It makes me sad

Sometimes I read posts from people I know and they make me want to cry. Sometimes it is because it is something sad or something that touches my heart. Sometimes it makes me want to cry because of other reasons I can't get into right now, but what is written hurts my heart because I know that person knows better than what is written. It is difficult to explain without getting into too much detail because I wouldn't hurt anyone for any reason intentionally. I guess we all have the right to think what we want to think and maybe the person really does think that way. I would hope not though. Because it really, really does matter. It does.

Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make your paths straight. – Proverbs 3:5-6

I want to do just that--trust Him in everything. I am trying to pray every day and get closer. I know we have a battle coming. I want to be ready. I would love to be where I was before Rick got sick. I was closer then than I have ever been in my life. Then life happened to us. Don't get me wrong, I don't blame God for taking Rick. I don't, I just let his illness then death consume me I think and I am still trying to dig out. I wanted a different outcome. God had other plans for him and ultimately us.

When this country was a country that feared God and kept the commandments and prayer was in school and children were disciplined in school there was so much less crime and the world was a little better place. And don't try to tell me differently. I know I grew up in a time when these things happened. You could pray in school and say God and leave school with a teacher to go to a revival day service and come back to school with that teacher. No problem. Now days that would get so many people in trouble! I left school with Gladys and Bob or Lelan came to school to get kids that wanted to go (with parent notes) and the parents gladly wrote them and might even be at the service too and would be at the night service.........and if you got in trouble at school it wasn't time out or write sentences necessarily.....it could have meant a paddle to the backside and your parents knew about it before you got home......and you feared getting home because that paddle would get your butt again......and parents didn't fear social services coming to their house for punishing their child. I thank God I was raised where I was and when I was. I tried to raise mine the same way.

That is enough of my soap box for tonight.

I love all y'all.
To be continued......................