A new Chevy Impala
My old car lasted as long as it did

Redemption
“To Seek and Save” is completely rewritten and finally up to snuff
Unconditional love

Repairmen who arrive when they say they will
Free lance contracts
Having more time to be myself

Tenderness on tough days
New Living Translation
A writing space,  complete with wood stove and cowboy accessories

New teachers for the 20something Connection Group
References
A new job

Pen pals
Frontline Flea and Tick Control
A great interest rate

Family, no matter what
Being published in Chicken Soup for the Soul
Celebrating Dad’s 90th birthday

Curl spritz
Being flu-free so far
Volunteers

FEMA legislation
Saying hi to friendly faces in the hallway between church services
Faithfulness

Called To Write Conference and winning the devotional contest
Friends who watch and pray with me
Friends who tell me to get over myself

Max Lucado books
My street is one of the first cleared in a snow storm
Dad’s auction bargains

Fresh healing for old wounds
Dark days that help me see how bright the light shines
Bananas that are perfectly ripe

Veterans
My 401(k) is rebounding
Chris Tomlin songs

Sermons that are dead on
Strangers who catch runaway dogs and bring them home
Baking

God has a plan for it all and it leads to victory.

“Never stop praying. Be thankful in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you who belong to Christ Jesus.”
I Thessalonians 5:17-18

“Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, chocolate in one hand, martini in the other, body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming “Woo-hoo! What a ride!”

That’s how the Alero lived and when we careened around the corner and screeched to a stop at the car lot, there was no doubt that it had given every last drop of life. The little green puddle underneath was proof.

Purchasing the Alero had been one of the biggest financial decisions of my life. Or at least it felt like it at the time. When car shopping in 2001, I visited dozens of dealerships and drove hundreds of cars. I figured out what I wanted but was so disgusted by car salesmen, couldn’t bring myself to commit.

One summer afternoon, I determined to visit the big event at the mall, where all the car lots bring in their vehicles under tents and balloons. It seemed like the easiest way to visit a lot of dealers with the least hassle. I distinctly remember heading out and being overwhelmed at the thought of visiting with more greasy salesmen.

“Lord,” I prayed, “I just want to find a 2000 silver, four-door Alero for $12,000.”

What do you know? At one lot, there was a four-door silver Alero for $12,000. It was a 1999, but I still took it as an answer to prayer. It was  several days before I went out to the dealership to seal the deal. So torn was I, they let me drive it home over night to think about it. The next day, I went back and committed the next 60 months of my life to the car. After I signed the papers, I was so worried I made a mistake I ran outside the building because I thought I was going to be sick.

Later that night, I was driving the newest nicest car that I had ever driven, let alone owned, and started praying because I was afraid I had blown my money on something too expensive. But then, it was like God soothed my troubled heart and assured me the Alero was an appointment from Him.

And boy did we have fun together! I paid off the car in four years and drove it for eight, so it figured out to be a good investment.  Of its 143,000 miles, 110,000 were with me at the wheel. It still looked fine, even til its very last day. The crack in the back bumper was the result of getting stuck one Christmas Day. It suffered 200 dents in a hail storm.

Thanks to tender loving care from a good mechanic, the Alero ran smooth and true. The transmission started acting up when I’d had it only four months and though we both learned  to adapt, it was never cured. Driving home from Maryville one day last spring, the alternator went out. But that turned out to be one of the best things that ever happened to me.

A few months ago, it started to leak antifreeze. That was not unexpected at its age. My trusted mechanic figured it was a gasket, but when he got inside, it turned out to be much more serious.

The Alero had a cracked block. It’s heart was broken.

At first, I denied it and thought we had plenty of time left together. I shopped leisurely for a replacement. Test drove some fancy SUV’s just for fun. Unexepectly, I had to drive to Jefferson City. So I took my ten-year-old Oldsmobile with it’s cracked block, leaky tire, saggy bumper and floppy windshield wiper 500 miles in one day.

Two days later, the power steering belt snapped in half. I had to fill up the antifreeze more often. I narrowed the list down to two or three practical cars and started hunting earnestly for something that would fit my price range. Last weekend, I found two acceptable choices. The mechanic gave his approval.

Earlier this week, I attended the Missouri Baptist Convention, where I visited the Credit Union and got a super-sweet rate on a car loan. Back in town Wednesday, I went to the dealership. The car I’d picked was actually out on loan, but would be in the next day.

I started filling out the paperwork, but had to stop when the nauseous feeling came again. I told them I wanted to look at the car again before I did any more and  just walked out. (I’ve perfected the walk-out-on-car-salesmen stroll the past month.)

Thursday morning, I filled up the antifreeze and drove to my office 15 miles away in Kansas. Then I filled it up again and drove another 25 miles to a staff meeting. The coolant light came on and the temperature nosed up just a bit. After the meeting, I filled that reservoir to overflowing, got in my answer to prayer car and started praying for us to make 40 more miles. Thirty miles from town, the coolant light came on. The temperature stayed steady, but started to creep up just before crossing the Missouri River.

I could nurse it this far. I pulled off the highway to exit. And it died. Never once in the last eight years has it died while I was driving it. I had been trying to get by without putting in gas, it was probably out of fuel. (The gauage had broken years ago.) I got it started and cut through a parking lot to get to gas station, where I pumped in one gallon.

We’re in the final stretch now, Alero. It died one more time. Just six more blocks. I gunned it up the hill, a half-empty jug of antifreeze sloshing around the backseat, the gas gauge rocking wildly from empty to full.

We careened around the corner, screeched to a halt in front of the store and I sauntered inside. I do believe I am ready to sign that paperwork now.

And I left the Alero very near where I had purchased it. It had faithfully fulfilled its assignment. It was time to let it go in peace.

Woo-hoo! What a ride!

A flutter of paper in the yard caught my eye. Likely another piece of trash that blows through a lot these days on the fall winds.

I picked it up and couldn’t believe what I had found! It was a $50 bill!

Right there, it said $50. On the blue paper. With the Monopoly stamp. It wasn’t really a treasure, it was trash after all.

I held it and wondered what if a real $50 bill had blown into the yard. Oh, the visions that danced through my head as I imagined all the things I’d do. They were just dreams, though, because this little blue bill would be worthless at the mall.

Monopoly money is easy to spot as a fake, but we often get deceived by other counterfeits. Satan is masterful at disguising sin as something valuable. We chase busyness, thinking it makes us productive. We strive for riches, thinking it will buy security. We seek fame and attention, hopeful it will make us feel worthwhile.

But when we go to cash in, we make the sad discovery that the world’s promises are only Monopoly money.

Lately, I have been convicted that too often, I just do what feels right when I must do what is right. Feelings are deceptive, but God’s word is true.

That’s truth you can bank on.

“This is what the Lord says: “Stop at the crossroads and look around. Ask for the old, godly way, and walk in it. Travel its path, and you will find rest for your souls.” Jeremiah 6:16

Chicken Soup for the Soul: What I Learned from the Dog releases today nationwide.

Open it up and there on page 188 is my story “Being A True Buddy.”  I got my free copies yesterday and it was quite a thrill.

I shared a copy with my neighbor lady,  a fellow dog lover with a Yorkie named Duke. She called after she had read it. “You didn’t tell me it would make me cry!” she admonished.

Then she asked if that was a true story. Absolutely. That made it even sadder, she said.

It was, indeed, a miserably sad day when Buddy died. I cried like a baby, even though I was 32 years old. It came at the end of a period that had been very difficult personally. I remember feeling as though I had reached rock bottom and would live the rest of my life there.

But, what do you know! God who is rich in mercy shone a ray of sunshine into the dark corners of my heart. Hope was restored and blessings I never expected have been poured into my life.

As I unpacked the Chicken Soup books and received congratulations from friends, I thought how the blessings of this story were born out of such a sad time. I needed that reminder. The last two months, although not as severe as a few years ago, have been draining. At times, I wondered if my heart was destined to dwell in the sadness. I believe, though, that just as before God will use this to bring about something wonderful.

Rock bottom hurts, but to the Master Engineer, it is a solid foundation on which to build His glory.

“Don’t copy the behavior and customs of this world, but let God transform you into a new person by changing the way you think. Then you will learn to know God’s will for you, which is good and pleasing and perfect.” Romans 12:2

This started with a facebook post by my friend Jeanne. The challenge was to answer a number of questions about yourself (That’s what I love about facebook — it’s so interested in me, always asking my opinion!) This questionnaire was unique in that you could only use one word for each answer.

It proved a fun challenge to summarize myself so succinctly.

Then I logged in to my twitter account.  I had previously declared, in a public manner, I had no intention of being on twitter because:

1. I don’t have anything that interesting to share.

2. I don’t want anyone to know what I’m doing every minute of the day.

3. I don’t want to know that many details about anyone else.

But then…. I heard about celebrities who had their twitter identity stolen by others who secured their name first. Just in case someone wanted to co-opt Susan Mires’ identity, I enlisted the assistance of the newspaper’s college intern and entered the twitter universe.

At first, I didn’t tell anyone and faithfully tracked all of four friends I knew on twitter.

Then, this one-word concept captivated me. I’ve started to update my twitter status by condensing my entire day/mood/activities/state of mind/closely held opinions into one single word.

A writer not using words is like an artist not using paint. Or just one color. At a time. It’s an experiment, it will be fun for a while. I will allow myself to use up to three words if it’s a single thought, such as “looking up.”

So, if you’re on twitter, please let me know so I can follow you and if you’d like, follow my single subject tweets.

“God is heaven and you are on earth, so let your words be few.” Ecclesiates 5:2

I won Never The Bride by Cheryl McKay and Rene Gutteridge from my writing friend Melanie Dickerson.

From the title, it was obvious this book would be relevant to my life.

Jessie Stone is 34 and never married, a fate worse than death. She is engagingly realistic, a romantic short on romance. Yes, she can change her own flat tire, but she’d really prefer to have a man in her life to do it for her. Her career is advancing, but her heart isn’t in it. She’s infatuated with a guy who she’s convinced only needs a little time to see they are made for each other.

Then God shows up — in the flesh. He is a little younger and more handsome than she expected, but He acts like God when He tells her  to surrender her dreams and let Him write her love story.

The thrill and frustration Jessie experiences as God demands her attention will be achingly familiar for those who have been single too long, or anyone who has had a dream denied.

Never the Bride is true chick-lit, with present tense writing and fun characters, but it is weightier than most in this genre. The portrayal of God in the flesh is not always believable, but certainly causes you to consider His presence in a different way. Jessie’s story ends with a romance, but unlike most romance stories, the story suggests not everyone’s story will end the same.

This was an enjoyable and thought-provoking read. Pick it up and be prepared to laugh, as well as ask probing questions about God’s sovereign work in your life.

My red purse was getting very heavy.

It couldn’t have been from all the money it was carrying. Stuff just seems to accumlate in a purse, all of it essential to daily operations. I figured it was because I was carrying a wallet inside, when most of my recent purses had a wallet made into the side of the purse.

On tax-free weekend, a day of intense shopping, I decided to ditch my regular purse since it had grown so heavy and would undoubtedly bog down the bargain hunting expedition.

Then one day, I stood at the counter after ordering lunch, the heavy purse plopped up on the counter to give my shoulder a break.

I glanced down and the light glinted off something inside the bag. What could that be? I reached in a pulled out a wrench.

The wrench had been a prize at a training session for small group leaders at church. The associate pastor, to emphasize the tools needed to teach, had given away tools as prizes. Naturally, my prize had been tucked in my purse, but forgotten.

Ditching the wrench, my purse and I are back on friendly terms and I practically skip down the produce aisle it feels so light.

A spiritual pack can grow heavy with burdens you don’t even know you’re carrying. Even some picked up like a tool, you might think it will be useful some day. Worry, regret, fear, a sense of entitlement. It may be time to lighten up.

^“Let us strip off every weight that slows us down, especially the sin that so easily trips us up. And let us run with endurance the race God has set before us.” Hebrews 12:1

It’s haying season on the farm and Dad was busy when I was up to visit this weekend.

He was getting ready to splice a belt that had broken on the hay baler. It’s an interesting contraption. Lots of little metal teeth are placed in a vice and the broken rubber belt is placed over it. Then the vice is closed and the metal teeth clamp together. The belt is once again whole and put back to work.

I wouldn’t be surprised if every belt on Dad’s baler has been spliced at some time or another. The big belts spin around, sweeping up grass to churn it into a one-ton hay bale. Although the metal seam makes it obvious which belts have been repaired, the spliced ones work just as well as the others.

It is hard for me to grasp sometimes how God can truly forgive and heal us.  I know His Word says he washes us clean and makes all things new, but in the grip of pain it’s hard to believe God can really take a broken mess and ever make it feel right again.

Out in the hayfield, Dad has the belt repaired is making another round with the hay baler. What if the spliced belt could remember that time it broke, when it fell off the baler in a useless heap. What if it felt the pain of getting stitched back together. What if every time it spun over the roller, it was reminded of that scar. What if it felt inferior to the other belts because of its past.

It doesn’t make a bit of difference.  It has been restored and is just as good as when it was brand new.

Our sins, our mistakes, simply the experiences of life can cause us to be broken.  Sometimes it’s not even our fault. As long as we’re on this earth, we’ll bear reminders of some of those. But God, who is rich in mercy, still has a plan for us. His love splices broken hearts back together and makes us productive in his kingdom.

“Jesus personally carried our sins in his body on the cross so that we can be dead to sin and live for what is right. By his wounds you are healed.” I Peter 2:24

Wal-Mart used to be the place everyone made fun of. Now, it’s what everyone wants to be.

Target is plastering ads with claims that it has the lowest prices. They renamed their store brand “Up and Up.” How that is supposed to convey “low prices” I don’t know.

Like most Americans I have a love/hate relationship with Wal-Mart. Lately, though, I’ve been shopping there more, yet another result of the economy. Despite all the things there are to despise about it, it is the No. 1 retailer in the world for a reason.

I’m in Middle America and a female, which puts me in Wal-Mart’s key demographic. Here’s why I think they’re successful:

1. Low prices. “No kidding!” you say. But the key is you know Wal-Mart will have the low price, not just specials on an eclectic blend of items. Maybe you shop around a few times, compare notes, but time and time again, Wal-Mart is the winner, so you just accept that they’ll have the bottom dollar every time.

2. You know what Wal-Mart has. Not quite everything, but close enough for most trips. A recent shopping list went like this: bread, chips, bananas, dog dish, wrist brace. I could go to the grocery store, pet store and drug store. Or just go to Wal-Mart and get it all. The shopping experience isn’t that great, but it is consistent and I know exactly what to expect.

3. Surprise shopping. Somewhere between the dairy aisle and pet section, I’ll pass through a department I didn’t plan to visit. Next thing I know, I’ve picked up a cute little purse for only $7. I may have set out with a perfuctory list, but ended up having fun on the way.

4. The best thing Wal-Mart has done for shopping in the last ten years is to clean out those main aisles in front of the grocery and housewares departments. It’s made the whole thing much more enjoyable to be able to navigate the aisles without defensive driving.

5. Lighting. That’s the best I can put my finger on: bright, even lighting. Something about being in Wal-Mart makes you lose track of time. The store has the same feel whether it’s noon, 4 p.m. or 2 a.m. It always feels bright and open for business.

6. Wal-Mart has a sense of energy. That is, I believe, it’s biggest draw. For one thing, there are always people there. You may be feeling down and all alone in the world, but you can find somebody at Wal-Mart. I do like K-Mart, but it feels like shopping in a cemetery. Target is all hushed refinement. But Wal-Mart invites you to come in and make yourself at home, create a little noise and don’t worry about anything.  When I get home from Wal-Mart, it doesn’t just feel like I’ve stocked up on supplies, it feels like I’ve been some place, a place where things happen. I believe that energy feeds on itself and it’s hard to build from scratch. Good luck to other retailers trying to recreate it.

Now, if you’ll allow me to comment on one thing Wal-Mart has messed up. The new packaging on the Great Value brand is hideous. It’s stark and white, a complete opposite from the whole  energy vibe I just described. It looks like the old generic brands, or government commodity foods. One Wal-Mart official told me the motivation was to get brand recognition. That has been achieved, that white packaging shouts across the room that you are cheap. The old Sam’s Choice label actually looked kind of classy; the new one is advertisement for meagerness. In addition, some of the packages don’t have essentail information on them.

I am confident Wal-Mart will survive that little glitch. It does most other things right.