A Difficult Holiday Season

Christmas is usually a melancholy time for me.  I can't explain it.  I find it sad that we can't be as loving and giving throughout the year as we are at Christmas time.  We save it all up for one day and once that day of peace and goodwill is gone, we're back to our regular way of doing things.

This year we are all trying to recover from the shock of the school shooting that took so many lives and we're trying to make some kind of sense of it.  We want to do anything and everything we can to keep it from happening again but we don't know what to do.  The reasons that it happened are so many that we can't find one single thing to blame.  Should we place all of the blame on the scapegoat as they did in the old testament days?  Should we burden the goat with all of our sins... the sins of society, the sins of the world and send it out into the wilderness as a sacrifice to face certain death all alone?  Someone already died for those sins and before doing so, he left an example for us in the way he lived his life  Along with that example are instructions on how we are to behave and react and what we are to do as we go about living our lives.  Admittedly, it isn't always clear but there are some things that are clear.

Christians seem to know this savior and what he wants of us.  They can tell the stories, quote the verses, give their advice to others and criticize... they talk the talk. It's time to make changes and do more than make noise.  It's time to put that knowledge into action.  That whole "what would Jesus do" fad seemed like a good idea for teaching our children and teenagers how to behave but maybe we should be asking ourselves the same question. How would Jesus react to this out of control world?

 I'm not saying that you should start hanging out with the sinners, go barefoot and walk the streets. What I'm saying is that we need to change our attitudes.  We need to change our way of thinking. In every instance we should be asking ourselves "If this were me, how would I want to be treated?"  Put yourself into the place of the other person.  We simply cannot know the pain and frustration  or the background that motivates people that we deal with, yet we judge them based on our own standards. Everyone we encounter didn't have the same advantages that we had.  They weren't taught the same values.  We can't expect the same thing from them that we expect from everyone else and since we don't know who these people are we should treat EVERY ONE we come into contact with with compassion.  We should give all of them the benefit of the doubt.

I read about an ABC News poll that said that 85% of all Americans consider themselves Christians.  Why aren't they more vocal?  85%!!!!!!  Those who aren't followers of Christ seem very vocal about what they think Jesus would do in every circumstance and they point to Christians as hypocrites for knowing what they should do but not being as loving, forgiving, compassionate and generous as Jesus.  They really frustrate me because they expect so much from us and they expect us to get it right all the time.  We do get it right but it isn't on the evening news.  Every church that I am aware of is very generous, giving back to their communities and to the world not only with money but also with service from church members. In their generosity, they don't require that recipients believe as they do, they share their beliefs because they consider salvation something of great value that needs to be shared.

As followers, we know that in addition to responsibility to our fellow man, there are requirements of us and one day we will undergo a time of accountability to our God, the Creator of us all.  Are we going to admit that we were generous with our selves and our compassion only during the holidays and at times of catastrophic emergency? Or are we going to admit that we were generous every day?

We show the world the kind of person we are by our action or inaction.  What kind of person does the world see in you?

Stepping off the soap box....

This holiday is proving to be even tougher than I expected.  The loss of Daddy in October was very tough, even though I had plenty of time to prepare myself for it.  Many days I still find myself weepy.  I catch myself when I'm out and about thinking about picking up something to take for daddy the next time I visit.  I'm still training myself to think differently.  It's a hard process to go through.

I do take great comfort in the knowledge that Daddy was a Christian.  His suffering has ended and he is reunited with my mother and my brother and all of those who died in Christ and for that reason, I'm at peace about his death and am happy for him.  It's what he longed for, going home. As crazy as the world is today, I am so thankful that he didn't have to witness last week's tragic news, it would have broken his heart, just as it has broken the hearts of all of us.  But I still miss him.

Warmer and happier days.

Something I miss....

Kneelers.....

In the Episcopal Church it is customary to enter the church quietly, find a seat,  and immediately kneel and  pray to prepare your mind and heart for worship.  Visiting and talking with one another occurs after the service.

I really miss having that quiet time of prayer and reflection and the kneeling for prayer.  Some of the churches have fold down kneelers the entire length of the pew and others have individual padded kneelers similar to the ones in the photo above.  Over the years I've spent a lot of time on my knees and I find there is a special comfort that I feel inside when I am in prayer in this manner.  With my head bowed, my body in a position of submission and supplication, I feel childlike.  I feel that my worries and concerns are being laid at the feet of one with more wisdom than  I and who can sort it all out and make things right.. When I arise I feel lighter, like a load has been lifted and I'm ready to worship without the weight of worry.

The Return of Autumn

True, autumn hasn't arrived yet, but it is on the way.  The shadows are getting longer, sunrise is getting earlier.  Schools have started back and the young people, though they complain, I think they are secretly glad to have their days filled with socializing with friends and having plenty to do rather than face those endless days of summer.

Preschool has started back also.  The building that was so silent all summer is now alive with giggles, princesses with toenails color coordinated with their outfits, rambunctious boys and happy, excited teachers. The hallway has a rack of drying paintings, the floor has slices of pizza and the children are busy getting to know one another and the organization of the world around them.  Suddenly there are lines outside the bathroom doors.

Wednesday Evening Fellowship and choir practice will begin tonight after the summer hiatus.  Those delicious meals and tempting desserts will help to break up the long week and we will have one less meal to prepare each week.  The Fellowship is a great chance to catch up with everyone that you barely see over the summer and it feels because we all become more like a tight knit little family again as the holidays start to approach.

Church business and busy-ness will begin again as well.  Committee meetings, putting together committees for next year, reviewing and compiling budgets... have we achieved our goals?  Have we reached out to others?  Are we saving for a rainy day, meeting our obligations or is God providing what we need?  Have we shared what we have? Both our gifts and talents?  Or have we just written a check instead of participating?

It is just as important to actively participate as to passively donate and you CAN do both!  You can volunteer to serve!  Pray about what is close to your heart and find a way to contribute your time and talent to that committee or to supporting that committee's work.

Maybe you can't knit, but I'll bet you could deliver a shawl or lap robe and spend a half hour with someone who is home bound and lonely and needs to feel loved.  Maybe you can't teach Sunday School, but you could help trim shrubbery, rake leaves, or mow the lawn for one of the church members whose health doesn't allow them to do it.  Maybe you can't cook a meal for the sick but you could help a widow with some simple house repairs or give someone a ride to the grocery store.  Your help is needed and can make a difference in someone's life!

Look around you.... look at your brothers and sisters.  Get to know them and ask... "could I help you with that?"   There are many opportunities to serve and if you have some free time and don't know where to spend it, call your friendly church office... I'll bet they can offer some suggestions for you.

The logic of it makes sense

A Little Break

Jhett and I went to Winston-Salem for a few days late last week.  I dropped her off at home in West Salem where she could enjoy her city house while I spent a few days with Daddy.  Daddy has some sitters helping us now.  He is unable to get out of bed at all.  He needs help eating (he has such tremors that he can only handle sandwiches or finger foods) and he spends much of his time sleeping.  Always a vain man, he still insists on shaving and combing his hair every day.  

Jhett enjoyed spending time lying on the radiators at each window, sleeping on top of the cabinet in the kitchen and reacquainting herself with her old toys.  She has spent each evening in my lap while I would listen to NPR or read "Plainsong" while waiting for my Preacher to get here.



Once he arrived we did yard work that had been neglected for about a year.  There was a Bradford pear tree in the front yard and a breeze early this spring knocked it over.  That left only one tree-sized plant in the yard - a large crepe  myrtle.  The neighbor's trees were growing over the property line and fences, lying on the roof of the house and garage (this is a city house so the side yards are minuscule).  We spent two days cutting and hauling brush.  I can't remember when I have glowed so much (you know Southern women don't sweat, we glow).  I am covered with mosquito bites and am in great fear of the dreaded West Nile Virus so I'm hyper sensitive to each ache and pain since we got home.  I have more bites than I care to count but they seem to be in clusters of at least 3 within in inch.  I have bites on my toes and on  my face.  Thank God, the worst of the itching seems to be over.  It's hard to believe that as dry as things have been back in Winston-Salem, there are more mosquitoes there than here in the Dismal Swamp area.

So now I'm back and getting caught up on work and rest and the next thing you know it's going to be September!                                                                               

An Outing with the Kids

I sometimes think I should moonlight as a travel agent or event planner.  We just recovered (or are still trying to recover) from a rafting trip with a group from the church.

In 2010 we took the Youth Group on a rafting trip in the beautiful North Carolina mountains.  We stayed at the Methodist Mecca also known as Lake Junaluska.  We had such a wonderful time!  When the adults in the church heard about the fun, they wanted to try taking the trip if it was safe enough.  The only restrictions that the rafting company had was that you must be at least 7 years of age and weigh 60 pounds.  All of these adults qualified.

In 2011 we wound up with 24 people who took the trip and 21 rafters.  The ages ranged from a 15 year old high schooler to 80-something retirees.  They were like children, wanting to "do it again" as soon as the ride was over. There were some folks who wanted to go but the timing was off and others who didn't realize it was for adults, so they wanted to go the next year if we did it again.

This year, as soon as 2012 began I started hearing murmurings about the trip.  I checked the website repeatedly about the package prices and finally in March they posted information.  We began forming a list of interested people.  The list would shrink and grow over the next months.  Some would choose to raft, then not raft, then raft again, then one member of the couple wouldn't raft.  Some would go on train rides instead.  It was at times very confusing about who was or was not going but one thing was certain, we would all stay at Lake Junaluska.

This year we had 30 folks who made the trip.  There were 18 rafters, 4 train riders, 6 non-rafters who followed the rafters down the river by car and took photos.  The preacher and I, who had only gotten about 3 hours of sleep the night before, drank coffee, catnapped, and enjoyed watching the ducks, fish and a beautiful chocolate lab play in the river at the Nantahala Outdoor Center.  Just being outdoors in the fresh, clean mountain air was so relaxing.  One day spent outdoors in the NC mountains is the equivalent of 3 days of vacation in the city.

When the rafts returned from their journey we learned that two sailors went overboard - one went twice! The chatter over lunch was fun as we heard recaps of their adventures.  The afternoon was free of planned events so everyone was able to do as they wished until we would meet again at Lake J for dinner.  People would leave Lake Junaluska and begin to head home the day after rafting.  Some would head directly home, others would spend a few more days stopping along the way to see various sights, after all, it is an 8 hour plus trip!

These folks are what I imagine full time kids would be like when they have grown up with all their techno toys (iPads and smart phones).  What a fun group!

My Mama's Blue Willow

There are some days that I miss my mom so much I just ache inside.  She has been gone for 11 years and I still catch myself when something funny or exciting happens thinking that I should call her and tell her all about it.

I'm just feeling a little verklempt today.  I saw some Blue Willow Ware china and it reminded me of mama.  She had a set for many years.  I remember that as a child I dreamed that I was trapped in the Willow Ware world and those birds were chasing me across the Japanese bridge.  My feet seemed not to want to move and it was like running in quicksand.  I couldn't scream, my mouth was sealed shut.  It was a relief to wake up from the dream and every time I see Willow Ware I'm reminded of the frightening dream and of mama.  Especially the biscuits she would serve off the oval platter.

Love's Labor

During my life I have had several, very different jobs. I have worked at a shrub nursery.  I've done landscaping.  I've worked as an advertising director at a newspaper.  I've done bookkeeping.  I've worked in a sheriff's office.  I've been an office manager, an arts council director, a gallery director and curator, a gallery manager and a secretary.  I gained knowledge from each job.  


Of all of the jobs, I would have to say that the one that was most totally gratifying was doing landscaping. I was able to get my hands into the earth, marvel at God's magnificent creation, plant and design my own Garden of Eden, work from "can't see to can't see" and be so exhausted at the end of the day that I would literally fall asleep in the bathtub.  I am not afraid of nor unfamiliar with hard work.

There is something satisfying about doing work. Sure, there's the money, if it is a paying job, but there is something else.... something emotionally gratifying about completing a task. It is spiritual gratification to do work that you lose yourself in, doing it in the best way that you can, knowing that you are doing it because it is the right  thing to do, without pay, without fanfare, without any thought of being thanked or praised... simply because it is the right thing to do. It is how we show our love for others, to do without expecting anything in return.

That is what church work is about. Our church has several such people.  There are some who see that something needs to be done and without being asked, they just do it. They don't complain or call attention to themselves, they aren't looking for any recognition. What they are doing, they do because it is the right thing to do and it is something between them and God. They volunteer to do all sorts of things because there is always something that needs to be done around a church and community. If you were to ask any one of them, they would tell you that THEY get more of a blessing out of doing for others than the ones who receive it. I believe it is true because I have experienced it myself.

Philippians 2:3-8

Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves.  Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others.  Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men.  And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.

Work for money feeds the body, but work without pay feeds the soul.  Examine yourself.  What are you doing to feed your soul?

Walking Miss Peanut

The last time I was at Daddy's I took this video so that daddy could go on a virtual walk with his dog, Miss Peanut.... he laughed and laughed at it.

Not Your Mama's Bible School (Part 2)

Now, some 45 years later, Vacation Bible School comes in a box, canister or backpack.  It is a complete package that includes commercialized themes with slick props, commercially printed materials, videos projected onto a screen all utilizing the latest technology.

The one thing that hasn't changed one bit over the years is the enthusiasm.  The children arrive on registration night and you can see that they are looking around for a familiar face.  They squeal with delight and run to hug one another.  The first night of VBS the younger ones are sometimes weepy, holding on to mom or dad, not wanting to stay.  By the time the evening is over, they don't want to go home.  There is laughter, deafening screams of joy, there are new friends made, both young and old.  

 There are snappy new songs complete with steps and hand motions and there are still some old songs such as "I'll Fly Away" and "Up From the Grave He Arose" with a new beat that the kids can dance to.  There are catch phrases that the kid's learn quickly and scream as if they are trying to dislodge a lung.  Snacks are healthy and are planned to enhance the theme.  The registration form asks about food allergies and the snack committee makes sure the children don't get what they're allergic to.  The crafts seem  to be a little more sophisticated too, but seem to employ the use of a great many stickers rather than paints and in some instances they use craft kits.  They still learn bible stories, catch phrases  and verses.  The games are totally different from what we learned but I attribute that to the person in charge of the games.  He uses water balloons, tubs of water, home made props... the children just love the games. 

The thing I like most about vacation bible school as an adult is the feeling that no matter how messed up and terrible the world seems at times, I can still have hope for a better world.  These children are being taught  foundational lessons of ethics and morality.  They are learning just how much God loves us and how we should treat others with that same love and have concern for our fellow man. 


These beautiful, smart, enthusiastic, and wonderful children, if nurtured have the potential to make the world a kinder and more loving place.  The future is bright indeed. 

Not Your Mama's Bible School (part 1)

I grew up in the Baptist church and attended with several of my family members.  My early life there was one of feeling that I was loved and that I belonged.  One of my early memories is being held in my mother's arms on the back row of the church and if I got rowdy, she could easily slip out and take me into the nursery, just behind the back row.  There was a speaker and glass windows so that the workers could still hear the service and see what was going on.  I loved being held there and feeling the strength of my mother's alto voice as it passed through her and into me as I was held close against her chest.  My early church years have bittersweet memories for me since my mother is gone.

I can also remember attending vacation bible school there in the Baptist church. The theme, costumes, decorations, and lessons were all planned, made and put together by the church members.    We would march into assembly singing "Onward Christian Soldiers".  After singing a handful of well-known children's Christian songs,  we would break out into our various age groups where we would learn memory verses,  play games (London Bridge, Red Rover) and have snacks (Kool-Aid and peanut butter & crackers, and wafer cookies).  At VBS we also worked on crafts each night that were simple things, usually made from  popsicle sticks glued together into the shape of a cross and then painted and decorated.  

Sometimes there would be felt shapes that we would glue to fabric covered boards to make wall hangings with bible scenes or we would make jewelry  from beads and strings.  The grand finale of bible school was held during the Sunday night service following the week of VBS.  We would sing the songs we had learned and various children were selected to recite the memory verses while our proud parents, aunts, uncles and grandparents sat in the audience, fanning themselves with cardboard fans with wooden handles from the local funeral home. 

As I got older the crafts changed.  I was just thinking about this last night. One year we made wall hangings.  They were really cool - burlap was glued to a thin wooden board (about 9" x 12").  On the burlap was an outline of a rooster with several arched tail feathers. Each night we received a specific color of corn and would spend our craft time gluing that corn onto the rooster.  If you missed a night of bible school, your rooster would have a bald spot, so it was an incentive to attend every night.  Thinking back, I can't figure out what the rooster would have to do with bible school unless we were learning about Peter denying Christ "before the cock crows".

I remember coming across my rooster some years later.  It had been stored away in one of daddy's out buildings and mice had eaten away all of the corn and the outline of the rooster had faded.  Just the colored seed coating remained and retained its color, though not as vibrant as it was on those hot and humid summer nights when it was transformed into a crowing rooster.
This one is made of beans and legumes... in your mind, just substitute colored corn.  Lovely, huh?









Around this same time (the mid to late 1960s), some of the younger children spent their craft time gluing macaroni to wooden frames.  The leaders would then spray the completed product with metallic paint to make lovely decorated picture frames.



 I wonder if mice would eat spray painted macaroni.








There is more to come, but in the mean time, if you have any childhood memories of VBS, please share them as a comment.  I'd love to hear of some of the crafts you made and some of your special memories.

The Truth Is....

My initial goal was to have a light hearted look at being a minister's wife but in order to be honest, it isn't all fun.  I can't help forming close bonds with the parishioners.  It might be easier for a more seasoned or (I hesitate to use this term) jaded minister or his wife, who has moved around several times to remain aloof, but for me, these people have been so loving and accepting of me that I just can't help myself.

When the Preacher and I were planning to get married, I was feeling anxious about my role as minister's wife and I talked with other people about it.  I talked with the minister who did our ceremony and I also talked with the local rabbi's wife.  She came into the gallery where I worked and was very friendly and approachable on the subject of being the wife of a religious leader.  I asked her what she found most challenging about being a rabbi's wife.  She said that her greatest challenge was seeing her husband struggle with his member's problems and their emotional effect on him and knowing that there was nothing she could do to help him.  I can see that and understand now exactly what she meant.

I can't begin to tell you how many funerals the Preacher has done since we came here 3 years ago but I know that since January of this year there have been 7 funerals.  Seven.  These have all been people that we have come to know and love since we arrived.  How would you like to speak at 7 friend's funerals?  It isn't easy and I watch him struggle with his own emotions and with offering comfort to the family.  It just isn't easy, it can't be.


The rabbi's wife also said that so much was expected of her personally.  The advice she offered was this... "You will be asked to do many things and expected to do many things but whatever you do, do it because it is what you want to do and do it from the heart and it will show.  If you can't do it from the heart, don't do it."  She said that others may not like it but ultimately you have to live with yourself.  She was right on the mark with that as well.  If you try to participate in everything that goes on, you will be consumed.   



But at times it is consuming.  We are brothers and sisters in Christ here in this church.  It's how we are supposed to view ourselves and our community.  When our brothers and sisters hurt, we hurt.  When they worry, we worry.  When they need help, we give it.  When they are sick, having surgery, have problems with their children, their job, their parents, spiritual crises, we are right there in the thick of it, praying along with them and the thing is that we genuinely care, it isn't an act.


It isn't easy when you see people not treating one another as they would want to be treated or when you are treated unfairly.  We must be better than this.  We know better.  We need to be Christians in the way we interact with everyone.  We Christians, all of us, are supposed to love one another just as we would our own blood brother or sister.  We should be able to always trust one another to do the right thing.... to treat each other as we want to be treated.  If we aren't doing that, what kind of message are we sending out to the rest of the world?  


Therefore, as God's chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience.  Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone.  Forgive as the Lord forgave you.  And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity.   - Colossians 3:12-14

A Hazardous Road

We got married 3 days before we moved here.  As a new wife, I wanted to be sure to feed my new husband properly and being a Southern Woman, that means biscuits, gravy, mashed potatoes, roasts... all those things that should be taken in moderation.  I soon found out that church people love to share what they have and they love to cook.  Since they love their preacher, one of the ways they show their love is to share the produce from their garden with him.  I LOVE this part of it!  Fresh tomatoes, cucumbers, corn, beans, squash and best of all, collards!  There are times when I almost feel that I've died and gone to heaven.  Right now, as I sit here, I have a drawer full of cucumbers in the fridge just waiting to be peeled and sliced into a salad.  Just a few days ago I finished off a drawer full squash.

Our church has Wednesday Evening Fellowship during the school months.  Usually various people or groups in the church will come in and prepare the meal with the proceeds going either back into the church's fund or it might be designated to one of the church groups or missions.  Usually those attending will bring the dessert.  Or if no one volunteers to cook the meal we will have a potluck.  Sometimes we'll have some theme such as Favorite Casserole, Favorite Fall Fare, Favorite Soup or even a Chili Cook Off.  The food is always delicious and the desserts are to die for.  The preacher and I do our best to eat in moderation at these things, but man is it hard.  The desserts are especially hard to resist because these people are the BEST at cooking!  


So... since we've been doing all of this fine eating and enjoying our blessings, we've gained a wee bit of weight.  They say (whoever "they" is) that it isn't what you do occasionally that hurts you, it's what you do every day.  Well, we don't eat desserts every day and when the summer months roll around we almost starve ourselves trying to get that weight off that built up over the fall, winter and spring months.  Fortunately, we eat lots of vegetables with no gravies, no biscuits, no mashed potatoes, and no desserts.  We have watermelon for dessert (unless we get snookered into making homemade ice cream and get stuck with the leftovers).  

There was a time when I would eat anything I wanted, as much as I wanted and didn't gain an ounce.  Those days are gone.  Now I feel as if I'm constantly fighting to keep the weight off and when I do have something good, I can't decide if the guilt I feel for having it is worth it.

Maybe I could cut back to eating just one meal a week... on Wednesday Evening.  Maybe then I could have the dessert.

You Have Got To Be Kidding Me

The latest books in Barnes and Noble, complete with its own crock.

An Explanation (Part 2)

Once mama was gone daddy realized his loneliness.  I would come every Saturday night and go out to the local cafeteria to dinner with him.  I would come to his house on Thursdays and go to lunch with him and spend the afternoon visiting.  We would sit on the glider on the front porch, just like he and mama used to do.

He got a phone call from an old friend... someone he knew even before he knew mama.  They grew up in the same neighborhood.  She was Rosie and she had been twice widowed.  She was a good friend and would call daddy every day.  She was as lonely as he was.  Daddy developed a romantic interest in her but she didn't return his feelings.

A couple of women from daddy's church would call to check in on him and would drop by with food and desserts.  Daddy thought they were flirting with him.  Maybe they were.  I thought they were just being very nice to a lonely man who had recently lost his wife.

Daddy soon reached a point where he wouldn't go anyplace because he was afraid he would miss one of the "girls" phone calls.  Daddy was afraid each of the women he was talking with on the phone would find out about the other women he was talking to.  He was afraid his food gifts would stop and the phone calls would stop as well so he was really getting himself worked up with stress about them visiting and calling.

Rosie seemed to be his favorite but she didn't really seem interested in doing anything more that calling and talking about how lonely she was and how frightened she was to live by herself.  He asked her to marry him.  He wanted someone to move in and take care of him and he, in turn, would take care of her.  She wouldn't have any part of it and in addition, my sister was FURIOUS that he would be thinking of remarrying so soon after mama was gone.

Daddy played this game for several years and then around the fall of 2006 he got sick.  We're still not really sure what happened but he really became sick.  He went through extensive test and the outcome simply wasn't good.  He did get some strength back and was able to get around on his own.  The doctor wanted him to exercise and he refused.  He only wanted to lie around in his recliner, watch TV, and talk on the phone.  My brother and sister and I pushed and cajoled and did everything we could to encourage him to exercise, to build his strength back but he seemed to enjoy the attention he got by being sick.  The doctor was as frustrated as we were.  Daddy had always been a difficult man to reason with and now he became even worse.  Our only option was to stop doing those things that we knew he was capable of doing.  It was hard to do.  The guilt was hard to live with but we knew that NOT doing it would be worse for him.  


In the Spring of 2008 my brother died.  His health wasn't great but it was unexpected and it left only my sister and myself to take care of daddy.  Daddy has continued to get weaker and more frail as time has gone on. We do all of his cooking and I do the house keeping when I visit.  His decline has continued to the point where hospice is helping out.  (stilll more to come)

And now this....

The holiday (July 4) was this week.  The younger daughter and her husband have come to visit and because of having guests, the cat, Jhett the Rescue Kitty, has been sequestered in the laundry room/office.  I do this for 2 reasons... 1) I don't have to worry about her sneaking out the door if there is someone not looking and 2) I don't have to worry about offending anyone with her cat hair.  She doesn't seem to mind as long as I come around and visit with her and feed her on time.

It feels as if all we have done is eat, talk about eating or planned what to eat next.  I feel stuffed just thinking about it.  They're at the store now buying supplies to make homemade ice cream.

Back on the diet next week for sure.

Again.

For the 75th time.

An Explanation (Part 1)

You may notice from time to time that my posts are sporadic.  There are reasons for this.  Sometimes I just don't know what to say or lack inspiration.  At other times I'm away.  My daddy lives about 5 hours away and I go to visit him each month.  At almost 89, his health is very fragile.  My sister has moved in with him and takes care of his daily needs.  I come each month to give her a break and take care of cleaning, laundry, banking, and various other little chores.

My mother died 11 years ago and daddy has had a difficult time being alone since she has been gone.  This post might wind up being pretty long but I'm doing it as much for therapy as anything else, so please bear with my long-windedness.

My daddy is not an educated man.  He had to drop out of school in the 5th grade when his only brother got married and moved away and he was needed on the farm to help out.  His mother had died when he was 5 and there were 5 sisters at home.  His sisters doted on him and vied for his attention.  Their devotion must be what gave him so much self confidence and pride.

Since he left school so young, he was not able to read beyond the 5th grade level, in fact, it seemed at times that his ability wasn't quite at that level.  He seemed very uncomfortable and guarded in many public settings and I think this was because of his inability to read.  He was very dependent on mama to be his "eyes". Once he had been to a new place with someone who seemed to know the ropes, he was okay but it took a lot of coaxing to get him to try new things.  He preferred going to a cafeteria to eat because he had a hard time navigating the menu.  His interactions with people were pretty much limited to work, family and church and even in those areas he didn't forge close ties with anyone who didn't know of his inability to read well. As a result of this, his world was and is world very small.

Daddy was mechanically inclined and worked on an assembly line at a local plant.  He became a second shift lead man, a job that he was so proud of having and he should have been proud.  It was quite an accomplishment for him.  He enjoyed taking things apart, cleaning and refurbishing them and putting them back together so when a job opening in the "tool crib" came open, he was put in there where he took care of tools and assigned them to people.  He retired from that job after about 32 years with the company.

He was able to enjoy his retirement, working in his woodworking shop and repairing lawn mowers.  Then mama got sick and that exhausted everyone.  We all suffered with mama's slow death.  That in itself is another story but when God finally took her, daddy was left alone and while he could easily cook, clean house and take care of himself he was still alone and no longer had his "eyes" to look out for him.

Always Expect the Unexpected

Wow, what a week this has been!  We got one of those calls that absolutely fills you with dread....from one of our church members,  "I've been trying to call Mrs. ZZZZ all morning and can't reach her.  I told her I would drop something by first thing this morning but I can't reach her.  I've been to her house and there's no answer at the door."  This same Mrs.ZZZZ is a widow who is fiercely independent, lives alone and has had a number of falls.  She is VERY predictable and punctual and so it was unlike her not to be home if she was expecting someone to be at her house.  The Preacher and I headed to her house to check on her.  


We couldn't tell if her car was home but the house was locked up tight.  We contacted the Sheriff's office and they sent someone right over.  Then a parishoner came by, then another 3 deputies... then a neighbor who had Mrs. ZZZZ's daughters' name and phone number and also had Mrs. ZZZZ's house key.  The daughter said her mother wasn't with her and so the deputies decided to check in the house to see if maybe she'd had a fall and couldn't answer the door or phone.  We were all silently praying that the car would be gone and she would be out shopping or something like that.  They got into the house and opened the garage door from there.  As the door went up, my heart sank.... there was the car.  I then waited for the deputies to come out of the house, fearing the worst.  


The deputies  finally came out and said she was NOT in there.  They had searched everywhere.  Apparently Mrs. ZZZZ was away with someone and had forgotten that someone was coming by that morning.  We let the daughter know what we had found and to let us know if she heard anything.  An hour or so later the phone at the parsonage rang and it was Mrs. ZZZZ saying that she was back at home and safe.  She had been called away early that morning to assist a friend and thought it was too early to make any phone calls to let people know she would be away.  She apologized for worrying everyone but was very pleased to know that she was so much loved.  


Love one another.  Sounds like a good thing to do.  


"A new command I give you: Love one another.  As I have loved you, so you must love one another.  By this everyone will know you are my disciples, if you love one another."     John 13:34-35

The Perils of the Pauline

Living in a church parsonage has been a totally new experience for me.  The house we live in sits right across from the view you see at the top of my home page here.  We have a beautiful view at all times of the year.  Sunrises are spectacular and moon rises reflected on the water are always mesmerizing.  Our church holds sunrise services at Easter right on this spot where the photo was taken.  Tropical storms, hurricanes and Nor'easters also like to make appearances from time to time and we're on front line for receiving their fury.  Sometimes schools have to close because of the weather and believe it or not, the Nor'easters are often worse than the tropical storms.  They have a tendency to hang around for days while they trap you inside and blow the rain horizontally at you.  It's quite an experience.  We've learned some of the basics for storm preparation and have actually evacuated once.  


We have a lovely, lush lawn and plants that grow like nobody's business.  The man who built this house grew camellias and all around the yard are camellias of every color and type.  They are gorgeous!  There is also a gardenia by the back gate.  Every time I pass by it I'm reminded of my mother who always wore gardenia perfume.  This is a swamp area so if you put a toothpick into the dirt, it's going to take root and spread like an army of invaders, covering every surface, vertical or horizontal, with leaves growing from stems as big as your fist.   

The first summer we were here we (The Preacher) killed 3 snakes.  One was a pygmy rattlesnake that had found a resting place over the front door jamb.  When the door was opened, he fell to the ground and immediately became a mean, aggressive little fellow, coiling up to strike.  The Preacher grabbed a broom and kept him at a safe distance until I could get there with a shovel.  Luckily for us, the woodlands have plenty of animals, including a family of feral cats that seem to be keeping the snakes at bay.  At the edge of the woods and in the yard we have seen opossums, gray foxes, and rabbits.  Nearby we have seen eagles, hawks, bobcats, wild boar, black bears, deer, ospreys, herons... the wildlife list goes on and on.

The beauty and wonder God's creation are abundant here but you always have to be on the lookout for danger and not let your guard down.   "The wise are cautious and avoid danger, fools plunge ahead with great confidence." (Proverbs 14:16)

Allegiance

We've only been married  3 years and I was almost 52 when we got married so this whole Preacher's Wife thing really is a different thing for me.  I grew up in the Baptist Church and felt so out of place there.  As an adult, I joined the Episcopal Church and felt that I had found my home.  I still feel that way and for that same reason, I resist leaving the church and joining the Methodist Church.   I have my own ideas about God and Christ and my relationship with them and theirs with the world.  I really feel that at its core, my allegiance is to God and not to the governance of His body on earth.  


While I attend church with my husband every week, it still gives me a thrill when we are able to attend an Episcopal service.  Just a few weeks ago we were in Williamsburg and went to the Bruton Parish for Evensong.  I think it's the reverence and majesty of it all that touches me.  The focus is entirely on God, not me or you or the person across the aisle.  I alway leave feeling as if my soul has been soothed by the hand of God.  Sometimes I almost ache for it.

"O my God that I had understanding and learning and a new language in order to magnify Thy works... Everything fails me, O my Lord, but if Thou will not abandon me, I will never fail Thee."             St. Teresa of Avila,  1515-1582

A Little Time Away is Good for the Soul

Last week was annual conference in Raleigh.  The Preacher always dreads it but he has been attending it most of his life.  To be honest, I'm just glad to get a few days away from home and work.  I spent time finding local art galleries and book stores and just resting and overeating.  I had a great time.

The Front of Flanders Gallery on Martin St. - Yarn Bombed

http://www.flandersartgallery.com/

After conference, we went north to Richmond.  Now, I'm a Southern Girl through and through, so on the way to Richmond, we stopped in Petersburg and saw the battlefields.  Wow... interesting and amazing stuff for sure.  


I had never been to Richmond other than driving through on my way to somewhere else.  What a beautiful city !  We stayed downtown by the convention center.  It was really nice.  We drove around and saw some of the Confederate monuments out near VCU.  They really were impressive.  You can tell that the South really reveres its history. 


On Sunday morning (6/ 17), after we checked out, we went to the Museum of the Confederacy and the Confederate White house.  Again, I was impressed and was somewhat amused at the humble folk who were there to see both.  I'm sure they are proud of their heritage, as am I.  Maybe in different ways, though.

I don't consider myself one of those closet racists.  I don't believe for a minute that slavery was right, then or now.  The Confederacy was a part of my heritage and there's nothing I can do to change that.  My ancestors fought for the South - can't change that either.  They believed they were doing the right thing and were willing to die for it.  Not many people today are willing to die for anything.  They aren't willing to sacrifice anything, heck, they can't even deny themselves a piece of pie.  Why shouldn't I be proud of my heritage?


The fellow who led our tour through the Confederate Whitehouse was a wonderful guide (african-american). He was very enthusiastic and so knowledgeable about the house, grounds and Jefferson.  If he doesn't love working there, he has me fooled.


What really was amazing about the place is that the UVA Medical center absolutely SURROUNDS both buildings.  We almost couldn't find the place for all of the medical center buildings!


Anyway, after that we went to have lunch down near the James River.  We ate at a cute little place called Arcadia.  We parked near a building that had a mural painted on its side.

Then I remembered that my friend Coppertide lives in Richmond and she had posted the same building!

Went to the Edgar Allen Poe museum - learned that he had lived in Richmond with an Aunt after his mother died.  It was a very cute little place that was spread out over 4 little buildings.  There was a lot to see and the gift shop was a HOOT!

One thing that  I found most impressive with the city was how clean it was.  I told the preacher that it was as if they knew we were coming so they cleaned up.  I appreciate that!  The other thing was how they seem to hang on to buildings and not bulldoze them to put up some shiny monstrosity.  There are still many quaint little storefronts and I picked out several that I could easily live with.  They remind me of the Arts District where I used to work.  

What a nice weekend!

Back to the Basics

The Preacher suggested that I go and paint with one of the parishoners who is homebound as "my ministry".   I did it although I'm not really sure how that qualifies as a ministry since we don't pray or do bible study while I'm there.  The whole ministry concept is sort of foreign to me because I have sort of viewed ministry as trying to persuade someone to come around to your way of believing.  If it is simply being kind to someone and spending time with them, I've been doing that all my life.  

This one is simply a confabulation of flowers outside my "studio" window.

This one is a real place.... guess where/what it is...

The Plunge

I used to think I would like to be a writer.  I spent hours writing and would occasionally share my work.  Then circumstances forced me to abandon writing for pleasure and instead I went back to college and began writing for grades.  I still enjoyed it.    Periodically I've tried to write again and again but the busyness of life and my overall lack of discipline has kept me from coming up with anything of substance.  


I'm going to try again again.... starting tomorrow.