Welcome

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

*****EXCITING NEWS*****

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


Ponderings

Ponderings

Saturday, March 14, 2015

Do 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. 

"Warrrsh". 

"Ok  Mom, let's try hambuuurger."

"Hamboooger."

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?!

Sunday, March 1, 2015

Mt. Dew in the Cowboy Boot
























It was just an ordinary day grocery shopping in Krogers, the grocery store in town. Just minding my own business walking down the aisles picking up this and that off the shelves. I rounded the corner when what to my wondering eyes should appear. . .a cowboy putting a 2 liter bottle of Mt. Dew down a cowboy boot. . .yep. . .that's what I said.

I had to take a double take. He caught me and smiled. "Ma,m," he said, "These boots cost me $800 and they are too tight on my calves. I took them to a shoe place and they couldn't stretch the calf part so I thought maybe this 2 liter would do it. He's pushing the liter down the boot the whole time he's talking. "I think this will work, don't you?"  I guess, I just hope it doesn't bust and ruin your boots."
"Oh no, it's not going to bust", he says.

Now he's trying to pull the 2 liter of Mt. Dew out of the book and it won't come. It's stuck. He looks at me. I'm still staring. "Ma'm, would you mind helping me?"  "Not at all sir." He grabs the neck of the bottle and I grab the foot of the boot and we both pull. I notice the other customers staring as they come around the corner and they just keep on walking. The cowboy and I keep pulling and pulling and pulling. Then pop! The bottle came out of the boot. "Thank you ma'm, I sure do appreciate it."
"No problem sir, have a good day." And off I go to the milk section.

You just never know what will happen when you go out your front door. I tried to come up with a lesson to go with this story...I kept pondering and pondering...

Be kind to strangers?
Be helpful to fellow customers?
If your boots are too tight, stick a 2 liter bottle down them?
Don't be afraid to ask a stranger for help?
If spending $800 on boots, make sure they fit first?!
 
Hhmmm, I'm just not sure. I'm going to have to ponder some more on this one.  But I did get a giggle out of it and so did he.
 
Do you see a lesson in this?
Please do share.