The community orchestra prepared for the annual Fall concert for nearly five months. At the final dress rehearsal, the conductor took time during a break to thank everyone who had helped over the past months. He thanked the sponsors, the press, the ladies who had helped with the costumes, and everyone else he could think of.
This week, we are marking the fourth anniversary of my mom being with Jesus. I’ve been reminiscing and pondering all the good things about her. She was an amazing encourager. She used her words for good and the good of others. Don’t ever take your words for granted.
I will be the first to say I am not a tough or strong person. I have very soft feelings and am extremely sensitive. It is not hard to hurt my feelings, just ask my family. In the same sense, my sensitivity also carries over to others. I seem to have the ability to sense when others are hurting or troubled.
A funeral in Appalachia is an emotional and wonderful thing. If you’ve never attended a mountain farewell celebration, there’s much to be appreciated. Last weekend, the funerals of two of my beloved’s cousins were held back home in Belfry. At the first, cousins from all over hugged, laughed, and cried as they reminisced. They hadn’t been together in years. I watched and listened as they talked at once, catching up for lost time.
Wayne and I had dinner with some friends one night last week. We drove separate cars since I went directly from work and he just met me there. I will be the first to admit that I am a terrible night driver and it’s even worse when it is raining.
Just before the recent Republican caucuses, TV journalist Tony Dokoupil was in Iowa asking voters two questions: What do you love about America? And why do you think love of America is fading for some people, mainly those of younger generations? Several people were stumped for answers, but one woman did not hesitate to answer the second question. It’s a change in families. “I don’t think people sit on the porch enough, … and they don’t know the American way,” she said, then added: “The internet took over and built a bunch of idiots.”
In Isaiah 43:19, the Lord said, “See, I am doing a new thing…” But I don’t always love new things, new ways. At times, when things change, I’m dragging my Crocs on the way. These days I find myself praying often for the Lord to help me be flexible. Not bendy, but easier to adapt. I know not all change is bad.
In our kitchen, we have a round table with chairs for four people. The two youngest granddaughters, Liza and Lottie, always want to sit beside Wayne when they are eating, but there is usually a problem. It seems they both want to sit in the same chair. Now mind you both of the chairs on either side of Wayne would qualify as “sitting beside Buddy,” but they want the same specific chair. This becomes a problem, and usually a problem that involves tears.
The girls sat around the wall. Some on mats, some in plastic chairs. Their breakfast trays came so they ate while we studied. Last Sunday at 7 a.m. sharp, we had the privilege of meeting the girls at the county jail for Bible study. The morning’s lesson was from Luke 2:41-52. It’s one of my faves. I used to call it, “Jesus was Lost.” I can most assuredly tell you Jesus was NEVER, EVER lost.
At the end of last year, our church invited people to join a 21-day prayer and fast beginning January 1st and ending January 21st. This was open to anyone who wanted to participate. You would choose something to fast from and then on Monday through Friday there would be a church service at 6 a.m. to attend, on Saturday the service would be at 8 a.m. and of course on Sunday you would just attend one of the church services.
In the push to reach all Georgians with the gospel, the state’s pastors are thinking and working outside the box. Take David Wheeler for example. He’s using people’s fascination with old cars as a way to tell them about Jesus. Nearly 6 million people have tuned in to watch Wheeler and his family restore rusted clunkers on their YouTube program Revstoration. In his discussions about ball joints, brakes, and batteries, he weaves in the Bible.
Reading a book a friend gave me about his father, I began to conjure up memories of my own, memories of adventures with our two daughters, Michele and Marcia, as they danced and tiptoed through their young lives. Here are a few of those gems.
God specializes in new beginnings and fresh starts. Isaiah 43:19 reads, “Behold, I will do a new thing . . .” What new thing does God want to do in your life this year?
I was recently asked about Lottie Moon’s last name, because it’s not a very common name for people of European ancestry. As a researcher and writer, I typically include genealogical research on the people featured in my columns, paying special attention to a family’s spiritual roots. Religious beliefs were the driving force for many early immigrants’ journey to America. It shaped their family’s views of government and religious freedom for generations. People are often surprised to discover the role of faith in their own family’s story.
Way back in the 1900s, there was an amazing, magnificent, almost magical book of wishes. Each year, Sears, Roebuck and Company issued a treasured catalog containing all the toys on earth, and it went to every household. Every. Single. Household. Kids young and old anxiously awaited its arrival in the fall.
It’s that time of year when people make “resolutions.” I have never been big on those, mainly because if I made a resolution I would stress myself out trying to fulfill it and feel guilty if I didn’t totally complete the goal. It’s just not worth it to me.
I heard about the men who went deer hunting and separated into pairs for the day. That night one of the hunters returned, staggering into camp under a 12-point buck. They asked, “Where’s Harry?”
This is the time of year when people are making New Year’s resolutions. Typically, the most common is to lose a few pounds. I suspect you want to lose a couple of pounds. Maybe you need to lose a lot of pounds. Many of us do. From September 1 through December 27, I gained 15 pounds. I know, that’s really bad. I wasn’t bad for four months but I had a few good spells of being bad. On September 1, I weighed 198 pounds. Then on December 27, I weighed 213 pounds.
It’s hard for me to let go of Christmas. The scriptural admonitions woven into the Nativity of Christ to not be afraid are still on my mind. When the angel visited Mary in Nazareth, the words gushed from Gabriel’s mouth: “Do not be afraid … you have found favor with God.” Seeing an angel right in front of her would have been terrifying. Pondering it from this side, I wonder at how important those words would come to be.
Many moons ago, my beloved was sharing a difficult situation with church consultant Dan Garland. Things had been going splendidly…then they were not. Dan is a treasure. He has been a Godsend to us. Since our friendship began in 1999, he has shared from his heart stories of wonderful experiences from his days as a pastor and also gut-wrenching hard times that I am so thankful God brought him through. Over the decades, he has shared insight, encouragement, and laughs with us.
Christmas is just a few days away. The younger grandchildren at my house are definitely excited. Presents were wrapped and put under the tree, and it is killing them to know what they are. I think I have heard, "Can we open just one present?” numerous times a day.
Natalie Grant, the contemporary Christian artist, was interviewed on this year’s special “Christmas with Will Graham.” She learned early in life that Christmas is about giving. Grant was raised in Seattle, and every other year, her family piled into a motor home and traveled from Washington to San Diego to visit grandparents.
Our daughter, Missie, takes after her mother and is a lover of “lists.” Missie is 39 years old, has a form of autism, is developmentally delayed and basically operates on about an 11-year-old level. She loves to make Christmas lists. Now mind you her first sentence when she sends a list is always, “I don’t want much this year,” and then the list starts!
A middle schooler recently told his mother he didn’t like Sunday School because he knew all the Bible stories already. I got a little bit tickled but beg to differ with that young man. Even though I am 62, every single time I open God’s Word He speaks to me.
My brother Ken and I were in prison when our sister was born. At least it felt like prison. Our grandmother—we called her Mama Hudgins — piled four quilts onto our skinny bodies — bedded down in a cold, unheated room—turned the calendar toward the wall so that we wouldn’t strain our eyes trying to figure out the date, pulled the light chain and shut the door.