Social Media

Last night, my husband and I spent several hours watching a CNN series on the Sixties. As we watched through historical events from Kennedy's election, to Vietnam, to Freedom Summer, I saw footage of political figures that I had never seen before. I found it ironic, that in this age of social media, I am just now finding out about things from 50 years ago. 

It made me wonder how past presidents and other political figures would have fared had camera phones, Facebook, Twitter, and Vine been available back then. What if they had been caught in that split second before they could put hands over hearts for the pledge? Had photoshopped pictures made that totally distorted situations? What if misinformation could have been spread like wildfire at the click of a mouse? Presidents who have been considered some of the greatest in history have made some pretty big mistakes. ("Bay of Pigs", anyone?) Would their legacies have been the same had the public known about their mistakes instantly? 

Social media can be a wonderful thing. I love connecting with friends and family. I love discussing issues near to my heart in groups. I loved getting to see pictures of my dear friend's newborn granddaughter who was born on the 4th of July. But, I have to wonder if social media is playing a part in creating and maintaining divisions. Divisions between political parties. Divisions between religious denominations. Divisions between races. Yes, racial divides still exist, even today, sadly enough. 

Just for today, think about how social media can be used for good or for ill. Resolve to check out things that might be in doubt. Snopes.com is a good way to see if something is true or false. 

Check things out before passing them on. 

 

  

 

Comfort Zones

There is a Casting Crowns song "Voice of Truth" that spoke loudly to me the very first time that I heard it, and continues to speak to me today. The sermon at Hermanville UMC today was on leaving our comfort zones and going out into the world to share the Good News of Jesus. 

 Historically, I have been very much a "Comfort Zone" person. I broke out of that comfort zone to go back to school and get my counseling degree. But, afterwards, I found it easy to slip back into another comfort zone. While I was waiting to regain my singing voice, I decided to leave my comfort zone again and explore art. I left the comfort zone of my longtime church to follow a call to go where I was really needed. Now, I have left the comfort zone of the politics of my parents to follow my own paths. Each time that I have left a comfort zone, I have found an opportunity to minister to others. Not by beating them over the head with the Bible and quoting endless scriptures, but by loving them, encouraging them, and serving them. I don't always succeed in this, but, I am always trying. Most people in this part of the country know the Bible, but don't really experience the love of Christ.

Consider stepping out of your comfort zone for a day.What might happen?
 

http://youtu.be/KwsvqVmFV6Y

Oh what I would do to have
The kind of faith it takes
To climb out of this boat I'm in
Onto the crashing waves

To step out of my comfort zone
Into the realm of the unknown where Jesus is
And He's holding out His hand

But the waves are calling out my name
And they laugh at me
Reminding me of all the times
I've tried before and failed
The waves they keep on telling me
Time and time again. "Boy, you'll never win!"
"You'll never win!"

[Chorus]
But the voice of truth tells me a different story
The voice of truth says, "Do not be afraid!"
The voice of truth says, "This is for My glory"
Out of all the voices calling out to me
I will choose to listen and believe the voice of truth

Oh what I would do to have
The kind of strength it takes to stand before a giant
With just a sling and a stone
Surrounded by the sound of a thousand warriors
Shaking in their armor
Wishing they'd have had the strength to stand

But the giant's calling out my name
And he laughs at me
Reminding me of all the times
I've tried before and failed
The giant keeps on telling me
Time and time again. "Boy you'll never win!"
"You'll never win!"

Chorus

But the stone was just the right size
To put the giant on the ground
And the waves they don't seem so high
From on top of them lookin' down
I will soar with the wings of eagles
When I stop and listen to the sound of Jesus
Singing over me

Chorus

I will choose to listen and believe the voice of truth

Passionate

I spent part of last night on Facebook, trying to fix my page so that everyone did not have to see every like, comment, and page that I follow. Facebook used to have an option to disable comments and likes, but I can't find that now. Go figure.

I find that as I grow older, I have become so much more passionate about life and the world around me. Social media has introduced me to people, places, and causes I would never have known about otherwise. This is a "mixed" blessing. I spent much of my early life being afraid to express myself. One of the wonderful things about middle age is that this fear is largely gone. :)

I have become quite passionate about politics. I am passionate about equal rights for ALL of God's children, no matter where they may be found. I am passionate about Fair Trade and trying to buy as many things as possible from local artisans or from places where I know people are paid a fair wage for their labors. I am passionate about art and music. I am passionate about shelter for the homeless, medical care for the poor, and safe daycare. I am passionate about my family and friends. I am passionate about mental health, taking care of self, and setting boundaries. I am passionate about following my bliss. And most of all, I am passionate about my little church in Hermanville and trying to do what Jesus would have me do. 

Go out today and be passionate about something. You will be glad you did.   

What I Learned Today

Today, in an effort to give our wonderful pastor a bit of time off, I offered to conduct the service and bring the message today. I learned a lot. Needless to say, I appreciate Charles even more after this experience. 

Historically, Memorial Day is a very "low" Sunday for our church. People are out of town and visiting family. To my great surprise, we had 10 people in the service today. One couple even came back from an event early to support me in this endeavor. I was truly blown away by this. 

I never realized what a juggling act it is to manage a speech, a bulletin, a hymnal, and, in my case, an extra book that I wanted to show to the congregation. I did a fair amount of praying that I would not drop anything, seeing as I dropped my hymnal, bulletin, and solo lyrics just last Sunday. 

I never realized how long Charles has to stand at one time. This is something I totally underestimated. My legs do not cooperate with standing for long periods, so I had to abbreviate some things so that I could get to my chair and sit during the special music. 

Part of my neuromuscular disease can also affect my speech when I begin to tire. Not sure I can really do anything about this one. 

I am getting off of steroids, so my vision is changing rapidly, and not for the better. I did not realize how different it was going to be looking at my notes and bulletin from a standing position. Especially if I looked up and looked back down! Double spacing might help this. Or not. 

Even with all this, I did enjoy the experience. Don't get me wrong, I would NOT want the job full time. But, it did reassure me that I can get through a speech and not have the congregation/audience fall asleep on me. I was not even really nervous. I felt the prayers, support, and love, not just from those present, but from those who were praying for me from other places. 

It is nice to know that I can talk when the need arises. But, I would much rather let Charles do the talking. 

And I'll just sing. 

Boundaries

Ironically, I am to give my first talk in church as lay leader on May 25th. My topic? Boundaries. 

I first read "Boundaries" by Henry Cloud and John Townsend many years ago, back in the 90's. It really did change my life for the better.  Sometimes I am more effective at setting boundaries than at other times. Having multiple "invisible" illnesses, my body often sets my boundaries for me. 

I have not been as efficient as I need to be in setting boundaries over the past few months and my body and spirit are letting me know it. I have been using too much of my precious energy for too little reward. Those few more minutes, or one more thing can make the difference between being able to run one more important errand like picking up medication, or going to the bank, before I go home and crash for several hours or not getting these things done. 

I am taking some time away from several commitments for a short time. I need time to recharge the batteries of both my body and my spirit.

My First Tornado.

This week has been quite eventful, to say the least. On Monday, I experienced my first tornado. I found out a number of things about tornadoes that I did not know. 

For one, I found out that by the time you get that call telling you that you are under a tornado WARNING, it is already on top of you. There is very little time to get anywhere safe. 

Tornadoes really DO sound like freight trains. 

We don't have anyplace in our house that can be closed off that does not have an outside wall. We don't have a tub in our one bathroom, but a shower with glass doors located by a large window. Ummm...I don't think so! We do need to figure something out for the future, but I don't know what.

I also found out that rain can go completely sideways. As we looked out our windows, the rain was parallel to the ground. The (mercifully small) hail hitting our metal roof made it even more interesting. And, when I heard the loud "Whump!", sure enough, our big oak in the corner of the yard had shed a limb large enough to block our street and take power lines with it. 

After the storm was over, as neighbors were gathering outside to survey the damage, I saw something I had never seen. 5-6 inch in diameter limbs were stuck in the ground like spears. When my husband pulled this one up, it had been buried 6 inches deep. 

Overall, we were extremely fortunate. One neighbor had part of his house, his carport, and a beautiful antique car smashed. A family in a nearby neighborhood had a tree fall on the living room that they would have been sitting in had they been home at the time. But, we had no injuries or deaths with this storm. 

My heart goes out to Tupelo and Louisville. They suffered casualties and will have a much harder time cleaning up and getting back to normal. 

Vicksburg essentially dodged yet another bullet, and for that, I am thankful. 

A Hymnal of My Own

This month I celebrated my first anniversary as a member of Hermanville United Methodist Church. I had been attending before that, but last April was when I decided to make to transition from my former church to HUMC. 

Last Sunday, our pianist, Daphne Bruce and I were presented with our very own personalized hymnals. I was surprised and (momentarily) speechless. Our pastor, Charles, told the story of his first Sunday at HUMC. He was holding off beginning the service. One of the members told him he might as well go ahead and start. Charles asked about a pianist or a music leader and was told "We don't sing." 

Well, the members of HUMC now sing! Hymns, the Doxology, the Gloria Patri, and special music are now part of every service. I feel so blessed to be a part of the two person "music department." 

Many years ago, my paternal grandmother gave me my first Bible. I was a white leather King James Version. I opened it and the first scripture I saw was this one. It is still one of my favorites. 

Psalm 100

King James Version (KJV)

100 Make a joyful noise unto the Lord, all ye lands.

² Serve the Lord with gladness: come before his presence with singing.
³ Know ye that the Lord he is God: it is he that hath made us, and not we ourselves; we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture.
⁴ Enter into his gates with thanksgiving, and into his courts with praise: be thankful unto him, and bless his name.
⁵ For the Lord is good; his mercy is everlasting; and his truth endureth to all generations.

 

The Book!

After many years in the making, my husband's book about the old cemeteries of Claiborne County is out and available. 

This book was many years in the making. Bill personally hiked to and through these cemeteries himself, with the exception of one that was forbidden to him. He did his best to uncover every stone and, where possible, leave the cemetery in better shape than when he found it. 

Not only did Bill track down and document these cemeteries, he cross referenced names with marriage and death records in order to link families together. The result is a very nice book that should be a wonderful resource for anyone interested in the history of the Claiborne County or Genealogical research. 

The book can be purchased through amazon.com, dorrancebooks.com, and I usually keep a couple of signed copies at The Cricket Box. Cost is $31.00 for a signed copy at the Cricket Box and you would be supporting a local business. You can also message me on Facebook if you are interested in a copy.

The cover artwork is my own rendition of Grand Gulf Cemetery. I painted it for Bill several years ago and was honored that he used it for his cover. I also took the photograph of him that appears on the back with my iPhone 5 camera at Greenlawn Gardens. It only seemed proper to have his photo taken in a graveyard. 

Getting a book published is not an easy task. The back and forth between the writer and the editors can get tedious at times. But, after many months, Bill's dream is finally a reality.

I could not be prouder. 



 
 

Car Shopping

I am not a fan of car shopping. However, our 2006 Town and Country mini-van is making way too many trips to the shop these days. The things that are going wrong are just not cost effective to fix in an 8 year old vehicle.

My husband insists on a vehicle with an "American" label (even if half the parts are made in other countries). He also insists on going out of town to look at every possible choice. I am having trouble getting him to realize, with the transparency of the internet, there is no need to do this.

I have already done some research. I know what I want, where I want to get it, and who I want to buy it from.

Alas, I am certain that it is not going to be that simple.

I Can't See Clearly Now

Don't worry, I can still see to drive, cook, read on my iPad, etc.

After 12 years of taking varying doses of steroids, my new neuromuscular doc is wanting to wean me off of them. They were masking some problems that need attention and I may be able to finally lose some more weight. This is good.

The bad is increased pain from a number of injuries, arthritis, etc. I can deal with those.

Where I am feeling the change the most is in my art endeavors. I have had trouble seeing a pencil line for some time, so I have avoided trying to sketch what I want to paint. As the steroids decrease, my vision worsens, and my ability to see that pencil line is almost impossible. My hands are stiffer and shake a bit more.

Once again, I am having to modify the way I "do art." I am trying different tools and methods to see what I can do with what I have now.

I am not sure what this will mean for the marketability of my art or my ability to continue teaching the classes I love at the Senior Center.

I guess I will be stepping outside my comfort zone and finding out!

Stay tuned!

Figure Skating

The first time I remember really watching figure skating was when Peggy Fleming won the gold medal at the 1968 Olympics. She was so graceful and elegant. And I was hooked on figure skating for life.

Over time, figure skating has changed a lot. It seems like there are times that all the emphasis is on the jumps and none on the artistry and beauty that make the sport worth watching.

Adelina Sotnikova of Russia, last night's winner, had the jumps. But, in my humble opinion, had none of the other qualities that I love about figure skating. There were no deep, lovely edges. No mood was set by her choreography (or lack thereof). Her spins were not particularly distinctive. It was like she just did jump after jump, with nothing meaningful in between.

Contrasting Adelina's skating with the gorgeous performances given by Yuna Kim, Carolina Kostner, and Gracie Gold, I have a wonder about the judging, which is already under fire. I guess bloc judging is still alive and well, even in 2014.

For the most part, it was a great evening of figure skating. Gracie, Ashley, and Polina showed the world that ladies figure skating in the US is a force to be reckoned with in the future.

Bring on 2018!

Weepy

My healthcare team says I am doing well. I am walking part of the time with a quad cane. I have been out to get the toenails done and the hair "did." The weather is warming up. I go to outpatient physical therapy next week to work on getting back to my version of "normal."

So, why am I crying?? I am not normally a person who weeps much. But, I find myself crying at commercials, at the Olympics, and even at these clips I find on Facebook. 

This morning I saw a clip on Scott Hamilton on Facebook, and being quite a fan of his, I watched all 10 minutes of it. I sobbed. Literally sobbed. 

I hope it is just the events of the past few weeks getting to me. The rehab experience was uncomfortable at the best of times and absolutely frightening at the worst. I have never been this incapacitated for this long. I hate having to constantly ask for help from my husband to do things I just can't do yet. I really hate not being able to drive! 

This week, I get back into my routine of teaching watercolor classes. Combined with the PT, I hope to be busy enough not to let my mind dwell on things past. 

I am telling myself that all this is probably normal under the circumstances. But, I hope it does not last much longer. 

I am running low on Kleenex.

Recovery

Needless to say, my recovery is not going as quickly as *I* think it should. After a brief attempt at walking on a quad cane and pushing myself a bit too far in physical therapy, I pulled a muscle and set myself back a few days. So, I am back on my tricked out walker with the wheels, tennis balls, and Batman tag.

I guess anyone who has surgery of this type hears all about the folks who recovered unbelievably quickly. The ones who came straight home from the hospital and were using a cane the first week. The ones who were doing almost everything they had been doing before surgery by 4 weeks.

Despite my optimism and determination, I was not this person. Not this time, anyway.

The day I was released from the hospital after my appendectomy 20 years ago (this was when they did the big incision), I stopped at Cedar Hill Cemetery to sing for a friend's graveside service. I back in school (as a student) the next Monday. I had little trouble with any of my other surgeries. Nothing prepared me for this one.

My rehab and home health caregivers think I am doing well, all things considered. But, I am not the world's most patient person. I want to be back teaching watercolor, leading the singing at my church, and doing everything I can for myself. I am not good at asking for help. But, it has been an eye-opener to see how many people really care about me and have been willing to help during this time. I am truly humbled.

I already have less pain than before the surgery. I know that I am going to be better than ever before too long. I just have to realize that I am healing at my own pace. And I have to be content with that.

Rehab

I went into my hip replacement surgery optimistically thinking that I would go straight home from the hospital. 

Wrong. 

Due to my congenital myopathy, the surgery left me much weaker than the average person. I had to find someplace to rehab in less than 12 hours. When my two choices in Vicksburg were unable to take me, I ended up at Trinity Mission Nursing and Rehab in Clinton. It was an eye-opening experience to say the least!


For the first few days, I was unable to get up without assistance. Every time I had to go to the bathroom, I had to call someone. Talk about a humbling experience! I would be sitting on the edge of my bed for up to an hour and a half watching CNAs go by. For some, if I was not their patient, they were not going to give me the time of day. Often, my call light was ignored completely. I was thankful that I was alert, had a cellphone, and could yell if necessary! But, most of my fellow inmates were not so fortunate. Scary.   

Needless to say, I was eager to get to PT and get stronger in a hurry. I was not sure how the system worked there, but I wanted to let the therapists know that I was ready to get going. I called my friend Rachel to bring me supplies and I made a sign announcing that I was ready for therapy! 

Tracy and Helen arranged for me to begin therapy every morning at the unholy hour of 6:15. Since I was not sleeping anyway, I figured I might as well use my morning wisely. These two got me back on my feet. Literally!

I also now have an appreciation for parents who have to watch the same TV channel day and night. My roommate had TVLand going 24/7 at full blast the first couple of nights I was at Trinity. There is NOTHING more grating that the voice of Fran Drescher (The Nanny)  at 3 AM!!! I finally began getting someone to turn it off after sweet Miss Bonnie fell asleep. 

Dining was another interesting experience. The dining room manager ruled with an iron hand. We short timers were allowed to have a guest for one meal a day. But, that person had to be signed up well in advance. One of the best things about the meal was the homemade soup. But, if one was not signed up, it was  "No soup for YOU!" 

Fortunately, along the way, I met and cultivated caring people to help make my stay easier. The wound care nurses were wonderful. James, Justin, and George helped me to the bathroom when no one else would, even though it was not technically their job. Believe me, when you are hurting and desperate, you don't care WHO is helping you! And precious Krystal was my favorite CNA. She is trying to go back to school, get her nursing degree, and break a generations old cycle of family poverty. I am rooting for her. 

One of the things that was hardest about the whole experience was the lack of silence. The man across the hall had his TV on 24/7 and it was so loud I could hear the dialogue. Staff members would talk and laugh loudly outside the door no matter what the hour. And, of course, there was always the sound of food, laundry, and medicine carts going up and down the hall. I had earplugs and soothing music, but nothing could drown out the other sounds. I craved silence as if it were a drug. 

Thanks to my friends and family, Bill, my minister, Charles, Rachel (who washed my hair for me), Tammy (who brought me a large Diet Coke from Sonic on a snowy day), to Debbie and Judy bearing gifts of hugs and lemon squares and Robyn, the Little Debbie Fairy, who ensured I would have something for midnight snacks, I made it. 

I am sure I ended up in the best place available at the time. But, I hope I don't have to do it again any time in the near future. 

 

Death Comes in Threes

I remember, as a child, older relatives saying "Death comes in threes." I did not think too much of it then, but, now that I am an adult (more or less!), it increasingly seems that this is true.

Over the past month, three precious people have passed away before they had a chance to get old. One of them was a wife and mother who enjoyed life and the people around her. One was a sweet gentleman who was in pain for many years, but even when he was home bound, reached out to others by way of encouraging cards. The last was a woman who, when I knew her, lived life at a frantic pace. She wanted to make a lot of money and retire early. I was in no position to say this to her, but I always wished that she would stop and smell the roses a little. Just in case. I am not sure exactly how old she was when she passed away recently, but I know that she was several years younger than me. Her death is especially sad to me, because I am not sure she ever really LIVED life.

Every day, I see friends and acquaintances living these frantically busy lives. They simply don't seem to know how to slow down and enjoy life. They use busyness like some people use drugs and alcohol. They stay busy to avoid or numb what is going on or has gone on in their lives.

My prayer is that my friends don't die before they have lived.

Really lived.

Pennie

I met first met Pennie in 1998 when I began an internship at Warren-Yazoo Mental Health. I had never had a real "job" like this. I had worked in a preschool, a lollipop shop, waitressed,  given voice lessons, relief dispatched for a police department and answered the Mississippi College switchboard. But none of this prepared me for the Mental Health!

I came to this job exhausted and fragile from commuting to Monroe daily for 3 years, dealing with multiple untimely deaths of friends to suicide and AIDS (and the lack of compassion for these deaths by other "friends", which was almost as wounding), and the beginnings of some serious health issues. Then, I met Pennie. And she said something to me that she may not even remember and people who know me now may find hard to believe. "You are the most negative person I have ever met!"

Those words stopped me in my tracks. I knew I had to change my outlook. And, I did.

Pennie was the resident "nut." Leave the office for lunch and there was no telling what prank she might have pulled while I was out. A stuffed squirrel was a particular favorite and there was no telling where it might be and what it might be doing at any given time. He might be holding a sign containing a funny poem or threatening to jump from the top of my bookcase. But, when I was overwhelmed, I could go in her office, shut the door, and she would help me gain perspective over the situation. Pennie was and is an amazing counselor.

During our time at the Mental Health, Pennie also had her challenges. Betrayal, divorce, and a very difficult pregnancy got her down for a while. But, Pennie always had a funny quip and an unquenchable spirit despite everything.

We both eventually left the Mental Health. Me, to deal with health issues and Pennie to pursue new opportunities in Texas. But, we never lost touch.

Now, Pennie is facing a diagnosis of Multiple Sclerosis. She should know for sure in a few days. I am praying without ceasing that she will be able to get a clear diagnosis and successful, stabilizing treatment. She has a husband and a challenging, funny almost 12 year old to finishing raising.

And I need my "Lucky Pennie."

 

Who are you?

Don't worry. This is not one of those year in review things. I promise.

A few weeks ago, there was a thing going around on Facebook where people were assigned numbers and asked to tell x number of things about themselves. I read a number of these and was surprised at the number of them that made me sad. 

Several people focused solely on their achievements. Now, there is nothing actually wrong with this. We all need to toot our own horns occasionally. But, I found it sad when that was almost ALL of what a person put on his or her lists. Jobs can be lost. Illness can take away one's ability to work steadily. Even great achievements are eventually forgotten. I would encourage folks to look at WHO they are and not just WHAT they do. Are they loyal? Thoughtful? Brave? Food for thought. And harder to do than one might think. 

Who are you?






 

When Christmas is "Not so Merry."

Every Christmas I try to take some time out to think of, pray for, or otherwise support my friends who are not feeling so merry this holiday season.

Christmas can be a magical, happy time. But, just as often, it seems, Christmas can be a time of loneliness, despair, and sadness. There are often increased attempts (both successful and unsuccessful) at suicide near Christmas. As a former counselor in public mental health, I can vouch for this.

Christmas might not have been a easy time for some people growing up. Alcoholics tend to use more alcohol. Drug addicts more drugs. Substance abuse can make Christmas a more of a war zone than a celebration.

Depression also takes hold during the Christmas season. Single parents struggle because they can't give their children all they want them to have during this season. The newly bereaved or divorced can feel particularly isolated. People who lost loved ones near Christmas have feelings forever tinged with sadness.

Old family rivalries and disagreements can rear their heads during the emotional settings of Christmas time. Expectations can be too high. Uncle Joe and Aunt Patty aren't suddenly going to be able to stay in the same room together, just because it's Christmas.

Christmas may not be YOUR time of year, and that is OK. You are not alone. And you are not "strange." Sometimes you just do what it takes to survive and move on. There is no shame in that survival.

But none of this will stop me from praying for just a glimmer of joy, somewhere, in everyone's Christmas.

Christmas Friends

Most people have different types of friends. There are the "acquaintance" friends that we see in the grocery store and say hello to. There are the "fair weather" friends who disappear when things are not going well, but miraculously back when life is better. I even have a couple of "bad news" friends. The only time I hear directly from them is when something drastic is happening. I am blessed to have many, many "thick or thin" friends who are there for me no matter what.

Then, in my family's case, there were the "Christmas friends." When my mother did not wake up on Christmas morning and was taken by ambulance to Vicksburg Hospital, these Christmas friends came out in force. There were so many people there that we had to spill out of the tiny ICU waiting room and into the other hospital waiting areas. Don and Juanita Houston, David and Trudy Gunter, Doug and Marilyn Boone, Janis and Bob LaGrone, and others took time away from their families to sit with us. I remember the Gunters taking me home hours after midnight. Spending Christmas in an ICU waiting room is a pretty major gift of love. One that was never taken lightly, and one that will never be forgotten.

Prayer Requests

When it comes to things like fairly major surgery, I am not bashful when it comes to asking for prayers. My faith in the power of prayer is unshakable. I know "dead" people who are still alive against all odds. I am a realist, but the power of prayer is clear in every aspect of my life.

Please feel free to put me on any prayer lists or chains if you wish to. I am not shy about asking for this vital link to the power of the Great Physician. 

My asthma and congenital myopathy will make a brief stay in Intensive Care necessary. This actually makes me feel better, knowing that I will be more closely monitored for any spikes in blood pressure or respiratory distress. 

I would not be totally truthful if I said I had absolutely no worries about this upcoming hip replacement. But, I receive peace from the prayers of supportive friends and family who have been praying for calm and lack of fear for me. 

Prayers for the patience of my husband will also be appreciated. This kind of thing can be pretty exhausting for the caregiver as well. And I am the most patient of patients! 

And, of course, I will be praying on my own behalf and for those who will be taking care of me. 

Prayers. Keep 'em coming!