My Non-Garden

Last year I didn’t even pretend to have a garden. This year the intention was present but the carry-through has been lacking.

Three or four years ago Dean purchased a stock tank and filled it with dirt so that I could have a raised garden bed . Thus far I have raised some carrots, one extremely health green bean plant (it’s a mystery as to where the other seeds went) and a lovely tomato plant

The plants you see pictured here are the sole “fruit” of a package of spinach seeds sown at the beginning of June. 

There is a certain area of this “raised garden bed” that is akin to the Bermuda Triangle where the planes and ships mysteriously disappear. Both this year and two years ago, the seeds I planted just vanished. Perhaps I should check the bottom of the stock tank in case the seeds have migrated in that direction???

I was telling my brother about my tomato plant not yet planted as it seems to be doing perfectly well sitting on the kitchen counter. The first of June we were having freezing temperatures and the temperatures at the end of June soared into triple digits. He suggested that instead of calling it a patio tomato, I label it a counter tomato.  

I may yet plant it in one of these half barrels (more of Dean’s answer to my plea for a raised garden bed), but not in the one pictured as it contains the “bones” of a lovely rhubarb start that a friend gave me as well as a package of peas that I planted. Again—no sign of life. Seems to have caught the idea from the Bermuda Triangle stock tack.

ALL of my relatives, alive or dead, would be wondering where my gene pool went wrong. They were/are all decent, even world class gardeners  As for me, the green thumb stops here with a distinctly blackened hue.

Royalties are exciting!

Hooray! Hooray! Thanks to my friends and family members purchasing THE WOMEN WHO KNEW HIM, I am able to send a donation to my first choice of the mission organizations I am interested in.         

Sometime late in my writing of the book, I chanced to read about a  Christian author connected with Stonehouse Ink, a new Christian publishing company in the Boise area.  In her bio this author mentioned that a major portion of her proceeds from book sales would go to a particular charitable organization.

I had been toying with an idea along that line, so the bio provided the impetus to my decision. I didn’t want to list a percentage on the book cover, but I decided I would contribute 90% of the royalties from THE WOMEN WHO KNEW HIM to reputable mission organizations starting with Samaritan’s Purse. I figured I could trust the Lord to eventually amass the remaining 10% to cover the costs I have paid editors, etc.

I wanted to be able to send a check for at least $100 and I am now able to do that, thanks to my readers! So many thanks to you all, and Samaritan’s Purse will also be grateful.

Friends

Friendship is sort of a blah word for opening a blog, but it is a commodity (not sure about my semantics here) that is priceless. I went to a wedding this afternoon and sat by friends I hadn’t seen for at least two or three years. Yet we picked up the thread of communication as if we had seen each other a mere week ago.

A family we first met in Laramie, Wyoming more than 25 years ago came  by and stayed a couple of nights with us on their way to Yellowstone. They not only ministered to us by their mere presence, but they showed caring in a very concrete fashion. Steve mowed our yard and drove Dean’s pickup full of lilac bush trimmings (which another local friend had trimmed for us) to the dump. Nancy took me shopping (which is a treat because I need a female with good vision for such forays). Plus she made a batch of her famous pimento cheese spread besides all the other goodies she brought with her.

 

We celebrated their visit by visiting one of Nancy’s favorite Basque restaurants. Their visit was a welcome break in our daily sometimes tedium.

I think God smiled when he came up with the idea of friends since He included some friends’ stories in the Bible: David and Jonathan, Paul and Dr. Luke, and the men who brought their friend to Jesus for healing in a most unique fashion (they made a hole in the house roof and lowered their friend down into the middle of the assembly).

I am certainly thankful for all the friends who faithfully pray for us on this surprising journey with cancer. So this blog is dedicated to you all!

Wedding Anniversary Celebration

Forty-five years ago this past Sunday, Patti Johnson and Dean Diehl got married during one of the most humid days of that Northeastern Missouri summer. 

Who likes to sweat when you want everything to look perfect? So we didn’t celebrate that memory.

Dean got ready to go to church last Sunday morning and just felt so tired he said, “I don’t think I want to try to get out today.” (That was a “little did we know” situation since he was back in the hospital with pneumonia  by the next Wednesday.)

That wasn’t a celebration moment either.

By that time I was running even later than usual so I pushed the button for the garage door opener, heard it raise, got in my Trooper, backed up—and Crash!!  The garaged door had malfunctioned again, raising only high enough to catch the edge of my roof.

With the sound of  screeching metal, I drove the only direction that seemed feasible—forward. And of course, the door refused to move either up or down—after all, it was injured!

My exhausted hubby wanted to know what all the ruckus was about and decided he could work some magic with the electric-eye box on the garage ceiling if I would put the stepladder in place. I held on to his waistband as he shakily climbed up two steps on the ladder and decided where he needed to hike the power. After seeing him safely settled on his step, I went to the opposite wall and pushed the opener-button in hopes that the door would open so that I could get my vehicle out.

With great groaning and clankings, it did so. I helped Dean off the ladder and back into his easy chair and I drove off to church thinking, “I REALLY want to cry, Lord. Please don’t let me cry. It’s not a pretty sight to see old ladies cry.”

The Lord was gracious. No tears and I even managed to worship which was why I was at church in the first place. But I have to say, that whole episode was not in any way a celebration.

Lunch time came and our celebratory meal was a grilled cheese sandwich for me (my favorite meal item on “cheat day”) and Ramen for Dean because his mouth and tongue had still not healed up from the last chemo treatment.

Not an especially celebratory menu BUT the salivating part came with the rhubarb pie I made using some of the wonderful fruit my friend, Allison, had given me. Now Dean loves rhubarb pie and despite the great pain in his mouth, he ate two pieces of that pie!                   

The actual celebration of our 45 years together cameas we realized that last year at this time, we didn’t know whether there would be an anniversary to celebrate. Dean started his first chemo treatment about this time last year and the doctor wasn’t very optimistic.

“It’s a fast-growing cancer,” he said. By July and CT scan time, the cancer gurus were beginning to wonder if they had mis-read the biopsy results. And here we are, together today. Thank you, Lord. That’s something to celebrate!                                               

   

But I'm Not a Nurse!!

A week ago Thursday I was muttering the above-mentioned words to myself, followed by, “I really need to be one.”

That day was “bottom out day” for Dean’s immune system as he had had another chemo infusion the previous Thursday. We expected a total lack of energy but we didn’t expect what happened.

He ate a healthy breakfast (we had been grateful that his appetite had improved a lot over the past month), but when I checked on him at 11 AM, he said, “My chest is freezing.” As before, that was my cue to fetch the microwave pad, warm it up, and on his chest it would go.

He was still chilled at lunch and ate next to nothing. When I checked on him at 2:30, he was telling me he was too weak to get out of his chair and still cold. I reached for the microwave pad but “accidentally” thought to feel his forehead. He was burning hot.

          

I ran to get the thermometer and then left it under Dean's tongue as I dialed the Elko Clinic. The line was busy so I went back to check the thermometer and he had coughed it out onto his lap. I tried reading it. That was a sick joke with my poor vision and since Dean was somewhat delirious by this time, he couldn't read it either.

Much against his will, I called the ambulance to take him to the ER as he couldn’t walk to the car. He was admitted with a fever of 104 and eventually, his blood test revealed that his white blood cell count was “in the basement” at 0.4. He had a slight case of pneumonia but of course couldn’t fight it off on his own so he was given antibiotics. Then his blood pressure aimed for the bottom of the barrel. (Lots of lows that night.)

All that excitement was my reason for not posting a blog last week. Don’t know why I should have been tired, as all I did was sit there (and pray for that fever to go down—which it did by the time Dean was taken to a room).

I remember feeling quite depressed Saturday morning because I had not been able to reach/see the doctor and Dean didn’t seem to be making much progress.

I have been “inching” my way through the book  of Psalms and Saturday morning I was at chapter 94. When I read verses 18 and 19, I knew it was no accident I was reading that chapter at that particular time. The NKJV reads--"If I say, 'My foot slips,' your mercy, O Lord, holds me up. In the multitude of my anxieties within me, Your comforts delight my soul." I sure felt like my foot had slipped and the anxieties were definitely making themselves known. The Lord is so gracious to us in our needy times.

When I got to the hospital that morning, Dean’s BP was back up to normal and the WBC count had increased a bit but still had a ways to go. He was released from the hospital about 6:30 PM on Monday so now we are back at working on the appetite increase.  And I will definitely be checking the man’s forehead for fever when he tells me his chest is cold!

Dilemma or Delight?

This week we came to the end of Beth Moore's book, "Beloving God" and although this idea wasn't directly mentioned in it, this question emerged in my mind.

Before I state the question, here's the the background. I have suffered with headaches even as a small child. From studies I've read about headaches, those early headaches probably were due to food allergies. As the years progressed, the headaches continued, following no pattern, but no doubt at times due to hormonal upsets, lack of a proper rest, neck injuries (I slipped on an icy sidewalk one winter and gave myself a whiplash), etc. (Believe it or not, no hangovers.)

Now, my question is this: I know and believe that it is scriptural to praise/thank God in all things (not "for") but in  all things, and I would take that to include times when my head and neck would just as soon have been removed to my heavenly home (along with the rest of me).

I don't think I have been bitter against God because my head hurt but only until I have come out on the other side of my headache, do I remember that I didn't manage to praise Him, anyway. Hence my question--why can't I remember to praise Him at such times? I'm certainly not able to do much else worthwhile when a migraine hits.

The Lord very graciously answered my question  the next day as I read a weekly e-mail newsletter from a missionary in Kenya. She had come down with a case of flu complicated by a sinus infection. Then her husband caught the bug and as they were commiserating over their dilemma, God brought to their memory a scripture passage they had read before the flu hit: 2 Chronicles, chapter 20.

The middle of verse 6 says "in Your hand is there not power and might." At the end of verse 12 says "our eyes are upon You" and the end of verse 17 we read,"Don't be dismayed, for the Lord is with you."

The whole key to being able to praise God in all things, is to keep our focus on Him, not the dismal circumstances/dilemma of the moment, be they dealing with a flu bug, sinus infection, or a migraine. And, of course, our satanic enemy is delighted when all we can see is the dilemma we find ourselves in. rather than keeping our eyes on God, Who is ever with us, and Who wins the "battle" every time.

The story in 2 Chronicles is about one of those impossible battles where humanly speaking, the Israelites didn't have a chance. But God's powerful action on Israel's behalf is just as real and active today for us.

I can't promise myself from this point on that I'll be able to do more than moan when a headache hits, but I really do think at some point, I'll remember this scripture and direct my eyes toward the Great Physician instead of focusing on my pain and discomfort. That means the dilemma can become a delight. Sounds good to me!

April Showers Paid Off

I don't remember seeing any of my flowers blooming as early as they have this spring. Mind you, I'm not complaining. The minute I spy a bloom, I usually clip it and bring it inside. I'm not very generous with passersby in that respect. Plus the fact that one never knows when a vagrant snowstorm might hit.

Actually, the first surprise was the early arrival of the daffodils along with a different colored crocus than I had ever seen before. Don't think I planted it--in fact, I always anticipate what colorful surprises emerge in my flower gardens--and the Creator never fails to delight me.

My next surprise was lilacs in my backyard by the middle of May. Usually, it's June when they appear, if at all. I planted tulips with abandon at some point a year or so ago. The yield was not abundant this year but colorful. The red ones didn't get recorded for posterity but the white one is included with the lilacs. 

Yesterday Dean asked me if I'd noticed the iris blooming. I had not, but they were doing a beautiful job it in spite of my inattention. On top of that, when I went to the mailbox today, I noticed the spirea bush blooming. Just a note of nostalgia on that one. We used to have a large spirea bush at the farmhouse in Missouri where I grew u[. I can remember breaking off the slender limbs ( probably not the right term) and making them into a "bride's" tiara. 

Now it's time to be thinking of planting vegetables (actually, I'm tardy for some seeds--what else is new?) During my weekly trip to the grocery store today the first thing I noticed upon entering the store was  a lovely, green display of tomato plants. I chose one already bearing a baby tomato about the size of a cherry. There are four blossoms also residing on the plant, so those tomatoes will only cost me $.50/fruit. What a deal!  However, I'll pamper those expensive little tomatoes inside until at least the middle of June. Despite our warm weather, I don't trust Mother Nature's track record in NE Nevada.