Rushing's Ramblings

I don’t often have nightmares, but they are disturbing and vivid when I do. The first part of my day yesterday was spent leading a meeting which was enjoyable for the most part, although the freezing drizzle triggered PTSD from last year's hip dislocation that landed me on ice. My brilliantly witty friend, who also takes care of my hair, helped lighten the afternoon (and my hair) with deep discussions about everything necessary and frequent laugh-out-loud moments. I haven’t watched TV news since the day after the November 2016 election. My base level of anxiety cannot handle the negative news slant of TV anchors and reporters. However, I understand the limited time to present the news. If they only reported positive stories, the information would never end. Instead, I read the NYT, CNN, Austin Statesman, NPR, etc. What I read about the Russian invasion left me with a cloud gathering over my head before the day started. After an eventful day, I fell fast asleep and began dreami...

Maybe it’s just me, but as I watched my six-year-old grandson stand with his back against the wall to measure his growth in the past several months, I experienced conflicting emotions.  It had been a few weeks since I last saw him, and it seemed he had grown a foot when I first saw him running into the room where I was sitting and visiting with my daughter.  While knowing that his growth was an accomplishment and a reason to celebrate, I felt sadness that time kept racing by.  Wasn’t it yesterday when I flew to Seattle from South Florida and held my beautiful, precious grandson in my arms less than 24 hours after his birth?   After having conflicting feelings about Patrick’s growth progress, I wondered what his world would be like in another 12 years or so when he’s fully grown.  I’ll be 84 by then if I’m still alive.  My life will almost be over, but my abject concern and sorrow lie in the future for my grandchildren. Will our coun...

  I’ll admit the old aphorism “There are no atheists in a foxhole” applies to me.  Religion, especially the organized kind, is not my cup of tea.  It’s just that I’ve known too many “Christians” throughout my life who were anything but followers of Jesus.  Often, they are nasty individuals who use their “Christian values” as a weapon. People who are faithful followers are rare indeed.  They aren’t the ones who constantly wear Christianity on their sleeves by praying and declaring their faith.  They aren’t the ones who feel superior because they attend church. They aren’t business owners that advertise as “Christian” (run, don’t walk!). They aren’t the owners of assault weapons. I’ve known a few people who quietly follow the teachings of Jesus by loving others, but I’ve also known many who don’t identify as Christians and are dedicated to a life of service.   I was raised in a church and forced to attend every time the doors ope...

I've lived in many places and learned many years ago that moving all my possessions only weighed me down. Leaving furniture in several cities where I lived and buying the latest furnished house suits me. The current furniture collection will be left for the next owner of this abode. I've mastered letting go of most things, not living and even some living things, which means I've been alone most of my adult life! Books are usually given away as soon as they are read. I won't reread them because it would take me many lifetimes to devour the excellent literature available now and in the future. Besides, what better way to show love than to give someone a book you've enjoyed and know they will, too? A few years ago, a wildfire was coming perilously close to my house. The local authorities imposed mandatory evacuation. After seeing smoke rising above the trees across from my residence, I packed everything I needed in a hurry. My most loved possession in the house ...

  Yesterday, the wind was gusting to 50 mph.  It was a blustery, unpleasant day to be outside.  We were driving on a backroad near Georgetown when my six-year-old grandson looked up and exclaimed, “A bird is struggling in the sky!”  As we sat at the light watching the bird make no progress with his wings flapping furiously against the wind, we kept screaming at him to turn around. The bird was very determined to continue fighting the headwind but going nowhere.  We wondered if his little body would not survive the strain of fighting the wind and fall from the sky.  Finally, he flew sideways to the nearest power line to rest after his struggle, and we drove away with the satisfaction that the bird would fly for another day.   Later that day, my thoughts drifted to the little bird that fought the wind bravely but finally surrendered.  I thought about all the years I’ve tried to make a difference by working with like-min...

DEDICATION   Stinky Butts was written in response to our County Judge banning two books from the local library because of the words “farting” and “butt” in the titles.  Children love scatological humor.  The words butt and farting never hurt a child.  While small groups of people around the country are busy banning books, our children are being trained to protect themselves from people entering the classrooms with assault rifles.  It’s easier to ban books than ban ARs killing our children.  Let’s encourage our children to read books.     Stinky Butts is dedicated to our County Judge.  May he open his eyes to see.   To my two grandchildren: I love you with all my heart.  You bring me endless joy.   This book should be read to young children by parents.  Please feel free to expound on the page about sharing feelings by giving children examples of how they might express themselves ...

  My daughter and her family do not attend church and follow no religious doctrine. And before you pass judgment on her beliefs, or rather non-beliefs, you should know that she is more generous and compassionate toward those less fortunate than anyone I know, including all the “good” Christians I’ve met along the way.    It got our attention when my six-year-old grandson, Patrick, recently revealed that God speaks to him.  When I asked what God said, he replied, “He tells me hello.”  I responded that it must be comforting to have God whispering in his ear.  He casually agreed and flatly stated, “It is.”   I received a message from him a few days ago while he was visiting London with his parents.  He texted, “I believe in God and see Jesus at the graveyard.  I swear.” Whatever image he was experiencing had to be vital for me to know, so I texted back, “I support whatever you believe because I’ll always love you.” ...