Why a blog from me, someone who has never been a writer, someone who has never been articulate or had a solid grasp of the grammar world. Because God told me to write. Several years ago a life storm invaded my family. God kept telling me to write it all down. I argued, but He would not let up. This went on every day for a couple of weeks until one day out of frustration, (I'd like to say it was out of obedience), I picked up a pen and paper and wrote for 7 hours straight! Do you think maybe I needed therapy and God knew it?

I've been writing ever since and have learned to love it! I started out sharing my stories with friends and family. I've now been published in a Nashville church paper, Our Daily Journey (a devotional site of RBC Ministries), PCCWeb Daily Devotional, Ruby for Women Ezine Magazine, and I am a contributor in the book Alabaster Jars, Life in Abundance Collection 2.

Why Ponderings? During this life storm, God led me to a pond in the woods behind my home. There He met me each time, teaching new lessons, reminding me of old ones, showing His presence and allowing me to feel His love through the surroundings of that pond. I found myself returning over and over to ponder, pray and praise. A healing of my heart took place and out of the experience came my first book, Ponderings From the Pond, then a second book, Ponderings From My Porch, and now a third book is in the works along with a memoir about my storm.

Why am I making myself so vulnerable? Because God has done so much that I cannot keep quiet. I have to share. Jesus's last words to his desciples were, "Go,tell." We are his disciples too and this is just one of my ways of telling.

I'm no scholar but I have heard God's voice in my spirit, experience His love daily, and have a desire for others to experience this also. I would love to share with all who visit and I would love to hear from you. If my sharing gets just one to ponder, to be quiet with the Father, to see and hear from Him or to be reminded of something from Him, then this is worth my vulnerability.

As you visit me, sometimes we will be at the pond, sometimes we will move to the front porch, and sometimes we will just be here, there, and yonder. Thank you for coming and please feel free to come back anytime, you are always welcome here.

May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be pleasing in your sight, O Lord, my Rock and my Redeemer.

Psalm 19:14


My first book, Ya Know What I'm Say'n, has been released.



Tuesday, April 15, 2014

You Paid It All

I heard the testimony of a young man. His name is Wes Morgan.

Wes Morgan was a young man who was hauled off to jail after a car crash hurting two of his friends. Wes was a drug user and drug dealer. Sitting in jail, he cried out to God and God met him there inside the prison bars. They had a talk. And Wes was set free in more ways than one.

He heard, "He who seeks Me is free indeed."
John 8:36

Wes said what you magnify will manifest. He began to magnify his Savior through worship. He turned his circumstances into worship which caused Christ to be the one magnified.

Wes has been delivered and free for over seven years and is now a pastor.

Wes sings to and for his Lord.

As we sit here in Holy Week pondering over what Jesus Christ did for us, let us worship too. If you are in circumstances that you do not like, turn to Him and begin to magnify Him in worship. Let's magnify Him and not our circumstances and believe He will work through those in His time.

~Let's worship now the One who paid it all. . .for us~


Thursday, April 10, 2014

God Help Us

"God help us. We must go to people. Listen to people. Start where they are, not where we want them to be. And from their point of need, lovingly share the good news." 
Lysa Terkeurst
I heard the words from my first critic since my book Ya Know What I'm Say'n : Hearing the Voice of the Homeless came out. I have had an outpouring of love and support and the sales are very encouraging but I knew it was coming, and it did.
The newspaper did an article on me and the Blanket Ministry I had started and the book I had written and a lady saw it and decided to criticize on facebook. I do not know her.
I was told by many that when you put words out there for the public to see, you need to be sure you have thick skin for the critics. I found out mine is tough enough to take it, I was ok, but still tender enough that compassion is still here and it always will be.
The critic in a nutshell said I was enabling the homeless and she hoped I would take all my proceeds and buy them homes out in the country where I lived.
The only thing I would like to have seen happen is this:
Talk to me and get to know me and what I am about.
Get facts on the ministries before criticizing them.
Before criticizing a book, please read it first.
And my question back to her would be . .
"What is your answer if we don't go to them and help if they so choose to take it, to step out of the dire, depressed sinking hole they are in? Ignoring does no good. Complaining from our comfortable chairs does no good.
I like Lisa's words above and they sound a lot like something Jesus told us to do. . .
When people see a snippet and does not follow up with facts, they miss so much.
There have been wonderful, happy endings from the bridge.
There are homeless who are now homeless no more.
The critics want there to be no homeless.
But the critics do not seem to realize that when you reach out a helping hand with a loving heart, sharing the love of Christ and showing the despaired one where they can find Hope,
the numbers on the street can begin to diminish.
But, it takes time.
And for those who show up, they could use prayer.
If one wants or needs to stay in the comfort of their home, then I would just ask,
Please, don't criticize, please pray for strength for all involved, guidance from the Lord, and an abundance of grace and love to give.
And please, be patient. Many good things take time.
I welcome all opinions.
I just ask kindness and respect and please know the facts.
God help us all. . .please and thank you!
If you would like to read the rest of Lysa TerKeurst's post, you can find it here:

If you are interested in the book Ya Know What I'm Say'n, please click on the book cover to the right and it will take you to the Amazon site.

~Thank you and God bless you~ 

Monday, April 7, 2014

Grace In The Dentist Office

I found myself sitting in the waiting room of the dentist office while my son was in the back getting work done.  I had taken a book to read to pass the time, but I kept getting distracted by the people coming in.  The first one was a man who appeared to be in his early thirties.  He was sporting a bright purple Mohawk on his head with multiple piercings on his face.  I couldn’t help it. . .I stared. . .for just a second or two.  Then in came a teen age boy with his mother.  He was deaf.  They sat in the corner and seemed to be arguing. . .in sign language.  I couldn’t help it. . .I stared. . . for just a second or two. . .it fascinated me.  Then in came a young couple.  She was VERY pregnant.  I noticed no wedding band on her finger.  What I really noticed was her dirty feet and nails slipped into flip flops.  I couldn’t help it. . .I stared. . .for just a second or two. 

I wondered about each one of them and what their story was.  All kinds of scenarios went through my mind.  It’s so easy to put a story with an outer appearance and yet I’ve learned from my interviewing the homeless, that what is on the inside does not always match the outside.  The Lord knew this. . .I believe this is why we read in His Word. . . “For man looks on the outward appearance but the Lord looks at the heart.”  I quote this verse many times when talking about the homeless.  And yet, this day in the dentist office, I found myself staring, on the brink of judging.  And then I looked down at the book in my lap.  Guess what the title of it was?  “Why Jesus” by Ravi Zacharius.

Why Jesus?  Because he loves the purple Mohawks, the dirty feet, the argumentative teen. . .and me.  Why Jesus?  Because He gave His life to give us the ultimate gift. . .Grace.  I know of no other who gives grace and teaches us to give the same as He. 

Grace. . .an undeserved gift.  A gift I ask people to give to the “least of these.”  Was I issuing grace by staring and letting my mind wander?  Was I a messenger giving good news?  Not this day.  As I let my mind wander, one by one, each one in the waiting room was called to the back.  I found myself alone again.  I don’t know if I messed up this day or not, but as I was starting to beat myself up about staying quiet I was reminded,  I’ve been set free, I was lost but now I’m found, was blind, but now I see, this wretch was saved for ever and ever.  I don’t know where those people stand, if they will be at the banquet table or not.  So I prayed for each one, that if they are not now, they will be found, sight to be opened, and grace given to set them free. 

The purple Mohawk was very friendly and had a great smile.  The dirty feet and arguing deaf boy sweetly smiled at me too before leaving.  I smiled back.  Did they issue grace?  They might not have realized it, but I felt like I had received it.

Grace is such a powerful thing. It can float around a room and you think you know where it will land and then it lands right on you. My son left the office this day with cleaner teeth and I left with a more grace filled soul.  Three people touched me, though they never knew it.  I won’t waste it.  I will pass it on.  Oh amazing grace, how sweet the sound, how sweet the touch!

Tuesday, April 1, 2014

You Know You're a Blogger When. . .

( a repost because this blogger has been busy but I hope to get back to it soon. . .and, everything below still pertains)
You Know You're A Blogger When . . .
. . .you start carrying a camera everywhere you go.

. . .every sentence sounds like a post title.

. . .you have post it notes all over the room with post ideas.

. . .when you start having dreams at night about your posts.

. . .when you've learned what HTML code is and how to transfer it.

. . .you understand what a link party is.

. . .when you see a field of cow patties and your first thought is, "How could that be made into a post?"

. . .when you burn your pot holders and you immediately take a picture of them and write a post about it.

. . .when you see your button on other's blog sites.

. . .when you're willing to devulge your age for the sake of a post.

. . .when you begin to have a lot more friends from around the world than you do in your small circle.

. . .when you devulge the most vulnerable part of yourself, your, hurts, your craziness, praying it will help others.

. . .when people start coming to you, telling how your posts have helped and they share their stories with you.

. . .when people begin to publish your stories.

Never in a million years did I ever think I would write to share with the world. But then God spoke the word "Write" and I ignored.  He spoke again and I argued, He spoke again and again and again.  He kept telling me, "Share from your heart, and I will do the rest." I weakly said, "Ok." 
I'm so glad I did.   It has become a joy to write, to learn, to make new friends, even to become vulnerable and share hard things, because it has brought many to me who have shared their hard stories with me and we have the priveledge to bring these things before the Lord together.
What an honor that is and as I've said before, may all the things from this place bring glory and honor to the One who started all of this.
And if anything is good here, it is all from Him.
Thank you Father!

"It's a strange thought that sometimes God trusts us more

than we trust Him. Maybe all along He was saying "I knew

you could. I know what's in you. I know what's in you

because I am in you. And I am your all surpassing power

in a jar of clay. Watch me show off,

from the inside out".
Beth Moore

Thursday, March 27, 2014

I Don't Think They Warsh in Spain

Mom, it's wash, not warsh. . .

Mom, it's hamburger, not hambooger. . .

My 21 year old son stands in the kitchen laughing as I try to say hamburger and wash the correct way.  What he doesn't get is I am a born and bred Oklahoman.  In Oklahoma my way is the right way. But we now live in Kentucky where he has spent more of his life.

We giggle as he keeps trying to teach me to say waaash. . .nor warrrsh. Hambuuuurrrger. . .not hambooooger.

"Mom, quit pursing your lips, open your mouth more. . .waaash. 


"Ok  Mom, let's try hambuuurger."


I try it over and over and over in between the giggling. He's cracking up.

The scene enters my mind from the musical My Fair Lady where Henry Higgins tries to teach Eliza Doolittle to speak like a proper English lady, thereby making her presentable to high society.

She had to keep repeating over and over and over the phrase. . ."The rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain", until she got it right.

I can say that!

My son does not care about high society, he just thinks his mom should be able to say those two little words properly. What he doesn't get is that in Oklahoma, that is proper. But I'm not there anymore, so should I try harder?

I think about the people born and raised in the South with their Hey Darlin's?  Don't they know there is a "ing" on the end of that word.  Personally, I think it's charming. And after being in Kentucky for ten years, I'm becoming more charmin' myself.

The the more I think about it, I think it could be charming that I say what I say the way I say it. It's really hard to purse the lips with words you're not used to pursing for and to open the mouth wider for words you don't normally open the mouth wide for.  It's SO much work. I can lose the "ing" but I just cannot seem to lose the R in warsh and I'm sorry, but hambooger is just so much easier for me to say.

I love you son but I just don't think I can think so hard every time I say those words.

I don't think he really cares. It gives him something to laugh at and I am AOK with that.

I've wasted enough time here. I need to go tell my son to bring the warsh to the laundry room and then we need to go get some hamboogers.  I'm hungry! And a sweet tea on the side.

Wouldn't that be loverly?!