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!
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
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."
Monday, December 13, 2010
Remembering what in life is important
My Purpose Driven devotional this morning reminded me to adopt an attitude of what in life is important, to remember, if you will, that when we die, we don't leave home, but we are going home. To remind myself those I miss so much, are home and I should be glad for them and not feel so sorry for myself, that I would ever wish them back here. God is so Good and His mercy endures forever. With Hope and that Blessed Assurance I really can face my tomorrows. No matter what that may bring or what it has in store, I will trust, I must choose to trust the Lord. I know in Whom I have believed and am persuaded that He is able to keep that which I have committed unto Him. For in my Father's House there are many, many rooms. Jesus said, I go to prepare a place for you, and I will come again, that where I am, there you may also be." Glory to God in the Highest, Peace on earth Good will to all. Let not your heart be troubled. He has come that we may have life and have it more abundantly. What really matters should be eternal, not eternally useless. (Purpose Driven Life) Do I want to lay up treasures in Heaven, where thieves cannot steal, and nothing can destroy, or am I laying up treasures here, where nothing lasts? Jesus said, For those who seek me, will find me. Is this my desire?
I am grateful for those who have gone before me, who sought to teach me His Way, the Way of Truth and Life. For indeed they have gone home, and one day we will join them. So this Christmas, I can remember with fondness their legacy and rejoice in their Homegoing. Just keeping track.
I am grateful for those who have gone before me, who sought to teach me His Way, the Way of Truth and Life. For indeed they have gone home, and one day we will join them. So this Christmas, I can remember with fondness their legacy and rejoice in their Homegoing. Just keeping track.
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