Blessings in the Cubbard

Sitting here looking out my window at the drab scenery, I wonder what I can be thankful for today.  It's cold, it's dreary, it's foggy, and did I mention, it's cold?  As I close my eyes to block out the drabness, I remember seeing a video of a little girl sitting at the dinner table, wearing oversized glasses for such a little face and her eyes squinted shut in deep concentration as she begins pouring out a list of things to be thankful for.  She mentions everyone from parents, to cousins, to animals, on down to the forks and spoons on the table.  Oh, to be as one of these, to have that child like innocence and thankfulness for everything, including forks.


So, I ponder on things in my cubbards.  My cabinets hold, not only dishes, but memories.  I have a bowl and rolling pin that belonged to my grandmother.  She was just a little whisp of a woman, married to my Papa, a gentle giant of a man.  Papa preached and Grandma shouted.  What a heritage they left me.  Papa never learned to drive nor had a car, but he preached all over eastern Tennessee. He would walk into all the little communities and preach his heart out, sometimes getting rides to his destinations and sometimes not, but it never slowed him down.  Grandma was ever faithful to cook, sew, make soap, can foods and clean the house that was the resting place for the man of God. What an example of servitude they were to me.



I have the china cabinet that sat in my mother in law's kitchen from the time I started dating her handsome son at the age of fifteen until she passed away.  It sits in my dining room, holding some of the dishes that belonged to her.  My mother in law took me in when I was a young girl alone.  She treated me as one of her own, she taught me how to cook and how to clean.  She helped me get through weeks of colic with my newborn little boy.  And she loved me.  What an example of generosity she was to me.

Also in my cubbards are little bowls and plates made of plastic with bright colors and cartoon figures on them.  They were some of the first dishes my boys used their little dimpled hands on to pick cheerios out of, and now they're being used by my beautiful grandchildren. My stepmother gave me some of these dishes when I was a young bride and now they are being used two generations later.  What a beautiful example of the continuation of life.

So,as I plan and make preparations for my family to gather on Thanksgiving day, I'll be thankful that God has blessed us with four children and their families.  I'll be thankful that they are all healthy and that they all bring joy to our lives.  As I begin to prepare the feast for the day, I'll thank God for the provisions he has given us...our home that is above anything that a poor, little country girl could ever have dreamed for....the finances to live comfortably, to never go hungry, and to enjoy.

Yes, I have plenty to be thankful for on this dreary day, even down to the last fork.

 

Psalms 31:19 - [Oh] how great [is] thy goodness, which thou hast laid up for them that fear thee; [which] thou hast wrought for them that trust in thee before the sons of men!

Ephesians 5:20 - Giving thanks always for all things unto God and the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ;

Going Back Home

Going back to your childhood home is wrought with emotions.  On my last trip to Tennessee to see my mom and stepdad I decided to take the route we used to take when I was a little girl.  When I was travelling down that road, I began to reminisce about the times I rode, as a young girl, with my youthful mom driving.  I thought about her dark hair that was always fixed to perfection, her lipsticked, dimpled smile showing strong white teeth, and her sky blue eyes behind those dark lashes. My mom was beautiful.   I thought about the conversations, the landscapes we saw routinely, and the music we listened to.  And I thought about how that mom knew exactly which roads to take to get us back home to Tennessee.

Things have changed since then.  Now I drive alone, my mom is not able to even get out of bed.  Mom's dark hair has turned silver and white and it's always a little mussed from laying in bed.  Mom's dimples have turned to wrinkles and her smile isn't as frequent. Mom wouldn't be able to find her way down those roads now because her mind isn't as sharp, but her eyes are still sky blue, their still the same, and my mom is still beautiful. 

While on my visit, my nephew and I spent the day together and decided to go to all the places that used to be familiar.  We went to old homeplaces, old schools, and old playgrounds.  Needless to say, things have changed, yet in so many ways, they are still the same. Each place we passed, we talked about what we used to do there, events that took place, and friends we knew.  I talked about the things my sister and I would do and places we would go and how each adventure was surrounded by laughter.  Not just laughter, but hilarious.... can't catch your breath.... screaming laughter. My sister and I could just say one word that would set off fits of hilarity.

Some of the places were changed, renovated.  Some of the places were there no longer.  The events, the adventures....just memories now, and my sister, well, she's no longer there either.

As I went back to my hotel room that evening, I had the tv on a movie that was about two sisters that were so close and loved each other dearly.  Circumstances caused them to be separated for many years, but their love never wavered.  In the end, when their hair was whiter, their bodies not as young,  the younger sister came back home.  They spotted each across a large field.  They ran screaming toward each other, their arms reaching for that hug that was to come.

While I sat there with tears streaming down my face, I was thinking.  This is it!  This is how it will be when I see my sister again.  She'll be waiting, feet dancing in anticipation, arms ready for the first touch, and then it will happen....I'll see her across the vastness, we'll run to each other, grab each other...then we'll burst into fits of hilarious.... can't catch your breath.... screaming laughter.

Going home can be exciting, or, as in my case where most of the people I loved have already passed on, going home can be difficult.  But I like to think what it's going to be like when I go to my final home and see all my family and see my friends that feel like family. 



Revelation 21:1-4  And I saw a new heaven and a new earth: for the first heaven and the first earth were passed away; and there was no more sea.
2 And I John saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down from God out of heaven, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband.
3 And I heard a great voice out of heaven saying, Behold, the tabernacle of God is with men, and he will dwell with them, and they shall be his people, and God himself shall be with them, and be their God.
4 And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.

Happy Birthday Kaybee!!

It's unbelievable how time can fly by but at the same time seem endless.  It seems like last week that my middle son was born, yet it also seems a hundred years ago. 

I just want to say to him how proud I am that he calls me Mom and how proud I am of the man he has become.

 He's gone from my sweet faced baby boy to the athletic, lovin' life young man.....

 from riding little boy toys to big boy toys...

     from being silly with his brother to being silly with best friends....

 from loving his brothers to loving his family....












going from our little graduate to the final graduation.....

from adding a wife to giving us grandchildren......

he's been a joy to my life.

 

 

 

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, CALEB!!

Silly Animals

I'm pretty sure that bird I hear is laughing at me.  I've never heard that sound before and it sounds just like a high pitched giggle.  One just flew into my screen, so who's laughing now, funny bird?

Sitting on my porch this morning, I can hear all the bird conversations going on around me and they sure sound like a gossipy bunch. 

Nature has been going a little nutty around here the past couple of years and I love to sit out here and watch to see what's going to happen next.

Have you ever watched humming birds?  In my keen eye and mind I have figured out that they must have ADHD.  They do the weirdest things.  They have this thing they do where they look like they're on an invisible swing.  They go back and forth and back and forth dipping down with each pass.  What is that?  Maybe it's a mating ritual of some sort, but, girls,  I would steer clear of that crazy boy.

I had one little humming bird fly into my screen and got it's little pointed nose stuck.  I walked over to put my finger on it's beak and push it out, but it got loose, flew out toward the tree and started with the invisible swing thing again.

Then, one evening I watched a bear come ambling across my field toward the woods. La la la la la.  Paying no attention to anything as it walked into the woods.  Then I hear loud wood banging and teeth clanking and the bear comes running out of the woods.  I really don't blame it.  That noise made me want to run in the house, but I couldn't help watching the bear.  La la la la la, it goes back into the woods.  Wood banging....teeth clanking....running bear.  I don't know how many trips into the woods that goofy bear made, but it eventually got too dark to keep watching, and too creepy to sit out in the dark listening to teeth clanking.

Then there is the deer.  They're like those people who stare at you, so you look away hoping they'll quit, but when your eyes drift back, they're still staring.  You know the kind.  They just keep looking, while your wondering if your pants are unzipped, or if there's something on your nose, or wondering why they don't blink.  Just staring.  Staring.  Staring.  I try to pretend they're not there, but they just keep staring.  Staring.  Staring.

And, spiders. *shiver*  Nothing funny about those things, except when I kill one and do the spider dance all over the porch.  It just doesn't seem normal for anything to have that many legs.

And the other evening, love was in the air.  Two coquettish doves flirting back and forth, were putting on quite a show on our fence, while two robins were having a party in the yard.  I felt like I should look away, but I became a deer.  Staring.  Staring.  Staring.

Nature.  What a funny thing.

Thinking of You!

I'm sitting on my screened porch, watching hummingbirds flit around the feeders, listening to the peeps and chirps of the birds and looking out over my fields with the dew glistening from the sunshine and thoughts meandering through my mind of my family.  What a pleasant, peaceful morning. 

I don't think there is an hour that goes by that I'm not thinking about people that I love, family that has passed,  and loved ones that I cherish.  My thoughts are continually on those that are dearest to my heart.

When my children were younger and still at home and they would be in a flurry to get out the door and on to school, my last words were always, "Love you, be careful and have a good day."  Those weren't just words, they were my thoughts.  I thought of them all day, hoping they were happy, hoping they were having fun.  And then my thoughts would become plans as I would prepare for the time when they got home.  I would wash uniforms if they had ballgames, I would wash clothes for the next day, I would prepare a meal to be ready when they got home from school, and then,when it was time for them to come home, I would either go to the front porch and watch for them to come walking up through the field, or I would drive down to get them from the bus stop, or when they got older I would just wait for them to come bursting through the door with about five or six of their hungry friends.  My thoughts were of them.

Isn't it the greatest feeling to have someone call you, or to receive a card or a note that just says, "I was thinking of you today."  It's so nice to know that  you have been the subject of someone else's thoughts.  It kind of gives you a warm, fuzzy feeling down inside.

I received a special, private note from a friend yesterday.  It was a prayer.  She was praying for me and letting me read her words as she prayed for me.  This isn't uncommon for her.  She's done this many times.  We talk to each other via facebook inbox quite often.  I know of her struggles and fun times as she does mine.  We've been friends just a couple of years and she's introduced me to her family and I've introduced her to mine, but only through pictures and notes because we've never met face to face.  She lives way out west and I'm from the east, yet our paths have crossed and now we're friends.   We'll meet someday, but in the meantime, it's good to know that she thinks of me.

Imagine my feelings when just this morning I was reading Psalms 139 (quickly becoming one of my favorite chapters, ever) and God told me that he was thinking of me.  Don't believe me?  Go read it yourself, and you'll see He's thinking of you, too. 

How precious are thy thoughts unto me, O God!  How great is the sum of them!  If I should count them, they are more in number than the sand:, verses 17 and 18.  Pretty awesome, huh!

Doesn't that just blow your mind?  The Creator of the universe, the One who has created galaxies upon galaxies (over 100 billion and counting), not to mention the millions and millions of solar systems in each of the billions of galaxies, is thinking about you today...right now....this very minute.  And out of all the millions and millions of people on this earth, not just now but the ones that have ever been, He knows your name.

But now sayeth the Lord that createth thee, O Jacob, and he that formed thee, O Israel, Fear not: for I have redeemed thee, I have called thee by thy name, thou art mine. Isaiah 43:1.

Well, I'm feeling pretty special right now. 

You can deny Him, you can say there is no God, you can say it's all a fairy tale. It doesn't matter.  He's still thinking of you.

Are not five sparrows sold for two farthings?  And not one of them is forgotten before God?  But even the very hairs of your head are all numbered.  Fear not therefore: ye are of more value than many sparrows.  Luke 12:6,7

PRICELESS

Women, what are you worth?  The Bible says that your price if "far above rubies."

I looked up some prices of rubies.  And the exceptional cut rubies are priced anywhere from $3,000 a carat all the way up to $225,000 a carat.  I also looked up conversion charts for carats into pounds and it takes about 2500 carats to make a pound.  Now, if you figure a woman weighs 100 pounds (anything above 100 pounds is just extra!), then she would be 250,000 carats.  So, if you are at the low end of the ruby system, you would be worth $750,000,000!  I can't even figure what you are worth if you were a high end ruby!

Unbelievable, isn't it?  I'm pretty sure that today's society doesn't look at us moms that way.  They think a woman should have a career above all else and, if there is any time left, you could possibly consider a part time spouse, and if there is any time after that, you could fit in 1.5 children.  However, if you possibly do try to fit 1.5 children into this, then you have to let someone else be the caretakers.  After all, wasn't it a popular political figure that said, "it takes a village to raise a child"?  (Let me say, at this point, that I know that there are times when a woman absolutely has to work outside the home....been there, done that.)

A woman who can have children, a husband, a home, a career, and keep all her priorities straight, sure has my applause.

I read an article that said if a stay at home mom was compensated for all her work she would get $138,095 per year.  Personally, I think that's a little low, but it's a start.  And it also stated that a mom that works outside the home should be compensated about $85,939 per year above her paying job.

We moms have to remember that our worth as a mom, outside job or not, is worth millions of dollars in God's eyes.  We have to acknowledge that God thought so much of us that he told us that our price is, well, priceless.

When we see the first wobbly steps, when we see the first toothless grin, when we hear the first time they say ma ma, we know it's priceless.  We see them wave out of the bus window on their first day of kindergarten, we cheer at every ball game, we get hugs for no reason...priceless.  We get to read them bedtime stories, sing, "Jesus loves me", tuck them in and hear them ask God to watch over every single neighbor within a ten mile radius, pray for the cat, the dog and the fish....priceless.  And most blessed of all is when we get to bow our heads together and hear them whisper the invitation of Jesus into their hearts...PRICELESS.

Proverbs 31:10, 28  "Who can find a virtuous woman?  For her price is far above rubies.  Her children arise up, and call her blessed;  her husband also, and he praiseth her."

Grandkids Are the Best

I woke this morning thinking about my grandchildren, as many mornings I do.  I have a grandson, four granddaughters, and four grandpuppies, and they are add so much pleasure to my life (the grandpuppies, not so much, however I have been known to buy them presents and Halloween costumes).  I have nick names for my darlings, and even though my husband gives me the evil eye when I call them their nick names instead of their real names, I do it anyway.  It's my special connection to them.  A name that only their Grandma uses, and the older ones have been known to think Gram was mad at them because I didn't use their "special" names.


While preparing my garden, I think about my grandson, Poot.   He earned that name when he was just a few months old, and he expects me to call him that when we talk.    He's 13, full of energy and action.  He loves outdoors, tearing apart motors, fishing and gardening.  He's autistic.  I know if he was with me he would be trying to tell me nicely that he knows more about gardening than I do.  And he's right.

I spent the day with my oldest granddaughter, Girlie, the other day.  She's 11 going on 21.  She's gorgeous and funny and energetic and talkative.  While Papa was sitting in his favorite seat, which is a recliner with the tv on some sort of sports, we were in my favorite place....the porch.  After eating at a little restaurant with seating overlooking New River, then getting an enormous ice cream cone, we settled in on the porch and talked.  And talked.  And talked. Later, we built a little fire in the fire pit, roasted marshmallows and made s'mores.   I hope that's a memory that she'll always keep of her Grammy.

My mind wandered to a video of one of my other granddaughters, who I call Luvy, because she is.  She was gently looking through the pages of her daddy's Bible, and with each page she turned, she would say, "Jesus loves me"  "this I know".  She's a lover of nature, animals, books, her little sister, and songs.  She loves to close her eyes and rub her face on her sister's little fuzzy head.  And she always has a song going....when she's reading, when she's playing and somehow, even when she's eating.  When I'm at her house, Mimi is the only one who is allowed to get her something to eat or drink, the only one allowed to color with her, the only one allowed to rock her to sleep, and, yea, the only one who is allowed to change her diaper..  She's full of life and giggles. 

Then there's our little princess, who I call Boo, because it was her favorite word when she was so very little.  Anytime you would look at her and do peek a boo, you could get a beautiful, little toothless smile.  She loves princesses, princess castles, princess clothes and princess cartoons.  Boo is very opinionated, even though she's only three, but she's not mean about it or obstinate, she just has her own outlook on life and how things are.  The other day while her daddy was helping me do some yard work, she decided to try her daddy's patience.  When he gently scolded her (because that's all it takes for her tender little heart), she turned around, walked up the steps and into the house.  About a minute later her daddy walked in to check on her and she was sitting on the little doll bench I have at my house.  He asked her what she was doing and she answered, matter of factly, "I'm in timeout."  How funny she is.

And then there's our newest granddaughter, Emma Tay.  I say "Tay" because her older sister can't pronounce Kay yet.  I'm not sure what her special name will be because she's still developing her little personality, but it may always be Tay.  She's so pleasant and laid back.  Doesn't really matter what's going on, she just lays there, smiling, taking it all in in those big, blue eyes.  I have a mental picture burned in my memory of her.  She was feverish, a little fussy and hungry.  She had been crying, so there was stuff running out of her nose and her cheeks were shiny with tears and I looked at her and said, "hey there, Emma Tay" and a big, toothless smile spread across her wet face.  I will always have that picture imprinted in my mind. 

I know, I know.  You really don't want to hear about my grandbabies, but sometimes something is so meaningful to me that I just have to write it, and this morning I was feeling so blessed and honored to be the grandmother of these precious little lives, I just had to write.

I am so blessed.

Sittin' on the Porch

As the sun comes up, sitting on my porch drinking a cup of tea and listening to the chirps and songs of the birds through the woods has to be the most peaceful place ever.  I hear roosters in the distance, a variety of little birds, a woodpecker somewhere far away,  and the lonesome cooing of a dove. 

When I hear that dove, it takes me back to a place and time that existed when I was a little girl, sitting on the porch of my Papa and Grandma.  Even as a child, I would hear that lonely song of the dove and think how sad it must be, and yet, it was a comfort to me.

Many times I would sit on Papa's lap and rub his old, wrinkled hands and push on the mushy fingertips and thumbs and wonder why his hands were so different from mine.  I would see Grandma quietly sitting in her chair, with her legs crossed, looking down the road toward all her beautiful flowers, and wonder what she was thinking.

Grandma and Papa weren't the type to get down on the floor and play games, or bustle about trying to keep me busy, they were quiet...steady....a strong force. 

Grandma would let me take down her hair, that had never been cut, from it's ever present bun on her head.  She would drape it across the arm of her old rocking chair and I would gently pull a comb through those long strands of charcoal, white and silver.  She would let me put my coloring book across her lap and we would quietly color pages without saying a word, but yet enjoying each other's company.

Papa and I would take many trips up and down the dusty, dirt road, my little child's hand in his big, worn hand.  Not many words were spoken, but a lifetime of memories were made. 

I miss Grandma and Papa and the serenity they created in that old log house with the large, plank porch.

Proverbs 13:22  A good man leaveth an inheritance to his children's children...

What I Did On My Vacation Day 2

What a relaxing vacation this is!  I am a chillin', laid back, relaxin' woman today.  I'm telling you, this is no place for the person who is running from one activity to the other to try and fit everything in before it's time to go home again.  This is the place for a prop your feet up, watching the ocean, sippin' ice tea kind of vacation. 

We started the day with a trip to the local Baptist church.  The people were so sweet and friendly and the service was so worshipful..  We sang songs of praise and saw lifted hands all over the church.  The message was one of hope, of peace, of anticipation.

Afterwards, we walked through the little town in search of the perfect  place to have lunch.  The thing about quaint, quirky little towns is that they have their share of odd little restaurants.  We decided on a small cafe, was shown to our seats, and given the menus.  It didn't take us but a glance down the menu to know we're in the wrong place.  A sliver of this, a taste of that and not enough food to fill a saucer, not to mention, things we'd never heard of, so we decided to sneak out.  We waited until the coast was clear, quietly tiptoed away from our seats, and hurriedly scampered down the street, holding in our giggles.  We felt like we had been bad little children, but were glad we got away with it.

We found a nice restaurant, got our tummies full and spent the rest of the day just drifting in and out of cute little stores. 

We visited the antique store, which is one of my most favorite things to do.  It's like treasure hunting.  You're not sure what you're looking for, but when you find it, you're ecstatic!  You know it's an antique when you have to read the little tag on it to see what it is. The sad thing is, is that I'm seeing things in antique stores that I had when I was younger, so what does that make me?  Well, let's not go there.

Grab some groceries, back to the condo, out on the balcony, feet propped up, watching the ocean again....yep, this is my kind of vacation.




Matthew 11:28  Come unto me all ye that labour and  are heavy laden; and I will give you rest.

What I Did On My Vacation - Day One

We have arrived!!  My heart's beating faster because we're driving up the driveway to our condo.  This is always like opening a gift.  Am I going to like it, or am I going to have to put on a happy face and pretend it's just what I wanted.

This is like some kind of exam for me.  I researched, I studied, I did my homework, and now I find out what grade I received.

Okay, it has a nice parking area with lots of lights. Check.  It has an elevator for all my piles of suitcases.  Check.  It has a keyless entry....and it works! Check.  Drum roll, please....

As I open the door and look inside.... IT'S CLEAN!  Check!  It has a pretty pool! Check!  And the views?? GORGEOUS!  Double check!! 

I made an A!!  Woohoo!!

We decided to go to a little restaurant we had visited years ago.  The Crab Trap is located in a building that is over a hundred years old, all the old brick still showing inside and the same creaky wooden floors that were walked on a millennium ago.

With my navigational skills, we only got lost a couple of times.  We're on a small island, so there's only so many times you can get lost. 

The town is quaint, with lots of little shops and cafes.  It's a historical district, so the architecture is beautiful.  As we stroll along, we can hear music wafting out of the buildings, we see sea gulls floating overhead, and families dragging children and pushing strollers.

Well, of course I get crab legs at The Crab Trap.  What else would you get at a crab restaurant.  Let the cracking begin! 

The way I eat crab legs is to crack them all at once, pile up all that sweet, delicious meat on my plate, then I get to eat it, but not until all the cracking is done. 

Hubby just sits with an astonished look, as shells are cracking, water is dripping, and meat is flying all over our table.  He's much more conserved than I am.   He eats food you don't have to use your fingers with, but what fun I'm having!  It's another exam.  How much meat can I get out in one piece, and how fast can I do it? 

With butter all over my chin, my belly full, and a smile on my face, I think I aced this test.  Yea, Hubby gets a little embarrassed, but he loves me.  I can tell by that smile on his face.


Genesis 9:3  Every moving thing that liveth shall be meat for you; even as the green herb I have given you all things.