How do people end up on Skid Row? For years I have asked many of the occupants this question. Studies validate the fact that a large portion of population of the homeless are mentally inept to function in a normal environment. Drugs are the coping antidote, and we all know that it leads to addiction. The Devil is rampant on Skid Row, people not starving for food, but for a purpose of finding who they are. Sadly, when you end up here, you believe that this is your lot in life. There are plenty of programs that offer help, but when you fall deep into the abyss of helplessness, you believe the lie. When we pray for the people on Skid Row it is always to remind them that even in the most desperate of situations, God is in there, in the midst of them.

This week we were welcomed with great affirmation, with many of the homeless wanting prayer. Through the deplorable conditions, the rubble of trash, rises a small ray of hope. If we just reach one hurting soul, to pull him or her out of his or her desperation, it is well worth the effort, because as St. Teresa of Calcutta said, “if there is breath, there is life.”

God always protects us and uses us as his instruments of love. If your senses can get through all the jungle of smells, flies and unfathomable conditions, then you will make a difference in others people’s lives on Skid Row.

The streets that we normally walk were completely impassable due to tents and other debris, so we changed our route and headed west toward San Julian Park. As we walked down Wall Street we discovered an amazing sight. Hollywood Mobile Grooming set up several vehicles offering free dog grooming services  for the homeless people’s pets. In the past years there has been a great increase in population of dogs as companions for the homeless. The pet owners  formed a line with their anxious Heinz 57 variety, of either Chihuahua mix or pit bull mix, with the dogs having a spa day. A dog changes the heart of a homeless person by offering unconditional love, and adds a sense of responsibility. Great is your reward Hollywood Mobile Grooming, thank you for providing wonderful services.

This was a busy week. I had two of grandkids staying with us since Thursday, which means cooking, packing lunches, and driving kids to and from school. At first Mike (husband) said he was going to help, but early on in the week he was invited to a business golf tournament in Phoenix, and that was the end of that. I was a one woman show, but with the grace of God all went well. Maddie and Will and their friends even helped with making the sandwiches.

I am part of a team of dedicated servants of Christ. Jane, Robert, John and Gary we are regulars with this ministry, and together we share the love of Christ to those who want to hear, and to those that do not, a silent prayer is said on their behalf.

This is the first week of Advent, so we are to reflect deeply inward in our spirit and ask God to guide us into this holy season of Christmas. Please join us in taking a few minutes of your day to pray for Karen, who is suffering from advanced lupus; and for Derrick, Derrick, and Raymond. They too are seeking God.

“But if serving the LORD seems undesirable to you, then choose for yourselves this day whom you will serve, whether the gods your ancestors served beyond the Euphrates, or the gods of the Amorites, in whose land you are living. But as for me and my household, we will serve the LORD.” Joshua 24:15

On our first Christmas I got the idea that I would make my own tree ornaments. I am not very good at this type of stuff, but through the years one ornament survived. It is the most unattractive of all ornaments, in fact my five-year-old grandson could have done a better job. This ornament symbolizes our marriage. Every year I carefully bubble wrap the ornament and every year I pull it out and hang it next to ornaments of more beauty. The simple handmade addition to the tree will always hold this special meaning. It is fragile and some of glitter always ends up on my hands, reminding me of how something so meaningless to others is so valued in my heart.

With 46 years of marriage under my belt, I can truly say that we are a testament of what a marriage is about. I could have never succeeded in anything in my life without God. We fight for what God  has brought together. From my marital experience I have learned a lot. One lesson is that a woman must know her role in the family. If you treat your mate like a king you will in turn be treated like a queen. The man too must know his role as a provider or else the marriage is not on a solid foundation.

It was not always like this in our marriage, because I was hellbent on being a feminist. I wanted my equal rights, and believed that if I did not stand up for my convictions I would fall into the cracks of a man’s world. This caused an unnatural imbalance in our marriage. I attended a class of hard knocks, sat in the front row and learned my proper role as a wife. I became submissive, not in a weak sense  but in a loving manner. My marriage grew stronger and stronger because of the rules that God had laid down in the Bible thousands of years ago. By no means is my marriage perfect, but we fix things that are broken.

In my late  thirties I did attend a class at a local church on how to become a “fascinating woman.” This was a mini seminar that at first I struggled with because I thought I knew everything about life. These classes helped me to become more intuitive in my mannerism as a woman. The redirection from the classes facilitated my life with Godly order.

I was gradually changing, I started to thank Mike for the things that he naturally did for me. Mike washes my car every other week and gasses it up. I always took this for granted, but I started calling Mike and thanking him for doing this, and I really meant it. I was changing and becoming more appreciative of all that he did for me. He, in return, would speak to me in a more loving and kind way. We have always loved each other, but not always appreciated what we did for each another. Mike is that guy that wants to take care of his family and I like being cared for, as it feels safe.

Even in this stage in our marriage we experience trials, but none that God can’t repair.  Just like I protect that special ornament by keeping it safe, so our marriage need that same gentle touch; that’s how our family deals with marriage.

My organizational chart reads: God first, followed by husband, and then children, I am not listed on this corporate graph because I am a intricate part of everyone I love.

We all have a free will, so choose God and your path will be straight.

“Let the peace of Christ run in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful.” Colossians 3:15

My husband, Mike, has been making our Thanksgiving dinner for as long as I can remember.  He brines the bird overnight, and is up by 4:00 A.M. to start all the side dishes. I usually go to the 9:00 AM Mass and then clean up all the pot and pans that Mike uses. Mike is a lone cook and needs the entire kitchen to himself. Don’t bother with small talk because his head is so in the game that he can’t hear you. I learned early on not to bother the genius while he is cooking. With every move of his hands, chopping, stirring, grating, seasoning and tasting , it is done in great love for his family.

I never really understand why Mike likes to use those cheesy aluminum containers, but last year it was a disaster. When we remodeled our kitchen, I wanted a colored stove with personality. We purchased a mint julep Viking stove, Mike used this oven for the turkey. He placed a 24-pound turkey with stuffing into the flimsy aluminum tray. Everything was going great, the house smelled of turkey, and all the trimmings, and even the basting was going great. Mikos (our son) came in and darted straight  into the kitchen for sampling, he picked at everything possible and disappeared before the turkey incident. Mike was about ready to get the turkey out when that cheap tray screamed, “I can’t hold all this weight!” The aluminum container  buckled and all the juices from our beautiful bird fell on to the kitchen floor. In a panic Sonja and I tried to save some of fat for the gravy while Mike transferred the fowl into the proper container. The smell of burnt fought with the scent of the turkey, but what was burning? At first I thought it was the juices hitting the oven floor but the smell was different. All of the stove’s electrical compartments are located where the juices fell. For days the burnt smell would slap you in the face as soon as you opened the front door.  The repair was a huge expense, and the Viking representative said that we burnt out the main transformer.

After dealing with the angry bird, we said grace and chowed down yet another of Mike’s perfect meals. It is an unbelievable experience to eat Thanksgiving at our home. The turkey is tender with a sweet hint of spices that dance slowly in your mouth. Mike’s potatoes are eleven-layer au gratin with special sort of stinky cheese that blends perfectly when baked. The stuffing is Mike’s own creation of corn tortillas, hot sausages, onions and God know what else. The tortillas are fried first, and then added to the mix. The cream style corn is everyone’s favorite, and Mike broils it, making the top a bronze color. The only downfall of our eating frenzy is that we always seem to burn the rolls, so I’m taking the rolls to Mass to get them blessed.

Jenny is in charge of appetizers and salad. Our sweet Jenny makes the best salads with homemade dressing, and surprises us with wonderful appetizers. Sonja is in charge of the desserts, not just any but award-winning pecan pie, bread pudding, and pumpkin pies, so you need to save room for these delights. The award is that we get to eat them. Mikos brings the beer and Russ makes the best corn dip ever! Norma, Mike’s sister and her husband Les drive all the way from Buellton to join the feasting, bringing wine from their region to complement our meal.

During  dinner it’s Mike this, Mike that, so many compliments, but does anyone compliment the cleanup lady? While everyone is visiting, I’m elbows deep in deboning the leftover meat off the turkey. Sorting and putting food away, and washing the real silverware and stem crystal by hand is a monumental chore. Not once has anyone said “Wow Mom! You really know how to clean!” They are too full, and the food coma has caused them to see life in a blur. In the last couple of years some of the ladies have helped with the cleanup which is greatly appreciated. I vaguely remember Mikos and Russ (son-in-law) helping as well, but for the most part It’s me.

Thanksgiving Prayer:

Dear Lord, We invite you into our home to bless all who pass through our threshold.  We are ever thankful for all you do for us. Bless those that prepared the meal with great love. Let our conversation be loving and kind. May there be joy in our mouths and hold our tongues from speaking hurtful words. Bless all the volunteers that take time from their busy day to feed the homeless. In great Thanksgiving of your wonderful love we praise you!