Good advice

Best advice of the day:


Growl less. Wag more.

Being Pollyanna is Hard (apologies to Stephen Green)

During this past week:

• I attended the memorial service for the husband of a dear friend who drowned on their honeymoon
• I found out that my BFF's pancreatic tumor has been rendered "all dead" from the radiation and chemo, there is no sign of other tumors and she is officially in remission
• I visited a beautiful hospice patient who is only a few years older than me whose body is being ravaged by ALS. She welcomes my visits with joy on her face and loves to pat my face with the one arm & hand that still work. She loves Jesus and cries tears of joy when I pray. 
• My community group that was formed to make our neighborhood a better place to live is imploding due to grown people acting like spoiled pre-teenagers.

Guess which one makes me not want to give a rat's rear? And yet I feel compelled to love, care, and pray for them all, even the badly-behaved ones. Sometimes being Pollyanna is a pain in MY rear. Good thing that God provides what I can't muster up for myself. 

Unforgettable...

I have noticed something in my visits with hospice patients who have dementia. There is one thing that will often get a reaction out of them when nothing else will and that is to sing "Jesus Loves Me" to them. Often, dementia patients who can't put together a coherent thought much less a sentence will join me in singing the entire song. It's a beautiful thing.

Jesus loves me, this I know.
For the Bible tells me so.
Little ones to him belong
they are weak, but He is strong.
Yes, Jesus loves me!
Yes, Jesus loves me!
Yes, Jesus loves me!
The Bible tells me so.

Amen.