We're comin', Lord.

Son Jeff and wife Carla are still sleeping upstairs. They will be heading to their home in Granite Bay (Sacramento) within the hour.  I will allow myself to go into a slump for maybe thirty minutes or so.  They came Friday night; Dee and Brent came for dinner. We were family, gaining perspective and energy from one another.  Yesterday was a day of sprinkler repairs and confronting a computer mess while son-in-law Brent's deep reservoir of patience with his mother-in-law was taxed to the max.   ... then off to Tehachapi we five went.  My four children deposited me at the Apple Shed then went on to see a movie. They came back to the Shed around 6 for dinner, I went on playing this and that for a steady stream of diners,   taking breaks to return to the family table and laugh with my beloveds.   Madi Jane, youngest grandgirl came for dinner, downloaded what's going on in her life then shot out the door to a friend's birthday party.  Gosh, I love my family! I mostly just listen as the parents exchange reports about their college kids while feeling downright relieved that that era of my life has been over for a long time. One grandgirl is in Philadelphia studying medicine, another is in Sacramento studying Philosophy, another is in a Bakersfield college studying Physical Therapy before leaving in a year for a university somewhere in California. Luke, oldest grandson is moving to Coeur d'Alene, Idaho this week for work and school.  Lance works locally for a wind farm enterprise. Madi, in her third year of high school is learning how to waitress and cook Greek style at a local restaurant.  O.K., that's the grandmother news. ...now for another kind of grandmother news:

There are three great-grandmother widows in their 90's that I have loved and communicated with since our first post-seminary pastorate with Ray Stedman in Palo Alto. One is Ray's wife, Elaine. Another, Betty, the wife of one of the original founders of the church, and another, Harriet,  wife of a Board member.  Two receive my blog. The other wants nothing to do with a computer so I send her my blog once a month.  One of the widows claims that she blabbers about everything and everyone then can't remember what she told to whom.  Another never did blabber about anything personal and still doesn't. The third, twice widowed,  at 92 is probably still blabbering the Good News to neighborhood kids.

This week Michele and I fly to Texas to be part of FirstPlace4Health Retreat at Round Top  She will be leading worship; I will be goofing off.  Try to somehow make it through your days without my blog until the weekend of the 24th of October. 

The CD's of the Singalong are ready.  If you want one, send me your address. The recording has some blips, but you will catch the upbeatness of it all, with Gayel on fiddle, fabulous Frank on acoustic geetar,  Maria on the big ol' bass  and Michele singing.  What a great band!  I sing and lead from the piano. My 85-year-old voice isn't what it used to be, but then nothing else is what it used to be either.

Meanwhile, here's an old hymn that will make your day: WHEN THE ROLL IS CALLED UP YONDER

When the trumpet of the Lord shall sound and time shall be no more
And the morning breaks eternal bright and fair
When the saints of earth will gather over on the other shore
And the roll is called up yonder, I'll be there.

WHEN THE ROLL IS CALLED UP YONDER
WHEN THE ROLL IS CALLED UP YONDER
WHEN THE ROLL IS CALLED UP YONDER
WHEN THE ROLL IS CALLED UP YONDER I'LL BE THERE!

On that bright and cloudless morning when the dead in Christ shall rise
And the glory of His resurrection share;
When His chosen ones shall gather to their home beyond the skies
And the roll is called up yonder I'll be there!
CHORUS

Yippee!!! 

Love,  Jo