Showing posts with label Faith. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Faith. Show all posts

Friday, September 03, 2010

VAPORS

We went to Ken Proctor's visitation this evening at Thompson-Wilson Funeral Home. His death yesterday was such a shock! It was so sudden!

While it was a sad occasion, it was really good to see so many of Amy's-age friends: Kelly, Kyle, Leslie, John and their boys; Mark and Mary Claire, Stephen, and even Rick and Irene, whom I don't see very often - just in passing at church. Leslie, Mary Claire and their families have moved to the NE part of Arkansas; and John, Leslie and their boys are getting ready to do move to Dubai to do mission work. I told Paul it was like going back in time. (Interesting side note: One of my classmates and her husband (both from Iuka) bought Ken's house in Jacksonville when he moved back to Wynne years ago. Linda and Tom (who was in the Air Force) still live in Jacksonville.)

So many pictures of Ken, his family, his interests. I'd forgotten about his Mustang and I don't recall knowing that he rode a motorcycle. Maybe I knew that. He sang for a few years in a quartet with David Dowd, Jeff Epps, and Gary Eakin - (in photo of tape: David, Ken, Gary, Jeff, 1998). Fortunately I still have their tapes and even more fortunate a cassette tape player so I can play them.


In the book we're reading in Bible study - Crazy Love - the second chapter is titled "You Might Not Finish This Chapter." We truly do not know. While I am so grateful for every day, and seem to appreciate each new day even more than the day before (they are going by so quickly!), I know I take a lot for granted. I'm brought up short when I hear things on the radio such as, "Our life span is around 70 years..." And here I am 62. We live like we have forever; I have all these plans and things I want to do, and that's all well and good. But after watching the space video earlier this week and how tiny, miniscule and particulate we are in God's huge realm, I often think about that breath, that vapor I am. Such a short inhale/exhale; mist rising and vanishing.

I read on Facebook or somewhere today a question: "How do you know God has not always been involved in your life?" Or something like that. He is, whether we realize it or acknowledge it. If we just stop and think: Would we want to be hanging in this universe like a speck of dust without God's involvement and being in control of it all? That's a terrifying thought. But think of His mighty hand, holding all things in place just as they should be. He is in control of dust particles and vapors as well as planets, galaxies and universes.


God's Eye Nebula: A trillion-mile long tunnel of glowing gases. ~~Hubble space telescope.

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MARSHA'S APRON

I did manage to make Marsha's apron today. It is not without fault and it gave me more problems than any of the other six so far. But it turned out alright and it's an apron! I just need to standardize my pattern and remember what I did before! (I don't have a pattern - it's all by sight, trial and error. Aprons are not that hard, but standardizing the measurements would help. Me.) I'll get it in the mail to her tomorrow. I'm sure she'll want to take it with her on her and Mike's cruise this month...

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I rarely say anything to my friends who return repeatedly to visit here - but thank you so much. It makes me feel good to know that number ticking upward represents so many who are entertained, maybe even informed at times, and keep on comin' back! Thanks!

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Veteran's Day

We've had family members in the military for as long as I can remember: my father, stepfather, uncles, a cousin, my sister (though Civil Service, still under military leadership). I tease Sher a lot about all the days she has off, and she'll remind me how her department keeps track of so many military bases' expenses, etc., and how every September they work 12-hour-plus days to close out the year.

I appreciate all the hard-working, dedicated servicemen and women who have and continue to protect our nation's freedoms.

It occurs to me there are other veterans - pastoral workers and missionaries who have given of themselves and sometimes their lives for spreading the gospel message of freedom in Christ.

Thank you, every one.

God bless America.

John 3:16

Monday, October 12, 2009

My Trip

Of course, the best part of going somewhere is getting home... But first...

Saturday Paul left around 6:00 and I got up and got myself together for my trip to Iuka. I stopped by McD's for coffee and a biscuit, took Oscar to the kennel by 8:00 and was on my way. (He really looked small in his large comfortable kennel. I took his blanket for him, but went back out to the truck and got the furry seat blanket for him as well. I'm sure he appreciated it. It wasn't easy leaving my baby, but it's such a nice kennel - Classy Pooch - clean, warm and a big play yard for the doggies to run around and get some exercise. I have never seen Oscar loose with other dogs and that would be so interesting to see!)

I got to Bren's around 11:30; we talked about our heart's most pressing issues, cried, passed Kleenex, hugged, prayed. We had lunch and went for a long drive through the county roads, to Pray Pottery (which was closed - we missed it by about an hour), to Pleasant Hill Church, to Holcut and the overlook at the Tenn-Tom. Way across the canal a network of other roads wound up through the hilly embankment and she said the canal eliminated the road that way to her uncle's house. "See the top of the hill? That's where he and Aunt Vonn lived." He still does, but Aunt Vonn passed away in the summer. Now they take another route over the Burnsville bridge and back oh, south, I guess. It was drizzly/misty, so we just walked to the edge of the bank and looked all up and down the waterway at the trees showing some fall colors with summer green fading fast. Honking geese flew overhead. I love that sound! On through the coloring leaves she drove us, past old homes, new ones, and not really knowing exactly where she was. We came out at the road that goes up to Woodall Mountain, the highest point in the state. (I told someone in her SS class the next day all that was missing was her daddy's old straight-shift truck!)



We drove by her son's family's home and her grandsons were out by the back deck. Later they came down to her house on the Chuckwagon. I was amazed at how they've grown and equally astounded to see the plate of brownies quickly disappearing! Growing young men! They were going to the county fair later that night, and I thought, oh, young families that can withstand the cold! Brenda had cooked white beans and she put together the finishing touches on the meal - my favorite - just home cooking - fresh okra (off these stalks, below), potatoes, cornbread. (She cooked her cornbread in a "Munsey" Rival toaster (I'm sure that's a brand name of one we had, but they are all munsey now to me), made from their fresh meal that Jim grinds and bags from local corn. He's president of the Flywheelers (antique tractor club) and we watched a CD of pictures of a recent "play day" in their "front yard" which is seveal acres. Their church across the highway had cooked soup that day, so the Flywheelers contributed to their fundraising and had a good place to eat nearby as well.

Austin (L), Andrew, holding Austin.




After good hot showers, we watched TV for a little while with Jim, then retired to "my" bedroom where we talked some more. We both know from similar circumstances that some things we just can't change and we have to trust God for the outcomes. Some things that happen to us or in our lives may not be for us particularly, but for someone else. We still have a choice about our reactions and decisions about how we'll handle things. We still must trust that God is in control, not us. We pray, and God, knowing our hearts, knows we grieve and hurt. But He tells us, "Hold on to Me. I have plans for you. I have the plans for all of it." So not easy to do. I told Bren that God puts our tears in His bottle. That may be why there are oceans. How do we know what shape His bottle is? Or how big?

We looked at the big coffee table sized "Mississippi" book and we just had to go to bed so we could get up for church. I slept so good in that bed and was barely stiff Sunday morning when I got up. But I'd taken one of my "whole big pills" Saturday night. (Oh, and my bp is getting lower - she took it with J's monitor and it's come down a good bit!)

Sunday morning we were up around 8:15 or so, Jim having gotten up a couple times already since about 5:30, read the paper and had coffee made. He said he started to get us up when he did and I assured him it was a good thing he hadn't! We went to Sunday School (Bren teaches her ladies' class) and church. Something occurred to me, or God showed me this thought while I was sitting there: We know satan attacks our weakest points; she had brought that into the lesson. and I said, "Yes, and the older we get it seems the more we have to struggle against his attacks. He knows his time is limited because we are getting older and he has to step up his attack to get us if he can, before we leave this world." Now I'm not giving satan any credit, but the Bible does tell us to remember God in our youth; to finish the course, to run the race, to fight the good fight. The older we get also, the more and more we must rely on God - our bodies become weak, but our spirits must remain strong. God has won the war; we must face the battles with what He has left us - His Good Medicine, His Word. And I'm not saying that we lose our salvation. It is that satan would like for us to leave here defeated and unhappy. God wants us to meet Him rejoicing!

They are meeting in the fellowship hall temporarily as the sanctuary is being remodeled. Their son David is painting the interior, but was not really happy with the ceiling paint/texture. I'm sure they'll decide before he goes further. Their stained glass windows all have to be taped around and covered, so they're having a work night Tuesday.

We had lunch at North Crossroads, where Bren, Charlotte, Martha, Sher and I went last year. Where Charlotte and Martha met their old classmate Danny Lynch, who died suddenly in the spring. It was a good home-cooked meal - fried chicken breast, which I haven't had for ages, creamed potatoes, peas, slaw. Jim and I ate a piece of cake, which looked like someone's leftover birthday cake - it had writing on the icing - but it was okay. I told Bren I'd have to have a nap before I started my trip home!

Goats at the pond.



Okra stalks. They save the big pods for next year's seed. Jim had a small basket of okra seed drying out.



New Prospect Baptist Church, where Bren's family attends.




So after Bren and I slept a little in their recliners, I packed up and headed back out west. It was late enough and some clouds that the sun wasn't so bright in my eyes. And I had on my RX sunglasses. I left Bren's around 4 and got home a little after 7, so not a bad trip. It was a beautiful day, I listened to NPR, while thoughts and memories surfaced and I am truly thankful for what I can do, for my friends, for a little hometown back in Mississippi, for time just to be, and for home and family.



Paul had a prize for me when I got home: a MS State hoodie! He'd gotten us both one in Starkville, not campus prices, but at Walmart. I can wear it on Friday this week if the temps hold as they are. Oscar was so glad to see him when he picked O up at the boarder's, and me when I walked in at home sweet home.

Friday, September 11, 2009

If Dreams Came True and Remembering 9/11

Most of the time I don't remember what I dream at night. When I wake up sometimes I will think, now remember this - this is what I dreamed about, and then it just evaporates. This morning I told Amy I dreamed but couldn't recall it. Then as I was drinking my coffee I remembered: Teri was alive; we talked, but I don't remember our conversation. I've had several of this type dream where she is back with us.

And I dreamed Paul wanted to knock out the living room wall to make the kitchen/dining area (which we don't use - dining, I mean) larger. But what a lot of work, and what would be gained, really? As for Teri being in my dream, I've dreamed about her several times where she and I would be together, she having just arrived from "somewhere" she'd been all this time, and it's not heaven, though I know she is there. The place is never identified; she just appears. She just carries on as if nothing has happened, and those of us in the dream with her are a little surprised, but not shocked and don't question her appearance. At one of the girls' outings, I had a little video of her and looked everywhere for it after she died. I never found it. In my dreams it is wonderful to "see" Teri and talk to her.

This is the 8th anniversary of the 9/11 attacks. The names of the victims are being read as I write this, Wall Street has stopped for a time of silence, families remember; President Obama speaks for the nation, remembering that time - the families and the rescue workers; children who were small then now stand and give tributes to their fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, friends. Eight years ago when I heard the news, I was on my way to work. At the time, reporters speculated that a plane had accidentally crashed into one of the Twin Towers. By the time I got to work, a lot of the office was crowded around the TV in the servicemen's room and the second plane had hit the other tower of the World Trade Center. Then the Pentagon... Then Flight 93...

We don't want bad things to happen, but they do in this world. We hold fast our faith that God is in control. Doesn't He control our dreams as well? Then I'm thankful for small visits with Teri.

I lift up my eyes to the hills—where does my help come from?
My help comes from the LORD, the Maker of heaven and earth.

Psalm 121:1-2

Saturday, September 05, 2009

Precious People

It saddens a whole community when a tragedy occurs. Yesterday evening's serious vehicle accident in Parkin claimed two lives, left some injured, and all their families' lives changed forever.

We were at Colby's when Paul began to get calls about the accident at Parkin that claimed the lives of Sharon Forrester; and then later Mr. Eldon Waddell died as a result of his injuries.

Everyone felt close to Sharon and no doubt she touched every life in Wynne for many years as the Secretary to Assistant Principal at Wynne High School, and had just retired. We have known her and her family for many years and although our paths didn't often cross since our families are grown and since Paul had retired from teaching at the high school, there was a friendly connection every time we met them - she or Donnie, or their daughters Laura Beth and Susan. Sharon was always so upbeat and happy, laughing, whenever I would see her.

I saw Mr. Waddell at Mike's in Colt several weeks ago and talked to him, just chit-chat - had to have been before I broke my leg, as I've only been there once about two weeks ago and I didn't seen him then. He was always such a gentleman and Paul and I would see him at Mike's often. I'm sure Paul would see him more, being in Wynne. I feel so sad for Twila (Miller), his daughter and other family. Twila is in our Sunday School class.

Chester Williams suffered a broken hip; his grandson Cody is alright. Connie Brawner had a broken collar bone, collapsed lung, broken shoulder, bruised spleen, but will be okay. I haven't heard of injuries to Donnie, Sharon's husband, but I know his heart is broken.

We just don't know why things like this happen; we ask why, and I believe God is okay with our asking. At the same time He is our refuge and strength, a very present help in times of trouble. Our thoughts and prayers go out to all these families, immediate and extended. A community like Wynne, like other towns large and small, cares. What would we do without each other helping with the sorrow of others? What would we do without our Saviour, who knows all our sorrows?

We connect to people we don't even know, as well. I read one of my blogger friend's today and her husband passed away just Thursday from cancer. My prayers go out to her, also.

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

Well Done or Overdone

I was on my feet quite a lot yesterday and PT this morning went well, until it was over. I had not had to take a pain pill during the night and should have taken one before I went to PT today. Majorly hurts! Even my pants leg touching my skin makes my leg/foot feel like it's being electrocuted. So down with one of my helpers after I got home and it's easing up now.

Paul and Amy (visiting) went to the grocery store last night and she made the best spaghetti! She uses minced garlic in the sauce and it just makes it. She experiments and adds this or that and I've always had to go by a recipe. I asked Paul to restock the M&Ms, too. So far I've restrained myself from opening them because they're so easy to eat. But handy. He did get some fruit, too, though - bananas, apples and some mixed cut fruit that was really good for breakfast.

Finally Amy is able to pick Oscar up without him chewing her arm off. It happened once anyway. It's his habit to growl while wagging his tail.

"All the nations surrounded me, but in the name of the LORD I cut them off. They surrounded me on every side, but in the name of the LORD I cut them off. They swarmed around me like bees, but they died out as quickly as burning thorns; in the name of the LORD I cut them off."
Psalm 118:10-12

Friday, June 26, 2009

Retrospect, Reflection and a Little Rambling...

For some reason I made a mental note back in the year that it happened that our house in the country burned on June 25. There was no fire department, no bucket brigade. Only the passing mailman, our Mama, the four of us terrified kids and a garden hose. It burned to the ground, and all the pictures, dolls, Tonka trucks, baby bottles, keepsakes, box of paperback books someone gave us (including The Picture of Dorian Gray), the freezer with the hog's head in it, the milkglass lamps, the little organ that we learned to play "In the Gloaming" by number or color, the shower on the back porch, the faux leopard bucket chair. That was in 1961. I think. Or maybe 1962. The date, though, was June 25.

The most popular singers we knew of were Elvis Presley, Ricky Nelson and Pat Boone. I had one of Chet Atkins's 45's. Not a huge collection. They were filed in their little paper jackets alphabetically, in a little red record holder/box that had a handle.

After Elvis, I guess Michael Jackson was perhaps the biggest, most famous, most well-known pop musician to die tragically, to die young, and to die so alone. June 25.

Farrah Fawcett's death barely made the news before Jackson's reached the TV, internet, Twitter, etc. She battled cancer heroically for several years. June 25.

Forty-eight June 25ths later... Time doesn't stop for anyone. Sometimes I will be waiting at a red light for it to change, or waiting at Wendy's drive-through, or waiting for the microwave bell to ding, or just sitting here writing for however long it takes, or doodling with Photoshop, and I'll think - you are 45 seconds older than you were when you stopped at this light; you are 90 seconds older than when you drove up to this window; you are 20 seconds older than you were when you put this coffee/bread/cheese in here to heat/melt. I don't feel older, look older or act older immediately, but each day's seconds add up to hours, nights, days, weeks, months, years. The seconds, minutes and hours are gaining lots of speed these days!

I've enjoyed the lilies this year and yesterday evening late, Paul and I went to Byron and JoAnn Ponder's to tag some more for this fall's planting. This week - the week of June 25 - they are slowly losing their blooms, having had the glory of color upon them for about two weeks. They showed their magnificence, and they slowly faded. They bloomed, waited for nightfall, aged, faded, and fell. They were beautiful in their time.

God created all things for His glory, in His time and timing, for our good. We grow, grow up, love, marry, bear the next generation, are strong, some more than others, then begin to decline, reflect upon our lives, fade. Our days are His to number and our lives are like mists. Would that Michael Jackson had not lived and died so lonely. Would that Farrah Fawcett had had a longer life. Would that our old farm house still stood there in the country meadow and all that followed could be changed. But would we? Could we? We might not stop and take stock of our lives, the paths we took, who we became and why, what is important, and Whose Hands hold it all in His control anyway.

June 25, 1961...June 25, 2009...

Then there was today....June 26. "Don't keep striving for what you should eat and what you should drink, and don't be anxious" (Luke 12:29) "Worry robs you of the joy that God wants you to have. Matthew 6:34 says 'Don't worry about tomorrow, because tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own...' The one who lives under the protection of the Most High dwells in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say to the LORD, 'My refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.' "

He has a way of getting my attention. Today He told me to believe Him when He said, "Don't worry. Don't be anxious. " I hope I let a little more of that go today.

June 26. Five months to the day from another clear message I got from Him.