A prayer of Thanksgiving...

Lord, teach me to be grateful.
Open my eyes so that I may see you everywhere.
Let all of your creation call me to amazement,
and fill me wonder that you should love me so.

Let my life be a celebration of thanksgiving;
so that I may feel your touch in the warmth of the sun,
hear your voice in the whistling wind, and
see you always in the eyes of the stranger.
Let all things great and small inspire me to love you more.

As I count my blessings let me never forget,
that the greatest gift of all is that you call me Beloved.
Despite my sinfulness, you have chosen me for your own.
In my littleness, you make my heart your home.
How can I thank you for such a love as this?
Let my gratitude be in the letting go
of all that keeps me from you,
so that you alone will be more than enough for me.
Let me embrace with joy your great gift of love.

"Go thou to Rome..."

At the end of August, I intended to post weekly to this blog.  Best laid plans aside, it is now October, and this is the first post in months.  Now, I write about our visit to the Eternal City, to Roma!  What can I say about Rome.  I had extremely high expectations headed to Italy.  I have wanted to go to Italy my entire life.  It was on my "bucket list."  My only trepidation heading into the trip was that my expectations were so high.  I should have feared not, because Italy did not disappoint.  I have never experienced anything like Rome. Quite frankly, I do not expect anything made by man to exceed the wonders of Rome.  We decided to rent an apartment there for about a week and take a few day trips.  However, the city was so immense and fascinating that the only day trip we took was to Assisi (a more idyllic and peaceful setting I have never seen.)  So, Rome and Assisi awed and inspired us.  I have decided to write about our experiences both as a diary of sorts, and possibly to help those who may be deciding to take a trip there themselves.  For Jim and I, we wholeheartedly agree with the English poet, Percy Shelley: "go thou to Rome." 

First, our itinerary (with the support of Rick Steve's superb guidebook on Rome):

Monday 10/7- We arrived around 9am and became acclimated to the city and the time change.  We simply walked around the sites including: St. Peter's Basilica, Castel Sant'Angelo, the Spanish steps, Trevi Fountain, Piazza Navona, Piazza Colonna, Campo de'Fiori (Steve's "Heart of Rome" walk) and back to our apartment near the Vatican through Trastevere.

Tuesday 10/8 (our 25th anniversary)- We spent the morning and early afternoon at the Musei Vaticani, where among other wonders, we saw the Sistine Chapel (twice, more on that later).  In the late afternoon, we toured St. Peter's Basilica with our wonderful guide, Sister Nancy.  

Wednesday 10/9-  We attended the Papal Audience in the morning.  In the afternoon, we walked up the Via Veneto to the Borghese Gallery. Later, we were again at the Spanish steps, our eyes now on the look out for Bernini! and the passeggiata along Via del Corso. 

Thursday 10/10- Spanish Steps, The Keats/Shelley museum, the Pantheon, Santa Maria sopra Minerva, San Ignazio, to Termini station for our train tickets, the Baths of Diocletian, Santa Maria della Vittoria,  then a long walk past Trajan's Column, Victor Emanuel Monument, the Forum and Colosseum.  

Friday 10/11- to beautiful Assisi via train- Chiesa Nuova, Santa Chiara, San Rufino, San Francesco, San Damiano, The Porziuncola (in the Basilica of Santa Maria degli Angeli).

Saturday 10/12- On to Imperial Rome-  The Roman Forum and Palantine Hill, the Colosseum, San Clemente.

Sunday 10/12- After an attempt to go to High Mass at St. Peter's (we could not even get close), we attended Mass at the American parish in Santa Susanna.  Then we headed back to the Colosseum, Boca della Verita at Santa Maria in Cosmedin, a lovely (and long) walk through a rose garden, a stunning view of St. Peter's, the Protestant Cemetery, the Piramide, St. Peter's in Chains, Santa Maria Maggiore, San Giovanni in Laterno, La Scala Santa, and at the end of the day, to the Steelers bar near Piazza Navona to watch the Steelers game.

Monday 10/13-  San Luigi dei Francesi, Gesu (the Jesuit church in Rome), the Baths of Caracalla, back to St. Peter's Basilica, Piazza del Popolo, Santa Maria del Popolo and back to Piazza Navona and Campo de'Fiori. 

A hundred more years....

It's been a long time since I posted here. You would never know it, but I have been writing a lot.  In trying to write for the blog, I discovered that I loved the process, especially writing poetry.   The creative writing became part of my prayer practice, and I have ended up with lots of poems.   Writing as part of my prayer, meant writing from my heart, and this meant that the end product was far to personal for me to post on the web.  I ended up really admiring authors who could tell it like it is and then put it out there for the world to see.  I think of one of my favorites, Heather King, a writer and self described "ex-barfly, ex-lawyer, Catholic convert".  Ms. King's writing is so raw and direct that it goes straight to your very soul.  A friend of mine recently talked to me about the need to filter writing through the heart.   I think it is that type of writing that is both cathartic to the writer and touching to the reader.   Writing that touches people comes directly from the heart. For me, writing that comes from my heart, comes from my prayer.  It has become part of my spiritual journey.
So, why now back to this blog?  Of course, it is a matter of the heart that brings me back. I have come to love the summer.  The demands of the world decrease,  the pace is slower, and best of all, the kids are home from school.  Since my son has gone to college, the summer gives us an extended time to be together as a family, and I just love the company of my children. Now, the dreaded end of the summer is upon me.  This means that the kids will be back in school.   For the girls, it is their senior year. It will be a year of many thresholds and changes for them and for us.  For my son, it means back to college. A quieter house, empty rooms, and his presence dearly missed.
Any mother knows that a part of her heart is always with her children.  It is just the way it is.  So, the end of summer for me means that my heart will once again be separated from itself.  I have watched many mothers post their back to college laments on the social media.   I know that many mothers have had to say far more heart wrenching goodbyes.   For me, I have spent much energy trying to hold back the sands of time.  I look at the pictures of my cousin's adorable little sons and remember when and wish that time would not move so fast.  I would freeze my time with my children and as a song I know goes: "make it last for a hundred more years."  As if somehow, if I could just muster enough energy and will, I could keep the door from opening and the children from walking through it.   But, walk through it they must, and so too must I.
I know that the children are on their own spiritual journey.  We are all moving towards God.  So much of my life has been spent guiding them, that I forget that I am walking my own path towards God.  In between the tears, I am happy to let go of my children with great pride as I watch them become the most amazing young people.  The hole that is being left by their growing and moving on in their own lives is huge and is only getting bigger.  What I need to do is let go and let only God fill that hole.  I believe that there is a depth to the spiritual life that I have not yet begun to explore.  I have learned that my writing is part of this adventure, and that is what I hope that it will be.  An adventure filled with promise, hope and beginnings. An adventure that will lead me closer to God.   So, I return to this blog planning to spend more time writing and posting.  For anyone who ends up reading, welcome and thank you for sharing the journey with me.
P.S.- I asked my wise beyond her years and resident artist daughter to review this before posting. He words to me:  "Mommy, maybe it would help you to think of your heart as expanding and not separating.   There is just a wider radius of Momma."  Now, I wonder, who is guiding who?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d0Uz51NJJxM

More Poetry...

So, Savannah said that I can post more of her poems as long as I post mine too. So, again for Poetry Month, here is one of mine:

The Gift

This night,
the full moon breaks forth from the deep darkness.
And the world is bright as day,
yet still and quiet,
safe and hidden in the black of the night.
The stars are clearly seen.
Their luminous pattern sprinkles the sky,
telling a story about the origin of the earth,
or simply telling my story.

A wide ribbon of white gracefully dances through
the bold light of the moon and the gentle light of the stars,
tying the splendor seen as if a bow on a package.
The sky above beckons to  me.
I am excited as a child.

Do I dare to open the gift before me?
Do I dare to see what God has in store?
Do I dare to see God?
Not only in the glorious beauty above,
Not only in the sacred silence of this night.
But in the hearts of those around me?
In the many stories of every life,
More stunning than the multitude of the stars.

Autism Awareness

I recently saw the following  post on Face Book from Autism with a Side of  Fries: "April is Autism Awareness Month.  Or as I like to call it, every single day in this house."  My immediate reaction was, "been there, really done that." I knew exactly what she was talking about.  Autism awareness has filled every day of my life experience for almost 20 years. First, it was working through each day trying to be aware of what my son was thinking and why he was behaving the way he was.   I believe that I was his interpreter for a very long time.  When he did not have the words to say what he was thinking or feeling, I needed to figure it out in order to help him through.  I think that I became very good at that interpreting.  All along I wanted him to understand what the "real" world was expecting, while still trying to let him be himself.  And so, all the blue signs popping up calling for "Autism Awareness"  led me to start thinking about what this awareness really should involve.
Over the years, I have come to think of autism less and less as a disability.   I have grown to accept, and even appreciate it as a different way of thinking.  While my son has difficulties with social interactions, anxiety and rigid thinking, these issues are far outweighed by his positive attributes.  My son is a wonderful listener.  He does not have all of the attachments to things and the expectations of others that keep most of us from being truly present to our lives.  He is always honest.  The "rule boy" in him means that he respects the rules of life.  He respects others.  He is accepting and genuine.  There is no pretense whatsoever about him. He knows how to be quiet and he appreciates solitude.  He does not expect people to be anything other than who they truly are.  He has a different way of thinking all right.  But, I have started to wonder if the world would not be a much better place if we all engaged in this different way of thinking.   And here in lies the crux of what autism awareness has come to mean to me.
My son has taught me to look for and understand and embrace the differences that each one of us has.  For a very long time now, I have never been in a store and wondered why the parents of a child in meltdown could not better control him.  It has been a long time since I have wondered with a critical eye why a person was dressed in an unusual way or engaged in a quirky behavior.  He has taught me that words are much less important than actions and that I do indeed use far too many words.  He has taught me that in silence, true awareness begins and this makes real presence possible. Our entire journey with autism has been one of awareness.  The kind of awareness that leads to appreciation, respect, love and admiration for the differences and beauty that each person brings to the world through their own "different way of thinking."  

April is National Poetry Month

Savannah has informed me that April is National Poetry month.  She and one of her friends have decided to write a poem each day for the month of April.  She also has me writing some poems.  I am delighted to see that Savannah is turning out to be an extremely talented writer.  Her recent short stories have been amazing and I simply love her poetry.  So, to celebrate poetry and creativity, here is one of Savannah's poems:

Wondrous Creativity

Create what cannot be created
Do not let anything stop you
Feel what cannot be felt
Before it is too late

Take a memory
So dear and fine
And paint that picture
In your mind

Live it, learn it, feel it, sweet
Allow reality and creativity
To kindly meet
Let the sparks fly

Twist it, turn it, mold it, fly
To what can't be seen by natural sight
Don't let gravity stop your hand
That writes the image in the sand

Do not fear
The strength of creativity
It is is not harmful
It shows you how

There are lessons to be learned
And only you know them
So let them go softly
In the form of rich art.

Just beautiful Savannah!!!  More poems to come this month!!

To be "astonished" by God

          At times, while reading Scripture, a word will jump out at me.  If this happens, I will try to stay with the word and pray about what God may be trying to tell me.  I was reading John 5:17-23 and came to the following: “The Father loves the Son and shows him all that he himself is doing; and he will show him greater works than these, so that you will be astonished.”  I simply stopped at the word “astonished.”  I have to say that this struck me with wonder. What was Jesus saying here?  Does God want us to be astonished? The prospect of God wanting us to be filled with wonder filled me with delight.

          I decided to look up the definition of astonish.  Astonish means “to strike with sudden and usually great wonder or surprise.”  Astonish, wonder and surprise are words filled with such infinite promise.  Here was Jesus saying that the works of the Father would astonish us.  I began to think of Jesus being astonished.  He must have completely enjoyed all of the beauty of creation. He had to utterly immerse himself in life.  What did he feel when he watched the sun rise and set?  Was he captivated by a full moon on a lush summer evening?  Was he fascinated by the utter variety of the human face?  Did he relish the company of his friends?  What flowers took his breath away?  Did bird song fill his heart with joy?  The possibilities are endless.  Thinking about the astonishment of Jesus led me to assess my own propensity to wonderment.

          I cannot think of being astonished without children first coming to mind.  Children are both astonishing and endlessly astonished.  I don’t know many people who are not captivated by young children.  Their capacity for wonder is seemingly boundless. Even the smallest and seemingly most insignificant thing can bring them joy.  My favorite story about the wonder of a child comes from an experience with my daughter Regan.  Regan was constantly enchanted by everything.  She would draw and write.  On a few spring evenings, we even had to make tiny clothes for the leprechaun on St. Patrick’s Day.  There are many tales of a delighted Regan, but what I remember most was the day that she was outside calling excitedly for me to come and see what she had found.  I went outside to see this small girl with her radiant smile hunched over while she struggled to carry a huge rock.  When she saw me, Regan beamed with excitement and announced: “Mommy, mommy, look!  I found a meteor!”

          When do we lose our capacity for this type of astonishment?  When do rocks cease being meteors?  When do we stop believing in leprechauns?  After reading Jesus speak of being astonished, it occurred to me that God really does intend for us to be filled with awe and wonder.  After all, we are his children, his beloved sons and daughters. Of course, the all loving Father would want to see his children filled with joy and awe over his bountiful creation.   Jesus said that we need to be like little children to enter into the kingdom.  Maybe one of the reasons for Jesus’ charge to be childlike is God’s desire to astonish us.

          My own assessment of my sense of astonishment confirms the need to be childlike. I know that in those moments that take my breath away, I am closest to my inner child.   Sometimes I am very aware of when my inner child takes over.  I had a recent experience at that local home improvement store. Color astonishes me.  Invariably, when I am surrounded by color, I simply stop thinking and start smiling.  While in the home improvement store, I was in a somber mood and was dutifully looking for just the right shade of teal and gray for our living room.  Soon, I was attracted by the reds, bright pinks, and then, my favorite of all, orange.  I ended up picking all kinds of color cards and excitedly went to find my husband and daughter.  When my daughter Savannah saw the orange color card, she said emphatically, “Mother, we are not going to paint the big room orange too.” (Yes, my kitchen is already a bright shade of orange.)  At that point, my fun was dashed.  I knew then that my inner child had taken control and succumbed to all the wonderful colors. 

          How often has the flash of a red flower caught my attention while on a determined drive, or the brilliant cardinal flew past while I was distracted with work?  How fleeting are these moments of wonder.  But, if God desires us to be astonished, why should the moments of wonder only sporadically cross our paths in the hurried and busy pace of life?  The saints were filled with awe for God and his works.  While praying on the word “astonished”, I read that the gentle and child-like St. Francis of Assisi “was amazed by the sound of the astonishing voice”  upon hearing the Lord in the San Damiano Chapel tell him to “rebuild my church”. In focusing on the word “astonished” in this Scripture passage, I thought that perhaps astonishment needs to be cultivated.  Perhaps I need to practice taking time each day to deliberately ponder the wonder of God’s creation.  I need to allow myself to be carried away by color or inspired by some beautiful music. I need to write about my wonder.  I need to let God astonish me, each and every day, right where I am in my life.  I need to be astonished by the mere fact that he loves me that much.   As I drove pondering this question, I was listening to some music and heard:  “I don’t know how, but when He touched me, I was blind and now I see.”  And maybe that is really what is going on.  When Jesus touches us, he gives us new eyes and we can finally see.  How can we not be astonished? 

Good Morning God

Included in my morning routine is a quick text to my son in college.  Now, how many of these he actually sees is not the point.  Since Jim views the phone as useful only for necessary communication, his phone is usually turned off.  Still, I want to greet him in the morning.   When I got my new phone, Savannah showed me the wonders of the voice to text.  Since I find the use of the little buttons to text very frustrating, I usually avail myself of the dictation.  This morning, after a sleepy prayer time, I dictated my morning message to my son.  I intended for it to say: Good morning guy, I hope you have a great day, love you.  However, this is not quite how it came out.  The dictation showed:  good morning god I hope you have a great day love you. 

While I dutifully corrected the god to guy, another thought came to me.   The beautiful idea that God desires a friendship with us has been a constant theme of late in my readings and also appeared in this past Sunday’s homily.  To borrow also from a recent homily, I may know in my head that God wants a friendship with me, but do I know it in my heart?  I often see this as a matter of awareness.   God is always there waiting for me, but given my state of mind, do I even think of him?

I have been struggling to find a way to build that awareness.  Even today in my morning prayer, as I tried to prayer with the Scripture, I found myself falling asleep.   I recently finished Patricia Livingston’s wonderful book, “Let in the Light”.  Among the many beautiful, simple concepts in that book was the suggestion to pray in the way that is comfortable to me.  Ms. Livingston also reminded me that “productivity” in prayer is not at all up to me.  God takes the initiative and it really is all up to Him. This little text message then raised a question.   It was not lost upon me this morning that I nearly fell asleep during my formal prayer time, but God seemed to be speaking to me as I reached out to someone that I love dearly. 

Ms. Livingston’s book and the other readings that have crossed my path of late have really encouraged a constant communication with God.   I was urged to talk to him as a friend about all things throughout the entire day.  Turn my distractions, worries and anxiety into prayer.  Give these thoughts to God.  Let Him become a constant presence in my life.  So, when I saw the dictation error, I thought that it may be one of those tiny ways that He communicates with me all day.  I saw it as an invitation to further that friendship in a simple and comfortable manner.   What better way to begin a constant daily communication with God? What better way to develop a friendship with Him than to greet Him first thing in the morning with a statement of love?  Perhaps I have been trying to compartmentalize my pray when I should just be talking to Him all day long.  So, maybe the text was not an error at all.  Good morning God I hope you have a great day love you.  

The Dude Sweater

One of the things I want to do in this blog is record my knitting adventures.  After long languishing on my needles, I am finally making progress with the Dude sweater. http://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/the-dude The Dude sweater is a replica of that worn by Jeff Bridges as the Dude in the film "The Big Lebowski."  This movie is one of Jim's favorites and since his aunt has long dubbed him "Dude", the sweater was a natural choice to make for him.  So, when Jim left for college, (yes, I have been working on this for that long) I started this sweater.  What I did not know when I started was that it was extremely difficult to knit long sections of color work not in the round AND in 1X1 rib. (excuse the knitter's speak) I kept searching for a trick on how to accomplish this and having found none, my zeal for the project waned and it sat for a long time.  So long in fact that my dear mother-in-law suggested that I would give it to Jim for a graduation present. (She did not say whether it would be graduation from college or the PT program.  That would give me another 2 years to finish.)  After Christmas, I picked the project back up and hope to finish the back very soon.  My plan is to finish the sweater by spring.  While Jim won't be able to wear it this winter, hopefully he will have it for the next and then for many, many years to come.  I wonder if I will look back on this blog post and think, boy, was I overly optimistic, or actually end up finishing this sweater.

The Snow Day that Wasn't

School was cancelled today.  At this later hour in the morning, the snow has just started and I am wondering why they did not try to get the day in some how.  After all, we lost all those days to the hurricane.  I assume that they must be concerned about the coming ice.  If you can manage to stay at home, who does not like a snow day?  It is a forced change in routine.  A chance to slow down a little.  Maybe a chance to catch up on things, or just do nothing at all.  Since I am lucky that I can work at home, I have always been one to enjoy a snow day.
This morning, I found myself reminiscing about the times when my son was young when there was an expected snow day that did not happen.  The use of the word "reminisce" is actually quite amusing, since it means to "indulge in an enjoyable recollection of past events."  I guess when your first child is in college, you find yourself reminiscing about just about anything.   In reality, there was nothing enjoyable about what happened when a snow day that my son expected did not happen.  When a predicted storm was on the radar, it ended up on my son's radar as well.  Only when it ended up on his radar, it became an event which he thought was guaranteed to happen.  I would dread hearing people talk about the coming storm and it was information that was nearly impossible to avoid.   I knew that school staff also talked about what would happen if the school day was missed.  Only, we all would be flexible if the snow day did not happen.  In fact, most adults would even be happy not to have to deal with the mess of travel and clean up.  But, flexible was not a word that could used to describe my son.  His need for routine and structure guaranteed that the missed snow day would end up in a meltdown.  The end result was that we needed to have a plan to work with if the snow day did not happen. These plans included the snow day social story and intervention from his speech therapist.  I recall lots of attempts to reason with him that no one, not even the teachers, was particularly happy to be at school if they had hoped for a day off due to snow.
I don't know if this happened because the predicted snow day became part of his rule structure, or if he just really needed a day off from school and was counting on the break.  My son spent a lot of energy just to get through the school day.  Being the rule boy that he is, he was never a behavioral issue at school.  In fact, he was the model student.  However, we experienced the fall out from school stress at home.  It was no wonder why he would crave the snow day off.  Ultimately, we realized that scheduled infrequent "break days" from school made a big difference in addressing his anxiety.  Most times, he did not even use the "break day", but simply knowing that he had one made a big difference.  The snow day dilemma became less of an issue once the "break day" was implemented.   Like thunderstorms in November, the snow day issues faded as my son became more flexible and increased his understanding.  Now, it is just a memory, enjoyably recalled as the snow falls on this quiet and peaceful morning.

About the title...

Anyone who is the parent of a child with autism knows that routine and structure is extremely important for that child.  My non-expert opinion of autism is that it is in essence a social communication and anxiety disorder. At least that is how it has always presented for my son.   I believe that the need for routine and structure really comes out of that anxiety.  The child with autism cannot predict what is going to happen next like the rest of us.  So, they create order any way that they can.  Therefore, they create routines, and many times create lots of rules as well.
Raising a rule boy carries with it many blessings.  Just like it sounds, my son always follows the rules.  I have always thought that this added to his structure, routine and decreased his anxiety.  For the most part, that made parenting him very easy.  Even now, he still follows the rules. The speed limit is what it says, not many miles higher.  Another reality to ease parental worry about travel.  However, when he was younger, he also created his own rules.  To the extent where we could honor them, we did. There was no sense in adding to his anxiety if his rules were reasonable.   However, he frequently created rules over which we had no control and these included rules about the weather.  What is a parent to do when a child decides that there can be no thunderstorms in November or snow in April?   Well, we prepared for the coming storm that would happen in our house, much more so than for the one that happened outside.  My son's anxiety would increase gradually, first with the prediction of the weather and then with the onset of the storm.  All the preparation in the world did not stop the fact that his weather rule had been broken.  There was a great sense of frustration that God just did not seem to follow the rules.
As with all aspects of his autistic traits, my son's trouble with these pesky weather rules substantially decreased over time.  I think it safe to say that these issues no longer bother him.  He learned to be flexible and roll with the punches.  But, I still cringe a little when I hear that there will be a thunderstorm in November or snow in April.  I remember the frightened little boy and I appreciate the fine grown man that he has become.  A thunderstorm in November (at least in eastern Pennsylvania) is certainly not a typical occurrence.  It is something unexpected to which people react in various ways; good, bad or indifferent.   Thunderstorms in November posed a real challenge during those years. But, I came to appreciate and even enjoy a good storm.

The Big 50

 Today is my 50th birthday.  I am strangely excited about this milestone.  I had always thought that I would dread turning 50, but something has shifted.  Recently, the idea of turning 50 has turned into the possibility of being open to new experiences with a deeper perspective than I had before.  It has come from the idea that as we age, we let go of the unimportant things in life.  In the letting go, we are able to find our true selves. 

The other day, I had a conversation with a friend about my excitement.  My friend pointed out that the Gospel for Sunday was about the marriage feast in Cana.  Jesus's first miracle was to change water into wine at the gentle but persuasive urging of his mother.  The wine that Jesus provided was so good that it prompted the head waiter to remark to the bridegroom that he had "kept the good wine until now."  John 2:1-11.  My friend drew the comparison that what lays ahead is perhaps the "good wine" kept for last.  I have not been able to stop thinking about this analogy and the possibility it carries.  Is this new wine an openness to new experiences, a shedding of thinking patterns that are no longer productive or useful?  I do not know.  What I do know is that the "good wine" of my life cannot be made by me.  Like the beautiful Gospel story of the marriage of Cana, the good wine can only be created by Jesus.  I think that maybe the best part about turning 50 is that I am finally realizing that I simply need to keep out of His way and cooperate with the wonderful plans that He has for me.

So, it is in the last few days that I decided to start a blog on my 50th birthday.  I have long thought about writing a blog, but have made one excuse after the other.  Would I have time? Who would want to read it anyway?, and so on and so forth.  But, I realized that I like to write and I like to be creative. This blog is the start of a new creative adventure and I hope a real spiritual journey.  I will write about my knitting, spinning, photography, and maybe I will be brave enough to share my poems.  I will write about the journey through autism with my son.  It is from this journey that I derive the title of the blog.  A post about this will follow soon.  I also started a 365 days of life project, which I read about on another blog.  You take one or more pictures for an entire year, and I started a few days ago.  I plan on sharing my photos here.  I know that I am  planning a lot of things and I don't know what will develop.  But, the important thing that I wanted to do today is start.  Start this blog and most of all, start cooperating with Jesus as He works in my life.