Better or worse?

Friends call and come to read scripture and pray with me.  Margo asked:  "Is it better or worse to know you have an aneurysm?"  I was still getting used to the reality and had no answer.  I will tell you this: Living moment by moment is no longer just an option.  Either I'm going to juice each moment to the max or I'm some kind of stupid.  Right now, it looks as if I will have another three months before my innards are zapped again to find out if  "The Thing" has grown. The heart doctor says my heart is strong enough to handle a surgery. ...if I want to.

We used to sing an old hymn (...but then we used to sing a whole LOT of "old hymns") named: "Moment by Moment".  

Moment by moment I'm kept in His love.
Moment by moment I've life from above.
Looking to Jesus 'til Glory doth shine.
Moment by moment,
Oh, Lord, I am Thine.

People brought their dogs and wore their flip flops to the Singalong last Friday night.  I invited people I knew and more that I had never met into my world of old tunes that date back a hundred years. ...from Dixieland, to Gospel, to standards known to most people. While they chatted and dined, folk who had never met each other listened to melodies that brought back memories.  From my old tattered and stained Singalong books they called out their favorites. I handed the mic to Dave who sings "Old Man River" and "Sixteen Tons" like no other bass I've ever heard.  One woman asked for "How Great Thou Art".  Whoopee! That led to my staying on the mic and singing  "This World is not my Home" and "I'll Fly Away", which morphed into telling the folk about the "thingie"  in my aorta.  This crowd knows about "thingties", but some don't know where they are going when that thingie kills them. ...so I told them where I am going.

This week one of my favorite neighbors asked Jesus into his heart. ...and ya' know,  nothin' else in this world really matters except knowing where we are going when this life is over.

Show over,  my faithful crew packed up my stuff, put me in their car, brought me home and practically tucked me into my bed. ...exhausted, but oh, so happy.

Call, text or Email me and

Tell me the Story of Jesus
Write on my heart every word.
Tell me the story most precious;
Sweetest that ever was heard.

Love,  Jo