lola guerrero

50-something empty-nest-search-for-God-and-happiness with more than a dash of humor

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Sunday Scripture 4 featuring Luke 10 verse 27

Jingle Bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way to my video. Haha. Hi!
I noticed I said the wrong verse in my video.  Forgive me. Here is the correct verse Luke 10 v 27 not Luke 11. This verse is about loving  your neighbor as you love yourself. Cheers.

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Julian and Kim’s Wedding


Hello Blogger friends,

Now that my summer activities have finally calmed down,
I can sit in front of my white screen to create a masterpiece.

Last week I attended Julian and Kim’s wedding. Julian is my nephew.

The wedding made me believe, once again, that it  comes down to love
and promises to keep our hearts beating and our souls alive.

It was a garden wedding with white chairs all in rows. I prayed to God
that it would be sunny and 70 degrees on their wedding day for selfish reasons.
My hair does better in sunny weather. As always, God had other plans.
It was a little cloudy and threatening to rain.

Guests  were arriving and taking their designated seats appointed by
Shanelynn, my sister who happens to be the GO TO person at family events

As any wedding goes, there are hiccups along the way, like Julian’s mother was late.
She was caught in traffic or couldn’t find parking…we will never know.
What is important is that she got there!

The wedding was officiated by Julian’s cousin Chrystal. She has no theology degree
nor is she a pastor. She went on the Internet, registered herself to officiate at
weddings, and violá! She can now officiate. I had no idea it’s that simple.
I think it’s a pretty nice weekend gig.

Chrystal did a lovely job. The service was lighthearted , poignant, and quick.

What got to me was their wedding vows. We should all write our own wedding
vows like they did. When the vows are written by the bride and groom, the sweeter
and heartfelt the words become.

As it shows in the video (that I will share), they spoke of being together, making
each other laugh, and being each other’s best friend. They vowed to never go
to bed angry, to hold each other ‘s hands, and to give each other’s lives to keep.

Listening to their vows made me think of my own marriage.
It was refreshing to witness once again what young love is all about
and the promises made to each other.

For sure the love and devotion that Julian and Kim have for each other
will last as long as my marriage of 27 years has.
I hope so.

For I know one thing, a lasting marriage is the sum of all these parts;
being committed to each other, having the desire to make it work, being brave
enough to always keep your hearts open to the light in order to reflect the
promises of tomorrow

I hope you enjoy Julian and Kim’s beautiful wedding video.

Dear God,

Julian and Kim’s wedding was perfect in every way.

Thank you,


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How Do You Show Your Love



How do you show your love?

Do you cook a favorite dish to bring or share?
Do you surprise a special person in your life with their favorite wine?
Do you go pick up a friend and treat them to lunch?

Once a week, I pick up my mother and take her to
the bank or we go have a latte at Starbucks.
Then, I take her  to her favorite Asian market. For some reason
we always end up at the Asian market. It’s a pattern.
But, sometimes we switch it up. Whooppee!!!
We go the market first and THEN have a latte.

The Asian market is located on a corner with
tight parking  and it is always full. I hate it! I’m a snob. I like my cars to be
shiny, clean, and ding free. Just sayin’.

When we enter the store, Mother goes ahead while I
grab a Barbie doll-size  cart. My job is to  follow her and listen.

“Oh,  mangoes. Bery good . . . last week I buy one box,
bery sweet. Today, I get two box. I give to my kids.”

Oh, Holy Spirit, help me. My mother is now promoting mangoes.

Like their parking lot, the aisles in the Asian market drive me nuts.
When others want to pass me, I have to stand in place and not move so they
can zig-zag their own Barbie doll-sized cart past me.

It’s insane. Can’t the owners just make the aisles wider? Guess not.

“I cook for sister-in- law. She tells me she like fish so I cook.”

“Right on, Mother.”

“We go next week and deliver fish.”

I nod.

This can’t be my life. It is all a dream.

“Did you get everything you want at the store?”

“Tank you Lord. I remember soy sauce.
Almost forget.  You know,  I feel happy when I cook and give.”
She continues to talk to me as I merge onto the freeway.

After I dropped off my mother, I realized that what she said made sense.
She demonstrates her love by making favorite dishes for her loved ones.  Cooking tasty dishes is her way of being creative, and let me tell you—the lady CAN COOK.  There are dishes that I will eat every five years ONLY if my mother has prepared them. One is liver. Gross, you say. Well, like I said, every five years I’ll eat it and my mother has to be the chef—and there have to be lots of onions.

Try it, you just might like it.

After being with  my mother, I ended up asking myself how do I show my love?

Here is my list:
*To my husband, sometimes during our walks and when the mood strikes, I hold his hand and say “love you.”
*I show my love to my friends by buying their favorite wine and drinking it with them.  Or I text them to ask about their day.
* I show love to my boys by telling them I’m proud of them and by listening to what they have to say.
*I show my love to my mother by setting aside one day each week to spend time with her and help her with her errands like going to the Asian market.

What does your list look like?

Dear God,
Thank you for showing me how my mother shows her love to others.
I always learn something from her even if I don’t want to.

Situations like these teach us to be better  human beings,
taking us away from focusing only on ourselves and helping us to put our energy into showing our love for others.



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Pork Rinds


How was everyone’s Happy  Easter?
Were you all Happy?

It took awhile for my Happy to kick in.

“We go to  Lucy and Miranda’s home. And then rehab,”
My mother  announces this as she climbs into
the front seat of my car with bags of food.

“What? Huh . . . ? I don’t want to be late for the barbecue.
Why didn’t you call and tell me all this?
Wine starts  at five.”
I can’t believe my life at times. Today, I’m a delivery person.

“You have wine later. We go give food to your aunts. I make noodles
and beans with porkrines.”
She is so proud of herself.
“They can’t chew pork rinds. Their dentures can’t handle
hard foods . . . have you lost your mind?”

“NO worry. I take hammer and hit pork many times.
I put on top of beans. It’s good, you taste.
I give you bowl later.”

“No, thank you.
Why are you kind  to others who are not really nice to you?
And you  barely have cash to buy pork rinds.” 

“Well, eben though,” she puts two palms up in the air.
“It’s  Happy Easter . . . they are too old to cook foods.
Jesus said better to give than receive.
Why you get mad? It’s happy time.”

“I get tired of you being nice to others who
don’t really care about you. I don’t know if you have noticed,
but they can be rude.”

“Never mind . . . you drive, we give noodles,  and porkrines.”

She points to the freeway.

We ring the doorbell bell at Aunt Lucy’s home.
No one answers.
“Maybe they’re dead.”
My mother GLARES at me.
The door finally opens. My Aunt Lucy is wearing a sweater she knitted 50 years ago.
Bending my knees to reach her (she is even shorter than I am), I give her a hug and kiss.
Coming out of the kitchen is Aunt Miranda.
She comes to hug me. My two aunts live
together. Aunt Miranda doesn’t like to
live alone.

“Here is the address to the rehab center, just in case you get lost,” Lucy says. “I hope you
have time . . . its on your way to the barbecue.”
“Why yes, I made time for all this,” I answer, keeping my sarcasm in check as much as I can.
God, help me with these women!!
We make it to Aunt Beth’s rehab center. But, the main entrance is locked.
Oh, this is awesome! We don’t have to go in.

But, Mom spots someone at the other end of the building on the phone
calling for someone to open the side doors.
I can’t believe this is my Happy Easter.  I am supposed to be
happy, forgiving, compassionate, giving of my
time: these are all the fruits of the Holy Spirit.

We go in and find Aunt Beth.
She is eating a hamburger with onion rings.
Have Mercy!!! This is  her standard American diet?
No wonder she looks nine-months pregnant. And my mother
is contributing to her over spreading thighs with pork rinds.

Finally, we make it to the barbecue.
My sister-in-law hands me a full glass of my favorite white wine.
I take a gulp.
Now, I’m Happy. I can breathe.

All last week, I asked God to place angels all around me.
An angel to tell me that he found the right house for us.
An angel to tell my how creative and inspirational I am.
An angel to tell me a joke so I can laugh my pants off.
but NO, He places in front of me   widows and spinsters.

I have come to the conclusion that
God likes to PICK ON ME. And the reason is for
me to be an image of Him.
To have a big heart ,  to have empathy,
to give more , to be more forgiving as I deliver food to the
old people in my life.

Dear God,
Continue to teach me to be the kind of person
you created me to be. Help me not look the
other way when my elders need help.