Not Too Far From Anywhere

by   October 24, 2020 with No Comments

By Lynna Clark

My beautiful puzzle came from the Our State store. Five hundred and fifty pieces of pure bliss awaited my attention. According to the front of the box, each area of the Old North State is represented. I envisioned framing the completed puzzle and hanging it just above a wooden American flag a friend of mine handcrafted. On that same wall is a pen and ink drawing of David’s mother’s house by his cousin Michael. In my mind’s eye the puzzle would be perfect there. I could hardly wait to get started. Besides, the internet and cable were down; rain pounded the metal awning, and two of my eight year old grandchildren had just arrived. All things indicated a great day to stay inside and assemble a masterpiece.

Marie emptied all the pieces carefully onto the dining table. Wow. Five hundred and fifty pieces make a pretty large pile! Jesse propped the box up for easy reference. Their mom asked where they’d like to live on the map. Since their family had recently visited Cape Lookout, Marie pointed to the horses. “I want to live there with the wild ponies!” That was no surprise as the child loves animals so much that we’ve dubbed her Ellie Mae. Jesse however pointed to the mountains. Apparently bears in the wild are quite inviting to a boy who loves the outdoors. Their family hikes the mountain trails often especially if it means wading through an ice cold stream on a warm day.

“Where would you like to live Grammy?” They peered at me with wonder as if saying it out loud would make it happen. I pointed to the Cheerwine bottle right smack dab in the middle. “I want to live right here, in Salisbury.”

“But you already live in Salisbury!” They reminded me as though I’d forgotten.

“Yep. And there is no place I’d rather be. But I can always visit if you decide to live near the beach or in the mountains. That’s another good thing about living in Salisbury. I’m not too far from anywhere.”

They nodded as they considered their life choices then began sorting the puzzle pieces by color. It’s been years since I worked a big puzzle. Suddenly I felt a bit overwhelmed. When I was a kid the sensible thing to do was to gather all the straight sides, form the outer frame, then fill in from there. The kids however chose their favorite pictures on the map and began finding the pieces they needed. My phone buzzed and I’m glad I checked. The cable guy was on his way. Of course I needed to change into my “greet the cable dude” clothes since my everyday attire has devolved into whatever I happen to have slept in. The backdoor opened and thankfully it was the grandkids’ mother returning from her errand. Like a quick change artist I jumped into my clothes in time to greet the cable guy. Next came David home from work to instruct the repairman. The kids never looked up. I sat down again trying to gather my thoughts. A small pile of green straight edges greeted me. Surely I could make the bottom border. Glancing at the progress of the kids I found that Jesse had completed not only the bear but also Chimney Rock, the waterfall, the Christmas tree lot and a jug of moonshine. “Save all the red for me. I’m putting together the cardinal,” he instructed. Marie had the wild horses and several light houses finished. Quickly she worked her way down the coast. She gazed at me with sympathy. “Here Grammy. Try these pieces.” Sweetly she handed me two pieces that seemed to have no rhyme or reason. I couldn’t get them to fit.

“Switch them around like this.” Her tiny fingers showed me how. Eventually I got it to work. She held her hand up for a high five. “You did it! Now here are two more. You can do it Grammy.” Her sweet encouragement made me laugh. Apparently the brain fog from chemo a few years back is still in effect. At least that’s the story I’m sticking with. Absentmindedly I attached my little section to Jesse’s part where he’d not only finished the cardinal but had started the state flower. “Yay Grammy! Good job!” He too high-fived me before resuming his search for dogwood leaves.

Eventually the cable was repaired, the internet was restored and the rain stopped. But no one seemed to notice. We were too busy finishing the Moravian star and the Cheerwine bottle.

Home sweet Salisbury! Don’t I love it?! Not too far from anywhere!

Obedience

by   October 24, 2020 with No Comments

By Doug Creamer

Obedience

            My pastor was traveling last Sunday and asked me to fill in for him. Needless to say, I was excited to have the opportunity. I prayed about what to share. Naturally, I wanted to prepare so that I could do a good job.

            I felt led to talk about obedience through telling some stories. I looked at disobedience and the consequences compared to obedience and the blessing. The stories popped into mind one night while lying in bed. I need to learn to keep some paper and pens next to the bed. Ideas can seem so clear when lying in bed and they tend to need a lot of work when you begin formulating them into a lesson.

            The first story of disobedience was Jonah. Everyone who attended Sunday school has probably heard the story of Jonah and the big fish. Jonah was a prophet from long ago and God gave him an assignment to go and speak to the city of Nineveh. He was to tell them that God wasn’t very happy with their behavior and that He was about to destroy the city.

            Jonah didn’t like the people of Nineveh and he wanted them to be destroyed, so he went in the opposite direction and ran away from God’s assignment. We all know that he ended up in the belly of a big fish. It took him three days to repent and agree to go to Nineveh. He delivers God’s message, and then gets angry at God when the Lord decided to have mercy on the people because they repented and begged for mercy.

            The three lessons I learned were, first, God has a calling on each of our lives and He expects us to fulfill it. He needs us to do our part to get the gospel message out. Second, when we disobey God, if we repent, then God is merciful and forgiving. I am so thankful that I can run back and be secure in my Father’s love. Third, God loves all people and He wants them to repent and to have a relationship with Him. Our pastor constantly reminds us that mission is everywhere! People need the Lord. The door is open; let’s help them find it.

            Another story I told was about obedience. I believe that Jesus had to struggle to maintain His obedient life. I think that the most difficult struggle He faced was in the Garden of Gethsemane. They had just had the Lord’s Supper and it was right before Jesus was arrested. All the gospels tell of Jesus praying to His Father, asking Him, “Is there any other way?” Some people may think it is sin to ask a question of God. It is not a sin to ask a question, but it is sin to question God’s authority.

            Jesus’ mind and body were hoping for an alternate plan. “Father, everything is possible for you. Is there any other way? Nevertheless, not what I want but Your will be done.” Do you see Jesus’ heart there? He wants God’s will to be done even though His body doesn’t want to go through the agony of crucifixion.

            Jesus prayed in order to bring His mind and body into submission to God’s plan. It took Jesus three hours to work it out with God’s help. Jesus chose obedience.

            What did we get from Jesus’ choice? Jesus paid the price for our healing. His body was beaten so we could obtain healing from God. Jesus bought our forgiveness with God. Jesus paid the ultimate price so we could be forgiven, thereby opening the door so we can have a relationship with God. This free gift is available to all of mankind because God wants every human to come to heaven. That’s why it is important to grasp and become obedient to what my pastor has taught us since he arrived: mission is everywhere!

            I want to encourage you to open the door and build a relationship with God. It’s going to require you to become obedient. It’s going to cost you, but the benefit is an eternity with God in heaven. Don’t worry if you have been disobedient in the past, God is merciful if you are willing to admit you have failed Him. If you will confess your sins, He will forgive you. God wants to use you…yes, YOU! God knows that there are people in your life that need to hear about His great love for them. If you will listen for God’s voice and become obedient, you’ll discover that mission truly is everywhere.

Contact Doug Creamer at PO Box 777, Faith, NC 28041or doug@dougcreamer.com

Too Much Sugar

by   October 19, 2020 with No Comments

By David Freeze

Last week, I got several wonderful replies from people who plan to get more vitamin D, either by spending increased time in the sun or with a supplement. By doing so, it’s likely that their health will improve. That one is an easy fix. Here’s another related effort worth considering.

One of the very first things I did when starting running many years ago was to make a decision to limit sugar. I read a cult book of sorts called Sugar Blues and was scared of what sugar would do to my body. Prior to this, I didn’t think about sugar much and was slowly gaining weight. By today’s terms, I would have been overweight. One Saturday afternoon, after losing out of softball tournament, I looked at my body and decided to make a change. I had a diabetic dad and a mother with various health problems. It was time. Well past time.

My first wife sometimes brought home bags of out-of-date candy from her workplace. I looked forward to those days. I ate my normal dinner meal, then more than a day’s worth of calories from those bags. Often, I fell asleep watching TV, then finally stumbled to bed and it seemed like every morning I woke up feeling worse. Good thing running came along when it did.

Sadly, running doesn’t make us immune from the detrimental health effects of eating too much refined sugar. The nearly 152 pounds of added sugar that each American consumes a year increases our risks of obesity, diabetes, heart disease, depression and sleep disorders. That’s true whether you exercise or not.

Refined sweeteners “go right from your lips into your bloodstream,” says the Academy of Nutrition and Dietetics. That forces your body to process high levels of sugar fast, getting less efficient at this over time, which is why we become more susceptible to problems like diabetes as we age.

The World Health Organization says even healthy people, and most runners qualify, should trim their daily intake of added sugar to less than 25 grams per day. No need to avoid naturally sweet, whole foods like fruit, which have water, fiber, and/or protein that slow sugar’s path into your system. FDA food labeling guidelines that took effect earlier in 2020 require labels to list added sugar, making it easier to track. But even if we know how much sugar, included any natural and added sugar, it still isn’t easy to give up.

I’m one of those who believe that I should earn any sugary treats. I tell others to do the same thing, to research what type of workout it will take to cancel out the added calories. This works to a point but may not be the best approach. I’ve read a good bit recently on the best times to consume a sugary treat and have worked hard to make it happen. Runners get a short window of when eating sugar isn’t so bad. During and immediately after a workout, the body metabolizes sugar for fuel and replenishes muscle glycogen for recovery. Glycogen is that magic word that powers us through muscle activity. Two Pop-Tarts immediately following the end of my run are a special treat.

As for all other times, go easy. “The sugar that you eat when you’re sedentary is more likely to go to stored fat, once glycogen stores are full,” said Kelly Pritchett, Ph.D., a sports nutritionist at Central Washington University.

Being aware of sugar intake and balancing it out are a sign of progress. More reason to read labels and begin to break bad food habits. Better sleep, increased mood and focus, plus the likelihood of losing some extra pounds is worth the effort. And one more benefit, eating less sugar often means that a smaller amount satisfies much more.

Next Saturday’s Ed Dupree 5K at East Rowan High School honors a long time runner, coach and Salisbury Post sportswriter. Check out this event and more at salisburyrowanrunners.org .

My Covid Journey Part 4

by   October 18, 2020 with No Comments

By Ann Farabee

After the overnight emergency room visit ended, we headed home with hope. I was starting to believe I may recover from COVID.

But days 9-10 took a surprising and unexpected turn that left me with the most powerful emotions of my journey.

Isolation would continue. Isolation means to be alone or apart from others. That pretty much summed it up. The days were hard. They lasted forever.

Day 9

I got home from the hospital and back to bed. A morning cup of coffee and a yogurt were delivered by family to my bedroom door at 9 a.m.  I was spending my morning with the expectation of improvement on the horizon, mostly due to having an antibiotic. I would just wait and see.

Then came the surprise. I took a sip of my coffee. I could not taste it. I ate a spoonful of  yogurt. I could not taste it. How yogurt and coffee both felt like cardboard in my mouth, I really could not understand. It scared me. What if my taste never came back? I knew if I had to live like this, I would never survive. Never have I experienced such a moment. It was shocking. It felt hopeless. Eating cardboard? Why even bother? I could feel the warmth of the coffee, but that was all. I sent it away.

Later, I tried water. Surely that would seem normal. Again — cardboard.

At that point, I was not willing to eat without tasting it, but did try to keep drinking a little water. Napping and watching TV took up most of my day, but as evening fell I began to realize that another symptom had shown up. My vision had become blurry. My eyes were watery. Losing my ability to taste and see hit me hard. Fear of not getting better began to control my thoughts — again.

Hopelessness was still there.

There was no end in sight.

I was starting to wonder if it would end.

Tears came easily on this night, as I prayed alone for my taste and my ability to see clearly to return. I thought about Charles, sleeping again on the floor in another room. He had been working so diligently to care for the family — all of us. It was then that I connected his favorite Bible verse with my very difficult day. Psalm 34:8 says, “Oh taste and see that the Lord is good. Blessed is the man who trusts in him.”

I gotta say — I wasn’t feeling it.

Day 10

Double digits. I had lived to see another day. Surely, this day would be the peak and my symptoms would begin to subside. They did. It was the peak for some of the earlier symptoms — no more fever, headache or cough, and breathing improved slightly. It was now mostly achy, fatigued, and the inability to taste and see. Those symptoms were horrible. I tried to feel encouraged, for we were only a few days away from the end of our quarantine, going out of our yard, our children getting back to school, grocery store trips, and church. And I was feeling somewhat better. Our lives would return to normal.

Then came the unexpected.

At 4 p.m., Charles walked in the bedroom, with his mask on as always, looked me in the eyes, and said, “I’m sick.”

We both knew.

Return to normal would have to wait.

That Still Small Voice

by   October 17, 2020 with No Comments

By Doug Creamer

            Have you ever had one of those weeks when you had more to do than you thought you could accomplish? Yeah, I know we have all had those kinds of weeks. It makes you feel glad for a routine week. It makes the routine seem quiet. Like it or not, we all have those kinds of days and weeks when we chase ourselves.

            Then there are those weeks that are stressful. Maybe you are facing a deadline and you are pushing to get it all done. Maybe you are worried about a loved one. Maybe you are dealing with sickness, your own or a family member, and you are feeling overwhelmed.

            Maybe you are facing the loss of a loved one. Our world has come to a screeching halt in moments like this. I have been to a number of funerals for church members recently. I have family members who have recently lost members from their families. Daily routines must feel so unimportant in such times.

            We pray for each other. We are there for each other. We offer our hand of help and support. We listen and we try to lift the burdens from family and friends. We offer words that we hope will bring comfort.

            I thought retired life would always grant me plenty of time. Hustling would be something I would only see in my rearview mirror. For the most part, I was right, but there are times and days when things can still go crazy. It seems that it has been that way for the last couple of weeks. 

            Last week when I was reaching a peak of craziness I suddenly felt this blanket of peace surround me. I really can’t explain it. I should have been feeling the stress of all that was going on. I didn’t. The craziness settled, I took a few breaths, and wondered how I made it.

            I didn’t have time for the computer during the craziness, so I took a few quiet moments to catch up on email and social media. I saw an email from an old friend. I haven’t seen or talked with him in quite a while. I opened it and it simply read, “Been praying for you the last couple of days.” It took my breath away. I savored it. I read it a couple of times.

            This friend had no way of knowing what kind of craziness I was enduring. I wrote and thanked the friend. I shared a few of the crazy things that were going on. He simply said that I was on his mind during his quiet time. Obedience is so important. We don’t need to understand, just listen and obey that still, small voice.

            God can be quite sneaky at times. (No disrespect intended – actually love and appreciation.) He has ways of getting people praying because prayer changes things. God knows what we often fail to understand, that prayer is a powerful tool that moves heaven.

            There are six friends who receive prayer from me every day. Beyond them, there are varying amounts of prayers being offered for various people and situations. Yes, in case you don’t know, I do pray about the weather, too. Jesus calmed storms and He’s our example.

            Like my friend, I have been impressed to pray for people. When I feel the gentle call, I don’t ask questions, I just lift them up in prayer. Sometimes when the impression to pray is intense, I will follow up with the person and often hear some interesting stories. Morning, noon, or night, if the Spirit whispers, I try to listen and respond.

             I think many people do not realize the power they possess if they will simply bow their head in prayer. Peter was delivered from prison because a group was praying for him. I know people who have been healed and others who have been saved through the power of prayer. I believe circumstances change, the Lord’s favor can rest on us, and impossible situations can miraculously resolve themselves through prayer.

            I want to encourage you to listen for and obey that still, small voice. You never know how your prayers might impact situations. Your prayers might set in motion the help that is desperately needed. Your prayers can turn another person’s day completely around. Your prayers can dispatch angels. Your prayers can release peace, love, and the Spirit to do what only He can do. Next time you hear that still, small voice speaking to you, say a prayer.

Contact Doug Creamer at PO Box 777, Faith, NC 28041or doug@dougcreamer.com

My COVID Journey part 3

by   October 13, 2020 with No Comments

By Ann Farabee

Day 8

6:45 p.m.

Perhaps there has never been a more defining evening in my life. COVID-19 seemed to be getting the upper hand. The waters felt deep and rough. I knew I needed to go to the ER, but checked in with the COVID line first, where it was recommended I go to an urgent care for a chest x-ray. They let them know we were on our way.

As I stepped out of the car, an employee quickly got to me, and said, “You really need to go to the ER, since we would probably have to send you there anyway and duplicate services.”

It stung a bit, for I had done what I was told.

I felt a little hopeless.

Maybe a tad unwanted.

But, I understood.

7:12 p.m.

Charles dropped me off at the ER entrance. A police officer met him, told him to go home, and that after they admitted me, I would call him.

I think it broke his heart.

He told me later that his first thought as he watched me walk in the hospital was, “I may never see her again.”

It seemed as if everything was moving in fast motion at first, as they tried to get me exactly where they needed for me to be. Apparently, where they felt I needed to be was waiting in a cold hallway in a plastic chair with a metal frame. At that point, everything switched to super slow motion. Waiting in that chair had to be the longest three hours and 43 minutes of my COVID journey.

After my vitals were checked, I was told I had to wait for a room with a door.

I guess I looked confused, for she repeated, “You have to wait for a room with a door.”

It took me a second, but I understood.

The door mattered. It would protect me. It would protect others.

I was freezing. I leaned my head against the wall and waited. I tried to find one second of comfort. It did not come.

I understood.

Everyone’s pandemic experience is different — whether sick, or working, or just living their lives. We must be patient, tolerant, respectful and supportive of each other as we handle the crisis. We are all in this together, albeit in different roles. But even going through something together can feel very alone.

Arms folded, legs outstretched, and head against the wall, I knew it had gotten dark outside by now, but the darkness I felt in this cold hallway was all I could think about.

I believe those hours in the ‘waiting room’ were when God began taking me from a place of pleading for healing — to a place of leaning on his promises for healing.

I reached down for my notepad in my purse where I had scribbled these words earlier that day: Don’t be afraid for the terror by night — the fears that come when all is quiet. Nor for the pestilence — the fatal epidemic disease — that walks in darkness when you least expect it. Nor for the destruction at noonday — the bold enemy assaults. Call on me. I will answer. I will be with you in trouble.

The words from Psalm 91 reminded me I should be feeling more hopeful than I was.

I was hearing God’s voice, but I was not believing God’s word for my victory.

10:55 p.m. Bianca walked up. I will never forget her name. She took me to the room that had been prepared just for me. It had a door. I never once glanced back at that plastic chair in the metal frame.

What had felt like a hospital visit up to this point now began to feel more like a spiritual visitation.

I wish I could express it in words, so that you could feel it with me.

For the first time in my COVID journey, I gave up. Yes, I gave myself up completely. I let them take care of me. They called me by my name. They covered me with a heated blanket, helped me into a bed with the whitest sheets and most comfortable mattress ever. The lights in the room were bright, white and warm. They took away the darkness that had tried to settle in my heart. It felt as if I was in a different place than I had ever been before. I remember thinking that it felt like heaven.

Day 9

12 a.m.

They comforted me. Comfort was followed by compassion.

Compassion was followed by complete and competent care.

Bloodwork. X-rays. EKG. CT scan.

Potential blood clots and bacterial pneumonia in the setting of my COVID diagnosis.

A plan put in place for recovery at home — that would give me hope and a future.

2:46 a.m. I was discharged to go home. It seemed so strange. No wheelchair. No assistance. My ER angels closed the door behind them. They left the room. It was time for me to go.

I felt weak as I reached out to open the door. It looked heavy, and I expected it to be. But — when I grabbed the handle — the door was not heavy at all. It was light.

As I walked out, I noticed the cubicles surrounding the other parts of the ER. They had plastic curtains — and no door.

I was so glad I had been taken to the room with the door.

It was worth the wait.

The door. It had felt so light.

2 Corinthians 4:17 says, “For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, works for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory.”

The door. It had been so important.

Jesus said in John 10:9, “I am the door. If any man enters in, he will be saved. He will go in — and out — and will find pasture.”

Without a doubt, Jesus had been the door they had continually referred to that long night. And the wonderful people who took care of me in the ‘room with the door’ were angels in human form sent straight from heaven. Thank you!

2:56 a.m. I called Charles to come get me.

I guess he would be seeing me again, after all.

Join me next week, as I continue sharing my COVID journey.

Contact me at annfarabee@gmail.com.

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