Don't wait until tomorrow because today is when God wants to work in your life!

Brand new day. Brand new month. Brand new forecast. Same old, and getting older by the day, me. It's a joke. You can either laugh with me or at me on this Thursday, September 1, 2011. The forecast is different but it is not what they had said last Monday, that one has slipped to Friday and I've been around long enough to know that sometimes they just keep on slipping, slipping, until they slip slide away. But we continue to anticipate a change in the weather and when it does not happen it will give us some really good stuff to complain about, as if we didn't already have enough. The other day when I wrote about all those white haired people in the waiting room, my mom asked if I realized I was one too. I gave it to her straight. I told her that I couldn't see me, I could only see them and for some reason as I sat in that chair I had this foreboding sense that this is how it will be for the rest of my life. I enjoy talking. Ask those who know me. But, when I am on a mission, like going to the doctor, I'm not too much into forth and back chatter. I like to get in and get out but others actually asked me why I was there. It's a eye doctor's joint. I certainly didn't come to get my teeth cleaned and I could have done without the excruciating details from the group regarding their last cataract surgeries. But, to each his own, and next time maybe I will have them dilate my eyes when I first arrive then I can be 100% anonymous, you know, I can't see them, therefore, I don't exist, or something like that.

I'm not complaining, just making observations. Or as they say in today's lingo, "just saying." I know I can be critical. Like this elderly lady at the doctors last week. She was sitting there in the dark room with the rest of us and the doctor walked by and spotted her. Suddenly, it was like the doctor had found her long lost friend and she came in and they just gushed forth and back with each other. What's up with that? Don't you see we are all sitting here swapping eye surgery stores, waiting on you to call our name, and here you are having a reunion instead of taking care of business? I know. I know. All the white haired ladies thought how nice, how sweet. Me? Don't you have something better to do? Then they finally call your name. Some of the folks had walking problems but they always ask them to walk 'this way'. It reminds me of an old joke I heard when I was a kid. The man goes into the drug store, (Yes, Virginia, they used to be called that, not a pharmacy.), and asked for the young lady to show him where the talcum powder was located. She tells him to walk this way and starts prancing down the aisle. He responded by saying, "Young lady, if I could walk that way I wouldn't be needing the talcum powder." Okay. It was funny way back when. Maybe not today.


It really is good to be able to laugh now and then. I just hope and pray that I never lose my sense of humor. I know that bad health and difficult circumstances can wear one down, making it hard to find room for a smile, much less a laugh. However, it doesn't have to be that way. We were talking the other day about my wife's mom. She was a very funny lady with her quick wit and whimsical come backs. I was recalling my last conversation with her as she was in her final hours. Her voice was weak but in it I could still detect that all familiar joking way of hers. She passed on a couple of days later and I can tell you it was no picnic but I will always treasure that last little verbal smile we shared together. I also know that her faith under girded her entire life, therefore, she knew her destination, and perhaps that's why she maintained her sense of humor until the end. I pray that I will be able to do the same but we never know for sure until we get there. Now that's a pretty profound piece of obvious observation to leave with you to ponder for today. Have a great Thursday and if you happen to be where it's cool, then rejoice a little for the rest of us. Amen.             .....More later.