Happy New Year.

I’m down for the count. . .   Since mid-December I’ve been fighting  . . .   everything.    Lots of “bugs,”  germs, and infections.

angry blue germ.jpg

Finally succumbed.

I seem to be outnumbered:


All three lines are hitting bottom these days.  Mental, physical, and emotional.     (Not that I believe in biorhthyms.)

Sorry to friends and family and readers (for no contact).     It will take a few more days to get these “lines” to go up again.   God willing.


Just — it’s a good thing I’m not writing what I’m thinking.

“Happy”  New Year seems to be an ironic phrase for 2017.


Oh, wait.  There’s an afterthought.      It came in the form of  a Whisper in my ear.

I was reminded of this:If in this life only we have hope in Christ,  we are of all men most miserable!”         I’m really not  miserable miserable;     just fatigued and sick and a little uncertain and worried, as a good mother and grandmother should be.   And citizen…

Jesus did not come to solve our problems and make us feel better in this life!    If that’s what we think,  we’d really be miserable!

2017 is a new year ahead.   Eternity is a New Life ahead.     Real hope and joy touches Eternity.     I’m okay.


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