Hope Lives.

~BELIEVE~

2011-12-22T23:04:00.000-06:00

In 2009, Chase and I used some red window clings at Christmas. They were gel, almost like cut-out Jello words. After Christmas was over, he whimsically put them on the refrigerator spelling out "B*E*L*I*E*V*E. When I went to take the letters off, there on my old fridge remained the word in red. The letters had stained the fridge. I used Comet. I used bleach. I used Magic Eraser. And yet, the word remained. In fact,in this picture from last year (My first, last, and only Christmas with Billy) you can see parts of the word where I covered it up with Chase's school work. Yes, I know we're kissing. But it's the only pic I had with the word on the fridge, and besides, I love that picture. My sister gave 150 dollars for the fridge when I moved to the house next door to Sherri Barr in 2008. It's an old fridge, but works great still, so I didn't spend much time grieving over the markings. Little did I know how much those red letters would come to mean to me.

Heaven has gained some treasures this year, among them my grandmother and my sweetheart. I would be lying if I said the joy this Christmas was easy to come by. No, I had to work at it a bit. I did feel a little bit hypocritical with all my Christmas postings, decorations, songs, and recipes—but only a little. You see, I do love Christmas. I love why we have it, who we honor, what it stands for, and why He came. Without Him and His arms to hold me, His hand to guide me, and his love to comfort me, I do not know honestly how I could have carried my sorrow. But thankfully, I did not have to. For the gift that is Christmas—the holy Son of God Himself--surely He has borne my grief and carried my sorrow. A man of sorrow. Jesus was a man of sorrows—stricken, smitten, bruised, spat upon, cursed—for us. This man knew what it was to grieve.

In Matthew 23:37, Jesus is rebuking the hypocrits. But look at the comparison He makes of His children to little chicks gathered under the mother hen’s wings: “O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you, how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but you were not willing.” He was waiting, willing to draw them to Himself, to protect them, to shield them, to comfort them. But they refused. They had The Gift in their midst, and they refused Him.

Jesus wanted to spare them the consequences of their sin. He offered a solution. He offered hope."If you had known, even you,especially in this your day, the things that make for your peace!! But now they are hidden from your eyes. For the days will come when your enemies will build an embankment around you, surround you and close you in on every side and level you and your children to the ground; and they will not leave in you one stone upon another, because you did not know the time of your visitation." Luke 19: 41-44 Jerusalem had The Gift right there in their midst! They had The Gift within their grasp. They had the solution that would bring them peace, that would protect them from harm, that would be their very all and all. Yet they did not know the time of their visitation. They did not know the exquisite treasure that stood before them. This man of sorrows—stricken, smitten, bruised for my iniquities, was in the world, the world was made by Him, and the world knew Him not.

This man feels my pain. This man dries my tears. This is the man who sets me on his knee—not the jolly elf in a red suit—and tells me so sweetly, “My child, what is it you want this Christmas? All that I have is yours. All that I am, I give. I would not have you suffering. Let me take it from you. Let me give you something greater. Experience my joy, my child. Experience my peace. This is my gift. I offer them with my love to you, my daughter.”

I know that I am not alone in my loss this year. Many of you are facing a first Christmas without a loved one. Unwrap the Gift of Christ this year. Let His love enfold you. Let Him pull you beneath His wings and comfort you as only He can. Let the beauty of His holiness fill you with light and love.If your loved one accepted His gift, there is no sorrow where they have gone. They are forever in His presence—no longer awaiting His visitation, but basking in it. For this reason, I can rejoice. Merry Christmas Granny! Merry Christmas Billy! Merry Christmas Aunt Willie! Merry Christmas Tommy Hinson! Merry Christmas Roy Vestal! And all of the others we’ve lost this year. Heaven is real, and it awaits for those who believe. Believe it with all your heart. Believe it when the tears come. Believe it when the sorrow threatens. Believe it when it seems there is nothing left to believe in. I dare you. Just *~BELIEVE~*

Vintage Christmas Gift Wrap for 2011

2011-11-28T11:17:00.000-06:00

Vintage Christmas Gift Wrap for 2011

My Gift

2011-11-18T08:02:00.001-06:00

Twelve years ago on Nov. 18th, I lay in a hospital bed with a fetal monitor strapped to my belly, an IV in my arm pushing Pitocin, a blood pressure cuff strapped to my other arm, and a nurse saying, "Poop a watermelon." I know, I know that part sounds hilarious now. But all I could think of at that moment was if giving birth was like pooping, I was severely constipated.

After 14 hours of labor, 6 hours of that pushing and straining to get my "watermelon" out, the kind doctor suggested forceps. I was adamently opposed. I did not want my poor baby's face to be all smashed and bruised. But the doctor won out. And still, my "watermelon" refused to budge. He tried the suction thingie with no better results.

Finally, in desperation I screamed. "Get him out, now!" which seemed to garner much better results. Within twenty minutes I was prepped and in surgery. Within 15 more minutes, my bundle of joy had arrived. He was no watermelon. He was my gorgeous 8 lb. 2 oz. baby boy. I got to kiss his little forehead before they put me out to staple me up. My husband got to carry him to the nursery and give him his first bottle. To this day when his dad and I argue, guess who is on his side? That's right. My baby bonded first with his Daddy. The one with the formula always wins.

Later on after arriving home I finally got to review the video. I got to see the parts I missed while I was in the Twilight Zone. There never was a Papa more proud. And that child sucked down 2 oz. before you could blink an eye. Yep, no doubt about who is father and mother are.

I got to see everyone's reaction on the tape. I'm still a little jealous that everyone was gone by the time I got to my room at 10:30 that night. But I'm so glad someone had the forethought to tape it. My grandmother held my tiny son in her arms. She looked at him so sweetly. And she prayed over this blessed new life.
My husbands' family took turns burping and cradling. My sister sucked the mucus out of his mouth with a bulb like a pro. And finally, my mom got to hold him. She had been ever so patient, knowing she would be at the hospital when everyone else had left. I never will forget how proud she was. She had waited a long time to become a grandma. Both my sisters had been married 9 years and produced no offspring. I felt justified that this was payback for both of them marrying the same year, leaving me at home and single. There is a God. Laugh.

When I got back to my room, they let me hold him. I never knew what joy a baby could bring. True, I felt like I had been through combat. My body was bruised and sore and exhausted. All I wanted to do was sleep for hours on end--and watch this little bundle of joy. I would keep waking up and saying, "Ain't he pretty, Mama."

He had the most beautiful head of hair. That was the biggest surprise. Was it worth all that laboring and pain and nine months of throwing up, losing 40 lbs, having 27 staples, and breaking out from the anesthesia? You bet it was.

You know what? Even though 12 years have passed and my beautiful boy is now in 6th Grade, I feel as if I were back in that room, marvelling at God's blessed creation all over again. It's his birthday today. But I got the best gift. Happy Birthday, Son. May God Bless your life in countless ways. I love you with all my heart.

Newly Single, Now What?

2011-10-15T17:39:00.001-05:00

Please visit my newest place to write and check out the pages there. Thanks.

http://wizzley.com/newly-single-now-what/

Unbroken

2011-10-09T10:54:00.001-05:00

unbroken [ʌnˈbrəʊkən]

adj

1. complete or whole

2. continuous or incessant

3. undaunted in spirit

4. (Life Sciences & Allied Applications / Zoology) (Individual Sports & Recreations / Horse Training, Riding & Manège) (of animals, esp horses) not tamed; wild

5. not disturbed or upset the unbroken silence of the afternoon

6. (General Sporting Terms) (of a record, esp at sport) not improved upon

7. (Law) (of a contract, law, etc.) not broken or infringed

God's promises to me remain unbroken. His record unbeatable, undeniably unbroken. His hedge of protection around me--unbroken. His crazy love for me--wildly unbroken, free, unrestrained. He is omniscient, omnipresent, and forever. His reign unbroken. His Spirit cannot be dampened or damaged--undaunted. It is continuous, incessant, unrelenting, all-powerful. He has the power to mend whatever the world has broken in you. Let Him into your heart to begin the healing. It matters not how many pieces--how crushed, how bruised, how twisted out of shape your life may have become. God has the power to remake, remold, and renew. He can take what you have and meet you where you are and begin the process of making you whole. Reach out, reach up. With all that is within you find hope. Find health for your soul. He wants you to be unbroken--whole in body, mind, and spirit--and wholly His. When you feel infringed upon, disturbed, or upset--take it to God, the author and finisher of our faith.

Pro Life--It's a Choice

2011-09-12T17:16:00.000-05:00

Are you having a hard time letting someone go? I have discovered that it is a process--not something you tuck into bed, turn the light off and close the door on all in one night and in one big breath. Letting go is a process over time--weeks, months, and sometimes years.

Many times we hang onto the pain because we feel, erroneously, that it's all we have left. A memory. A picture. A scrapbook. All such seemingly small treasures compared to such a big love, right? Yes, I know. I have my own treasure trove I tend. I wore my wedding rings for months after the divorce. I kept family pictures out. I looked at the vacation videos and the wedding video many, many times over the span of two years. I talked and cried and talked and cried with all who would listen, until they grew weary and sickened of me. "Why are you still grieving?" they would ask. "Isn't this what you wanted?" My standard answer being, "No. It's definitely NOT what I wanted. But it's what I had to do." This was a different kind of grieving than what I faced when my parents died. This was altogether a new kind of grief. The man still lived. I still had to face him every two weeks or so. The wound just would not close. Unlike death, which made the choice for me, I had to choose to let this one go on my own. And he just wasn't going gently into the dark night. Everything in me was raging against it...until I chose something different for my life.

I distinctly remember sitting at Pizza Hut with my son and finding out in a phone call from my ex that he had remarried--one year and three weeks after our divorce was finalized. Things seemed to be going well. I was in the process of moving into a nicer home in a better neighborhood and getting my son into a better school. (I was very blessed to have had the landlords I had, but I am country girl at heart and wanted my son off the city streets.) I had gotten my credit score back to where I could get a car with the help of Obama's Cash for Clunkers program. I had not one job, but two full time jobs and one as needed job typing for my friend, Diane, with The Prodigal Hope Network. Blessings were all around me. And yet, at the moment I got this news, my whole world fell completely apart. It was like starting back at square one. Plus, I had new things to deal with--a growing resentment, a bitterness that began eating me alive. I have never in my life felt so rejected, unloved, and hurt as I did in that moment. It was a kick that took every bit of breath from me. The poor waitress to this day remembers me and my struggle to keep it together. It was a feeling that carried over for months as I struggled through tears to work, to take care of my son, to play the piano at church--just to function. Until I chose something different for my life.

Six months later I found myself sitting in a counselor's office discussing the difficulties of single parenting and the logistics of supervised visits for my son's father and my son's new step-mother. At least that was the premise of my initial visits. As it turns out, I had a problem letting go. I had a problem not only letting go, but of trusting God for my life, my child, and my healing. Time after time, the counselor would present a set of guidelines and choices and then leave me to decide and make them until the next visit rolled around. Slowly but surely I began to see the value in putting this black cloud behind me and moving on. Eventually I began to get the message that yes, indeed, there is life after divorce. And a great one at that. I began to focus more on the future than the past. Looking to the future meant cleaning out and making room. It didn't mean I had to throw the treasure trove away, but I had to downscale it to make room for MORE as I chose something different for my life.

What did I choose, you ask? I chose life. The bitterness, sadness, anger, and grief were killing me. They were killing my spirit, my will, my drive. I found myself turning into the part of me I left behind. This was not honoring God. This was an ungrateful heart. Ungrateful for the grace and mercy He had shown me through it all. My choosing to shut down was a slap in the face of the One who was giving me my very breath. Each day wasted crying and feeling sorry for myself was an opportunity missed to bless someone. On my bad days, I have to return to this scripture and remind myself: I choose something different for my life.

"This day I call heaven and earth as witnesses against you that I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Now choose life, so that you and your children may live." Deuteronomy 30:19

I hope this has helped you in some small way today. Be blessed. Choose life. Source: Jackofalltrade Amen and Amen.

Dealing with the Dross

2011-08-25T21:58:00.003-05:00

Dross (According to Merriam Webster
1. the scum that forms on the surface of molten metal
2. waste or foreign matter : impurity
3. something that is base, trivial, or inferior.photo by brotherthedog

What happens when we face fiery trials as people of God? Of course after being under pressure for a long period of time, the liquid in the pot begins to boil. What rises to the top is deemed "dross," "scum," or "waste." These impurities are then skimmed off in order to achieve a pure product. What happens if you don't deal with the dross? You have a weakened product.

Lately, the Lord has brought a lot of impurities to the surface requiring action. Often they come to my attention from something I've read in scripture or heard in a sermon. Sometimes He uses our faithful friends to prod us, and sometimes it is our enemy that puts the squeeze on. What is important is not that these inferior traits come to the surface, but that they are duly dealt with and removed.

The best way I have come to deal with the dross is to get it out in the open under the light and see it for what it really is. When the waters really get to bubbling, other things may start churning around that you find helpful to hang on to and add to. But more often than not, what surfaces is something He wants me to address, a weight that so easily besets me. Pray that as these things come to light in me that I will let Him take them, so I can become stronger in Him. This is my hope and prayer.

In Memoriam: Nancy McCoy Robinson(05/23/40--08-08-01)

2011-08-07T14:36:00.005-05:00

Just Because

Mama's Triumph

MERRY CHRISTMAS MAMA
By: Cynthia Green
08-21-01

This play is dedicated to the memory of Nancy Ann Robinson, beloved Mother and grandmother,to my sisters, Carla and Kerry,and to any of you who have lost a dear mother.

Act I: Christmas 2000---Grandma sharing the Christmas story with the kids.

Act II: Spring 2001—Grandma sharing Easter with the kids

Act III: Summer 2001—Grandma sharing Independence Day with family

Act IV: Christmas 2001—Grandma sharing Christmas with Jesus.

Curtains open . Grandma seated in recliner. Children at her feet. One in her lap. Parents all around. She is visiting with them. There are open presents lying everywhere.

Grandma: Thank you children for the wonderful presents. I’ve never seen so many in all my life. You shouldn’t have spent so much. When I was a kid, all we got for Christmas was a couple of oranges, some nuts, and maybe some hard candy.

Nathan: Aw Nanny you’re worth it. Besides it was fun to see the look on your face when you opened Mom and Daddy’s present

Grandma: Oh it was a grand surprise wasn’t it. (Holds up the box with the pacifier . Takes it out.) It will be nice to have another little miracle running around.

Carol: I hope it’s another girl. I’m tired of all these mean brothers.

Edward: What’s the matter Carol, can’t handle a little teasing every now and then?
( throws paper at her-- Carol shrieks, jumps up and lunges at Edward)

Nathan: Yeah, we want another boy so we can really gang up on you.. .(sticks a bow in Carol’s hair.)
Grace: Kids! This is Christmas!
Bobby: Settle Down!
Grandma: Oh they’re just having their fun. Come gather round close. It’s time for the Christmas story.

Grandma opens Bible . Grandma puts on her glasses. And begins to read from Luke 2.

Nathan interrupts right after grandma reads “because there was no room for them in the inn”:
Nathan: “Nanny, why were they so mean to Mary and Joseph. Why wouldn’t they let them in?
Grandma: Because they could not find room for them. The inn was very crowded already. Maybe they thought he was just another baby. But if they had found room in their hearts instead of letting everything else crowd in, they would have known that this baby was Jesus, the promised Savior of the World.

Picks up with the reading.

Carol: What a wonderful story Nanny. I love this part of Christmas. I’m so glad you read it to us.
Grandma: No matter what kids, don’t ever forget the Miracle of Christmas – don’t let anything or anyone crowd out the true meaning. It’s not in these gifts. It’s not in the lights, or the parties or the food. It’s all about this: ( holds up the pacifier)
Edward: A pacifier?
Grandma: This will help you remember…The very special birth of our Lord and Savior. Jesus Christ. That is the precious meaning of Christmas.

Curtains close.

Act II

Curtains open:

Edward and Carol are gathered round the table where they are coloring eggs.

Edward: This is silly. I can’t believe we’re actually coloring Easter eggs for a silly old Easter Bunny—all so silly little kids at the church can hunt them.

Carol: Edward! You know that those children have looked forward to this for weeks. I can’t believe you’re so selfish.

Edward: --I can’t believe you’re so goody goody either. What did I do to deserve Mother Theresa for a sister?

Carol: Oh you make me so mad! You’re going to have to straighten up and be a good big brother. We’ve got another brother or sister on the way and Mom doesn’t need any more trouble out of you.

Edward: Yeah, yeah. What did we need with another squall box in this house anyway. I’d rather had a St. Bernard.

Grandma enters: Edward McCleary !! You stop that bickering right now. I’ve got a lot to get done before tomorrow and it won’t get done with you younguns arguing and fussing. How are those eggs coming along

Carol: Well mine look pretty good, but Edward cracked two of his by not paying attention to what he was doing.

Edward mocks Carol behind her back.

Grandma: Edward. Did you know that Easter eggs were started as a celebration of new life. To celebrate the resurrection of Christ from the grave?

Ed: Really? With a look of disbelief

Grandma: Yes…a lot of the Easter traditions in the United States began a long time ago. Egg hunts and egg rolling contests came from Slavic traditions. They are still held on the White House Lawn here in America. This custom is symbolic of the rolling away of the stone from Christ’s grave. The Slavs painted eggs and gave them as gifts. The Greeks would tap red colored eggs together as a greeting. One person would greet another with “Christ is risen,” and the other would reply, “Truly, He is risen.”
Ed: Wow. But why do we have to wear those stuffy outfits?
Grandma: Constantine the Great started Easter parades and ordered that the court wear their finest garments in honor of this day—the day Christ arose from the grave.
Ed: What a history lesson Nanny

Carol: See , it’s not just a silly old tradition after all. Aren’t you ashamed.

Ed: (*mocking ) Aren’t you ashamed. Shaking head.

Grandma: Listen, I’ve got to get dinner finished, and then help your Mama iron all those Easter outfits. You children get to your rooms and clean them up. We may have company.

Ed: Oh alright. But I’m sure Carol’s is so clean already you could eat off the floor.
Carol: Can’t say the same for yours that’s for sure. You’re a pig.

Ed: AM not
Carol Are too
ED and Carol exit arguing.

Grandma is straightening up the table as a very pregnant mom, Grace enters

Grace: Whew the smell of that dye is making me more nauseous than ever. I’ve got to sit down.

Grandma: Oh I remember when I was pregnant with you Grace, I was sick every day that rolled. But hold on honey , come summer it will all be behind you.

Grace: I know Mama. I just wasn’t that sick with the others.
Thank you for helping with them so much. I don’t know what I would have done without you.

Grandma: Oh you would have made it. We Bakers are a tough bunch. We’ve been through a lot down through the years. I remember when we first got saved. The church was trying to raise money for a new tabernacle. Why, I’ve made many a batch of peanut brittle and sewed many a shirt and dress out of flour sacks. Did you know the women of that little church down there, me and Mrs. Green, Mrs. Brown, and Mrs. Smith all had a part in staining the woodwork? It gives you a great sense of accomplishment to help in building the kingdom. Why, we rode to church on the back of a truck most Sundays…talk about bad hair days. That was way back when. I met your Daddy at that church. He used to bring me gum. We were just kids back then. I miss him so. Pauses as if in deep remembrance. Suddenly puts her hands to her head as if a stabbing pain has struck.
Grace: I know Mama, it seems like only yesterday he was with us. Answers without looking up, but then notices Grandma holding her head. Mama are you alright?
Grandma: Oh it’s nothing dear, just a little headache, just a little tired that’s all.

Grace: Here you’ve been working so hard to take care of me, you haven’t been taking care of yourself. Sit down Mama, Please.

Grandma:sits down at the table Yes, I’ve tried to instill in you and your sisters everything you need to make it in this life. Things haven’t always been easy, you know that. But God’s grace is sufficient. He will see you through. I’ve gotten through so much with His help. Losing your father was the biggest heartache of my life. But God helped me. And He will be there for you too.
Grace: ( hugs Grandma )I hope you’re around to see this little one grown and with kids. I love you Mama.

Curtain closes.

ACT III

Fourth of July

Lower Stage is set with plants and Ficus trees. Picnic table is spread out door grill is nearby.
Bobby and the four children enter with lawn chairs and begin setting them up. Grace enters with the baby in a carrier. Grandma is in a wheelchair under one of the trees.

Bobby: quietly and to Grace: I can’t believe we’re going through with this this year. Your mom is so sick. It’s really too much for her.

Grace: Shhh don’t let her hear you. She wouldn’t have it any other way. This is the highlight of her year. And besides, you know she wanted to see the baby.

Grandma from the chair: Come on over here and join the party. Let me see that newest McCleary.
Grace places the child in front of Grandma
Grandma: Oh he looks just like you Bobby. Ears and all.
Bobby: Yes, I guess so. A lot of people say he looks like he was slapped right off my face… (laughing.)
Grace: Well, that’s not too terrible a thing is it. Now honey, there’s a lot to do, why don’t you go fire up the grill. I’ll get the kids to help with everything else.
Bobby: Best Burgers in town coming up in a jiffy.
Bobby moves to left stage and begins pouring charcoal into the grill.
Carol rushes in out of breath.
Mom! Mom! Eddie let Nathan get the fireworks and…
Loud firecrackers pop offstage.
Grace: Oh no!
Edward and Nathan come in, Nathan is covered in soot, face and shirt, his hands behind his back. Grace and Bobby go to meet them away from Grandma’s ears.

Nathan: Aw Man, wasn’t that great.
Edward: No!. I told you you shouldn’t have put them there. Now we’re in big trouble
Nathan: shhhh
Grace rushes over to Nathan checking his face, hugging him
Grace: Oh Nathan , my baby, are you ok. Did you hurt yourself. Let me see your hands.
Nathan: hands still behind his back. I’m fine Mom. But there’s good news and bad news.
Grace: (sternly) What have you done this time?
Nathan: Well, the good news is the mailman doesn’t run on holidays. And the bad news is…
Slowly takes one hand out from behind his back to reveal the flag from the mailbox
This is all that’s left of Nanny’s mailbox… … and….
Edward: Tell her the rest
Nathan: and…
Edward: Tell her. Tell her about Tabby
Grace: What ABOUT Tabby?
Nathan: well, uh… well…slowly pulls out the other hand revealing a cat collar. As far as we can tell this is all that’s left of her.
Grace is horrified: Well, maybe she just ran away. Looks over her shoulder at Grandma. Now you two run along and look for her. And try not to get into any more trouble. Your Nanny isn’t feeling all that well.
Nathan and Edward: Ok. Mom. We’re sorry.
Grace: And you should be. Now scoot.

Grace walks over to Grandma, puts a hand on her shoulder.
Grace: Mom you look so pale, why don’t you go in the house.
Grandma: I’m O.K. Don’t worry about me. I love this time of year. I love having all my family running around playing in the yard. You know this place has so many special memories. Your Dad and I worked hard to make this a home for you girls. I want you to take care of it after I’m gone. Don’t forget to water my plants. The kids can help with that. And I’m sure Bobby can put a garden in. You ‘ll have lots of hands to help with the tomato juicing.

Grace: Oh Mom, stop talking like that. You know the doctors are doing all they can do. You’ve got to have faith in them. You’ve got to stop thinking about leaving us.

Grandma: Honey, you know I would love to live to see your children grow up. You know I would love to have more special memories, more Christmases and fourth of July’s. Traditions like these are so important, because they help you remember. They make you appreciate the good times. Don’t let them go by the wayside. Keep the family together. As far as I’m concerned, we must pray for the best and prepare for the worst. None of us are promised tomorrow. My trust is in the Great Physician , Jesus Christ. My life is in His hands. And should He not choose to heal me in this life, I will receive my healing on the other side.
You’ve got to trust that He knows best.

Grace is crying now.
Grace: But who will be my children’s grandma—who will I call when little John gets sick—who will I call when Nathan or Edward need costumes for school plays, and Carol wants to learn to quilt. Oh Mama. I can’t bear this. I can’t bear the thought of life without you.

Nathan runs in: Mama why are you crying?
Grandma: Your mom will be ok. Nathan. She is just sad right now.
Nathan hugs Grace
Nathan: I know why you’re sad Mama. But don’t cry. Nanny told me all about the place she’s going soon. It’s a happy place. And Nanny won’t hurt anymore. Please don’t cry Mama. Jesus will be there.

Grandma: Indeed Child, Jesus will be there. And He will be here for you too. Don’t forget to make room in your heart for Him.

Curtains close.
Act IV

Curtains open. Christmas time again. About a week before.

Carol and Edward are taking pictures off the wall and putting them in a box—taking time to wrap in newspaper.

Grace and Bobby are sitting on the couch looking through albums of pictures.

Nathan is entertaining the baby who is in a swing or carrier.
A huge cat is resting in the floor near the couch. (a stuffed animal will do)

Grace: I just can’t believe she’s gone. It’s still just like a dream
Bobby: I know. I know. Puts arm around Grace. Seems like yesterday we were getting married and she was telling me how spoiled rotten you were and how I’d have to take good care of you.
Grace: laughs a little through the tears…yes I guess so. I was spoiled to having her around. She was so much help with the kids.
She taught us so much.

Bobby: She was a wonderful woman. You should be proud to have the heritage you have. My parents never attended church or believed in Christ. I never knew the joy of loving and serving him until I came into this family. She taught me a lot.
She always loved me in spite of the things I did in my lost condition. If ever there was a witness of Christ’s love for us, she was it.
( a knock on the door)
Nathan runs to get it.
Nathan: Who are you?
Dr. Chambers: Hello son. I am Dr. Chambers. Are your parents in?
Nathan: Sure. Just a minute. Yells:DADDDDDD SOMEONE named Dr. Chambers is at the door. (walking away he mutters ) I sure hope he’s not here to tell us we’re getting another brother or sister. Pause for audience laughter
Bobby goes to door;
Bobby: Sorry about that. Do come in Dr. Chambers. What brings you out in a night like this?

Dr. Chambers: Oh that’s ok. I know how kids are these days. Mr and mrs McCleary just wanted to extend my sympathy to you all during this time of your loss. Mrs. McCleary-your mother was a great inspiration to all of us at the clinic. I admired her efforts, her attitude and of course we will never forget her wonderful smile.

Grace: Yes, she was wonderful.
Dr. Chambers: I just want you all to know that she ministered to us as well. She never failed to tell us of the blessings God had given her—especially those of her family. She loved you all dearly. I appreciated how you all supported her during her illness.
Bobby: Thank you so much for coming by. Won’t you stay for awhile and get warm.
Dr. Chambers: No, I must be on my way. Patients need me. Have a nice Christmas.
Grace: Goodbye and Thank you again.
Dr . Chambers leaves.

Bobby: as he shuts the door stops, sees someone coming up the walk.
Bobby: Looks like we have more company. Edward and Carol isn’t this one of your friends?
Edward looks out the door. Sees it’s Millie a girl he has a crush on.
Carol: Oh yeah. Looks at Edward. It’s Millie, Edward’s girlfriend.
Edward: Is not
Carol Is too
Edward Is not
Bobby: Shhhhhhh she’s coming up the walk. Come on in Millie.
Millie enters carrying a card.
Millie: Hello Mr. McCleary I just came by for a minute to drop something off. Hi Carol. Hello Eddie…
Eddie Blushes—shyly—uhhh hi. Let me help you with your coat.
Millie: Thank you Eddie. You’re such a sweetie.
Carol: You don’t have to live with him.
Eddie: Shut up Carol.
Millie: Well, I think he’s sweet.
Anyway, I came over to give you all this card. It’s from the Gideons. Our Sunday school class took up money to buy Bibles in memory of your Grandmother, Ms. Alice. We collected enough to buy 10. Ms. Alice was the best Sunday School teacher I ever had. I will never forget her and the lessons she taught us. She taught me the way of Salvation. I got saved in class one Sunday. Thanks to her.
Grace: That is so precious Millie. Thank you for sharing that with us. Please thank the class for us.
Millie: I will. Well, I have to run. Eddie, I ‘ve got you a present if you’re coming to the program Friday night.
Carol: Oh he will be there.
Edward:--puts hand over Carols’ mouth.
See you there Millie (helps Millie with coat)Bye
Millie exits.
Grace: My my my…I wasn’t expecting all this, but it sure helps.
Mother was loved by many wasn’t she.
Bobby: She certainly was. There had to be three hundred people at the visitation last night—a lot of them I’d never met. But all of them spoke so highly of your mother.
Grace: breaks down sobbing…Oh Bobby…I just wanted her around her a little longer. Christmas just isn’t Christmas without her. How can I celebrate and be happy with Mama gone? This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening.

Another knock
Nathan jumps up, but Bobby stops him.
Bobby: I’ll get it son.
Bobby opens door to find several ladies.
Bobby: Well, hello ladies do come in.
Ladies enter. Loaded with food
Mrs. Smith: We hope you don’t mind the intrusion. We thought you could use some cheer.
Mrs. Green: And we know you have had lots of company and relatives from out of town, so we prepared some food for you all.
Mrs. Brown: I was so sorry to hear about your mother Grace. She was a precious neighbor. She visited me when I had my gall bladder surgery a couple of years ago. You know it hit me like a ton of bricks, the doctors said it got inflamed and almost burst and the pain. Oh it was terrible. I had just gotten back from Macy’s, they had this big sale and I told Henry I was going to get me a new dress…

Mrs. Smith interrupts.. now Mattie, we haven’t time for all the details, cut to the chase.

Mrs. Brown: Well, as I was saying, it really hit me hard, and I was laid up for several weeks, that was before all this laser surgery. They cut me from here to here (gestures).

Mrs. Smith-Mattie!!

Mrs. Brown: Well, the point is your mother came and sat with me and read the Bible to me every day. She was such a comfort. Such a comfort. I will never forget that as long as I live.

Mrs. Green: Yes, she was so good to us. She babysat for my daughter when she had to go back to work. Gail never had to worry about her kids when they were with Alice. Oh Alice loved those babies. Yes she will be dearly missed.
(wipes her eyes)
Mrs. Brown grabs Grace in a big hug: Now we’ve got to run sugar. But take comfort in knowing your Mama is spending her first Christmas with Jesus. Bye Bye all.

Bobby closes the door behind them.
Takes Grace in his arms.
Bobby: What a wonderful thought. Her first Christmas with Jesus.
Grace: Yes, Mama’s first Christmas with Jesus.
Walks over to the coffee table picks up a framed picture of Grandma. Looks at it for a few seconds A voice is heard overhead. As Grandma speaks, the cast freezes. Grace is frozen looking at her mom's picture. Her husband with his arm around her. The kids in various poses frozen.
Grandma: Oh Grace, you should see how beautiful heaven is. The table is set so beautifully with silver and gold goblets and plates, fine white linen...sparkling columns and flowers and colors unimaginable. You've never heard the likes of the music here Grace. And we all sing. Everyone's voice is beautiful here. Everything is pure and holy and bright. There is no pain here Grace. There are no crippling diseases, no hunger, no sorrow. Our loved ones are here, Grace. It's one big reunion. And the best part, oh the very best part is Jesus. I finally got to thank Him in person. He wants me to tell you to not be sad Gracie. And not to let the traditions go by the wayside . Keep the family together, and remember to make room in your heart for Him because He's waiting for you—we're waiting for you. We love you. Merry Christmas my child.
The ice is broken. Grace wipes away the tears and looks up. Slowly a smile comes upon her face and a look of sweet peace.

Grace: Merry Christmas Mama. Merry Christmas.
Curtain closes

THE END

Characters:
Nanny—the Grandmother, Alice Baker
Bobby McCleary—the husband
Grace McCleary—the mother
Nathan
Edward
Carol
Little Baby John
Millie—neighbor girl who Edward has crush on

Dr. Chambers—Grandma's Cancer doctor.
Mrs. Smith—church ladies
Mrs. Green—church ladies
Mrs. Brown—church ladies
Tabby the cat

Grab onto It and Don't Forget it it!

2011-07-16T00:22:00.002-05:00

PRAISE THE LORD LYRICS
When you're up against a struggle
That shatters all your dreams
And your hope's been cruelly crushed
By Satan's manifested scheme
And you feel the urge within you
To submit to earthly fears
Don't let the faith your standing in
Seem to disappear

CHORUS:

Praise the Lord
He can work through those who praise Him
Praise the Lord
For our God inhabits praise
Praise the Lord
For the chains that seem to bind you
Serve only to remind you
That they drop powerless behind you
When you praise Him

Now Satan is a liar
And he wants to make us think
That we are paupers
When he knows himself
We're children of the King
So lift up the mighty shield of faith
For the battle must be won
We know that Jesus Christ is risen
So the works already done

CHORUS

LyricsBay | PRAISE THE LORD LYRICS THE IMPERIALS

Stinky Feet or Stinkin' Pride?

2011-07-03T21:55:00.005-05:00

Pastor Clay Hallmark at First Baptist Church in Marion, Arkansas is in the middle of his Summer of Love series. This morning's scriptures came from John 13, a well-known passage for us pentecostals, where Jesus takes on the role of a servant and washes the disciples feet. Yes, even the disciple who betrayed him. Jesus did not suffer from entitlement issues. The King of all the earth knelt and washed the grime from their feet and felt it an honor and privilege to do so. He gave them a new commandment...to love one another, and by doing so, the world would know they were Christians by the love they showed each other.

Bro. Clay made the point that yes, it is sometimes difficult to love/serve/minister to your enemy--or the one who has betrayed you, hurt you, or done you wrong. Some people are hard to love. I wonder sometimes if we focus more on our enemy's dirt than our need to forgive them. Was Jesus overly concerned about their dirty feet? Or was it more the fact that it was something Jesus NEEDED to do.

Jesus knew what He was about to face. He knew who was about to betray him. He knew who were about to fall asleep at His greatest hour of need for them. Not only was this an act of love and servitude, but this was an act of humility. And an act of grace. This act speaks of "I forgive you--not only for your past sins, but for future sins. I forgive you, not only for where you have been, but for where you are about to go." You see, Judas was leaving the hall with clean feet...yet he was going to betray Christ. Some may say, but that was the plan. Judas was all part of the plan. But, my friend, Jesus is not willing that any should perish. Had Judas accepted the grace Jesus extended--had he been willing to repent--I believe Judas would not have perished. He was included in the twelve. His feet were washed just the same. But he left that hall and turned his back on that grace--and that was his damning act.

Jesus knew their time was short together. How He must have wept in the garden for what they would face. He wept in the garden because He felt their sin. He felt the effects of their sin. He was about to take all that upon Himself--face the cross and separation from God (though brief, how horrendous). I believe He truly could feel the pain of their future suffering. I believe He knew what despair Judas would feel after the deed was done...and He grieved. How He must have grieved for that lost one. Did He pray for Judas' soul in the garden? Was this part of the great agony He endured...knowing that one of His followers--one of His own would be forever lost. Even after the deed was done, Judas could still have accepted grace and pardon...Peter did. Peter and Judas both went out from Jesus' presence. Peter wept bitterly and repented. Judas went out and hanged himself. How different could Judas' life have been had he truly believed the words of Christ. It was a dark, dark day for the disciples...but thanks be to God, on the third day--it was like an explosion of glorious light.

When one gets a glimpse of God and His love for us, it is like Hope bursting out from the darkness and showering down in radiant beauty. It just takes the breath away--the extent He went to to ensure our future with Him. He came not to be ministered unto, but to minister. If we have that love, His love, within us, then we can truly humble ourselves and be forgiving of our enemy.

We can love that unlovable one. We can take the hurt and turn it around...turn it into an opportunity to mend fences, build bridges, tear down walls--whatever metaphor you want to use. I have been at the place in my life where I said, "God--I can't do this. It's too hard. I don't want to be nice. I don't want to suck it up and take it. I want them to know they hurt me. And I want to hurt back." I think that is a very normal and human response. But it is not the Christian response. God has a better plan. It is so much better for my soul when I can find the high road. Sometimes I can, and sometimes I fail. But when I fail, I run to Him and say, "God help me. Help me be who you want me to be. I don't want to be this way. I want to be a Peter, not a Judas."

Wash someone's feet today (do something nice, show them love, forgiveness, respect, honor) --just because YOU need to, not because their feet are dirty. But because we are commanded to. Because we have that role model in Christ. Because it is healing to do so. Because it shows them Christ's love. Sometimes no words are needed when you are washing someone's feet. If it is done with love, they get the message that their feet are dirty. And trust me, they will feel bad about it. Whether they repent of it or not is their choice. All you can do is do as you are commanded and with the right spirit. They will know we are Christians by our love. God help me to show your love today. Help me to take the humble side. Help me forgive. So that people will know I belong to you.

In Memoriam--Carl E. Robinson (04/04/1942--10/09/1993)

2011-06-15T01:34:00.005-05:00

June 16, 1991
Father's Day

Dear Dad,
I remember when you were once young and very strong. Your blue eyes blazed brightly, and naïve as I was, I believed that nothing could ever get the best of you. Oh, you had your faults, and life was difficult at best. But nothing you ever did could erase the fact that you were family. I loved you anyway. It was this love that led me to endure the bitter pain of wrongs and hurts—and ultimately this strange sickness that has overtaken you. This love covered the sins of your past and overcame the anger I had harbored and nurtured in my heart for years as a child. I cannot now cast you aside and forget that you exist. You're not the same man you used to be—in many ways—but you'll always be my dad.

The light in your eyes has weakened considerably as you struggle to maintain its dignity. But only a few last remnants of the candle remain burning...almost, but not quite, gone. Those nearby marvel at your remaining strength, your courage, and your determination to sustain the fading glow. Yet, at that, only random moments of clarity flicker through your mind, then slowly ebb away. Recognition registers—a smile, a nod, even a twinkle now and again will linger momentarily. But then you're gone again, once more drawn helplessly back, deep into the shell of your infirmity.

Communication with you is a futile task. Speech amounts to mere noise to you; little meaning ever pervades the darkness—this cold, cruel darkness that has gripped your mind. You live and learn by visual cues, using your failing, feeble sight. And then, what then, will become of you when both your worlds are night?

Wandering through life half-drugged and dazed, you constantly travel a beaten path. Tormented by your need to stay busy—to work, to live—you make your rounds in nerveracking, repetitious cycles. Your mind is not chained by space and time; it spans both years and miles. One can never be certain which world you are in at any given time. You are a lost soul—lost in a vast wilderness of your own sad reveries and painful memories.

Your world consists only of broken chords belonging to a lost song, one you cannot quite remember the words to. There is no melody, no rhyme, no harmony or real music to speak of. Familiar sounding notes break through from time to time, and these you repeat to yourself over and over. (But only the parts you know and are sure of and secure in.) The rest lies waiting to be rescued and brought to the muddy surface at uncertain intervals where, to our amazement, it may bob awhile unsteadily, but eventually sinks to the mire once more. Your song is a jumbled jigsaw puzzle scattered across a patterned rug. Its parts are many and varied; the pieces blend all too easily with the many other images in this world into a wild, chaotic, unpleasing sound much too painful to endure.

Sadly, this man once bright, strong, and young, now old and weak and dim has become. And who, but God, in His wisdom and knowledge can say just how long your wavering flame will burn? I cannot allow it to die out shamefully neglected. You cannot die alone and scared in an unknown institution surrounded by strangers—unwashed, unkempt, and unloved. I cannot allow you to be just another patient without identity who is left to wallow in your own stench, screaming to be released and finding no comforting touch. You cannot spend your last days shunned and isolated and ignored. You cannot be left to rough, uncaring hands that fill you with sedatives to keep you immobile and pull the curtains to block out the daylight you desperately need or leave you to struggle with your meals in vain.

I cannot make you well, but I can make you comfortable and reasonably safe. I can see to it that you're clean and well fed and allowed to see the light of day. I can surround you with the life and good will of those who see beyond your past and look at you now, as you are, a weak, dependent, dying man. You need our love and our loyalty, and especially our forgiveness.
For things are much different now than then, perhaps even more difficult. The hurts have not ceased, and at times it seems unbearably hard and unfair. But we try to remember that you cannot now apologize or make amends or undo any of the past. Nothing you ever did can erase the fact that you are family. You're not the man you used to be—but you will always be my Daddy. And I love you. Happy Father's Day..
Love as always,

Your middle daughter
Cindy

Hope Waits...

2011-06-14T00:14:00.002-05:00

Whenever you are holding your breath, the time goes by much slower it seems. When you are poised for an answer--and you're not sure which answer you will get--the waiting can seem an eternity. Anxiety can run amok. The imagination can take you places so far removed from reality that you are literally held captive by fear. And if the enemy can smell your fear, he can get to you. What's that old ad campaign say? "Never let 'em see you sweat!" Don't give up. Don't give in. Don't give out. Don't let go. Whatsoever things are true, lovely, and of good report--think on these things. Bring every thought captive. Do not let yourself go there!

Many time in my 45 years I have had to capture my thoughts and redirect them. For I am one who immediately jumps to the end, tries to guess the end of the book before the story is told--BUT I have learned that I do not know everything. I am not God. And I cannot predict with any certainity what will, indeed, happen next week, tomorrow, or in the next few hours, for that matter. Let me leave you with some lyrics. I once played this for my aunt to sing back in the old sanctuary days. Isn't it wonderful how those lyrics never lose their oomph!

I know Who Holds Tomorrow

I don't know about tomorrow, I just live from day to day;
I don't borrow from it's sunshine,
For it's skies may turn to gray.
I don't worry o'er the future, For I know what Jesus said;
And today I'll walk beside Him, For He knows what lies ahead

(chorus)
Many things about tomorrow I don't seem to understand;
But I know who holds tomorrow, and I know who holds my hand

Ev'ry step is getting brighter
As the golden stairs I climb; ev'ry burden's getting lighter,
Ev'ry cloud is silver-lined.
There the sun is always shining,
There no tear will dim the eye;
At the ending of the rainbow, Where the mountains touch the sky.

Hope Quotes...

2011-06-11T00:58:00.003-05:00

I am a quote freak. If something is well said, then it is worth repeating. Here are some great quotes from the Thinkexist site.

“Through humor, you can soften some of the worst blows that life delivers. And once you find laughter, no matter how painful your situation might be, you can survive it.” Bill Cosby quotes (American Actor, Comedian and Producer. b.1937, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, USA)

“We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.”
Oscar Wilde quotes (Irish Poet, Novelist, Dramatist and Critic, 1854-1900)

“What seems to us as bitter trials are often blessings in disguise”
AzSilver Oscar Wilde quotes (Irish Poet, Novelist, Dramatist and Critic, 1854-1900)

“Perhaps they are not stars, but rather openings in heaven where the love of our lost ones pours through and shines down upon us to let us know they are happy.”Eskimo Proverb quotes

“Learn from yesterday, live for today, hope for tomorrow.” Albert Einstein quotes (German born American Physicist who developed the special and general theories of relativity. Nobel Prize for Physics in 1921. 1879-1955)

“Hope is the most exciting thing in life and if you honestly believe that love is out there, it will come. And even if it doesn't come straight away there is still that chance all through your life that it will.”
Josh Hartnett quotes

Hope Flies

2011-06-07T21:38:00.004-05:00

This picture makes me smile...the colors, the symbolism, the artistry. Butterflies are so inspiring. They enter the cocoon as lowly earthbound worms and come out as elegant floaty, heavenly creatures. What a testimony they have. rainbowella42

For three long years now, I have been in a cocoon of my own making--trying to insulate myself from getting hurt again. In my grieving process, I have withdrawn from relationships,family, and well-meaning friends at times. I admit I have turned down invitations, not answered or returned calls, and opted to spend weekends never leaving the house. I can admit to you that depression had sunk its talons in deep and was in no hurry to let go. Self-pity kept winding itself around and about me, tightening, choking, suffocating the life out of me. For three years it has been a constant battle--tooth and nail--to maintain, to keep moving, to reinvent myself as a single mother. A concept that once was foreign to me is now reality. The unfathomable is now my everyday existence.

Single mothers face battles that no one else knows about. Of course you can imagine the day-to-day challenges of getting things done and keeping a home running. Everyone has those. But only God sees the times I have cracked under pressure of an anxiety attack. Only God knows how many sleepless nights I have faced, how many prayers I have prayed, and how many times I have fought the urge to throw in the proverbial towel and head for the proverbial hills, which by the way,are 5 hours away and on the other end of the state. A trip, I admit, I cannot really even contemplate most days because the logistics are overwhelming. Yes, a 5-hour trip that some take for granted every fall leaves me bewildered at the thought of tackling it, just me and my 11-year-old. But I am beginning to feel the bands loosen--beginning to feel the hope of spreading new wings--of learning a new way of travel in this journey.

Even though I have struggled with some not-so-Christian, not-so-healthy feelings during this dormant period, there also have been times of reflection and times of listening to the quiet peaceful voice of the Spirit. I trust those are times I am being recreated and reworked for a new purpose. If I am to be wrapped up, I want it to be so wrapped up in Him that nothing from the world can penetrate the shell. I don't want it to be because I have become so entangled in my own mess so much, so that not only can I not get out on my own, but I am of no use to anyone else. I have been in both places, and if I must be still--if I must be dead, I want to be dead to the flesh, so I can emerge to abundant life. If I have to crawl as a worm to His feet in order to be made into what He wants, I will crawl. I will not run to the hills, but I will look to the hills. I just read Psalm 121. Listen to the Brooklyn Tabernacle choir sing this and bless you today. He desires to make you and I so much more than what we can ever dream. Let Him awaken you to new dreams today.

Home--What a Lovely Word

2011-06-03T21:46:00.002-05:00

From Here to There--And in Between

2011-05-31T00:03:00.006-05:00

This being a holiday weekend,the Golden Boy and I decided to head north for some friends, family, and fun. Just over the bridge at Paris Landing, there is a beautiful campground at Land Between the Lakes called Piney Campground. Our friends, the Hassells, have a camper that they pull over there for several weeks in the summer, and they were gracious enough to invite us over. We spent the last 48 hours swimming, boating, grilling, and listening to open air concerts by the likes of Parisian, Dan Knowles and also a band called Critical Condition. We had a much needed break from the real world and celebrated the Golden Boy's graduation to Middle School. My favorite part? Boat ride at sunset over to Cypress Bay Restaurant for a little grilled Mahi Mahi and fellowship.

Eating out on the weekend is nothing new for us, but it is rare that we get to travel by boat at sunset, pull up and dock, and enjoy fabulous food with a gorgeous view. The Golden Boy enjoyed feeding the turtles and watching them dive. And I simply enjoyed living in the moment for a change. I discovered that I prefer to sit at the front of the boat and that I loved to see where we were headed a lot more than I enjoyed sitting at the back of the boat and facing where we had been. And in that short trip across the lake, God and I had quite the conversation, unbeknownst to anyone else. It went a little something like this:

Me: This is so nice. Why can't I have more days like this. Smooth sailing...calmer waters...better views than the four walls of my office? Why does life seem so hard most days? How is it that the people that live in these luxury waterfront homes have this paradise every day, and some of us get to view a highway with semis barrelling by?

God: My child, this view is available from the hilltop as well as the highway. It is also available from the boat and the shore. There are highs, lows, flat places, and places you just float through. But my beauty and my wonder are all around you every day. Your view is determined by your choices and where and how you choose to travel or even if you choose to travel. You could stay on the shore where it is safe--and never take a chance. But you also will never get anywhere outside of your own little comfort zone. Today you chose to travel by boat and take the scenic route. Tomorrow you might choose to travel on the busy highway or the curvy backroad. Both the river and the road will get you there, if you follow the roadmap. A person who fears or dislikes the water may find the land route more appealing. But the person raised on the lake will opt for the boat ride every time--having traveled this way over and over throughout the years and having memorized each port, each inlet, and each landmark. The captain takes great pleasure in mastering the river. He does not travel by the common way, but navigates by the signs and the stars--and reads the horizon like a well-known poem--by heart. This is the way I would choose for you, my child.

You are not the commoner. You are not chosen to travel the paths of man, nor follow their signs. I did not call you to sit on the shore and look out to the horizon with a dreamy longing. The destination is yours. You can get there by following the busy highway and the winding backroads. It might take you longer, though. And you might get lost a long the way if you're not careful. But if you would just for once forget about the water. Forget about the risks. Forget yourself and wrap yourself up in me. If you could just relax your grip for even just a little while, you would find that trusting me is good. That it is fun even. That it brings peace to your soul and a quietness to the raging fear inside. I am here, Cindy, on the boat with you. You think I don't see. You think I'm sleeping...not watching...not caring that a little wave has come or a little cloud has blown up...I call them "little," my child, because in My hands, they are mere annoyances...little bumps in the road, trifles. I wave them away with a movement of my hand and three words. "Peace. Be. Still." Do not forget who is in control here. And it is not you, my dear. It is I. I love you. I have joy prepared for you. I have everything you long for, everything you seek, everything you need. Right here. The journey can be as hard or as easy as you make it.

There ARE joys to be had right outside your window. Stop looking at the wake you've left behind. There's nothing back there for you. You've been there. We've moved on from that. In fact, the waters are even beginning to settle and smooth back over. Soon it will be as though it never was. Do you trust me? Do you not know that I am a healing God? A creative God? An artistic God? I can paint your picture with large, broad strokes--or fine, dainty handiwork. But you have to let me take control. You have to trust me.

Finally, after what seemed like an hour of discourse (couldn't have been that long), we pulled up to the marina and docked. And I finally got a chance to get a word in edgewise. You would think I would have a lot to say about this...my being the controlling type, the one with all the answers, the one who needs to be right all the time. In charge of her own destiny...stubborn and proud. Ready with an excuse or justification...but at that moment I was just stunned. In awe of what He was saying and showing me and so humbled that he would use a little boat trip to take me from one point in life to another. "Okay God," I muttered. "Okay."

Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep

2011-05-25T00:05:00.007-05:00

Tonight she prays for victims--true victims. Victims of recent flooding and horrendous tornadoes. True, she feels victimized at times, taken advantage of,and picked on. True, sometimes she feels the weight of the world on her shoulders as she goes about her daily tasks. But she has a roof over her head that is still intact, and she has sturdy walls to keep out the wind and rain. She does not have water logged carpet or mildewed belongings. It is only the grace of God that she has these things. Not on her own merit or ability. She remembers this, and she prays.

Tonight she prays for the military protecting and serving--true heroes. Heroes of the recent wars in Afghanistan and Iraq. True, sometimes she feels war torn and ravaged. True, sometimes she feels weary from the fight. But she does not spend her nights lying in a sand foxhole. She does not dodge live rounds of fire. She does not have to write home to her loved ones. By the grace of God, they are all safe and within a half-hour's drive. She remembers this, and she prays.

Tonight she prays for the critically ill--the terminally ill. Cancer is such an evil woe. True, sometimes she has aches and pains. Sometimes her feet swell from sitting long hours. Her joints get red and inflamed, and she is tempted to complain. But for the grace of God, she does not take any medication. Her blood pressure is normal as is her sugar--an amazing thing for someone her weight. She remembers this, and she prays.

Tonight she prays for her enemy--a true hindrance. The one that brings out her worst, who pushes all her buttons, the one who withholds forgiveness. True,sometimes she wants to forget he exists. True, sometimes she thinks of vengeance. But for the grace of God, she has been able to love in spite of, to take her hurt to the throne of God, and to ask Him to bless this enemy and bring him to true repentance. She has found peace and forgiveness from Christ, the name above all names, the true lover of our souls, the husband of the widow and father of the fatherless. This, she remembers, and is humbled and grateful as she reaches for the lamp.

Amen and Amen.

One Last Thing

2011-05-20T16:11:00.010-05:00

The month of May distresses me. Mother's Day. Mom's birthday and anniversary. Now my grandmother's death on May 15th. In years past, I would literally lie in bed all day and cry. It's not that I wanted attention. I just wanted my mom back. I just wanted to be able to gather at her home for lunch like we always did. I longed for her smile, her hug, her reassurance. This year on Mother's Day, my grandmother lay dying in the hospital. In my spirit I groaned. One more reason to hate the month of May. Granny passed away this past Sunday at the age of 88. She had shared 69 years of those 88 with my grandfather. She had a full life. She worked hard, loved her children, and loved her God. What more could you ask for in life? I would never wish her back to the nursing home. She is at rest now.

I wrote her eulogy. I played "Precious Memories" and "Mansion Over the Hilltop" for her. My sister sang "Peace in the Valley," and my other sister did the reading. Granny would have been so proud. My anxiety level was high, as I do not do well with crowds and public events, much less funerals, so this was indeed a labor of love--one of the very last things I could do for her. Yet today, I am reminded and was reminded during the service by Carla, my elder sister, that we can do one more thing to honor her--and that is live a life pleasing to God as she taught us. Be faithful in service...and take everything in stride with a smile. She would not have me cry...on Mother's Day or any other day. She would not have me weep for days gone by or wish them back. Granny would have me be courageous, stiff upper lip, eyes dry--chin up and shoulders back. That's how she faced life. And let me tell you, she had her share of tragedies including losing two children in infancy, one son in adulthood, and a brother to a savage murder. If anyone had reason to cry, it would have been Lois Robinson. Out of all those years, I do remember some tears. But the smiles far outweighed them. Don't you know that not a day went by that she did not feel sorrow for her loss? Don't you know that not a Mother's Day went by that she did not grieve?

Oh I have been so self-centered in my grief. This year I went to church on Mother's Day...the first in a while. And I hugged my cousin who lost her mother tragically to a motor vehicle accident in the month of May a few years ago. She said, "Well, I made it." And I knew exactly what she meant. This year, I hugged a man who had lost his mother a month ago. No words necessary. This year, I played the organ loud and strong and with joy in my heart because I knew my mother and grandmother were in heaven and my other grandmother was soon to join them. My friend, grief is so much easier to face from heaven's point of view.

I trust that if you are having a hard time in your loss that you will find someone who shares what you have gone through and give them a hug, a smile, a word of encouragement. It brings healing. It brings hope. And it keeps the focus off ourselves, and you know what, it will make your mama proud.

A Little Good News

2011-03-15T08:52:00.006-05:00

"Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see." Hebrews 11:1.

Troubled times we live in. All one has to do is turn on the television to see the devastation. The earth is groaning--literally buckling and spewing and changing on its axis. We see widespread destruction--entire coastal villages wiped from the planet in one fell swoop of a tsunami wave,people buried in earthquake rubble or washed away as others watch and film in horror. With today's technology we can see it unfold before our eyes. Great slabs of earth shifted. Mountains of mud covering homes. Walls of water overflowing concrete barriers. The fear of nuclear meltdown. It seems unreal. You might even expect Godzilla to appear on the horizon, as if it were a bad Japanese horror film. Not so. This is real. This is happening. Today thousands upon thousands are retrieving their dead, grieving,wandering in a confused stupor with no home to return to, no family left, nothing. Not even a clean drink of water. All this we can see with our eyes, and we believe that troubled times have arrived.

How will these troubled times impact us? How will this devastation affect us thousands of miles away? They are on the other side of the world, you argue. Not your problem, you may say. Not my problem, I may say. But may I submit to you that when an event happens on this planet that literally changes the rotation of the earth on its axis--it will affect everyone. Something big has happened, is happening, with widespread implications. Life-changing implications. We cannot see the end result. Our natural minds cannot comprehend. But our spirits know that something is on the horizon. Even the earth knows and trembles.

Romans 8:22-27 (New King James Version)
22 For we know that the whole creation groans and labors with birth pangs together until now. 23 Not only that, but we also who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, even we ourselves groan within ourselves, eagerly waiting for the adoption, the redemption of our body. 24 For we were saved in this hope, but hope that is seen is not hope; for why does one still hope for what he sees? 25 But if we hope for what we do not see, we eagerly wait for it with perseverance.
26 Likewise the Spirit also helps in our weaknesses. For we do not know what we should pray for as we ought, but the Spirit Himself makes intercession for us[a] with groanings which cannot be uttered. 27 Now He who searches the hearts knows what the mind of the Spirit is, because He makes intercession for the saints according to the will of God.

The birth pangs are continuing. Yes, it even seems they are coming closer together. Change is in the air. What is it that we hope for? What is it that we cannot see and yet long for? Something big is coming. Not something, but Someone. We do not know a date or an exact time. But we know He is coming. We know what He has promised. We are instructed not to grieve as those who have no hope. He's coming back for us! And we will be with the Lord forever.

1 Thessalonians 4:18 says: "Therefore encourage each other with these words." The scripture says we "eagerly wait for it with perserverance." Eagerness. Excitement. Anticipation. "With perserverance"--endurance, steady persistence, steadfast, adhering to a course. Now is not the time to waver. Now is not the time to shrink back, to be fearful, to give in. But to press on, move forward, work while it is day. For I am certain, though my eyes have not seen Him in all His glory, I am certain that His promises are true, and He is faithful. I am certain that He has prepared a place for me.

1 John 3:1-3 says: "How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are! The reason the world does not know us is that it did not know him. Dear friends, we are children of God, and what we will be has not yet been made known. But we know that when he appears, we will be like him, for we shall see him as he is. Everyone who has this hope in him purifies himself, just as he is pure."

We are His children. We have this hope. We have this promise. We are blessed beyond measure. Share this hope with someone today. The world needs hope. The world needs what you have to share. Don't keep the Good News to yourself. The fields are white unto harvest. Time is growing short. I am certain of it.

Be Still and Know

2010-12-23T09:41:00.004-06:00

The town was bustling, the traffic overwhelming, the hotels all full. How weary she must have been. The baby kicked and rolled, restless inside her. Frustration was mounting as one by one the front desk clerks shook their heads. No vacancy. No vacancy. No vacancy. Contractions were coming closer and closer. Did she feel blessed and highy favored as Joseph led her to the stable? Was her mind reeling? "No, no...this wasn't how it was supposed to be! This is not how I envisioned it. This was not how I had planned. Surely this is not how the Hope of all the ages, the long awaited Messiah, is to come to Earth. Did a very hormonal Mary cry? Was she angry? Was she afraid? Did she have to reach for Joseph's hand as a contraction hit and say,"Joseph, do something! The baby is coming NOW!" Did Joseph comfort her as doubts filled his own mind, as the panic crept into his own heart, did he have to hold her close and say, "It's okay, Mary. It's okay."

Have there been times in your life where things did not turn out as you envisioned them? Have you cried to God,"This wasn't how it was supposed to be. This is not how I planned. Surely you did not mean for it to be this way!" Have there been times when your precious dream has had to travel a long,long way, maybe by an unpleasant mode of travel, by an unpleasant route,only to end up in a cold and lonely stable filled with muck?

Beyond her natural fears,feelings,and frustrations, though, in the still of that holy night--as the Light of the world entered a dark, cold world--Mary had to know--as she kissed that sweet little head--that the favor of God Almighty rested within her, upon her, and that everything, EVERYTHING,was going to be okay. Not that there would not be sorrow, trials,or hardship--but that somehow all of it would work for good in the great eternal scheme of things our Father had planned out of his great love for us.

So great is that love for you and me that no matter what we face today,if we hold to His hand,if we put our trust in Him, if we accept that Love into our lives as Lord and Savior--we have blessed Hope, and I'm here to tell you--I know of what I speak--I know of Whom I speak, FEAR NOT...EVERYTHING IS GOING TO BE OKAY!

My Gift

2010-11-17T09:15:00.003-06:00

Eleven years ago on Nov. 18th, I lay in a hospital bed with a fetal monitor strapped to my belly, an IV in my arm pushing Pitocin, a blood pressure cuff strapped to my other arm, and a nurse checking me saying, "Poop a watermelon." I know, I know that part sounds hilarious now. But all I could think of at that moment was if giving birth was like pooping, I was severely constipated.

After 14 hours of labor, 6 hours of that pushing and straining to get my "watermelon" out, the kind doctor suggested forceps. I was adamently opposed. I did not want my poor baby's face to be all smashed and bruised. But the doctor won out. And still, my "watermelon" refused to budge. He tried the suction thingie with no better results.

Finally, in desperation I screamed. "Get him out, now!" which seemed to garner much better results. Within twenty minutes I was prepped and in surgery. Within 15 more minutes, my bundle of joy had arrived. He was no watermelon. He was my gorgeous 8 lb. 2 oz. baby boy. I got to kiss his little forehead before they put me out to staple me up. My husband got to carry him to the nursery and give him his first bottle. To this day when his daddy and I argue, guess who is on his side? That's right. My baby bonded first with his Daddy. The one with the formula always wins.

Later on after arriving home I finally got to review the video. I got to see the parts I missed while I was in the Twilight Zone. There never was a Papa more proud. And that child sucked down 2 oz. before you could blink an eye. Yep, no doubt about who is father and mother are.

I got to see everyone's reaction on the tape. I'm still a little jealous that everyone was gone by the time I got to my room at 10:30 that night. But I'm so glad someone had the forethought to tape it. My grandmother held my tiny son in her arms. She looked at him so sweetly. And she prayed over this blessed new life.
My husbands' family took turns burping and cradling. My sister sucked the mucous out of his mouth with a bulb like a pro. And finally, my mom got to hold him. She had been ever so patient, knowing she would be at the hospital when everyone else had left. I never will forget how proud she was. She had waited a long time to become a grandma. Both my sisters had been married 9 years and produced no offspring. I felt justified that this was payback for both of them marrying the same year, leaving me at home and single. There is a God. Lol.

When I got back to my room, they let me hold him. I never knew what joy a baby could bring. True, I felt like I had been through combat. My body was bruised and sore and exhausted. All I wanted to do was sleep for hours on end--and watch this little bundle of joy. I would keep waking up and saying, "Ain't he pretty, Mama."

He had the most beautiful head of hair. That was the biggest surprise. Was it worth all that laboring and pain and nine months of throwing up, losing 40 lbs, having 27 staples, and breaking out from the anesthesia? You bet it was.

You know what? Even though 11 years have passed and my beautiful boy is now in 5th Grade, I feel as if I were back in that room, marvelling at God's blessed creation all over again. It's his birthday today. But I got the best gift. Happy Birthday, Son. May God Bless your life in countless ways. I love you with all my heart.

Beauty From Ashes

2010-11-07T06:36:00.003-06:00

Don't give up! He has not brought you this far to leave you. He will never leave you. No matter what the pain,what the problem, what the need. He is there. He is the answer. He is the hope you are seeking. The light at the end of the tunnel, the knot at the end of the rope, the joy that comes in the morning after the long storm ends. He is the shelter during the storm. He is the refreshing, cleansing, purifying rain. He will restore your soul. But you have to trust. You have to give it to Him. It is okay to grieve lost chances, lost loves, lost lives. He is acquainted with sorrow. He knows all about it. Cry out to Him. He is not at a loss. He is not embarrassed by your tears nor uncomfortable with your grief. There is nothing you can say to Him that He cannot handle. Cry. It is okay to cry. Your tears are precious to Him. He bottles them up. A tear is proof that you are human, capable of feeling. And capable of loving. When you are ready to let go of the pain, He will be there to take it and make something beautiful from it. That's what He does. That's who He is. Let Him.

To Be Held--

2010-08-27T09:02:00.002-05:00

There is no fear of anything the future holds when you have the assurance that you are in God's hands. How big is God? Big enough to hold the universe in His hands--to control the times and seasons--to count the hairs on our heads and save each of our tears in bottles. How big is God? Big enough to take on the hurts of every person who ever lived or will live and heal them with stripes on His back. He is big enough to shake heaven and earth for you, and He loves you enough to do so. You are His creation, His child, His image. Worth more than many sparrows, more than the cattle on a thousand hills or the gold beneath them. You are precious in his sight and loved beyond measure.

To be held is to find that strength amid the circumstance, to find that comfort in your sorrow, to find that ray of light at your darkest hour. To be held is to know that your hope is not in the financial markets, job security,or winning the lottery, but it is in the One who feeds the sparrows and clothes the lillies of the field. To be held is to trust in that love when you are alone, scared, grieving, angry, hurt, and bitter. There is no emotion He is not big enough to handle. When time and chance happens to us all, as it inevitably will, He is there to be that firm foundation, that Rock, that mountain that is higher than I, that Oasis in the desert, that fountain of Living Water. He is. Stretch your arms up to Him today and let Him hold you through whatever you face. He will.

Lord Willing & the Creeks Don't Rise--

2010-05-04T11:29:00.005-05:00

We are not in control. We just think we are.

The events of this past weekend--

He bestows rain on th earth; he sends water upon the countryside. Job 5:10

My ears had heard of you, but now my eyes have seen you. Oh Lord, how great is your power. How mighty is your hand to save, to rescue, to protect, to deliver. "I know that you can do all things; no plan of yours can be thwarted." Job 42:2.

We cannot see the bigger plan. We are on a need-to-know basis. We must trust that all things work together for good to them that love Him and are called according to His purposes.

On Things Above:

2010-03-18T10:00:00.002-05:00

Recently I was asked this question: Why is it that it’s easy to be satisfied “spiritually” but not physically..like in wanting stuff….do you think our culture has missed it? Do we have it backwards..hmmm?"

My answer:
Yes we have missed it. Because we are spoiled. Because we are human. I think we are trying to fill that void--that can only be filled with fellowship with God. We (Adam&Eve) had perfection, knew what it was to have perfect fellowship at their disposal and all things needed for complete comfort. They didn't know how good they had it...til they broke fellowship. Maybe everyone from Adam's day on has struggled to regain that perfection once known by man, known only to Adam and Eve. It existed. It exists still, we just can't get to it through natural means. (The garden is guarded by an angel with a flaming sword). We have to go through Christ. We think we can find it by filling ourselves up with these things... but we will only be made perfect through Christ and putting off the mortal man in exchange for the immortal one. When Christ is the focal point, all things are set right again. That's what He came to do. Set things right, do away with the old. Behold all things become new... "when that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part is done away." (1 corinthians 13:10)

Was my study of the New Jerusalem that brought on this e-mail, talk of a splendid city whose builder and maker is God...a city 1400 miles long, wide, and 1400 miles HIGH. Hard to even wrap your mind around isn't it? Not only do we get new bodies, new home, new robes, new names---but we get a new way of fellowship, which is what my friend pointed out to me. It won't be the home that is our focal point...but the LIGHT that is Christ and being in His presence. We get to fellowship with Him without the barrier of this human body and gravity getting in the way, without our human words failing, without our minds being distracted by cares of life, without wading through all this emotional baggage we carry...the freedom we will experience will be unparalleled...We have a measure of freedom now--but with Satan out of the picture...it will truly be HEAVEN.

Hope Lives.

~*BELIEVE~*

Vintage Christmas Gift Wrap for 2011

My Gift

Newly Single, Now What?

Unbroken

Pro Life--It's a Choice

Dealing with the Dross

In Memoriam: Nancy McCoy Robinson(05/23/40--08-08-01)

Grab onto It and Don't Forget it it!

Stinky Feet or Stinkin' Pride?

In Memoriam--Carl E. Robinson (04/04/1942--10/09/1993)

Hope Waits...

Hope Quotes...

Hope Flies

Home--What a Lovely Word

From Here to There--And in Between

Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep

One Last Thing

A Little Good News

Be Still and Know

My Gift

Beauty From Ashes

To Be Held--

Lord Willing & the Creeks Don't Rise--

On Things Above:

~BELIEVE~