forgiveness


Focused on us

Gratis for the asking

Yet costing You, Jesus

Your very life


So that Living Love

Could fill us,

Overflowing, cleansed

With righteousness of the King.


(C) Marijo Phelps all rights reserved.

Tuesday, December 15, 2015

Gifts from the Heart

“Nooooo, go away, you can’t come in!” I implored my sister, Colette.

“How come? What’s the huge secret?” she asked.

“It is a secret and don’t you dare open my door!”

“Well, fine, I’ve got my own secrets too.” She replied walking across to her room, loudly closing the door.

“Hey you two, I need a little help out here.” Mom called from the kitchen.

I quickly stuffed the doll bed I was making into a drawer. I had used an oatmeal box cut in half lengthwise. Carefully lining it with left over material, I made a little mattress stuffed with cotton. I planned to use my best hanky for a little blanket. This was Christmas for my sister and Nancy, her favorite 8 inch tall Ginny doll.

Dad was an electrician. The TV was on the blink and had been sitting in the basement for months waiting for him to fix it. I personally thought he didn’t care much for TV. Well, the good thing was it gave us more time to be creative. This was good, because money was scarce.

I hurried to the kitchen to help mom. By now we were used to the orange crate cupboards. The house was new but we bought it before it was finished. My Dad worked on it evenings and weekends. We had orange crates, painted and with cute curtains instead of doors, for four years before he had the time and money to make real cabinets.

“Girls, would you like to put some of your allowance towards your dad’s gift? He’d love to get a Jacob’s chuck for his drill.” Mom mentioned to us.

Lately that was all Dad talked about. Looking back I realized it cost hardly anything but was something we girls could help buy and feel proud to present our dad on Christmas.

“Mom, do you still want to get that Electrolux vacuum, the hose on the old one cracked clear through yesterday, more dust went out than in.” I said, thinking how all she’d hinted about for months was that vacuum.

“Oh, I sure hope so.” She said with a twinkle in her eyes.

The doorbell rang, it was Mr Stopple from Stopple Feed and Seed bringing a huge box of delicious apples that Grandpa sent us for Christmas.

Grandpa always seemed pleased, as pleased as his stoic German self could emote, to get home canned goodies and baked goods from us each year. We had a big garden out back, though we lived in the city. Even Inky, the cat had a job to keep the birds off the raspberry bushes. Then we canned and freezer packed produce in the summer heat for weeks. I guess the watermelon pickles, green beans and beets were a gift of love to Grandpa.

In just a few more days it would be Christmas. Dad pulled us aside and swore us to secrecy. He showed us a little Electolux savings bank – it looked just like the vacuum mom wanted. He planned to wrap it…..

Christmas Eve came, Grandpa was there with us. He passed out little envelopes. Colette and I got five dollars each and that was a big deal back in the 1950s. Dad wouldn’t let us see what his contained. Mom showed us later that she got a fifty dollar check. Somehow after Christmas mom took my sis and me shopping. We got a pair of shoes, underwear, a sweater and a new dress! Wonder where her fifty dollars went?

It wasn’t until years later that we found out Grandpa gave Dad a check which covered the mortgage on our modest home for the year. I wonder how many hours of “lawyering” he had to do to earn that. He knew that the folks were paying off doctor bills from my sister’s polio and 9 months in the hospital.

It was Christmas Day! I grabbed the box Colette handed me.

“Colette! When did you do this?” Inside was a bracelet she had made. She used her favorite little heart she’d won at the fair. She made that, just for me and gave me the heart!

Dad gave mom the bank. She looked pretty disappointed when he told her she could save for her Electrolux.

Then he said, ”Ah, Ma, I have one more thing.” From the other room we heard a vacuum turn on.
You just wouldn’t believe the smile on mom’s face as she threw her arms around Dad hugging him close.
(C) Marijo Phelps all rights reserved. Use with proper credits.

Sunday, December 13, 2015



“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 Schacht, 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.
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.
(Thinking back to nurse's training.....)

Thursday, December 10, 2015


THROUGH A SERIES OF ERRORS THAT GOD TURNED FOR GOOD... I AM NOW NOT RENEWING MY REGISTERED NURSING LICENSE WHICH I HAVE HAD SINCE 1969. I am totally ok with this and really think it is an answer to prayer - I have not worked as an RN in 22 years now and have paid several thousand $$$ to keep that license inactive but current. Time to let it go! PRAISING GOD!!!

Monday, December 7, 2015

I Am NOT Becoming My Mother, I Married Her?

I Am NOT Becoming My Mother, I Married Her?

“Cleanliness is next to Godliness…..” Nope, it is not in the Bible, I looked….
My least favorite chore in house cleaning is mopping the floors. I am not quite sure why. Today is floor mopping day, one of our kitties had a big accident and, well, it is definitely time. When my sister and I lived with our parents, we did that chore on hands and knees, no mops used in the household, no, sir.
Mom was, well, my sister and I affectionately called her Mother Immaculate.
SMACK as she wacked the arm of the sofa "This is still dusty, who was supposed to vacuum the living room?" Mom then grabbed the poor little Electrolux with its hoof-like attachment and proceeded to beat-vacuum the whole couch over again.
I looked at my sister, she looked at me and while mom demonstrated the correct vacuum technique our eyes looked slightly towards the ceiling. Slightly and we'd best not get caught.
"There, that's how it is supposed to be done, you girls please finish this up," mom said as she bustled off to the kitchen getting back to her cooking.
The floors on hands and knees we mastered but apparently we were still learning about the sofa beating techniques. We were in grade school.  Our neighborhood was surrounded by hills complete with sand stone caves and playing places. Besides being mama's little helpers we were also the boys dad never had. We went up those hills and played in the sandstone, dust and sand. That meant that some came home with us.  It was making this cleaning day so memorable.
The plus was that dad taught us to use tools and paint.  By the time I was six, I knew enough about hammers and screw drivers to have put together a little stove for our basement playroom. Complete with wooden checkers, screwed into the orange crate, for knobs to turn the burners on and off.
This “chores and lists stuff” wasn't all bad, but you couldn't have told us that back then.
"OK, did you both dust your rooms? " mom was answered by fast moving faces nodding up and down.
"Let's go have a look" Oops.
Was it only in my good imagination or did she really used to don white gloves before inspecting Colette's and my rooms very carefully?
"Hum, Marijo, there is dust on this nick-knack shelf, I want it done over and please do it correctly or this will be subtracted from your allowance."
My sister’s shelf passed but then mom looked under her bed. "What is all of this? These clothes must have been here for a week and should have been in the laundry hamper this morning before I sorted the wash!  Ohhhh, Colette what are we going to do here? You know you aren't allowed to have anything under your bed…"
Colette elbowed me and whispered "At least she didn't find the dust bunnies." 
The battle started. Mom decided to confiscate Colette's underwear and charge her a quarter to get it back . Our allowance was around 50 cents a week, so this was a big deal back then.
"That's ok, you can have them, I'll just turn the dirty ones inside out and wear them." was the solution my inventive sister presented.
Not to be outdone by an eight year old, mom had a new plan. Colette had the small bedroom with the big closet. Dad made a five foot tall drawer stack all down one side of the closet.  The drawers were partitioned off into small compartments to hold socks, underwear, jewelry and organize all those little hair things. Colette also stored all of our board games in her closet.
I got home early the next day and ran in to get something from Colette's room. Oh, my, there must have been a tornado while we were at school. Apparently mom had taken each drawer and dumped it on the bed, on the floor, on the desk. All the board games joined in too, because there were parts and pieces everywhere. I left through her back door, yes, the smallest bedroom had two doors in and out, and circled around through the kitchen.
I heard the front door and in came Colette. Mom followed her down the hall to her room.
"Ahhh, what happened to my room?!" my sister was moaning.
" I thought since you liked to live in a mess, maybe you'd like some help." Mom commented as she left to hang wash outside the house.
We didn't see Colette for several hours. Amazingly it worked. I don't think Mother Immaculate ever found anything under Colette's bed again, not even a dust bunny.
Fast forward. My sister and I are not that bad at housekeeping, really.
I married a wonderful guy. On the weekends, before I retired, we'd clean together. He started upstairs and I started downstairs and we'd meet in the middle.
Then I retired, after an unplanned lay off. It made sense that the house cleaning was all mine now.
I had just finished the downstairs bathroom.  This meant that I had gloves on and scrubbed the toilet bowl, then wiped it down, used the scrub brush and finished with Scrubbing Bubbles and another wipe down. Not to mention mopping the floor on hands and knees, it is a small bathroom and a mop just doesn't do it…..
"Honey, there is butt dust on the toilet…"
"No way, I cleaned that toilet three times and with gloves on, show me…" 
I went into the bathroom and my honey was doing something on the back, where the toilet seat hooked on.  Yep, he'd flipped up a little flap that I did not know existed. There was a screw where the seat attached to the toilet bowl.  Yes, there was some dirt in there. I closed my mouth so the steam wouldn't escape while I bit my tongue. Interesting logistical trick, try it sometime.
"Ah, honey, I didn't even know that little flap was there. You know, there are some Q-Tips in that drawer and if it really bothers you, have at it," I thought that was a mild response considering how the bathroom gleamed.
I married my mother. I can't believe I married Mother Immaculate! At least he likes my cooking!
So why am I taking you down this cleaning travesty trail of reminiscence? I used a mop today but, the floor has to dry, doesn't it?
© Marijo Phelps all rights reserved.

Friday, December 4, 2015

Thursday, December 3, 2015

Cat Photos - Our Favorite Furry Friends!


Have you ever awakened with your heart pounding, looking around in a panic or with heavy feelings that things are not right? Have you ever been really upset and then so relieved to figure out that you were asleep and now you are awake and what you were dreaming about is not real. Maybe it is time to go to the bathroom, whew.

I was having nightmares and the Lord took me through a process.  I was reminded of how Jesus faced temptation by the enemy and how he deals with it. He always used the Word of the Lord to make the enemy stop. “It is written….”

Matthew 4:7

Jesus said to him, “It is written again, ‘You shall not tempt the LORD your God.’”

Matthew 4:6-8 (in Context) Matthew 4 (Whole Chapter) NKJV

Matthew 4:10

Then Jesus said to him, “Away with you, Satan! For it is written, ‘You shall worship the LORD your God, and Him only you shall serve.’”

I used the above idea out loud in prayer before quoting some scriptures before bedtime. NKJV

Philippians 4:7

and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus. NKJV

Philippians 2:5

[ The Humbled and Exalted Christ ] Let this mind be in you which was also in Christ Jesus. NKJV

I prayed that the mind of Christ was in me, whether awake or asleep, and that He was guarding my mind and basically told the enemy he had no right to be there – some other scriptures I quoted were:

Romans 8:1

[ Free from Indwelling Sin ] There is therefore now no condemnation to those who are in Christ Jesus, who do not walk according to the flesh, but according to the Spirit. NKJV

2 Timothy 1:7

For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind

Lastly, I prayed the scripture below and reaffirmed that the mind of Christ was in me and the enemy had no place and I was trusting Jesus to do the rest. NKJV

Philippians 4:8

[ Meditate on These Things ] Finally, brethren, whatever things are true, whatever things are noble, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of good report, if there is any virtue and if there is anything praiseworthy—meditate on these things. NKJV

I was dreaming about people I had wronged before coming to the Lord. I had asked forgiveness, or in some cases was no longer able to contact with the person. The enemy was beating me over the head with condemnation and I would wake up feeling totally condemned. After praying the above, if I had a dream I would wake up and pray for the salvation of those I had nightmares about.  It all stopped really quickly.

Pray about this and see what the Lord opens up for you.

Lord Jesus, I pray that you would be with my sister/brother in a most mighty way.  That you would give her/him peace and sweet dreams. We bind the enemy in the most mighty name of Jesus and by the blood shed for us at Calvary.  Your mind is in us, while we are awake and asleep. Lord we love you.  Please set us free from the torment of the enemy.

Psalm 4:8

I will both lie down in peace, and sleep; For You alone, O LORD, make me dwell in safety. NKJV

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