A little water color painting fun. I guess since Grandma Moses didn't start painting until she was 80 years old, I have at least 20 years on her to get some practice in. This is a monotone posterized photo of one of my grandchildren which I painted from a tutorial I found on line. Easy, fun, and I was surprisingly satisfied with the result for a first attempt! 

This was another tutorial I found online that helped me remember and learn some techniques for water color painting. All that is left to do is paint... and paint... and paint. Practice is what i need now. 

Dr. Craig Childres on Parental Alienation and what you can and can not do.

http://drcraigchildressblog.com/2014/07/29/stark-reality/

A Birthday Wish

In my home town in Bakersfield, California we host one of largest Relay for Life events in the United States. This annual event happens the first weekend in May. Because of the proximity of the event location to my home, I can leave my windows open and hear the entire event taking place. Traffic is crazy around here that weekend, but its a very exciting time full of celebration, fun, friendship and remembrance as teams raise dollars for the American Cancer Society, Relay's parent organization. If you look at the American Cancer Society's website, you will see their tagline, “the official sponsor of birthdays”.This year's Relay event raised $1,294,331.62 in Kern County alone. That must be some birthday they are sponsoring! Today, May 18, marks a birthday that is special to me. My late daughter in law, Morgan Welch, would have been 32 years old today. Her family in Florida will gather at her grave site, place flowers there, and add another little angel or other figurine to the collection of treasures they bring to her each year. There is a magnolia tree near the grave that opens its huge, creamy white, fragrant blooms around the time of her birthday each year. I spent some time this past week reflecting on birthdays in my life. At 23, I was a new bride, and would soon discover I was expecting my first child. Morgan became a bride in that year of her life too. That year she noticed a persistent little sore that resembled an insect bite on her breast. It was treated with antibiotics and told to go have a wonderful wedding and not to worry about it. In July she was married to a handsome young groom dressed in Air Force Dress Blues at her home church in Fort Walton Beach, Florida. She was diagnosed with IBC five weeks after her wedding day. When I celebrated my 24th birthday back in 1981, I was in the thick of life as a new mom with my firstborn son, Mark. He would grow up to be that handsome groom that stole Morgan's heart and hand in marriage. When Morgan turned 24 in 2005, she was deep in the fight for her life against stage 4 IBC. Morgan would not live to see another birthday. Morgan died in January of 2006 from Inflammatory Breast Cancer. Back then there were few sources of information about IBC, and there was little research happening for this disease. There was no money to fund research for a “rare” form of cancer. The squeaky wheel gets the grease, and those with IBC apparently didn't squeak loud enough to be heard or perhaps they didn't know how to squeak or to whom they should squeak. But that doesn't mean that women of all ages were not being diagnosed with the disease. The average life expectancy from the point of diagnosis of IBC in 2006 was 2 years. Two years! There was much reason for despair. But not everyone was willing to take it on the chin, and one of those people was Morgan Welch. She had an incredible team of compassionate, intelligent, savvy medical professionals on her side. She had a husband who was faithful and true, her helpmate, her caretaker, her support and her cheerleader. She had family on both coasts and people all over the world praying for her. And she had a desire to live! What she didn't have was the financial support needed to undergird the research to conquer her disease. She asked why nobody was doing research. Why wasn’t anybody greasing the wheel of IBC research? The answer was simple: money. And she and her husband, with their youth and faith and grace and courage, kept asking why, and kept insisting that surely somebody could do something to help them! They charged the doctors to seek out the support dollars they needed to get to the bottom of IBC. Morgan and Mark said, to their medical team, “Help us! And if you can't save Morgan, don't give up! Keep searching until you find a cure for the rest of the women who suffer from this horrible disease, and don't give up until you find a cure.” And that medical team, they were inspired, and they set their sights on conquering IBC. Now Morgan and Mark were only two people and they didn’t make the whole thing happen. I cant even begin to count all the wonderful people who worked to make it happen. I will never know them all. But I am thankful for every blessed soul who worked to make the dream of research for a cure for IBC come alive. And I was thrilled to be there on the day of the dedication of the Morgan Welch Inflammatory Breast Cancer Clinic at M D Anderson Medical Center in Houston, Texas. The story doesnt end there. The research continues. The need for funding continues. And the women I am privileged to know today who are living--LIVING-- with IBC, their lives continue. Thank God their lives continue! And we want them to be able to celebrate the day with them when they hear their doctors say, "NED: no evidence of disease." And we can't have that celebration without the research, and research costs dollars. Its that simple. We mark the years of our lives by remembering our birthdays. We also use the anniversary of a birth to reflect on those who have lived and died and left an imprint on our hearts. Today I am remembering Morgan, and how this young woman imprinted on my heart. I invite you to join me in remembering Morgan today on her birthday. Would you join me? Would you make a donation to the IBC Network Foundation Advocacy group in honor of Morgan’s birthday? Think of it as your personal sponsorship of future birthdays for every woman living today with IBC today. Morgan would have liked that.

Out from Behind My Fear

So its one thing to think about doing outreach events. I think about them a lot. And that’s about all. But my women’s Wednesday night Life Group at my church havs been studying the book of Acts this year. Its impossible to read and consider Acts and not be inspired by Paul’s story. It was a natural progression of our study that in February we were challenged to put our feet to the pavement and actually DO an outreach event. For me, the fear was never far from my thoughts as we planned the caper. The idea of walking up to strangers and saying anything besides, “Excuse me, do you have the time?” was pretty much out of the question. But I was roped in. That happens when you are involved in a small group: nowhere to hide. The plan was simple enough. We would bake cookies and bag ‘em up, then deliver them to the residents of the apartment complex next door to the church the week of Valentine’s Day. Our objective was to simply greet the people and tell them that God loves them and our church is nearby. So we bought cases of frozen cookie dough because it simplified the task of preparation. Thank God for Otis Spunkmeyer and those cute little cookie dough pucks he makes! Several woman gathered to bake the cookie dough on a recent Saturday. And then on Tuesday Feb. 11 a few women met to package up our baked and frozen cookies. Then Wednesday, Feb 12, instead of sitting at tables discussing Acts, at 6:30 PM we divided ourselves into teams, passed our maps of the property, and headed to Park Sorrento Apartments just east of us on Bernard St.to give away cookies. Someone was singing "onward Christian Soldiers" as we drove to the parking lot and I felt silly, like a kid being encouraged to march. But she was right to pump us up in song, and that song carried us through the first steps, armed with cookie bags, to the apartment complex doors. I hesitated, then knocked. Many people were taken aback at someone showing up at their door with a gift. Some tried to pay for the gift. Two or three refused the gift. Most smiled and thanked us and graciously received the gift. A few wanted more information and we gave that to them. All recipients got contact information on the package pointing them to Heritage Bible Church. By the time we left Park Sorrento at 7:50 PM, we had delivered cookies to almost all of 264 apartment units. We had accomplished a step into relationship with our neighbors and we all agreed enthusiastically that we must plan another event soon to connect again with our new friends. As for my fear? Well when I knocked on that first door, God answered, a grateful person accepted our humble gift, and there was nothing more to fear.