IT IS JUST ME

It is amazing.  I grew up knowing I should be married. I fell in love with a wonderful man. I shared a life with him. Fifty-four years we were together.

As God said, “We became one”. Then one day he left. He joined God. But he left me behind.

It is just me.

I feel so alone at times. I am sad that he is gone.  It is as if I have lost my being. I have lost my understanding of life. I don’t know what is expected of me. What is my goal for the rest of my life. I don’t know what God wants me to accomplish. What is my purpose?

I carry on each day.  I try to work on the dreams that we built together. I work hard to stay busy and to finish projects that were important to the two of us. But I wonder, does it really matter? Were we living out a dream of things that were important to us but not important to God? Should I just give it all up and stop trying to complete our dreams?

I sometimes feel so alone. I have a very loving family. They are so good to me. They care, they are concerned and they try to be sure to care for me. I have friends that love me, communicate with me and want the best for me.

However, I find that I am alone.

It is just me.  

In the midst of all the love of my  family and my friends, I am still alone. The eighth month was very hard. I am feeling my alone-ness more than ever before. I miss my best friend. It is as if part of my body was amputated that day in July. Whether it was my limbs or my spirit, it has disappeared. I feel so alone.

When I am with others, I laugh and joke as part of a social group, but I am still alone. I know when I am interacting that I am playing a charade because I feel that part of me is no longer there. I act as though I am still all together but I am really alone.

God promised that He would care for me. I know that promise to be true. He has cared for me. I am making it financially. I am existing in the world. His presence is with me as I go through each day. I cannot say that God has forsaken me. He has kept His promise and has cared for me. But I sometimes feel so sad and alone.

Maybe I am selfish. Maybe I feel that I need more than is due me. I don’t know. I just know that there is a void. There is a deep hole. There is a part of me that hurts so hard it takes my breathe away.

I was not prepared to deal with the depth of this hurt.

I pray hard for forgiveness of my selfish spirit that I should expect happiness. I pray that God will understand the bottomless pit of my hurt. I pray that He knows the agony of my loneliness. That He will not hold it against me. I trust Him. I love Him. I know that He has a plan and that I am in His hands. Also, I know somehow that this deep hurt that I feel has a meaning and will be used to His greater good.

I know that from the moment we met, my husband and I were meant for each other and we were God’s children. We loved Him, served Him and lived for Him. Therefore, I know that in the overall plan of God for our lives, my husband was called home and I was left to be here for Him. It is just really hard. I hope I am doing it the way my God would want me to live.

Even if that means that I feel so alone.

Deuteronomy 31:8 The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.

My Passenger

I recently had the privilege to serve on an Ordination Council for a lovely young lady in our church.  But on the same day as one of the meetings some of my dear friends were scheduled to come to the beach house.  We made plans that I would go to my meeting and as soon as I was released I would make the three hour drive to the beach house.

The meeting ran into the late afternoon, but I left as soon as I could. As it got dark, I was motoring along, listening to and singing to the upcoming Easter Cantata on a CD so I could know my part. I was really looking forward to getting to the beach and seeing my friends.

About 30 minutes into this trip I hit horrible wind.  At first I thought I had a tire problem because I was having trouble keeping my car on the road.  Then I realized that my car gave me messages if I had a tire problem so it must be something else.  I soon realized, I had hit a bad storm. The rain came down in sheets and I was holding on for dear life to keep the car on the road.

I reduced my speed.  That did not make me happy since I was determined to hurry to the beach to begin my visit with friends.  I knew I had to be safe.  So I became alert, held on for dear life and kept going.

All of a sudden I smelled the most wonderful sweet smell in the car.  It was a strong odor. It was not to be missed.  I sniffed and sniffed and tried to figure out what it was.

I did not have any deserts in the car.  I did not have any perfume in the car.

What was this marvelous smell?  It took my mind off of the danger on the road and I focused on the delightful smell.  Then it hit me.  The smell was a strong version of my dead husband’s cologne.  He did not wear it everyday.  It was “Cool Water” for our special occasions.  It was that intoxicating smell of love, romance and caring.

My car was still being buffeted by the wind but I was now somehow comforted and less anxious. I knew that I was going to be fine.  I felt that I could see better in the dark through the rain and I took my car back up to a reasonable speed and went on as if it was a clear Sunday afternoon adventure.

About forty five minutes later the weather cleared and I noticed the smell had gone away.  Later, after I got through Florence and was on some very dark and lonely country roads the weather came back.  I had hit another pocket of this weather system.  The high winds returned along with the pelting rain.  Once again, I reduced my speed and started white knuckling the steering wheel.

Yes. You know what happened.
The strong smell came back.

It was overpowering and so enticing.  The car seemed to be driving itself.  I relaxed, felt so calm and knew that I was going to be fine.

OK, once again, you know I am just a little left of center.  As you go through this journey with me, you have found that I talk to birds, I see my husband in squirrels and now I am telling you that I had a mysterious passenger helping to drive my car.

I do not know if this was my husband, a guardian angel or the Holy Spirit.  But someone let His presence be known by the sweet smell and the calming spirit.

I truly believe God was letting me know once again that his promise the night that my husband died was being carried out.  He told me that night that He would care for me.  I would never have thought that He meant He would help me drive through a storm.

God is Good.  God is ever present.  Praise always to my God.

The Good Wolf

I have a mountain house that is in the boonies and the electricity is furnished by a Co-op. I get their magazine called the Tennessee Magazine.  There was an article in this last one written by Debra Gibson Issacs that said a lot about what I see in life.

She told of an old Cherokee story of the wolves.  It goes like this. “A grandfather was teaching his grandson about life.  A fight is going on inside of me, he told the boy.  It is a terrible fight and it is between two wolves.  One is evil-he is anger, envy, sorry, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority and ego.  The other is good- he is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion and faith.  The grandson thought for a minute.  He looked up at his grandfather and asked, who will win?  The grandfather replied, the one I feed.

When my husband died nine months ago I had a night with God.  I was up all night. God and I had a real session.  I was angry, upset, bewildered and emotional.

I questioned God and His motives.
I questioned God and His love for me.
I questioned all of the days that I had been so devoted to Him.

I knew the reality of death.  No one is alive after being in the water for three hours.  So I knew it was a done deal.  But I was mightily upset.  I had been a good person, a true Christian, a devoted wife, a loving mother and a hard working professional.  I was a follower of the rules; a product of the fifties.

As I have written before, the morning came and there was clear cut information from God.  It was not your choice, it was mine.  I am more powerful than you.  I know you are hurting and in pain.  But I will always carry you and care for you and be with you.

So God gave me a choice.  Deal with it, continue my love for Him, enjoy the memories and have an intimate relationship with Him so that he could help me through everything.  Or I could be angry, sad, in denial, feel guilt, have regret and turn against Him and all other people as I refused to accept it and move on.

Many, many people look at me and feel that I am in extreme denial.  They are watching for they know I will fall apart soon.  They are bold enough to say that this is going to happen, but that when it does they will be there for me.  These are my friends.  I can only imagine what others are saying that are not as close to me.

I believe the story of the wolves.  We do have choices in our lives.  I believe that I could feed the evil wolf.  No one would blame me.  It was a traumatic event.  It was life changing.  I meet many people that choose to feed the evil wolf.  I think Satan rejoices when he leads people in that direction and they choose to embrace the evil wolf.

I choose to feed the good wolf.  I intend to praise God for each sunrise and ask what I can do to serve Him on that day.  I work hard at peace, love, serenity, benevolence, kindness, compassion and faith.  I put effort into feeding the good wolf.

I am rewarded each day.  God walks with me, helps me, guides me and allows me to have peace and joy.  Everyone of us has the same choice.

Wake up with gladness in your heart and feed the good wolf that is inside of you.

 

Talking to the Moon

I am working long hours trying to get houses ready for the beach rental season.  So, after a particularly hard day the day before, I slept til 7 am one morning.  (Normally I am up by 6 am.)  Suddenly I hear my Echo Dot playing a song.  I did not ask it to play a song. I am in the house by myself so I know that no one else asked it to play a song.

I am stunned and bewildered.

I listen to the song.
It was “Talking to the Moon” by Bruno Mars.

I listen to the lyrics.  “I am talking to the moon because you are not here and I want you bad.  You are all I had and I sit by myself and talk to the moon trying to get to you and hope that you are on the other side talking to me too.  Do you hear me calling because every night I am talking.”

I immediately remember all of the years spent traveling with my job. Every night my husband and I would talk to each other.  Many, many nights we would do this while we were looking at the moon.  We knew it was our connection.  Both of us were looking at the same thing in spite of the fact that we were thousands of miles apart.

As I was enjoying this memory I was trying in the back of my mind to figure out how my departed husband could get “Alexa” to play on my Dot.

I knew God could do this.  
God can, in my belief, do anything.  

But I did not think God would really turn “Alexa” on.  And It was kind of spooky to think that my husband could do this.  But I have seen him dance in the body of a squirrel so maybe this was just another message from the other side.

Oh, yeah.  This is getting weird.
I mean I have a lot of faith.

I am so intimate with God that I would not hesitate to believe it could have been another “God Wink”.  But somehow my logical and rational brain would not let it be that way.  I had to figure it out.

The night before I had noticed the amazing moon.  It was almost full.  The sky was clear and the moon was so big you felt you could reach up and touch it.  It was glorious.  I had texted two of my daughters to ask them if they had noticed the moon.  I wanted to share the beauty of the huge globe in the sky.  They had both noticed this magnificent sky gem.

Then, my logical and rational mind kicked in.  I called my daughter and asked, “Can you control my “Alexa” from 200 miles away?  She said she could.  She said, “How did you enjoy ‘Talking to the Moon’ ?  I admitted it was beautiful and it was sweet of her to remember me in this way.

I did not let her know that I thought my dead husband had sent it to me as a love message.  I really do not want to give my children any more reason to file for guardianship papers.  But just between you and me, I will tell you a secret.  It was my husband that put in her mind to do this.  He was always such a romantic man.

I bet he and God are having a lot of fun.  They are up there finding lots of ways to keep me on my toes and loving both of them.

Thank you Ray for your love message.
Thank you God for taking care of my sweet husband and making me so comfortable in your love.

You are holding me in your arms and helping me know it is all OK.

 

Things I Miss

It has been seven and a half months since my husband died.
I miss him so much.

I worry that as time passes I will forget the most endearing parts of our relationship.  I take notes on what I miss most.  I look at pictures each day. Surprising to me, I do not miss his image as much as I miss his actions.

I miss cuddling.
He was a great hugger.
He would spontaneously hold me.
At our age, and with his physical being, sex was not the great part of intimacy.  It was holding me.

I miss his presence next to me.
The way he would look at me and let me know that he was in love with me.
We fell in love the first time we saw each other and it never stopped

He was also good at verbalizing his love.  He would tell me each day that he loved me.

I have recently gone through a lot of paperwork to get rid of the stacks of things that need to be gone.  I found his cards that he had given me for birthdays and Valentines and Mothers’s day and anniversaries.  I read each one and the wonderful words he would add to the already lovely message of the card.  He was great at expressing love.

I really miss affirmation.
I have no one that tells me that I am doing a good job or I am an OK person.
I have no one that lets me know that I am a hard worker or that they appreciate me for all that I do.

Don’t get me wrong.  I have wonderful children.  I know that they love me.  But there is just something about having someone who tells you that they appreciate you…frequently. My husband did that for me. I knew he admired me for what I did and he let me know that my mind was sharp and my actions and hard work was in concert with him.  I felt good about myself.

I miss the little things he did that showed he cared.  He bought the gas.  I did not have to be concerned about a car on empty.  He took care of that.  He carried the garbage and the recycling to the center.  He wrote the checks and paid the bills.  He bought the groceries. The list could go on and on.

When I start looking at these things I begin to wonder what I did.  But we were good partners so I did the laundry, the cleaning and making the grocery list.

He loved to run errands.  I would make the list and he would run the errands.  He could spend all day running errands.  He love to interface with people when he ran the errands.  If I do the errands I make a list and try to do it with as much efficiency as I can. Not Ray; he enjoyed running errands and would dilly dally and backtrack and enjoy each person and each experience.  That is why he is missed by so many people.

To say that there is a void in my life is not doing it justice.  There is a huge hole.  As good as I feel I am doing without him, I cannot seem to fill this hole.

They say that time will heal.  I don’t want time to take away my memories or to replace missing him.  But there are some things that hurt so much I don’t think time could come close to repairing.

Be My Valentine

Since I was fourteen years old I have had a boyfriend give me something special for Valentine’s Day.  Even before that we had boxes in our classroom where each student would put a paper valentine in for all other students.  We coded our names by putting numbers for the letters in the alphabet so it was fun to figure out from whom the valentine was sent.  Valentine’s Day has always been a special day for me.

This year I decided to ignore Valentine’s.  I knew that my true love was not going to be here.  I knew that I would not get that special card, those flowers and that extra long hug. I had prepared myself for the fact that my husband had died and Valentine’s Day for me would be just another day on the calendar.

I did great.  I was rocking along getting my chores done and my “to do” list was getting checked off in the speed of lightning. I was proud of my moving along and ignoring the special day of love.

Then my wonderful daughter comes up to me, gives me a great big cuddly long hug and says, “This was sent to you from heaven from Dad”.  That was it.  I looked at her and lost it.  My big bravado heart broke wide open.  I could no longer ignore the day.  I loved him so much while he shared my life and I love him now in all of my many memories; I could not act as if it didn’t matter.

Valentine’s Day is a special day to acknowledge our love for our special people.  I know it is usually marked for the romantic love in our lives.  It is designed for dinners out, flowers, candy in heart shaped boxes and expensive jewelry.

But shouldn’t it be a time that we say “I love you” to all of our special loves?  I, as much as I tried, could not get past the hole in my heart where my true love had lived.  I ached as I let myself release those feelings of emptiness, loneliness and sadness.

I was on the way to church for Ash Wednesday services and the radio seem to play every song that my husband and I had called “our song”.  I cried through everyone.  Then the next song would play and it was, once again, another of the songs that we loved.  Those songs reminded me of many special moments that only the two of us shared.

By the time I got to church I was a basket case. Probably, for the sake of others, I should have turned around and gone home, gone to bed and cried through the night.  But I didn’t.  I sat through a very moving service and thought about repentance and the sacrifice of Jesus and how I was going to ponder that for the next 46 days.

Thankfully my friends are sweet, caring people and they accepted my quiet sobs.  They knew my distress because they knew how much my husband and I were in love.  They understood my pain.

I made it home and the next day I was moving on with life.  But I learned that as hard as I tried to ignore the love that is expressed on Valentine’s Day, it has to be acknowledged. I hope that everyone could have a Valentine in their life as dear and loving as mine was. He was a true romantic. We fell so deeply in love that it is hard to imagine living without him.

So now in my memories, I think of him and want to say, “Please be my Valentine forever”.  I love you and miss you.

Alone

I had an epiphany the other day.

I. Am. Alone.

I guess as you read this you would say, “Really, you are just realizing that?”  But yes, it just became so apparent to me that I am all alone.  I realized that we are all traveling through this world alone; as an individual.

We come into this world as a single being.  Although we have relationships, we are still individuals.  Some of us have very good relationships.  We have close friends with which we can share both the happy times, as well as our sad times. In fact, some folks share every intimate detail with close friends.  Some of us never have close friends and we are only comfortable sharing a limited amount of our lives with others.

In retrospect, I had a great relationship with my parents.  I don’t remember having many moments that were trying with them.  They were reasonable, flexible, and easy to get along with all of my life.  My mother died at 98 1/2 years old and was a good friend the entire time.  My brothers were younger and different from me, but we always got along.

I left my parents home after college and married my best friend. We had 54 1/2 years of great friendship.  It was such an amazing journey through life with him. We enjoyed years of goal setting and accomplishments.  We were partners in raising six children and fulfilling our mutual desires.  We dreamed our dreams and worked on them through the years. We sort of melted into one person, instead of two, living together.

Then, life happened, and he left me abruptly.  I now realize I came into this world as an individual…I traveled these years as an individual…I will leave this world as an individual.

I cannot expect anyone to be responsible for me.  I don’t have to get permission from anyone to do something.  Sometimes there is no one that actually knows what I am doing or cares what I am doing.

I am alone.

As this concept occurs to me, I find that there is some good and some not so good things to this.  The good is the independence.  If I want to eat chocolate all day I can do that.  I am the only one that is accountable.  But eating chocolate alone is no fun.  As a person that always had a partner, I really prefer the connection to another person.  I want someone to know where I am and what I am doing.

There are lessons to be learned here.  First, I think we have to appreciate the persons with which we are connected.  With all of their faults or irritations, we need to stop and consider that if they were not there, we would be so lonesome.

Second, I think we need to prepare ourselves for the alone-ness.  What will you do if you find yourself alone without people around you. Do you have hobbies? Do you have projects to do?  Can you amuse yourself enough to be alone? Do you feel comfortable reaching out and starting over to find new relationships?

I am very alone.
I am experiencing major loneliness.

My comfort so far has come as I am experiencing a great joy in my relationship with God. I am trying to deal with this new individual life.  It is God’s will and he will give me the courage to be alone. Then someday, as an individual, I will return again to God just as I came alone from Him.

One of the many Voids

As life rolls along, we are not very conscious of the specifics of daily actions.  We get caught up in our to do list, take actions and perform tasks and count it as normal behaviors.  We don’t sit down each night and evaluate what was done, by whom and whether the actions were excellent, good or poor.

Most of us live with others and we melt together as each person takes on roles and responsibilities.  Some people fix the coffee each morning, others load the dishwasher, while others pay bills or cook.  The fact is, all of us fall into a routine of doing our thing.

I enjoy cleaning while Ray, my husband, was a lover of laundry.  I did the taxes while he paid the bills.  After 53 years, we were a great team that had divided all chores and did not have to say, “Are you going to take out the trash?”

You may say we had fallen into a comfortable living where we very seldom had to ask each other their thoughts or feelings.  We just knew because we had shared everything and had grown to be almost one.  I think that is a successful marriage.  We never took each other for granted but we had a definite division of labor.

Since July when he died, I find myself overwhelmed with tasks that I never had to do before.  I am at the beach house and we have just survived 8 days of subfreezing weather.  It seems like it was a month.

Dripping water each night to keep the lines from freezing.  Trying to understand what to do with water lines under the pools and how to turn breaker boxes off to protect things.  Figuring out how to turn off water to the house because there are now leaks in water lines because we are finally above freezing.

I had to hire plumbers, electricians, and painters.  I had always been the 2nd in command of our many building projects, but now find I am the leader.

I am not qualified to be the leader.  This is being baptized by fire.  I am using a compressor, a nail gun, buying equipment and making decisions as if I were trained to do it.

Frankly, I would much rather be 2nd in command.  It was so comforting knowing that Ray knew what he was doing and I could just relax.  But there are two lessons in what I am now going through.

  1. Husbands, thank your wife each day for the great job she is doing as she juggles her schedule and does her assigned tasks. Wives, thank your husband each day and hug him for all the things he does in his role and his assigned tasks.
  2. Pretend that your partner might disappear tomorrow and you have to do your and your partners chores.  Pay attention to the details.  How do you care for the car?  Where are the records for the maintenance of the house and the vehicles?

Have discussions on each others’ tasks so you will know how it is done, who needs to be notified, what vendors are your favorite, and what skills you need to be able to take over.

Over and over I say, pay attention.  You are not promised tomorrow.  But as much as Ray and I talked about the possibility, I have so much to learn by trial and error.

Thankfully, I think I am doing pretty good.  But I know that I cannot take the credit.  God is with me every morning as I think of the new chores I have to accomplish.  He is guiding me and helping me and I am so thankful.  It is not easy doing both jobs.  But I am learning.

CARDS

Have you ever wondered if your card made a difference?  Sometimes we send cards because we care.  Sometimes we send cards because we feel obligated.  Sometimes we send cards so we can let others know we are good people.  You know, sitting around in a group and saying, ” I spent my morning sending get well cards. So many people seem to be sick”.

But what about the receiver?  Does it matter that we send cards.  Honestly, I cannot speak for other people, but I am so thankful that someone remembered me enough to take a card, write a note, address the envelope, stamp it and put it in the mail.  That is a chore. That takes time.  That takes brain power and physical energy.

Yesterday I started putting the cards we received, after my husband died, into plastic sleeves and into notebooks so we can read them over and over.  There are 182 cards.  Big cards, little cards, expensive cards, less expensive cards.  Lots of beautiful cards.  Cards of sunsets, sunrises, flowers, poems, butterflies, beaches, famous paintings, and so many more pretty things.

There were some homemade cards.  Clever and beautiful.  There were cards made by children.  So special.  There were computer generated cards that were personalized with Ray’s name in them.  I was so impressed.

But most impressive are the notes written in the cards by the sender.  There is so much care expressed in these notes.  You can feel the sentiment of the writer and how they are trying hard to show you how much they are hurting for you.  You can feel their agony as they are letting you know that they cannot imagine the shock and horror of this tragedy. They are sincere, honest and open with their feelings.

You can tell they are thinking, “What if this happened to me?  I cannot imagine the pain connected to a sudden death like this”.  On these pretty written pages you feel the raw emotions of your friends, family and acquaintances.  You feel the strong human expressions of love.

Cards can be bought for fifty cents or cards can be bought for several dollars.  If you buy in bulk they can be even less expensive.  Some of the sayings and poems in the cards are right on target to tell the story that you wish to send. As I sit and read the cards over and over, I can just visualize you at the counter picking out the one that says what you want it to say.  Card writers are marvelous with their wit and their understanding and their ability to hit the point.

But it is not the expense of the card nor the beauty of the card.  It is the note that is written by you that causes it to mean so much.  These notes are hard to write.  So many people said, “Words are just not available to let you know how much I hurt for you”.  I get it.  It is very hard to know what to say and how to say it.  But it is enough that you make the effort.

Just write the most honest and sincere thing in your head.  In a few words, open up your heart and let this person feel your joy, your hurt, your concern and your faith.  The receiver knows you are caring about them when you send the card.  Now let them see your feelings for them.  But do more than sign your name, write a few words to let the receiver know how you feel.

It does not matter if you spend 25 cents, 50 cents or four dollars on the card.  It is the written notes inside that mean so much.  I cherish every card that I got.  I read them over and over.  You bring me so much comfort.  I thank you all, my friends, that you spent the time, the energy, the effort to write to me and help me find my peace.

 

 

 

SOME DEEP THOUGHTS

As you might guess, we have discussed a lot of theology since my husband died.  Was this God’s plan?  Do we all have our days numbered?  Are we born with a definite death date and way of dying?

So there has been a lot of thinking ,sharing, discussions and opinions on these topics. There has also been a lot of interesting thoughts thrown out.  I am not sure yet where I stand on any of these.  But I am willing to share what we have discussed.

Theory one is that, when we are born, there is a definite plan that is finite and is to be carried out in spite of what happens in other parts of our lives. This seems to me to be a bit rigid but then I am not the higher power so maybe that is the order of the world.  The Bible does talk about numbered days and the knowledge that God knows even the hairs on our heads (Matthew 10:30 And even the very hairs of you head are all numbered.) So who am I to say that there cannot be a master road map for our lives?

Theory two says that there is a basic master plan but there is also free will.  So there are choices we make and some of those choices will lead to death during our lives. This would include drinking while driving as a negative, as well as poor health choices.  One person suggested to me that we have as many as three or four scenarios when we are born and we basically could choose any one at any point to go back home to heaven.  If you stay through all of the plan, you have to go back on the last exit strategy.

Theory three has a larger role of free will.  We are born and we have lots of choices from the beginning and our choices play a large part in how and when we die.  Overriding all of this is the fact that, at any given time, God has the power and can and will call us back to heaven. So, in spite of our choices, our time may be up just because God wants us or needs us back home.

As I stated earlier, I am not sure where I stand on these theories yet.  I certainly believe in free will.  The Bible teaches about choices.  If theory one is a fact, it sure would be nice to know when you are dating to avoid falling in love with someone with a short term plan.  I have become interested in people’s thoughts about the transition from this physical world to the spiritual world.  I am surprised at the amount of books on the subject and the amount of research that is being done in the area.

I guess, there are a few facts that I do know.  (1) Everyone dies.  It is a natural part of life. Do not act surprised about death.  It is inevitable  (2) You are not promised tomorrow.  So be prepared.  Do not leave your house in the morning with assurance that you will return in the evening.  In other words, make your bed so you won’t be embarrassed.  (3) Get your affairs in order.  Your loved ones need not be burdened by your lazy lack of preparation.  Wills, labels on knick knacks, funeral plans and clean garages are to be done. (4) Get right with God.  Since you do not know how and when, you had better be on good terms with the power to be.  I mean intimate, talking every day terms.

The Big Bang might be a good TV show, but when I die, I am putting my stock in my Savior.  He has proven over and over to carry me through this world.  I just don’t think physics, chemistry, sticks and rocks have that same power.  I don’t have the answers about the theories.  But I do have the blessed assurance that God is real.