Female in Motion

1 Thessalonians 5:22 (KJV) Abstain from all appearance of evil.   One summer when I was around eight years old, my parents took our family on a two-week vacation to Yellowstone National Park. Once we entered the park, my dad told us that we needed to keep close to him and always stay on the trail, because there were wild animals like bear and moose living in the woods. While on a hike with my father and older sisters, I started to lag behind because I was little and had much shorter legs. A fallen tree across the trail was no problem for the others, but I had a tough time getting over it. I could see my dad and sisters getting farther and farther away, but I still couldn't manage to get over the log. "Help, Daddy!" I screamed. "A moose is gonna get me!" I have no idea why I was more afraid of a moose than a bear, but I needed my daddy's assistance. He made his way back, lifted me easily over the log, and dried my little-girl tears. "Don'...

Go to the bathroom. Wash my hands. Fix breakfast. Wash my hands. Feed the cats. Wash my hands. Shake hands at church. Wash my hands. It's all I do. Every day. It seems like I just can't get my hands, or my house, clean enough. Clorox and Lysol are my weapons of war. I keep Purel and disinfectant wipes in my purse and backpack and every room in the house.  Since beginning chemotherapy in October, I've been advised to stay healthy and keep away from folks who are sick. I've always been a bit of a germaphobe. Never would I dream of using the pen the clerk hands you at the store or restaurant to sign a receipt. While I'm doing everything I can to keep from catching a nasty bug, I know that I can never be clean enough to enter Heaven on my own merits. 1 John 1:7 (KJV) But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship one with another, and the blood of Jesus Christ his Son cleanseth us from all sin.  The blood Jesus shed on the cr...

I'm packing some items in a backpack to take with me when I have chemotherapy treatments at Cancer Treatment Centers of America in Zion, IL. So far, I have a small lap blanket, a fleece hoodie that zips all the way down front, photos of my favorite people, peppermints, hand sanitizer, my MP3 player and my collection of short stories by John Steinbeck. Am I missing anything? If you think of something vital I have forgotten, please let me know. Because of a scheduling conflict, I won't be able to start chemo for two more weeks (Oct. 10). This has left me feeling a little frustrated and blue. Not that I am so excited to have chemo, but that I just want to get the process moving forward. I don't want to be a cancer patient the rest of my life. After putting this chapter in the past, I want to move forward with my writing and our business. Here is my post-cancer "to do" list: 1. Take a vacation with The Hubster, my mom and the kids. 2. Send query letters to a ...