Paula Deen

There was a black guy and a white guy.

They were debating over whether God was white or black.
The white guy said that there was only one way to find out and that is to
pray.
So they go up on a hill and they pray, and pray, and pray.
Finally they hear a voice say, “I am that I am.”
The white guy jumps up, and says, “Aha, I told you he was white.”
The black guy jumps up and says, “What do you mean? That didn’t prove
anything.”
“Yes it did. Because if he was black he would’ve said I is what I is.”

If the last line of this old joke sounds familiar, it's because it was said by Paula Deen during her Today Show interview in which she was defending herself against accusations of racism.  Apparently, a quoting a racist joke seemed the best way to make her point.
Huh.
As a conservative Christian,  most of the folks in my immediate circle have come to Paula's defense about one little word said "25 years ago."  Guess what?  I've never said ni**er.  Ever.  You know why?  Because I don't curse and that word is the highest form of cursing.  It sickens me.  Only 25 years ago?  Sorry Paula, 25 years ago, we all knew better.  You only said ni**er 25 years ago if you were a raving bigot. 
Right around 25 years ago, I was telling people that if they used that word, or "colored" in reference to people of color, I would minimize their exposure to my children.  Kids can say lots of unpleasant things as they test boundaries but had either of my boys used the word ni**er, it would've earned them a slap across the face.  Thankfully, that was never needed.
I read Ms. Deen's transcript, wherein she talks about having used the word ni**er to describe a man who held up a bank at which she worked and she "wasn't feelin' very favorable toward him."  So I guess, that explains it?  Not in my world it doesn't.  In my world, that word has to be a part of your vocabulary for it to come out of your mouth.  Out of the fullness of our hearts, our mouths speak (Matthew 12:34.) 
Let me share a personal experience, a few years ago my son was attacked and seriously injured by an African American young man.  I never referred to his attacker as a ni**er.  Not when I was on the phone with him and he was unable to string a sentence together.  Not when we were in the emergency room and he fell apart.  Not when he kept asking me where his truck was and we were driving in it.  Not when I realized he had no memory of his grandfather's funeral.  Not for the entire three weeks it took him to be able to work again. 
Her deposition shared her love of the old South and the experience of black servants serving white people in a beautiful setting.  That isn't a beautiful setting in my mind, it's the picture of cruelty beyond my comprehension.  It's like saying one loves images of the country side through which rail cars filled with Jews were traveling during World War II.  Not, it's more sickening, because it is a part of American history.
In the transcript, Ms. Deen states that all the men she knows use the word ni**er.  I say she knows the wrong men, in fact, I'd say she knows very few real men.
Are all of these corporations wrong for dropping Ms. Deen?  I guess we all have our own opinions and we want to call upon forgiveness and grace.  Of course, criminals who apologize still pay a penalty, do they not?  And her penalty is an interruption in her multi million dollar business. 
If you want a glimpse into Paula Deen's heart, read her autobiography where she describes herself as "a bawdy lady?  F**k yeah!"  Does that f-word offend you?  She talks about a years long affair with a married man.  She's not a nice lady.  She's not a sweet old Southern grandma. 
She's a nasty, immoral and apparently, racist woman.
By the way, she repeats her self-description as a "f**king bawdy lady" in her deposition. 
I think she's made it quite clear where her heart is.  Forgive her?  Sure.  I didn't need her to ask.  But that doesn't mean she will have my support in the form of my money.  Someday, maybe Ms. Deen will share the testimony of repenting before Christ for all of the deeds, attitudes and words that have grieved Him.  When that day comes, I might just become a follower.
A final thought, since Paula Deen so loves images of the old south...

Rhett Butler to Scarlett O'Hara:

"You're like the thief who isn't the least bit sorry he stole but is terribly terribly sorry he's going to jail."

1.  Fell asleep at 8:00 last night, up at 4:30 this morning.
2.  3 graduation parties and one baby shower this weekend.
3.  Promised the staff at work chocolate chip cookies, need to bake 'em now or I won't have time.
4.  I don't feel like pulling weeds.  Is it Fall yet?
5.  The Mr. sent me flowers at work yesterday, first time ever!
6.  I had the bed linens change by 5:30 a.m.
7.  Muggy out already.
8.  Middle age means wearing shorts even with chubby white legs.
9.  The Mr.'s on shut down, yippee!
10.  There's a very good chance I'm going to unplug from the computer a whole lot during the summer.

Happy birthday Sweet Baby Jay!

Real fathers

It is easier for a father to have children than for children to have a real father.

Pope John XXIII

A True Story

So this morning I jumped out of bed in a panic as I remembered that I was the only nurse manager working today!!  My two co workers were both on vacation days as was my boss.  Yikes!  I shot a quick e mail to my boss that I had forgotten everyone else was off (one of my peers is the early start at 6:30) but I was getting going and on my way ASAP.  I got to work at 7:30 and went straight to the staffing office because the nurse staffing coordinator is also on vacation. 
I called every unit to let them know I was there if they needed anything.
I rounded through the entire hospital letting everyone know to give me a call if there were any problems.
I did payroll reconciliation, staffing for all three shifts today, tomorrow and Sunday.
I created staffing sheets to be posted for the off shift.
I checked in with all of the doctors, created and forwarded the weekend admission/discharge and staffing projections.
I completed the budget productivity report for the first half of June.
I checked in on all the units again.
I reviewed interviews for nurses and disposition ed my recommendations to human resources.
I called everyone in the directory to sign them up for open shifts for the next three days.
At about 2:00 p.m., I sent an e mail to the other nurse managers updating them on my (rather impressive) progress during my day on my own.  I told them to enjoy their days off and their weekend.  No worries, I have this all in control!  I didn't even take a lunch!  My left shoe fell apart, I didn't leave to go buy a new pair!  I can't leave the hospital unattended!  I had a pair of tennis shoes in my car which I put on with my dress casual business wear!
Did I mention my sister had a meeting at my hospital this morning?  Did I have a cup of coffee, shoot the breeze, go out for a bagel with her?  No!  I am responsible for the entire hospital!
At about 2:15, one of the managers I was covering e mailed back that one of her staff was willing to work a double.  "Turn off your email!"  says I!  "I've got this, stop working and enjoy your day!"
"But, I'm in my office."
"Huh?"  says I.  "I thought you and Wendy were off today!"
"Nope, she's in her office too.  We were just saying how quiet it's been today."
Good grief! 
I'm exhausted.

Retirement plans~

We've been shifting into high gear financially so that when the time comes, we are ready for retirement.  This has meant that I've had to seriously consider the "some day" plans I had and decide if they were worth keeping on the list and working into our budget.  Most of them were not. 
I've heard people say that as one gets older, one doesn't need as much.  I'm finding that to be true and to be unfolding quickly in my own life.  Little things like going to the movies don't capture my attention, dinner in restaurants just isn't as satisfying as at our own table.  The Mr. has promised me a new diamond for our 30th anniversary in a few years and just last week, I looked down at my hand and realized, I don't need another ring. 
We have Mac to get through school and then he'll be out on his own.  Empty nesters with simple desires, that's what we'll be. 
Bit by bit, we've planted our yard with perennials and every year our outside budget gets a little smaller because of the progress we've made.  I can't think of any furniture I am hoping for and as for my home, all of the daydreams I have involve little more than paint and maybe some cute new curtains. 
And then, as though to confirm His hand on us, the other day the Lord brought a reminder to me.  Driving to work, the pastor I was listening to spoke about ensuring financial stability by giving to God.  No, this isn't news to me but it immediately caught my attention.  Yes!  We need to invest more in the kingdom!  That was the missing part of the puzzle, the mysterious something I couldn't solve that had me a little worried about our future finances.  Just give it to God, all of it, everything penny.  It's all His anyway.  Sometimes I forget that.  Instead of looking for places to cut corners or developing the discipline of saving or trying to navigate investment and retirement plans, we will put that money into ministries that will reach the world.
That, friends, is a retirement plan that is recession proof.

Thinking...

1.  Feeling very tempted to shorten my hair significantly
2.  I need to get my salad garden planted.
3.  I have many many ideas about the front of my house.
4.  I am pretty much sick of cramps.
5.  Every morning on my way to work, I fight the urge to drive to Fairlane manor and spend the day hiding there.
6.  CRAMPS!  Sorry, I just needed to vent a bit more.
7.  I am not a fan of hot weather, but I wouldn't mind a little less November in my June.
8.  The Mr. bought me an orchid.  Good grief, what am I gonna do with an orchid?
9.  I have needed hairspray for two weeks and can't find the motivation to go to any store that carries hairspray.  Now, if garden nurseries carried hair spray, I'd be all set.
10. Relative to numbers four and six, I am giving Clary sage a try.

Lavender Oil

You can follow our clean-eating journey on my other blog, link to the right.  But dietary changes aren't the only thing I'm learning about and experimenting with as I move closer to 50 than to 40 years of age.  There are ways we need to start curbing our finances to bring the opportunity for retirement closer.  And there are other health concerns that our generation (those of us living in the world today,) may need to consider that have not been on the minds of previous people.  GMOs, processed foods, chemicals from every direction and not enough years gone by to know what the effect will be.  And, dealing with it all in a way that makes us healthier, not that adds more potential danger. 
Along these lines, I am blessed to be one of a group called The Scarf Sisters (link also at right,) and among them, a friend we call Mrs. Mac.  She has shared home remedies and natural responses to common problems that have made it easier for me because she's done the leg work :) 
Which brings us to my latest interest, essential oils.  Last weekend I took advantage of this electronic information age that I often dislike and ordered lavender, Clary sage and orange oil along with sweet almond as a carrier oil.  Mrs. Mac, among others, recommended trying the lavender for my lifelong insomnia.  I saw a physician about my lack of sleep a year or so ago, it was decided I needed additional testing but that there was some kind of neurological hiccup causing it since it's been going on basically since birth.  I was given a short term prescription of a sleep aid to try to knock me back on track, no luck.  I've taken 100 mg of Benadryl over ten hours and never fallen asleep.  I never followed up on the additional sleep studies because frankly, I'm not sure what I'd do with the information?  The end game would be identifying which medication would fix the problem and I don't know that I want to add medication to my life if I can avoid it.  Although it's taken me a while, last night I finally tried the lavender oil idea.
Following the information online, I mixed about ten drops of the lavender essential oil (essential lavender oil?) with about an ounce of sweet almond oil in a small glass bowl.  I put it in the corner of the shower so it could be picked up in the steam and after my shower, I used the mixture as a body moisturizer.  When I went to bed, I used a cotton pad I had soaked in the lavender oil mixture and put it in my pillow case as a sachet.  If it seems like that a lot of lavender, well, I spend a lot of time wide awake! 
I do realize that my wakefulness is strongly tied to a brain that won't stop so I was careful to breathe deeply, center my mind on Jesus and peacefulness and turning off the thoughts that are stressful or even energizing in a good way.  Results?  Interesting!  Yes, I slept.  It is not my worst insomnia time, that's linked closely to my cycle so the true test is coming soon.  There are three categories of sleep disturbance:  trouble falling asleep (yes,) trouble staying asleep (yes,) early wakening (yes.)  I did not fall asleep quickly, I did not stay asleep and I woke up early after my lavender therapy.
Number one, I believe that using lavender to help with sleep is not going to be like taking a sedative.  My mind and body will need some time to respond fully to the properties of the oils and fragrance so it will take a while to have a real grasp on the efficacy of it.   However, I fell asleep in about an hour and during that hour my mind was quiet and peaceful instead of racing and fretful.  I often have heart palpitations while trying to fall asleep and I did not have them last night.  I still awakened several times but I was able to breathe in deeply and slowly and fell back to sleep pretty quickly.  When I woke up, I did feel rested.  And my skin is very soft :)
I know many people have great success with lavender for sleep so I'm confidant this will be a healthy addition to my life over time and if not, I'll let you know what I've discovered.  Some basics I've learned in my few days of essential oil use?

• It's not as expensive as you might think.  A small vial of essential oil will go a long long way.
• You need an essential oil and a carrier oil.  I ordered sweet almond but you can Google "carrier oil" and get a long list including olive oil.
• There are essential oils you can ingest and those you can't, pay attention to what you're ordering and make sure it suits your needs.
• Essential oils have a very "natural" and pure scent which I have always loved.  If you've been to a spa, you know what I mean.  It is not the perfume smell you find with commercial scents. 
• People with allergies and sensitivities may or may not react to the fragrance of essential oils, don't rule them out but proceed cautiously.

Lighthouse

It's 8:40 p.m. on Memorial Day evening.  The Mr. has already gone to bed after a late night on Sunday visiting with his cousins.  4:30 a.m. will come early for him.  Donny is happily chewing on a steak bone and I've just come inside.  It started out as a cool and sunny morning and proceeded to a cold and rainy day.  I was a little disappointed, I had just a few finishing touches planned for the yard but the weather drove me inside.  
Anyway, I just came back out.  I let the dog out one last time for the evening and decided to take one final look at the progress of the weekend.  I should've taken my camera out for a few rain shots but I was too distracted with appreciating the uninvited rain.  The flower and plants, which always look a little sad immediately after planting, are already perking up.  They remind me of little faces turned up to receive a cool drink.  The dirt that got tracked across walkways and driveway is washed away and the ground has that well soaked and healthy look, do you know what I mean?  The Mr. and I ran to the store earlier this afternoon for a few bags of soil with the hopes that the skies would clear up for a bit and while there, we picked up something that wasn't on the list.  It's a lighthouse.  Yard art I guess?  Supposed to be solar lit but I'm not sure there was enough sunlight today to activate it.  I'm not usually one for statues and the like in the yard, but when I saw it in passing, I went back to look again. And again.  And then I showed it to the Mr. who felt just exactly like I did and into the cart it went.  We had plans to pick up a shrub for the berm to replace the one I transplanted but the lighthouse was "planted" in the spot instead.  So I have been standing on the back porch being very glad that we brought that lighthouse home.  It reminds me of our Michigan vacations Up North, our anniversary trip to Traverse City where we visited lighthouses on the peninsulas.  And of course, it reminds me of that old song...and I thank God for the lighthouse...
I tip toed across the wet driveway and between the raindrops to check out my reading patio and found the rain hadn't blown under the awning there.  So I sat for about ten minutes with my jacket wrapped tight around me and thought to myself, the rain is good.  The only time it isn't good is when it brings the destruction of floods.  Today it came to water the plants that I would have had to water myself.  How silly of me, to want a sunny day that requires paying for water instead of welcoming the gift of rain!  A little late perhaps, but I welcomed it this evening.
Donny was sitting under a tree in a tiny sheltered spot of dry grass watching the rain fall as I sat on my reading patio doing the same.  We headed back inside to wind down our day, with another peek at that sweet lighthouse. 
Now the quiet house is cleaned and straightened, dinner dishes washed and everything in its place.  Tomorrow we go back to work and maybe the sun will be shining, the irony of a day off in the rain not lost on me despite my late found pleasure in it.
I know when I sit on the back porch with my coffee, that lighthouse will be there.  And when we come home, there it still will be.  I hope every time I look at it, I remember that there is a Light in the gray rain that seems to change our plans, but really spills life into thirsty places.

I held on to this post until I could get enough sunshine for a good picture of our lighthouse...it took me a week!

On the yard list~

Last week during the hour we had without rain!

1.  River rock for the berm
2.  Fountain (old one didn't survive the winter)
3.  Container garden for veggies
4.  Hang blinds on back porch
5.  Hang blinds in garage windows
6.  New flag for front and back porch
7.  Lights around my reading patio
8.  Hanging baskets of flowers or ferns
9.  Landscaping around the deck, forsythia?  lilacs? hydrangeas? peonies?
10. Plant the flat of moss roses I already bought

Dreading working is worse than actually working, who knew?

And also that every man should eat and drink, and enjoy the good of all his labor, it is the gift of God.

Ecclesiastes 3:13

The other day, I dreaded cleaning the kitchen for (no joke) two hours.  Then I got up and did it. It took 15 minutes. There's a lesson in there somewhere.

Almost weary~

Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.  Galatians 6:9

As you may recall, I decided that instead of another year of frustration with the Mr. for not being a yard guy, I was going to become a yard woman.  This after the Holy Spirit gently convicted me of choosing to be offended rather than to be reconciled to my situation.  So off I went to pick up some flowers and supplies, which the Mr. kindly loaded into and out of my truck for me.  I spent hours and hours working around the yard.  Making myself move slowly, which is something I don't generally do.  My own habit of trying to rush is most of what wears me out.  The Lord was showing me to enjoy my yard work, to let it soothe me and to let him work quietly in my heart while I worked quietly in my yard.  I took breaks to sit back with a glass of iced water and enjoy the birds and the sunshine and the breeze.  I played tennis ball with Donny, I arranged and rearranged my pots of flowers and herbs before planting them.  Roughly eight hours of this pace and multiple whispered "Slow down" reminders, and most of my work was done.  Of course, it's remarkable how much one can still see to be done, but I chose not to linger in those kind of discouraging thoughts.  This was for me, for my good as well as my enjoyment.  Jesus and me.
The Mr. is still the heavy lifter and general maintenance guy around here, so after my long day he came home to mow the lawn.  And here is where my attitude was tested.  He mowed and then used the blower and to my dismay, blew debris back into all of those beds I had painstakingly weeded and cleared.  A few spots I had actually cleared of grass to create a bed.  The little reading patio I had swept and cleaned and set a chair in?  Covered in lawn clippings right down to my reading chair.  Goodness, my heart quickly changed from content to anger.  And even, to tears.  I didn't really expect applause because part of the lesson I'm learning is that this is something I want, not Dean.  But to be sabotaged? Well, anyway, that's what it felt like ;)
I contained myself as much as I could and asked him to stop blowing, that he was blowing messes back into areas I had worked hard to clear.  If you're thinking that this is where he apologizes and cleans the mess?  It isn't.  Nope, his response was "I had to mow the lawn."  I felt completely devalued.  I stayed feeling that way over night.
The next morning I got up with my cup of coffee and went to my reading patio.  I brushed off my chair, swept up the clippings and sat down to sulk some more.  The beautiful herb garden and butterfly patch were no longer pristine and bright,  as you can see in yesterday's pictures.  I threw another log of resentment on my heart's fire as I sat there.  I thought of what to say and how to say it and even, how to insist that he clean up the mess he made of my hard work.  Then I figured, it's no use having this argument so I might as well just throw in the towel. The Holy Spirit, however, had other plans.
"This is between you and I, all of this.  It's none of Dean's."
So, I didn't realize the depth of this lesson of the yard work.  I thought it was to step up and work for what I wanted on my own.  But it's not, at least not all together, that simple.  It's also to be patient.  It's to move slowly and purposefully and to look beyond the grass clippings and still see the sweet little herbs pushing up between the stones.  It's to see what is temporary (the mess) and what is not (the plants.)  It's to forgive and to not make my own efforts more important than someone else's.  It's to become gracious of spirit and to work for something greater than bragging rights and pride.  It's to create a thing that is the Lord's and mine, and to realize that no one can really and truly tarnish it. 
It's even ok to sit on my reading patio and cry just a little, to let God soothe me and to move on. 
Just as I was breathing in comfort and forgiveness, I noticed Dean dragging an extension cord across my fairy garden and knocking it all over.
And God, it seems, is not quite finished with this lesson, she said with a smile instead of with tears.

Doing my own gardening~



Window box hanging on the back porch deck.




Lilies just about to burst into bloom!



Container garden of herbs.

Red, white & blue petunias in my Grampa's old cement planters.

My poor lilac bush!  It was just about to burst into huge lilacs but the cold nights sort of stopped it short.  Maybe next year.

Last year I threw one peppermint and one spearmint in the ground here because I had no where else to put them.  Now I have a mint field!  These babies are being transplanted this year before they take over.

Adding ground cover perennials to the berm.

The berm.

Old water pump the Mr. bought me at an antique shop Up North, my grandparents' old cement chickens from The Farm and petunias in an old camp coffee pot found in the basement.

Cuteness!

Gazebo for gnome weddings and such.

'Shroom House.

Petunias at the bottom of the back porch steps.



Can't recall the name of this little guy but his twin didn't survive the winter on the berm so he was transplanted to this container. 




My very humble little reading patio on the "Farm side" of the yard, herb garden, butterfly garden and berry patch on the far side.



Looks like a mess but it's actually a berry patch; strawberries, blueberries and raspberries!

My grampa's old cement bird bath basin.  The base was knocked over and broken by the yard guy after my grampa passed.  It's so old, can't find a base to match so I settled it in the cracks of the patio bricks as a bird bath/butterfly bath.

Butterfly garden in progress!

Can anyone identify this species of butterfly?

The view from my reading patio on the "Farm side."  See the grape arbor behind the tree?

Looking to the left from my reading patio, my replacement cement birdbath in the distance where my grampa's used to stand.

"House side" of the yard, view from the back porch.

Weird butterfly again.

Fairy garden!

I spent hours these last few days working in the yard.  Pictures of that will come along with future posts.  Today, however, is about something much more fun than hauling wheel barrows of dirt around.  Fairy gardens!
A few years ago, I ran across this sweet story.  I'm a sucker for whimsical storybook stuff.  Never outgrew the little girl laying in the top bunk reading her life away I suppose.  Closer to 50 than to 40, I still read children's books!  Someday when I have grandchildren, this will seem "normal."  In the meantime, I have a very imaginative inner child.  And so, fairy gardens.


Susan!



This is Mac's girl Susan and I have taken advantage of her girly nature and the fact that she has a five year old little sister & talked her into planting a fairy garden with me.  Turns out, daboyz weren't interested.  So off we went to Joann's to hunt for fairy garden supplies and found everything we needed to start our project.  Oh my goodness, this is one of the most fun hobbies ever!  At least if you're inner seven year old is demanding attention *grin*.  Let me give a little disclaimer as I know some folks are a bit disturbed by the fairy part of fairy gardening because of the rise in the Wiccan religion.  This is not a reflection of an actual belief in fairies or worship of nature.  It's just a charming miniaturized garden that someday those aforementioned grandchildren will be enthralled with.  Sort of like dollhouses, which also call out to me (maybe a winter time project?)  From start to finish, we spent less than 30 minutes arranging and planting our tiny garden and if you ask me, it's adorable.

Cute, right?  The 'shroom house and gazebo are simply birdhouses we picked up at Joann's and removed the hanging ropes.  We glued moss to the roof of the gazebo.  The live plants are ground cover and the moss is packaged for indoor or outdoor projects (I want to pick up some live moss, Lowe's didn't have any.)  It's hard to see the detail but the shrubs are miniature fake bushes and the gnomes are resin.  The frogs are Susan's Inspirational Frogs, if you look closely their flower pots say faith, hope, love.  Oh, and here's a view that shows you the picket fence~

Fairy gardens are all over the Internet and Pinterest if you are truly interested.  They can be planted in beds, like we did, or in containers.  You can spend a lot of money on this little hobby, like all hobbies.  We started off with about a $40 investment but you could spend much less.  After we planted it, I went on Amazon and spent $10 more on a cement bird bath, bench for the gazebo (at my mom's request,) and a tiny red tin bucket.  Not only is this charming and whimsical for your inner child, or an actual child should you have one ;) but it's a way to garden without the physical work-out of human sized gardening.  You could even plant a little container garden inside your home! 

Some people are just not wired for the world of imaginary villages and fairy tales.  They'll think this is pretty silly.  Which is fine because silliness is a very important aspect of enjoying life if you ask me!  As for me, it's just fun. 

Don't be surprised if this little garden keeps growing into a village!



How does my garden grow?

1. Lavender
2. Orange mint
3. German tyme
4. Phlox
5. Purple coneflower
6. Bee balm
7. Lemon verbena (which always reminds me of Laura Ingalls)
8. Lemon balm
9. Forsythia
10. Hosta

Plus a buncha other purty stuff!

At home~

Well-being is washing over me this morning.  It's crisp and cool here in the Mitten, although bright and sunny.  It's a kind of morning I think of as particularly "Michigan," although I'm sure people everywhere have the same.  All that's missing is the smell of a campfire, which I will remedy shortly when I go out to do a little bit of yard time. 
It's mornings like these that I'm especially glad that I live where I do, my house I mean.  There are moments when I'm trying to cram something into our too small closets, when there's no perfect place to house our computer or I long for a master bathroom.  All of these are issues that come along with a post war bungalow.  Newer homes certainly provide more amenities, no doubt about it.  But this morning, I wouldn't live anywhere else, unless it was The Farm.  There are certain days when somehow, this old house has even the smell of history and home.  Do you know what I mean?  A scent of my gramma's perfume, of the wooden structure beneath the plaster walls and even of my grampa's cigarettes.  Those are the moments, especially on crisp and bright mornings, when I feel at home in all the ways that at home is right and good.
This past week, a friend with whom we once attended church passed away.  She was 40, 4 kids ages 4-19 and married to her high school sweet heart.  She had breast cancer, and after years of fighting, the Lord's will was done and she moved from one home to another.  When I heard the news, I sat and cried.  And cried some more.  It seemed like such a deep sadness, loss and even waste of life.  I knew she didn't have long before being called to heaven and yet, when it happened, it was somehow shocking. 
I hope that this morning, her precious family is awakening to the embrace of being at home.  I hope they can find her scent on the air.  I pray that they feel every wonderful detail of the home she made for them before she went truly home.  Because after all, these glimpses of home sweet home are like appetizers for those born in Christ.  It's a taste, a peek, a prologue of being at home. 
This morning, a 40 year old mom is awake forever with her spirit at perfect rest.  Can you imagine the fragrance of heaven?  Can you envision the beauty she sees?
When I have these moments, of being at home, I need to remember that this isn't really home after all. That there is a place for me that is all at once, everything I need or want or desire.  It is filled with every scent that means at home to me, it is a soul so completely at peace that there is no more need for sleep.  It's an eternal awakening to a perfect morning.
It's home.