Should I

 Should I ?

I woke and was unsure what I should write about this morning. Several thoughts came to mind. One was pushing me to write about the rheumatoid arthritis that my Grandmother Rebecca Rugg Miner developed in her old age. That disease caused her hands and feet to be misshapen. The joints became gnarled and painful. Her knees became large and deformed causing her stance to be bowlegged. The effect of the disease causes me pain and to a much lesser degree deformity.

The second is married to the first. This weather swings stir the arthritis to increase the aching in my joints. The cold intensifies the discomfort and sharpens its edge. I feel so blessed when the sun shines and the warmth interrupts the cold and snow.

For some reason a random thought of the dream I had last night lingers. I rarely remember the content of my dreams unless it happens right before I wake. I dreamed that I was helping a friend from Frick Hospital where I worked before retirement. She was sorting through clothing to be resold at a church bazaar. I had been working outside and came inside to help. I was wearing shorts and a Tee shirt that were filthy and filled with sweat. In my dream I thought that I could find something I could wear and change into some clothes that were more fitting, but no. She had taken all the clothes off the racks. They were jumbled together. She decided that the clothes needed to be separated differently.

I am picking through different piles, putting them on hangers then replacing them onto the racks. For some reason I intended to attend a church service adding to the haste to find something clean to wear. I can remember a though that filled my head, “If I can’t find something clean to wear, I will have to go to church in filthy, stinky shorts and a Tee shirt. That thought spurred my frantic search for something to wear. I found a pair of gray slacks. But they were ladies and much too long in the legs, but they were clean and I tried them on…then I woke. I have no idea if I kept them or not or whether I made it to the church service.

On thing I am sure of is that the arthritis is still here

Paying It Forward

 Paying It Forward

Monday morning I went to get my blood drawn as part of a trial medication study. Although I had to stop taking the meds earlier because of side effects from the medication, they wanted to keep me as a “normal” control patient. The reason I stayed in the study was that I was getting paid for having three tubes of blood drawn two times each month. All I needed to do was to fast overnight, be weighed, have my blood pressure checked, and then sit still for the blood draw. This appointment I had to answer a questionnaire. Once I was released, I drove to Valley Dairy restaurant to eat. After my food arrived I took my daily medications.

Monday was my birthday and no one was there to help me celebrate. I was feeling just a little bit down. As I sat there a tall black man came in and sat at a table near mine. He nodded and said “Good morning” his smile spreading across his face. He was a complete stranger, but his friendliness made me take notice. When I finished eating my food I decided to pay for his breakfast. I walked to the cashier to where my server was standing. I handed him my bill and cash asking him to cover the cost of the other man’s bill and keep the rest as his tip.

My next stop was Ollies. While “springing ahead” this weekend resetting my bathroom clock I was clumsy enough to drop it and the hands popped loose, useless. It had bitten the dust. It was no longer able to keep the time. I needed a few groceries and stopped at Aldi’s before heading home.

Once home I washed a load of clothing and dried them before folding and storing them away. I sat in my recliner and the boob tube claimed the rest of the day.

It wasn’t an exciting way to spend my birthday, but I’m still alive and kicking. My kids said they would celebrate another day when we can all get together.

All in all it wasn’t a bad day and I had that good feeling of anonymously paying it ahead.

Weekend Whirlwind

 Weekend Whirlwind

The weekend flew by. So much to do and so much completed. Friday was the unloading and setting up of the equipment to assemble the Gospel of Romans and St. John into booklets to be sent to missionaries in Ukraine. They will distribute the booklets to the citizens of Ukraine. The Ukrainians only had a sloppy translation of those books or they had to read and rely on a more reliable Russian translation. It was a real dilemma, to read the poorly translated Ukrainian Word of God or to read the Bible in the enemy’s language.

Seedline has been printing and sharing the Word of God in the Ukrainian language for several years now. The missionaries who are in Ukraine have been requesting more copies for the people who are fearful and in need of encouragement. They are seeking hope and the peace in a time of war that only can be found in Jesus to fill the weary soul.

Friday evening we unloaded the heavy cutting/trimmer machine, the boxes of covers, the printed copies of the Scripture, eighteen stapling machines, and the aluminum folding trays. We placed them onto our tables. As soon as the machines were set up, we began to fold the covers so they would be ready to receive the printed texts. Those assembled covers and texts were then passed on to the people who were manning the stapling machines. Once the booklets were stapled, they were stacked in piles of ten and cut by the huge blade in the trimming machine. The finished booklets were then stacked and sealed in boxes ready to be shipped in large metal shipping containers.

We started the project Friday evening at five-thirty as soon as the supplies were unloaded and set up. We worked until eight pm. We folded nearly three of the four boxes of covers only to start again at eight-thirty on Saturday morning. As one table finished their tasks, the workers moved to other tables to stuff, staple, and trim the assembled booklets. By eleven am everything was complete. Machines were reloaded and the boxes of Scripture were placed back into the trailer.

Sunday morning the Seedline director and the new assistant described the depth of the Seedline program and all the components of their ministry. The men also preached a sermon and spoke at Sunday school before heading home to Milford, Ohio.

Sunday evening I attended the Sunday evening services. I was glad to get home and prop up my feet.

Seeds of Hope

 Seeds of Hope

Dan Gill, a dear friend and an ambassador for the Seedline Ministry out of Milford, Ohio has been bringing the equipment and printed Gospel of John and Romans to our church for eight years. It has been a wonderful set of experiences to see him and the church form an exciting bond of friendship. He and his wife have driven a huge trailer filled with the heavy equipment, and supplies to allow our church to assemble the precious Word of God in so many languages to be distributed throughout the world. I’ve mentioned many of the languages before and some are translations that I cannot mention because of the fierce resistance to the Word of God. Satan has set these strongholds, but God has created ways to allow the lost in those countries to hear His voice. Many of these countries once welcomed missionaries, but now will imprison and kill the faithful who desire to share the Gospel or even are found in prayer to God, the Creator of the universe.

Dan shared that he and his wife Kelly has been coming to our church since 2015. The first year our church assembled 5,000 copies of John and Romans. We had problems learning the ins and outs. The fluorescent lighting caused the staplers to malfunction and the assembly project was done in the darkened cafeteria with a scattering of lights. Over the years we moved the assembly line (and staplers) to the gym where Mercury overhead lighting didn’t interfere. This year our total was 12,000 and the numbers in the eight years totaled 243,310 copies in multiple languages.

Form the Seedline research, it is estimated that in the third world countries, seven people will read each copy and one person will understand and be saved and will come to know Christ as their Savior. Our 12,000 copies this year is part of a shipment of 350,000 the will be loaded into shipping containers and sent to missionaries who have requested them. They were bound for Croatia. Dan spoke that Sunday morning on John 17. He shared the entire chapter, comparing it as the extended version of the Lord’s Prayer. He and his wife are coming back this week with their equipment for another assembly project. We’re not sure which language yet, but it is always enjoyable and we know that it helps to spread the Word of God.

Up and Down and All Around

 Up and Down and All Around

Maybe because I have slowed down just a bit from my youth or maybe my artist’s eye is capturing more of the beauty in my surroundings, but I have really been impressed with the sky filled with clouds, sunrises, and sunsets. I’ve looked more closely at the intricate delicate beauty of flowering plants. The rich colors and subtle hues my eye sees doesn’t translate to the camera’s eye. I struggle to describe what I see. It is never as precise even when it becomes a photo on my cell phone. I try to capture and share these landscapes, but wish I could share the intensity of the scene that I see.

My home is located in the mountains of southwestern Pennsylvania. It sports a wide panorama of surrounding tree clad hillsides. This time of years those various trees wear a variety of colors in a patchwork design. These Chestnut Ridge Mountains are but hills compared to the Rockies or the Grand Tetons that I’ve visited, but Pennsylvania remains my home. On three sides of my home I have open views of each sunrise, each sunset, and the many storms that roll from the west in massive thunderheads interspersed with flashes of lightning.

Because I live in a rural area, there is a perfusion of wildflowers and the many flowers planted by my wife Cindy Morrison Beck. One wildflower that was my wife’s favorite flower is the daisy. Fresh, plain, and innocent, its white petals form a tight circle around an egg yolk yellow center. The irises and the snowball bush have bloomed. The blossoms of my apple trees, the black berry, raspberry, and strawberry blossoms all are faded and the fruit is formed and been picked.

If I look, there is always something new for me to see. Have I slowed down enough to take the time to see? Have I gained the wisdom to really look around and interpret what I see? Often when I drive I am surprised with a sudden eye widening view. It stirs my artist heart and I wonder if I could ever capture the sights I was seeing with paint or with camera. Photographs capture only a small part of the things my eyes see. But I try.

Preserving the Past

Preserving the Past

My writing as a blogger didn’t start out that way. I began to write stories about my family to preserve the history of my kinfolk, my life as a kid, and my schooling, Later it evolved into me sharing my time in the Navy, my time in college, and my career as a nurse. Most of the tales were recollections of specific characters, incidents, or happenings. I started out writing every day. That became too burdensome and I had to back off posting three times a week, Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. I usually dredge a post I’ve written about incidents of the Miner clan for the National Minard, Minor, Miner Group to share with cousins every Thursday.

I’ve allowed my chores to back up because I also edit the newsletter “Down Memory Lane” for the Chestnut Ridge Historical Society and with the help of other members, the autumn and winter edition is ready to be printed and mailed out. Sometimes it’s difficult to find local history to fill the eight pages. Sometimes it follows a theme and sometimes it’s filled with tales and oral histories that have been shared and stored in our archives.

So many of the artifacts, local family histories, maps, news articles, books, and paperwork are either on display or readily available for the community to stop in and view or to look for something specific about family members or incidents. We also archive obituaries to assist beginner or advanced genealogists in their search for their past.

Yesterday, I was able to finish several of the postponed chores and I am looking for several more work-concentrated days like that where I am actually eliminating the unfinished tasks. My firewood is finally stacked. I got a load of coal delivered and I’m breaking apart some old pallets that have been cluttering my yard. I have rolled up my hoses before the coming freeze and I’ve raked up and dumped some of the tree bark debris left from the dump spot of my firewood.

It’s soon time for me to take off my flannel sheets. It was nice to crawl between the warm flannel sheets and I am looking forward to the time I can slip between cool cotton sheets in the summer. I’m planning on replacing storm door’s windows with the screens to allow the warmth and scents of spring to replace my home’s stale trapped air. There is still much to do. Winter, please go somewhere else.

Remembering Versus Imagination

 Remembering Versus Imagination

I often alternate the stories of my recollections and expressing my ideas of fantasy when I write. I try to keep them separate but occasionally my real life occurrences manage to wander over to be woven into the plot of a story or two. One example was a trip driving through the northeastern states of America, the provinces of southeastern Canada, and a voyage on a ship named the “Northern Ranger.” The voyage traveled the length of the Newfoundland/ Labrador coast. It became the basis for a story I wrote for the Greensburg Writers Group. The members were to write a tale to include their favorite sleuth and his/her muse. The compilation of stories that were written were included in a book that was to have amateur detectives getting involved solving a crime while on vacation. My sleuth was Luigi Garibaldi, a professional gambler attempting to escape the wrath of a cuckolded casino owner. While aboard the ship he reluctantly became involved as a witness of a smuggling ring and a murder.

My several day voyage on the Northern Ranger gave me insight to the activities of the shipboard routine and the knowledge of the many small towns, fishing villages, and ports where the ship stopped to load and to unload its cargo. I described the scenery that I saw so well that a fellow writer said I should write travel brochures. I still haven’t figured out whether she was paying me a compliment or not.

In the books of the Tommy Two-Shoes series my trips to West Virginia and the ride on the trains there became an integral part of several chapters of these mysteries. Again the experience added flavor and helped to shape the direction of the story.

In my book titled “Addie” my familiarity of the local terrain of the hillsides of Confluence, Pennsylvania and land between to Mt. Pleasant was essential for the plot. I am barely old enough to remember the things of the 1940’s. But I used things of that time period to keep the historicity of the era correct although the plot was fictional. It’s often necessary for me to do research to keep my fictional writings believable. My readers expect the plot to have a foot in reality. Places, food, weapons must have details that are correct. An example of one small detail I researched in the book “Addie” was, when was wax paper invented? Or was the topography and details of the terrain from Confluence to Connellsville and Mt. Pleasant correct.