This weekend was my high school class reunion. Forty years, WOW, it really is hard to believe I have been out of high school that long. I so enjoyed getting to see some of my classmates I had not seen in at least thirty years. (we did have a reunion in '81). They all looked pretty good, and as my grandfather used to say, " it is hard to be pretty and good"
We went to North Gwinnett, toured the school and my oh my! How it has changed. I realized as we were planning it, we were just the eleventh class to graduate from that school. It was started in 1959. That was the year most of us started to school in first grade then. We did not go to Kindergarten and we went to eighth grade at North. We actually stayed at our Elementary schools through seventh grade.
My classmates were all so gracious, and I am so grateful for the opportunity to reconnect. My only regret is that I did not have more time to talk to each person and catch up. Four hours just was not long enough. What a really classy bunch of people I had the privilege to go to school with. I came away renewed in the realization of how God truly works all things according to His Purpose. Everyone I talked to inspired me to excellence, not perfection, but excellence.
There were many I would have liked to have seen, but for whatever reason they were not able to come. I can only hope that the life choices made have been fulfilled for the betterment of ourselves and our society.
Our Alma Mater says: Hail to thee our Alma Mater, North Gwinnett High School. She stands on faith and love and honor, waving colors true. May we always love her glory, never to forget, all the friends we made and loved at dear ole North Gwinnett.
I don't think I can forget these friends, some we went all twelve grades together and others just five. Unlike a school with one community, we were made up of three communities.
I, for one am grateful for the experience.
Just keeping track...
Monday, October 24, 2011
Monday, October 17, 2011
Consider the lilies
After reading a friend's blog tonight, I am reminded of a song my daughter sang as a child. "Consider the Lilies". It is taken from Matthew 6:25-34.
Because I tend to worry too, I need this reminder every day also. Thanks Brooke for the gentle reminder.
Consider the lilies, they don't toil nor spin, but there is not a king with more splendor than them. Consider the sparrow, he don't plant nor sew, but he is fed by the Master, Who watches him grow. We have a Heavenly Father above, with eyes full of mercy and a heart full of love. He really cares when your head is bowed low. Consider the lilies and then you will know.
May I introduce you to this dear friend of mine, Who hangs out the stars and tells the sun when to shine. Who kisses the flowers each morning with dew, but He is never too busy to care about you. (lyrics by Candy Hemphill)
I could always relate to that song and love singing it as I rock little ones or swing on the porch swing with them. To sing it or hum it takes me back to a simpler time, and reminds me in a quiet way, "No need to worry" for what does worrying add to my day?
Another song by the Hemphills, "He's Still Working on Me." I can close my eyes and see my kids singing that one too.
He's still working on me. To make me what I ought to be. It took Him just a week to make the moon and the stars, sun and Earth and Jupiter and Mars. How loving and patient He must be, cause He's still working on me. In the mirror of His word, reflections that I see, make me wonder why He never gave up on me. But He loves me as I am and helps me when I pray. Remember He's the Potter, I'm the clay. There really ought to be a sign upon my heart, 'don't judge her yet there is an unfinished part'. But I'll be perfect just according to His plan, fashioned by the Master's loving hand.
We serve a Risen Savior, no matter what people say. We can believe He cares for us.
Just keeping track
Because I tend to worry too, I need this reminder every day also. Thanks Brooke for the gentle reminder.
Consider the lilies, they don't toil nor spin, but there is not a king with more splendor than them. Consider the sparrow, he don't plant nor sew, but he is fed by the Master, Who watches him grow. We have a Heavenly Father above, with eyes full of mercy and a heart full of love. He really cares when your head is bowed low. Consider the lilies and then you will know.
May I introduce you to this dear friend of mine, Who hangs out the stars and tells the sun when to shine. Who kisses the flowers each morning with dew, but He is never too busy to care about you. (lyrics by Candy Hemphill)
I could always relate to that song and love singing it as I rock little ones or swing on the porch swing with them. To sing it or hum it takes me back to a simpler time, and reminds me in a quiet way, "No need to worry" for what does worrying add to my day?
Another song by the Hemphills, "He's Still Working on Me." I can close my eyes and see my kids singing that one too.
He's still working on me. To make me what I ought to be. It took Him just a week to make the moon and the stars, sun and Earth and Jupiter and Mars. How loving and patient He must be, cause He's still working on me. In the mirror of His word, reflections that I see, make me wonder why He never gave up on me. But He loves me as I am and helps me when I pray. Remember He's the Potter, I'm the clay. There really ought to be a sign upon my heart, 'don't judge her yet there is an unfinished part'. But I'll be perfect just according to His plan, fashioned by the Master's loving hand.
We serve a Risen Savior, no matter what people say. We can believe He cares for us.
Just keeping track
Sunday, August 7, 2011
Premonitions, do you believe?
OK, I am not sure about this one, but felt like I needed to write it down. (disclaimer right)
This week was the 11th anniversary of my Mother-in-law's death, home-going, YES. Alot happened that year. The summer of 2000 started like many others before it, but on July 24th my MOL went into the hospital, unbeknownst to us, at the time, she had Leukemia. Mamaw as she was affectionately called, died early in the morning on August 4th. Her funeral was on Sunday, August 6th. The next week on Sunday, August 13th our middle child, Lorie, left for China. She would be gone for almost 1 year, (11 months and 1 week to be exact). Two weeks later, Kimberly, our first-born, along with her husband of a little less than two years, moved lock, stock and barrel to Salt Lake City, Utah. They would live there for 18 months. Lorie was teaching English in a little Province between Beijing and Shanghai. Kimberly and Todd were sent by our church, GA Baptist, and North American Mission Board, to help prepare for the world to come to SLC for the 2002 Winter Olympics. Witnessing and Building along side other like-minded (Baptists, mostly), for those coming from across our nation, to spread the Good News of Christ's love and forgiveness.
In June of 2001, Michael, our youngest, left to go to China also. He would spend the last month there with Lorie and come home with her. On July 9th, (I believe) they were to fly home to Atlanta. I had been away for a couple of days with my parents. While my husband, Larry was away working out of state. The day they were flying from China to California, where they would stop over, come through customs, and then onto Atlanta, they called me from San Francisco. When I arrived home I had a message from them. They were expected to be in Atlanta earlier than previously expected. Glad I had come home and gotten the message in time to head out to the airport to welcome home two of my "babies."
While Kimberly was still in SLC, we had planned a family trip to go there to visit. So having rented a van to drive across country, we set out early in the morning of July 20th, (again, trying to remember the date) I know we were in SLC for Pioneer Day which is celebrated in Utah on July 24th.
So good for this "mother hen" to have all her babies in the same house again. Like I said earlier, Kimberly and Todd lived there in a little house in Sugar Park area for 18th months. They were scheduled to come home late April after the Olympics were over in February. For Spring Break, the first week in April, I was planning to fly there and help them pack up to come home.
But on March 26th, my Mom was admitted to the hospital and was rushed into emergency surgery. That night she was diagnosed with cancer, and spent 2 or 3 days in ICU at what was then GA Baptist Hospital in Cumming, GA. When I called Kimberly to tell her I would not be coming the next week and why, we all were very sad, as well as frightened at what this meant for our family. Remembering she had just lost one very precious grandmother and now the other grandmother was very sick, was somehow more than we could either bear.
Thankfully we were able to cash in frequent flyer miles and fly her home, so I would just cancel my trip and save those for a later time to fly somewhere else maybe. Two of their good friends did fly out and help Todd drive their stuff home in a couple of weeks. Memaw, as they called her, did recover from the surgery and fought cancer for another 4 years, forever changing our lives. She was blessed to see and hold 8 of her great-grandchildren.
So that brings me to why I am writing this now. Last night, I learned that some of those little ones, it seems, just out of the blue, became very emotional and somewhat concerned about these grandparents' deaths. One asked their Mom, "was she so sad when Memaw died". The other was asking their Mom, about both Mamaw and Memaw and even Papaw, (he died in 1991)
I don't know what this is all about, but I wonder. Do children have premonitions? Some people have dreams, my MOL was one of those who had dreams, my grandmother had dreams, my brother has dreams, I have dreams, do I know what they are saying? "Not really, but looking back I know and can remember how I felt, just before something life-changing happened."
Right after my Mom died, I remember praying, "God let me see her in that new glorious body," because I believe with all my heart, she is in the Presence of God and with all those gone before that had a personal relationship with Christ. So it is not coincidence that I dream of her, not as she was in those last days, but as she looked when she was younger and vibrant. I see her with her parents, and her brother. Just two nights ago I dreamed a very detailed dream about Mom and her brother.
Well what does it all mean? I am not sure, but I do know that I grieve, but not as one who does not have hope, I have Hope. For I know in Whom I have believed, and I am persuaded that He is able to keep that which I have committed unto Him against that day.
I am struggling with why these little ones are asking these questions so seemingly "out of the blue". How do we comfort them, how do we answer their questions about death? I like what my daughter told hers, she reminded them of the story in the bible of Adam and Eve, 'how God created them to live forever, but we cannot live in these bodies, because they are broken, but we will live forever in Heaven with our new bodies.' And that they, as children don't have to worry about their grandparents. I trust that is sufficient to comfort them and give them peace.
Just keeping track...
This week was the 11th anniversary of my Mother-in-law's death, home-going, YES. Alot happened that year. The summer of 2000 started like many others before it, but on July 24th my MOL went into the hospital, unbeknownst to us, at the time, she had Leukemia. Mamaw as she was affectionately called, died early in the morning on August 4th. Her funeral was on Sunday, August 6th. The next week on Sunday, August 13th our middle child, Lorie, left for China. She would be gone for almost 1 year, (11 months and 1 week to be exact). Two weeks later, Kimberly, our first-born, along with her husband of a little less than two years, moved lock, stock and barrel to Salt Lake City, Utah. They would live there for 18 months. Lorie was teaching English in a little Province between Beijing and Shanghai. Kimberly and Todd were sent by our church, GA Baptist, and North American Mission Board, to help prepare for the world to come to SLC for the 2002 Winter Olympics. Witnessing and Building along side other like-minded (Baptists, mostly), for those coming from across our nation, to spread the Good News of Christ's love and forgiveness.
In June of 2001, Michael, our youngest, left to go to China also. He would spend the last month there with Lorie and come home with her. On July 9th, (I believe) they were to fly home to Atlanta. I had been away for a couple of days with my parents. While my husband, Larry was away working out of state. The day they were flying from China to California, where they would stop over, come through customs, and then onto Atlanta, they called me from San Francisco. When I arrived home I had a message from them. They were expected to be in Atlanta earlier than previously expected. Glad I had come home and gotten the message in time to head out to the airport to welcome home two of my "babies."
While Kimberly was still in SLC, we had planned a family trip to go there to visit. So having rented a van to drive across country, we set out early in the morning of July 20th, (again, trying to remember the date) I know we were in SLC for Pioneer Day which is celebrated in Utah on July 24th.
So good for this "mother hen" to have all her babies in the same house again. Like I said earlier, Kimberly and Todd lived there in a little house in Sugar Park area for 18th months. They were scheduled to come home late April after the Olympics were over in February. For Spring Break, the first week in April, I was planning to fly there and help them pack up to come home.
But on March 26th, my Mom was admitted to the hospital and was rushed into emergency surgery. That night she was diagnosed with cancer, and spent 2 or 3 days in ICU at what was then GA Baptist Hospital in Cumming, GA. When I called Kimberly to tell her I would not be coming the next week and why, we all were very sad, as well as frightened at what this meant for our family. Remembering she had just lost one very precious grandmother and now the other grandmother was very sick, was somehow more than we could either bear.
Thankfully we were able to cash in frequent flyer miles and fly her home, so I would just cancel my trip and save those for a later time to fly somewhere else maybe. Two of their good friends did fly out and help Todd drive their stuff home in a couple of weeks. Memaw, as they called her, did recover from the surgery and fought cancer for another 4 years, forever changing our lives. She was blessed to see and hold 8 of her great-grandchildren.
So that brings me to why I am writing this now. Last night, I learned that some of those little ones, it seems, just out of the blue, became very emotional and somewhat concerned about these grandparents' deaths. One asked their Mom, "was she so sad when Memaw died". The other was asking their Mom, about both Mamaw and Memaw and even Papaw, (he died in 1991)
I don't know what this is all about, but I wonder. Do children have premonitions? Some people have dreams, my MOL was one of those who had dreams, my grandmother had dreams, my brother has dreams, I have dreams, do I know what they are saying? "Not really, but looking back I know and can remember how I felt, just before something life-changing happened."
Right after my Mom died, I remember praying, "God let me see her in that new glorious body," because I believe with all my heart, she is in the Presence of God and with all those gone before that had a personal relationship with Christ. So it is not coincidence that I dream of her, not as she was in those last days, but as she looked when she was younger and vibrant. I see her with her parents, and her brother. Just two nights ago I dreamed a very detailed dream about Mom and her brother.
Well what does it all mean? I am not sure, but I do know that I grieve, but not as one who does not have hope, I have Hope. For I know in Whom I have believed, and I am persuaded that He is able to keep that which I have committed unto Him against that day.
I am struggling with why these little ones are asking these questions so seemingly "out of the blue". How do we comfort them, how do we answer their questions about death? I like what my daughter told hers, she reminded them of the story in the bible of Adam and Eve, 'how God created them to live forever, but we cannot live in these bodies, because they are broken, but we will live forever in Heaven with our new bodies.' And that they, as children don't have to worry about their grandparents. I trust that is sufficient to comfort them and give them peace.
Just keeping track...
Saturday, July 9, 2011
Be still and know....
I got home from vacation to the beach on the Atlantic side of Florida, just over the Georgia state line. Came home on Tuesday from Lorie's.
Watching my adult child with her 3 children as she is expecting her 4th in a few weeks, just makes my eyes swell with pride; pride in who she is, who she has grown up to be.
If I have any gift, it is a gift to be allowed to be not only her Mom, but friend. I am fortunate to have that privilege and honor. All three of my adult children make me feel this way. I am a most blessed person.
I was talking to a long time friend last night. I first got to know him as a Senior in High School. He was my Principal, actually the Assistant Principal at the school I graduated from. He then became Principal of the Elementary school my kids went to. He wanted to know what they are doing and where they are now, remembering I had two little girls and a little boy, when we were at that school during the 80's. After reminding him of their names, he assured me he remembered them all three. "You remember kids like the "Plott kids," he said. "Good kids," and because I was always very involved at the school, he remembered me fondly.
I love to talk about my kids, because they are really a gift, a heritage. I love telling how they have traveled around the world, and how smart, friendly, and creative they are. But the greatest accomplishment I feel, is the way they point others to their relationship with Christ.
They are quietly living His example in everything they do. They are diligent, exemplary citizens, striving to do what is right and honorable toward all people they come in contact with. Yet they never boast or brag about themselves, but boast of Who they belong to.
I appreciate the lyrics; "Be still and know, He is God! He is God! I have had that time this week after arriving home, to do just that, "be still and know" I look forward to what I will learn and become from this "Quiet time".
I am loving "keeping track"...
Watching my adult child with her 3 children as she is expecting her 4th in a few weeks, just makes my eyes swell with pride; pride in who she is, who she has grown up to be.
If I have any gift, it is a gift to be allowed to be not only her Mom, but friend. I am fortunate to have that privilege and honor. All three of my adult children make me feel this way. I am a most blessed person.
I was talking to a long time friend last night. I first got to know him as a Senior in High School. He was my Principal, actually the Assistant Principal at the school I graduated from. He then became Principal of the Elementary school my kids went to. He wanted to know what they are doing and where they are now, remembering I had two little girls and a little boy, when we were at that school during the 80's. After reminding him of their names, he assured me he remembered them all three. "You remember kids like the "Plott kids," he said. "Good kids," and because I was always very involved at the school, he remembered me fondly.
I love to talk about my kids, because they are really a gift, a heritage. I love telling how they have traveled around the world, and how smart, friendly, and creative they are. But the greatest accomplishment I feel, is the way they point others to their relationship with Christ.
They are quietly living His example in everything they do. They are diligent, exemplary citizens, striving to do what is right and honorable toward all people they come in contact with. Yet they never boast or brag about themselves, but boast of Who they belong to.
I appreciate the lyrics; "Be still and know, He is God! He is God! I have had that time this week after arriving home, to do just that, "be still and know" I look forward to what I will learn and become from this "Quiet time".
I am loving "keeping track"...
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Learning from my children
My son moved to North Carolina the last of May. He works for the Army. I will miss being able to call him up, which is what I would do sometimes while he lived just down the road a bit, in Atlanta. Then we would meet somewhere for Sunday lunch after church, or special events, somewhere near the perimeter. I laughingly told him, "I will have to meet you somewhere in South Carolina now. That should be about half way." I have learned from him: how to be careful on the computer, how to blog and connect to the 'world wide web'; and to not give my computer viruses, and such. I have learned how to be 'Mom' to an adult son, how to truly let him 'fly, even soar'. I am so very proud of you "my son".
And my daughters, each unique in their own right, yet similar in their pursuit for excellence. For those of you who follow my blog, I would like to share one of their writings. They have both taught me how to be a "Mom to a Mom", my 'first-born' and my 'second-born' I am truly grateful to you both.
To my children,
It has become a tradition each year to return to the small town where I grew up and attend the Memorial Day Parade.
You are always excited to see "princesses" (pageant winners), "karate heroes" (local martial arts classes), soldiers and "the horses that come at the end and poop all in the road." The highlight for you is probably the extraordinary loot of candy that you always bring home, tossed from classic cars, trailers full of sports teams being pulled behind trucks, and tractors.
There comes a time in the parade each year when a hush falls over the crowd and no candy is thrown. Somehow, even though you are all still young, you know to wait quietly while this group in the parade passes. You can't read well enough to understand yet what this group represents. If you looked behind you during the moments, when the only sound is shuffling feet on asphalt, you would see me wiping tears from my cheeks and you might ask, "Mommy, why are you crying?"
If you turned and ask me that, my loves, I would answer:
The signs that they hold as they go quietly by are the names of the recently fallen from our state. They are names of soldiers, warriors, mommies, daddies, sons, daughters, sisters, brothers, and friends who have given everything in the name of freedom.
Some were boys recently graduated from high school, going to see the world and make a difference.
Some were fathers and grandfathers who devoted their adulthood to serving our country.
Some were sisters keeping a commitment they made to help pay for school.
I'm sure each one had a different reason for joining the fight to ensure freedom, but they all had the same commitment to give whatever was required.
These tears come for many reasons.
They come for the families and friends left behind.
They come for the soldiers who fought alongside these in their final moments.
They come because there is still a need to fight.
But most of all, my love, they come because you and I have been protected by these.
You fall asleep at night without fear of attack.
You don't know the sound of mortar fire or machine gun.
We worship when and where and how we please.
We come and go, buy and sell, speak and think, learn and grow in freedom because of those who are willing to fight on our behalf.
So the tears are tears of gratitude; a quiet offering of thanks to those who are willing and able to do what I cannot. These are the reasons that Mommy cries at a parade.
Both daughters are funny and respectful, with a vibrant mixture of both equally. Can I say again, "how grateful I am to them both?"
Now that you are crying tears of gratitude, laugh with us with gratitude as well:
This is an acceptance speech written after winning a contest.
First of all I want to say “Wow”! What an honor! That I would even be in this category with such ugly sofas is an amazing feat, I feel so undeserving next to such decorating atrocities.
Thank you to the Academy of ugly sofas ( uglysofa.com ) for bestowing this title upon us.
There is one person that I must thank, because without him, I would have never picked out this sofa 13 years ago and that is my husband Todd. Thanks babe, I love you!
To my children, who put every stain on there with love. From every runny nose, to every instance of projectile vomit, to every accident during potty-training; it all launched us forward to this day and this contest. You are my angels and you were so instrumental in this achievement.
Thank you to my son Andrew who served as my photographer, it was truly an award-winning photo.
Thank you to my friend Andrea for slipcovering your sofa recently, if it had not been for you I would have never heard of uglysofa.com, or at least not in time for this contest.
And lastly, but certainly not least, I am forever grateful to those of you who are my biggest supporters: my facebook friends who not only “liked” my sofa but some of you even shared it on your wall as well. We have been through so much together: likes and dislikes, friending and unfriending, hiding and poking, but you are still here. You were there when I shamelessly solicited votes so that I could win and gain monetarily. For that I commend you, and you can bet that I will be there in the same manner for you.
I will “like” your photo of your child even when another kid is way cuter. I will “like” your business even though I have never used your services and I don’t really know what you do. I will “like” your pet even though I am not a pet person and to be honest animals annoy me. Why do I say all these things, I don’t know one of the kids distracted my and I lost my train of thought…
Oh yeah, I will be there for you because that is what facebook friends are for!
And my daughters, each unique in their own right, yet similar in their pursuit for excellence. For those of you who follow my blog, I would like to share one of their writings. They have both taught me how to be a "Mom to a Mom", my 'first-born' and my 'second-born' I am truly grateful to you both.
To my children,
It has become a tradition each year to return to the small town where I grew up and attend the Memorial Day Parade.
You are always excited to see "princesses" (pageant winners), "karate heroes" (local martial arts classes), soldiers and "the horses that come at the end and poop all in the road." The highlight for you is probably the extraordinary loot of candy that you always bring home, tossed from classic cars, trailers full of sports teams being pulled behind trucks, and tractors.
There comes a time in the parade each year when a hush falls over the crowd and no candy is thrown. Somehow, even though you are all still young, you know to wait quietly while this group in the parade passes. You can't read well enough to understand yet what this group represents. If you looked behind you during the moments, when the only sound is shuffling feet on asphalt, you would see me wiping tears from my cheeks and you might ask, "Mommy, why are you crying?"
If you turned and ask me that, my loves, I would answer:
The signs that they hold as they go quietly by are the names of the recently fallen from our state. They are names of soldiers, warriors, mommies, daddies, sons, daughters, sisters, brothers, and friends who have given everything in the name of freedom.
Some were boys recently graduated from high school, going to see the world and make a difference.
Some were fathers and grandfathers who devoted their adulthood to serving our country.
Some were sisters keeping a commitment they made to help pay for school.
I'm sure each one had a different reason for joining the fight to ensure freedom, but they all had the same commitment to give whatever was required.
These tears come for many reasons.
They come for the families and friends left behind.
They come for the soldiers who fought alongside these in their final moments.
They come because there is still a need to fight.
But most of all, my love, they come because you and I have been protected by these.
You fall asleep at night without fear of attack.
You don't know the sound of mortar fire or machine gun.
We worship when and where and how we please.
We come and go, buy and sell, speak and think, learn and grow in freedom because of those who are willing to fight on our behalf.
So the tears are tears of gratitude; a quiet offering of thanks to those who are willing and able to do what I cannot. These are the reasons that Mommy cries at a parade.
Both daughters are funny and respectful, with a vibrant mixture of both equally. Can I say again, "how grateful I am to them both?"
Now that you are crying tears of gratitude, laugh with us with gratitude as well:
This is an acceptance speech written after winning a contest.
First of all I want to say “Wow”! What an honor! That I would even be in this category with such ugly sofas is an amazing feat, I feel so undeserving next to such decorating atrocities.
Thank you to the Academy of ugly sofas ( uglysofa.com ) for bestowing this title upon us.
There is one person that I must thank, because without him, I would have never picked out this sofa 13 years ago and that is my husband Todd. Thanks babe, I love you!
To my children, who put every stain on there with love. From every runny nose, to every instance of projectile vomit, to every accident during potty-training; it all launched us forward to this day and this contest. You are my angels and you were so instrumental in this achievement.
Thank you to my son Andrew who served as my photographer, it was truly an award-winning photo.
Thank you to my friend Andrea for slipcovering your sofa recently, if it had not been for you I would have never heard of uglysofa.com, or at least not in time for this contest.
And lastly, but certainly not least, I am forever grateful to those of you who are my biggest supporters: my facebook friends who not only “liked” my sofa but some of you even shared it on your wall as well. We have been through so much together: likes and dislikes, friending and unfriending, hiding and poking, but you are still here. You were there when I shamelessly solicited votes so that I could win and gain monetarily. For that I commend you, and you can bet that I will be there in the same manner for you.
I will “like” your photo of your child even when another kid is way cuter. I will “like” your business even though I have never used your services and I don’t really know what you do. I will “like” your pet even though I am not a pet person and to be honest animals annoy me. Why do I say all these things, I don’t know one of the kids distracted my and I lost my train of thought…
Oh yeah, I will be there for you because that is what facebook friends are for!
Monday, May 9, 2011
thankful for Mama:being thankful in all things
We don't choose the things we go through in this life, but our choices do make a difference; we can only choose how we react to them. When God instructed us to "in all things with thanksgiving, make our requests known to Him", He was talking about everyday things, little things, ordinary things. I am glad I had a Mama who left a legacy of love and acceptance, and forgiveness.
Here, because of the Grace of God, and for that reason only, am I. I wrote these words of thanks a few years ago to my Mom for living Jesus and teaching in our home.
THANK YOU, MAMA, for teaching me to love others better than myself. Because you love unconditionally, expecting nothing in return, you taught me to love.
THANK YOU, MAMA, for teaching me to have a 'servant's heart". Because you served others, you taught me to serve to the best of my ability.
THANK YOU, MAMA, for teaching me to love my children enough to want the best for them. It would have been easier to just leave us in our own messes, but you wanted better for us. Even when we made bad choices you loved us and wanted the best.
THANK YOU, MAMA, for teaching me to never give up. When things around you got so bad, you just prayed more and persevered and kept trying. Because of your attitude, I will keep trying, keep praying and trusting God.
Just like I knew you would never leave, I know Christ will never leave me nor forsake me. Thank you for never giving up.
THANK YOU, MAMA, for teaching me to love the unlovely. Because you loved and even served those who did not seem to love you in return, I learned to love the unlovely.
THANK YOU MAMA, for teaching me to be generous in my giving. Even when something already belonged to you in the first place, you were grateful when we gave it back to you. I remember when we were little, one Christmas, or perhaps, Mother's Day, we wrapped up some of your ear bobs and Daddy's tie clips, to give them to you as a gift. You were so genuine and grateful, knowing all the time they were already in your possession. So thank you for teaching me to be a cheerful giver.
THANK YOU, MAMA, for teaching me to forgive. Even when people hurt you, you forgave and loved anyway/
THANK YOU, MAMA, for teaching me to love life and laugh. We all do silly, even stupid things, but thank you for teaching me to laugh at myself and not take myself so seriously.
THANK YOU , MAMA, for teaching me to love God's Word. You took me to church, sang with us of God's love, I remember one time during my teens, you told me "any problem I was facing, the answer was found in God's Word." Your Bible had a concordance with scripture references and sure enough, there was a scripture for what I was experiencing. So thank you for teaching me to love God's Word.
THANK YOU, MAMA, for teaching me to trust those 'motherly instincts' because you "just knew" when we were hurting, I learned to trust my own 'motherly instincts', call it "intuition" of 'gut feeling', I learned to trust it is the Holy Spirit's prompting. So thank you for teaching me to trust.
THANK YOU, MAMA, for being Jesus in human form. When I was far away physically, or maybe in rebellion, I could feel your love, because I knew you were praying for me. You would reprove me for bad choices. So thank you for that reproof when I needed it. Thank you for giving me boundaries, because I felt safe and loved anywhere I went. So thank you Mama, for this legacy and heritage of love!
My Mama modeled Christ even in her darkest hours, she always had that light about her.
We have many examples of her love and faithfulness, and because of that I am who I am in large part thanks to Mama. I did learn all those things, because she lived them up until her last breath. I never had a (Paul on the Damascus Road experience, or a Mary Magdalene experience, I just realized one day my need for a Savior, and that no one, not even my Mama could decide for me, to accept or reject Christ's Gift of Himself. Just like my Mom chose that Gift for herself, we all have to. I am glad she taught me that, of all the things she taught me. Just like Mama, I cannot decide for my children, nor their children. However I do have a responsibility to leave that legacy too. To teach them of that Love.
Just keeping track.
Here, because of the Grace of God, and for that reason only, am I. I wrote these words of thanks a few years ago to my Mom for living Jesus and teaching in our home.
THANK YOU, MAMA, for teaching me to love others better than myself. Because you love unconditionally, expecting nothing in return, you taught me to love.
THANK YOU, MAMA, for teaching me to have a 'servant's heart". Because you served others, you taught me to serve to the best of my ability.
THANK YOU, MAMA, for teaching me to love my children enough to want the best for them. It would have been easier to just leave us in our own messes, but you wanted better for us. Even when we made bad choices you loved us and wanted the best.
THANK YOU, MAMA, for teaching me to never give up. When things around you got so bad, you just prayed more and persevered and kept trying. Because of your attitude, I will keep trying, keep praying and trusting God.
Just like I knew you would never leave, I know Christ will never leave me nor forsake me. Thank you for never giving up.
THANK YOU, MAMA, for teaching me to love the unlovely. Because you loved and even served those who did not seem to love you in return, I learned to love the unlovely.
THANK YOU MAMA, for teaching me to be generous in my giving. Even when something already belonged to you in the first place, you were grateful when we gave it back to you. I remember when we were little, one Christmas, or perhaps, Mother's Day, we wrapped up some of your ear bobs and Daddy's tie clips, to give them to you as a gift. You were so genuine and grateful, knowing all the time they were already in your possession. So thank you for teaching me to be a cheerful giver.
THANK YOU, MAMA, for teaching me to forgive. Even when people hurt you, you forgave and loved anyway/
THANK YOU, MAMA, for teaching me to love life and laugh. We all do silly, even stupid things, but thank you for teaching me to laugh at myself and not take myself so seriously.
THANK YOU , MAMA, for teaching me to love God's Word. You took me to church, sang with us of God's love, I remember one time during my teens, you told me "any problem I was facing, the answer was found in God's Word." Your Bible had a concordance with scripture references and sure enough, there was a scripture for what I was experiencing. So thank you for teaching me to love God's Word.
THANK YOU, MAMA, for teaching me to trust those 'motherly instincts' because you "just knew" when we were hurting, I learned to trust my own 'motherly instincts', call it "intuition" of 'gut feeling', I learned to trust it is the Holy Spirit's prompting. So thank you for teaching me to trust.
THANK YOU, MAMA, for being Jesus in human form. When I was far away physically, or maybe in rebellion, I could feel your love, because I knew you were praying for me. You would reprove me for bad choices. So thank you for that reproof when I needed it. Thank you for giving me boundaries, because I felt safe and loved anywhere I went. So thank you Mama, for this legacy and heritage of love!
My Mama modeled Christ even in her darkest hours, she always had that light about her.
We have many examples of her love and faithfulness, and because of that I am who I am in large part thanks to Mama. I did learn all those things, because she lived them up until her last breath. I never had a (Paul on the Damascus Road experience, or a Mary Magdalene experience, I just realized one day my need for a Savior, and that no one, not even my Mama could decide for me, to accept or reject Christ's Gift of Himself. Just like my Mom chose that Gift for herself, we all have to. I am glad she taught me that, of all the things she taught me. Just like Mama, I cannot decide for my children, nor their children. However I do have a responsibility to leave that legacy too. To teach them of that Love.
Just keeping track.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
To Be More Mature In Christ
Taken from Philippians 3: 12-16; As Paul reiterates, "Not that I have already reached the goal or am I already fully mature, but I make every effort to take hold of it because I also have been taken hold of by Christ Jesus. Paul goes on to say, "I do not consider myself to have taken hold of it, but one thing I do, Forgetting what is behind and reaching toward what lies ahead, I pursue my goal, the prize promised by God's heavenly call on my life. Therefore all of us who claim to be mature should think this way, And if you think differently about anything, God, Himself will reveal this also, if we ask Him to. In any case we should strive to live up to the Truth we have attained."
The saying goes, "we should not become so Heavenly minded that we are no earthly good." But yet,
Let us not become so bogged down in the affairs of this world, that we forget where our citizenship is. We have a joint citizenship, if you will, so we have a responsibility to be the best 'citizens' we can here as we prepare for our eternal home.
What about me? When my goal is Heaven, am I valuing knowing Christ more than anything else?
When Heaven is my goal, I will endeavor to grow toward maturity in Christ, worthy of that upward call.
When Heaven is my goal, I will seek to serve Christ by serving others well as an Ambassador, and model for others who are learning, but have not arrived yet. Thanks be to God for HIS unspeakable Joy.
The saying goes, "we should not become so Heavenly minded that we are no earthly good." But yet,
Let us not become so bogged down in the affairs of this world, that we forget where our citizenship is. We have a joint citizenship, if you will, so we have a responsibility to be the best 'citizens' we can here as we prepare for our eternal home.
What about me? When my goal is Heaven, am I valuing knowing Christ more than anything else?
When Heaven is my goal, I will endeavor to grow toward maturity in Christ, worthy of that upward call.
When Heaven is my goal, I will seek to serve Christ by serving others well as an Ambassador, and model for others who are learning, but have not arrived yet. Thanks be to God for HIS unspeakable Joy.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Michael's memory of fishing with his dad in the pond on Papaw's pastureland
One childhood memory which rushes to mind is my first time fishing with my Dad. I was roughly five years old. The start of a great memory was on a Friday afternoon when my Dad came home with a small, child's fishing pole.
My Mother and sisters were leaving for Rock Eagle for the weekend. During the evening, my Dad instructed me on casting the three-foot long line and tackle using a plastic yellow weight instead of a hook. I must have waved that small stick for hours.
The next morning we arose bright and early to set off for the "lake" which was actually a small pond in my grandfather's cow pasture.
My diminutive heart throbbed with ecstasy. I sprung down from my Dad's seemingly towering truck, wand in hand. Dad worked a cricket onto the barb with his puissant hands and we started casting. I would pull my thin arm back past my head, pause momentarily, press the black button on top of my pole with my petite thumb, and thrust my arm forward. The line, float, fish-hook and cricket would sail through the air and hit the water with a sploosh as the reel spun. After waiting impatiently for about 30 seconds, I would reel in my line and cast off again. After several minutes, I felt a slight tug against my tiny hands. The end of my pole began to nod up and down and the small orange and white ball on the surface of the water began to bounce. Then my pole bent steadily and the ball went under. My dad rushed over to assist me in my struggle. I slowly rotated the miniature crank on the reel, putting all my weight into it. My Dad grabbed the net and scooped up my 6-inch trophy out of the water. I did it! I caught a fish! WOW! I breathed heavily with excitement as I watched my catch dropped into the wire, under-water basket. Once again, I began to fish, but this time with even more enthusiasm.
After several more hours and one more fish, we departed from our marine battleground. We rode home with the thrill of victory in our hearts.
My Mother and sisters were leaving for Rock Eagle for the weekend. During the evening, my Dad instructed me on casting the three-foot long line and tackle using a plastic yellow weight instead of a hook. I must have waved that small stick for hours.
The next morning we arose bright and early to set off for the "lake" which was actually a small pond in my grandfather's cow pasture.
My diminutive heart throbbed with ecstasy. I sprung down from my Dad's seemingly towering truck, wand in hand. Dad worked a cricket onto the barb with his puissant hands and we started casting. I would pull my thin arm back past my head, pause momentarily, press the black button on top of my pole with my petite thumb, and thrust my arm forward. The line, float, fish-hook and cricket would sail through the air and hit the water with a sploosh as the reel spun. After waiting impatiently for about 30 seconds, I would reel in my line and cast off again. After several minutes, I felt a slight tug against my tiny hands. The end of my pole began to nod up and down and the small orange and white ball on the surface of the water began to bounce. Then my pole bent steadily and the ball went under. My dad rushed over to assist me in my struggle. I slowly rotated the miniature crank on the reel, putting all my weight into it. My Dad grabbed the net and scooped up my 6-inch trophy out of the water. I did it! I caught a fish! WOW! I breathed heavily with excitement as I watched my catch dropped into the wire, under-water basket. Once again, I began to fish, but this time with even more enthusiasm.
After several more hours and one more fish, we departed from our marine battleground. We rode home with the thrill of victory in our hearts.
Friday, January 21, 2011
Friends are friends forever
We used to sing a song called, "Friends are friends forever" if the Lord is Lord of them.
I am blessed to have such a friend. Rhonda and I first met as Seniors in High School.
She was in Dekalb county, I in Gwinnett, North Gwinnett to be exact. We worked together as cashiers at a discount department store called, Treasure Island, on Buford Hwy at 285. I would go to school 1/2 day my senior year and then had this job after school. During Christmas that year I worked 6-10p.m. most nights. Rhonda and I became classmates in Sunday School at Hebron about 12 years ago. While at one of our socials, we were discussing where we had worked in the past. Unbeknown st to either of us, we realized we had worked together our senior year. We have resumed our friendship and continue to teach together. As I reminisce I am convinced that God's hands are visible all through the tapestry that is our lives. Rhonda is like family to me, someone I can share with, cry with, laugh with, be myself with and above all pray with. I know I can count on her and I believe she knows she can count on me.
The song lyrics are true. "Friends are friends forever, if the Lord is the Lord of them.
Thanks Rhonda for blessing me with your friendship.
Just keeping track
I am blessed to have such a friend. Rhonda and I first met as Seniors in High School.
She was in Dekalb county, I in Gwinnett, North Gwinnett to be exact. We worked together as cashiers at a discount department store called, Treasure Island, on Buford Hwy at 285. I would go to school 1/2 day my senior year and then had this job after school. During Christmas that year I worked 6-10p.m. most nights. Rhonda and I became classmates in Sunday School at Hebron about 12 years ago. While at one of our socials, we were discussing where we had worked in the past. Unbeknown st to either of us, we realized we had worked together our senior year. We have resumed our friendship and continue to teach together. As I reminisce I am convinced that God's hands are visible all through the tapestry that is our lives. Rhonda is like family to me, someone I can share with, cry with, laugh with, be myself with and above all pray with. I know I can count on her and I believe she knows she can count on me.
The song lyrics are true. "Friends are friends forever, if the Lord is the Lord of them.
Thanks Rhonda for blessing me with your friendship.
Just keeping track
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Keeping track of childhood and high school friends
For the last few months a fire has been lit under me, for a class reunion. Oh my, I cannot believe how many years it has been since my senior year at good ole North Gwinnett.
Some of us have kept in touch frequently during those years, celebrating birthdays, our own and our children, together. Some of us have had the pleasure of having our children in the same school we went to, but lost touch since our kids got out of school. Then there are some of us who have reconnected through the luxury of facebook.
Even though I was not a class officer, I am taking this thing and running with it. I am a stay-at-home, childcare provider, so I have lots of time on my hands, and thankfully, with all appreciation to my whiz of a son, I have my own computer. So former classmates, beware! I am out to try to find you.
Two of my fellow classmates and I met yesterday and started. With yearbooks in hand, we talked about everyone of the 96 people who graduated with us. There were less than 15 that one of us did not know something about their whereabouts or someway to get in touch with them. Sadly enough, I have found out that at least 5 of our friends are deceased, no longer with us. Some of them have lost one or both of their parents, a spouse, and children. Some of them live out of state, and some stayed in Gwinnett or surrounding area. Some have children in the Military and are on foreign soil, fighting for the freedoms we enjoy. Some of North's sons and daughters (possibly) have given the ultimate sacrifice for country. I don't know of any of my classmates, but if I find out they did, I want to honor them.
While meeting with Sandra and Arlene, we had the best time. I was complimented with one of the sweetest statements, "I seem like a lady who is comfortable in my own skin." Wow. I spent 12 years of my life with several of my classmates having gone from 1st grade - graduation with them. Being a small, rural community back in the 60's, we were simple and poor, by many standards, but I am finding we were rich and wise. For we value what is important, and found that what really matters is faith, family and friends. I consider myself very rich, because I have all three.
I am having such a good time with this and looking so forward to when we can get together again. I love you class of '71, just "keeping track all over again."
Some of us have kept in touch frequently during those years, celebrating birthdays, our own and our children, together. Some of us have had the pleasure of having our children in the same school we went to, but lost touch since our kids got out of school. Then there are some of us who have reconnected through the luxury of facebook.
Even though I was not a class officer, I am taking this thing and running with it. I am a stay-at-home, childcare provider, so I have lots of time on my hands, and thankfully, with all appreciation to my whiz of a son, I have my own computer. So former classmates, beware! I am out to try to find you.
Two of my fellow classmates and I met yesterday and started. With yearbooks in hand, we talked about everyone of the 96 people who graduated with us. There were less than 15 that one of us did not know something about their whereabouts or someway to get in touch with them. Sadly enough, I have found out that at least 5 of our friends are deceased, no longer with us. Some of them have lost one or both of their parents, a spouse, and children. Some of them live out of state, and some stayed in Gwinnett or surrounding area. Some have children in the Military and are on foreign soil, fighting for the freedoms we enjoy. Some of North's sons and daughters (possibly) have given the ultimate sacrifice for country. I don't know of any of my classmates, but if I find out they did, I want to honor them.
While meeting with Sandra and Arlene, we had the best time. I was complimented with one of the sweetest statements, "I seem like a lady who is comfortable in my own skin." Wow. I spent 12 years of my life with several of my classmates having gone from 1st grade - graduation with them. Being a small, rural community back in the 60's, we were simple and poor, by many standards, but I am finding we were rich and wise. For we value what is important, and found that what really matters is faith, family and friends. I consider myself very rich, because I have all three.
I am having such a good time with this and looking so forward to when we can get together again. I love you class of '71, just "keeping track all over again."
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