Memorial Day was spent home alone as hubby is a restaurant manger and works holidays. I did make BBQ Ribs, corn on the cob and bakers for dinner. It's becoming more infrequent that we can all as a family go out and do something together. We did manage a trip to the Dairy Queen one warm night this week. We ate our ice cream in the car in the parking lot and Number One Son along with Hubby played a guessing game with the songs on the radio. Age of Acquarius was playing and my son guessed Three Dog Night. Hubby told him they do have a number in their name. Lulu was singing To Sir, With Love so I noded about her and the lyrics the next day.

In the mail Number Two Son received a note from Mr. R his English teacher and a certificate for Best Student and will be on his "Wall of Fame" forever. Only two students a year get an award from him, the other is for Perfect Student. He wanted to know what I considered better, being best or perfect. I tried to explain that as a teacher I can have a student who gets every word spelled right, good grammer and punctuation, and I would call that a person Perfect Student, but the Best Student is the one who uses his/her imagination in writing and tries to apply what s/he has been taught about, the structure and use of words creatively. His art work is (brag... brag:) in a showing starting June 28 - July 31 at a well know Park Gallery. No opening reception, but a showing only.

Elsie a neighbor came by today and asked for the Sunday paper. Another neighbor's son Brandon was featured in it. He's a near drowning victim. They were celebrating his 18th birthday and High School Graduation. The doctors say he won't make it to his 18th birthday so it was an early celebration. When he was 4 he nearly drowned in a Jacuzzi. He played all the time with Number One Son till then and suddenly his life changed forever. The High School Diploma was an honarary one. So sad it must be for his mother to see my son go to the prom, date, play basketball ,etc. We still talk when I go by on my walks.

Put on my MIA/POW braclet Monday. Took it over to Steve next door, he restores cars for a living. The black lettering was fading so he sprayed it with some black primer and gave it a quick polish for me. He's got a goofy kind of philosophy on life, (too many paint fumes my hubby jokes with him) but he's a good guy. It's annoying, catches on things when I clean, but it reminds me of who Sgt. Kenneth Lancaster was and what he did. I will wear it until Veteran's Day. I can still see Cindy Cryderman standing in the hall at Rudyard High School crying and screaming. Her brother who had been in Vietnam for only a few days when his bunker was shelled and he was killed instantly while he slept. Just like that he was there last week joking and teasing us, gave my sister her first hickey and then he was gone.... In my Dream Log for May 28th I forgot to mention that on the doors on base housing I saw Christmas Wreaths. These were hung on the doors of servicemen who were MIA and the wreaths stayed there, brown and dead and falling apart, till the fathers, brothers,or husbands remains were found. I remembered these too. Fathers of friends Missing In Action, there were at least six wreaths on the street where I lived on base in Michigan.

No Matter What

Now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; and the greatest of these is love.
- 1 Corinthians 13:13(NRSV)

Because He First Loved Me.......one of the first songs I can recall learning in Sunday School, today suddenly took on a new meaning. I was loved by God first, before any human could rise up and hurt me, he loved me first, no barriers, no boundaries, simply love.

Devotion