We're here in Savannah at the Hampton Inn in the historic district on Bay St. We have very nice adjoining rooms which make our stay more enjoyable because we're all together. Hannah got a little weary of the drive but Summer was excited and talked all the way here. I think if I described the drive in two words they would be "happy chaos." We finally arrived in town about 5:30 after an enthusiastic and fun drive here.
We got settled into our rooms and then we walked around the River Walk for a short time. We enjoyed a trio of street performers singing This Little Light of Mine and Amazing Grace in Motown style (the sound of my youth in a Detroit suburb). Afterward, we had a nice dinner at an authentic English pub and walked back to the hotel in a little rain.
Tomorrow we have plans to check out a Savannah cemetery and tour an old mansion if the weather allows. The forecast doesn't look too good right now but we've got umbrellas and ponchos if we need them. It doesn't really matter too much about the rain. A little of the wet stuff never hurt anyone and none of us are made of sugar so there's no danger of melting here.
Our breakfast is complimentary at the hotel so we are planning to be downstairs in the breakfast room about 9:00 a.m. to fuel up for the day we have planned. Summer can hardly stand waiting for each next new thing. Even our trip to the ice machine brought giggles and skipping down the hall to the ice and vending alcove. Her enthusiasm is contagious and she keeps all of us laughing at her energy and her antics.
I am so thankful to the Lord for this time with my girls. We have no real schedule and no hard and fast rules about what we're going to do while we're here. It's our time to relax and just hang out together. We're having a blast seizing the day.
Father, I love you so much and am grateful for time with my girls. Thank you. You are good to me.
Suz
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Friday, March 27, 2009
this good day
What a gorgeous day we're having today! We have sunshine, breezes, and warmth. The squirrels were digging up acorns in my front yard this morning and this afternoon the neighborhood hawk is screaming as he circles overhead. There's no school today. My house is clean and I'm almost done with the laundry. I get to spend time with my granddaughters this evening while Holly and Tony go out on a date and Byron is having a great time turkey hunting in North Florida.
The Lord is in His heaven and all is right with the world.
Thank you, Lord for your blessings to me. I love you so very much.
Suz
PS
What a fun time I had with my granddaughters and Kayla tonight. Dinner at Longhorn, conversations about bullets, "distinct" dinosaurs, snipers at Walmart and how when God calls you (according to Summer) it's time to go to be with God--so you just go. Simple as that. Out of the mouths of babes. After Walmart we went to the girls' house and talked and laughed our guts out! After a while, Holly and Tony came in and we talked and laughed some more. This has been an uplifting day for me. It's the simple pleasures that make for my best day.
The Lord is in His heaven and all is right with the world.
Thank you, Lord for your blessings to me. I love you so very much.
Suz
PS
What a fun time I had with my granddaughters and Kayla tonight. Dinner at Longhorn, conversations about bullets, "distinct" dinosaurs, snipers at Walmart and how when God calls you (according to Summer) it's time to go to be with God--so you just go. Simple as that. Out of the mouths of babes. After Walmart we went to the girls' house and talked and laughed our guts out! After a while, Holly and Tony came in and we talked and laughed some more. This has been an uplifting day for me. It's the simple pleasures that make for my best day.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
a field trip to the cemetery
Kayla, Hannah and I went on a field trip this afternoon to the cemetery in our little town of Apopka. It was for a project Kayla is working on for her photography class at school. She needed to take a panoramic photo and she chose the cemetery where some of our closest family is buried: my dad, my mother and my sister are side by side there so it's a special place for us to visit.
Our town graveyard isn't new and shiny and perfect in every way with unbending rules about how a family member can or cannot show love and remembrance for their loved ones who have died. It's an old fashioned type cemetery where family and friends can fix up and decorate their plots any way they like. There are benches, fences, toys, Christmas trees, and lots of flowers-both faded and worn and beautiful ones that still look new. I love it for all it's eclectic beauty and, in some cases, unbridled gaudiness. I think if you pay $1,000.00 for a small plot of ground you ought to be able to dress it up any way you want to--and, so do a lot of people, it seems. There's a lot of dressing up going on down there.
While Kayla worked on her project and took her photos, Hannah and I also walked around and snapped a few pictures of the oldest headstones and ancient oak trees. Now, I know a lot of people are bothered by cemeteries and the whole issue of death itself but I love the peacefulness of walking among our departed ancestors and there's a good reason for it.
When I married Byron I married into a family who produced concrete crypts for mausoleums. They not only poured the crypts and delivered them to the job site, but Byron and his dad built mausoleums all over the state of Florida and a few in Georgia and Tennessee, so every time we went on any type of road trip we always took a tour through at least one cemetery to check out the buildings Byron and his dad had constructed. I grew to love those short jogs through the small town cemeteries, hearing the stories of the job and how it went so many years before. My family has a lot of good memories about a type of place many people dislike or even fear. Working in cemeteries put a roof over our head, clothes on our backs and food on our table for a very long time. It was a good thing.
Going there today, though, made me sad. So many headstones. Some new, some old, some for the elderly, some for the babies and children. Each one represented an entire circle of family and friends who grieve for him, or her. I saw where three members of my childhood family of six, were buried and tonight I'm sad. I miss my family and even though I know it will never happen in this lifetime, I want my family back. I want to joke with my dad. I want to talk to my mom. I'd even like to argue a little with my sister, Karla, or maybe just give her a hug and tell her one more time that I love her.
Grief hurts. It sneaks up on you and hits you right in the heart. Today I was snuck up on. My heart hurts. When I looked to the Lord for comfort I found these truths;
"He heals the brokenhearted and bandages their wounds...His understanding is beyond comprehension." Psalm 147:3, 5b
Oh Lord, tonight I am brokenhearted. Please bind my wounds. I love you.
Suz
Our town graveyard isn't new and shiny and perfect in every way with unbending rules about how a family member can or cannot show love and remembrance for their loved ones who have died. It's an old fashioned type cemetery where family and friends can fix up and decorate their plots any way they like. There are benches, fences, toys, Christmas trees, and lots of flowers-both faded and worn and beautiful ones that still look new. I love it for all it's eclectic beauty and, in some cases, unbridled gaudiness. I think if you pay $1,000.00 for a small plot of ground you ought to be able to dress it up any way you want to--and, so do a lot of people, it seems. There's a lot of dressing up going on down there.
While Kayla worked on her project and took her photos, Hannah and I also walked around and snapped a few pictures of the oldest headstones and ancient oak trees. Now, I know a lot of people are bothered by cemeteries and the whole issue of death itself but I love the peacefulness of walking among our departed ancestors and there's a good reason for it.
When I married Byron I married into a family who produced concrete crypts for mausoleums. They not only poured the crypts and delivered them to the job site, but Byron and his dad built mausoleums all over the state of Florida and a few in Georgia and Tennessee, so every time we went on any type of road trip we always took a tour through at least one cemetery to check out the buildings Byron and his dad had constructed. I grew to love those short jogs through the small town cemeteries, hearing the stories of the job and how it went so many years before. My family has a lot of good memories about a type of place many people dislike or even fear. Working in cemeteries put a roof over our head, clothes on our backs and food on our table for a very long time. It was a good thing.
Going there today, though, made me sad. So many headstones. Some new, some old, some for the elderly, some for the babies and children. Each one represented an entire circle of family and friends who grieve for him, or her. I saw where three members of my childhood family of six, were buried and tonight I'm sad. I miss my family and even though I know it will never happen in this lifetime, I want my family back. I want to joke with my dad. I want to talk to my mom. I'd even like to argue a little with my sister, Karla, or maybe just give her a hug and tell her one more time that I love her.
Grief hurts. It sneaks up on you and hits you right in the heart. Today I was snuck up on. My heart hurts. When I looked to the Lord for comfort I found these truths;
"He heals the brokenhearted and bandages their wounds...His understanding is beyond comprehension." Psalm 147:3, 5b
Oh Lord, tonight I am brokenhearted. Please bind my wounds. I love you.
Suz
Sunday, March 22, 2009
one week left
Pastor Gary asked us a question this morning in church. He asked, "What would you do if you knew you had only one week left to live?" Southern woman that I am, I immediately thought of the country song, "Live Like You Were Dying." It's on the same theme of how we'd do things, live life, tie up loose ends, etc. if we knew our time here on earth was severely limited. The pastor compared Jesus' last days before his crucifixion to how we should also live our lives even though we don't know the exact time of our death. It was a stirring sermon that gave me much to consider so I thought I'd play it out here for all of us in this post.
OK, I find out that I've got one week left to live. What's the first thing I do? I'm pretty sure I'd have to sit down because my knees would absolutely buckle on me. I know this is true because it's happened to me before when I got upsetting news. Yep, I'd sit down for sure. Next, I think I'd just sit there, stunned, and consider what I'd just found out and how it would affect me and then how it would affect those closest to me. This is when I would begin to be emotional about the Big News.
I'm not afraid of death. Really, I'm not. I absolutely trust the Lord that when my life here is done, I am going to be with Jesus in heaven. I stake my life--my eternity--in Jesus. What might frighten me some is how I am going to die. If I knew it was going to be painful or traumatic, I'd get nervous about it, but a peaceful death, not so much. Setting aside any fear about the manner in which I might leave this life, my biggest concern would be those I leave behind.
I love my family utterly. My husband, daughters, sons-in-law, grandchildren, siblings, aunts, cousins, nieces, nephews, and so on, and so on--and I would never leave out my dearest friends. I love them all. And I know they all love me. While I'd be joyful in heaven praising Jesus and doing what all the saints do there, my family and friends would be heartbroken and they'd miss me. The sting of death is painful and sad and heartrending to those left living here. I know. I have many family members and friends who have gone on ahead to heaven already and that's how I felt. This is probably when I'd cry good and hard for a while. Then, when the emotional storm ended, I'd begin to do what I could to prepare them.
So, remembering that I'd only have a week, what would I do help them with my leaving? I think the first thing I would do is to spend a day alone writing each one of my immediate family members and closest friends a personal letter telling him (or her) how special he (or she) is to me and I'd write about a particular memory I have with that person. Each letter would be completely unique to the person receiving it. I'd also share my hope in Jesus with each one and encourage her (or him) in the Lord. Although these letters would be emotionally exhausting to write because each one would be totally open and transparent with its recipient, it would be something tangible for my loved ones to hold in their hands after I'd died. Something we'd shared together. I'd truly lay my heart open in every letter.
The next thing I would do is invite my family and dearest friends to spend the rest of my time at my house. Now this is going to be chaos because my house isn't that big but I wouldn't mind. I'd want them all with me for the next six days. (I'm assuming, of course, I'm feeling fine and am able to do anything I want until I die.) I'd have alone time with each one that I'd written a letter to and read it to them privately sharing a personal good bye. There'd be rollaway beds and sleeping bags everywhere. Maybe we'd have to pitch a tent in the back yard. I really wouldn't care what we have to do to have everyone here. We'd cook. We'd order out. We'd talk. We'd pray. We'd take pictures and video. We'd tell stories. We'd reminisce. We'd laugh. We'd cry and we'd sequester ourselves away from the world and enjoy one another.
And then, when all had been said and done, and when my time was gone, we would have made memories to last a lifetime and I could only hope that what we'd done would help my loved ones deal with my sudden passing.
And that's about it. My Big Plan. I'm glad I got to think about "the last remaining week" today. It helped me focus on the truly critical things in my life. I determined that I don't want to travel somewhere exotic to see something I've never seen before. I don't want to party till the cows come home and there's no delicacy that I absolutely must try.
It's absolutely possible that I'm full of hot air on my Big Plan of what I think I'd do if I had a week left to live. Am I sure? Of course not. No one can know for sure, but, if it were my last week, my plans do cover all the most important things for me--to show my love for my family and friends and help them cope with my death by making good memories. I'd also want to share with them once again my love of Jesus and that we can trust His promise to prepare a place for us after this life is over.
I find such peace in the Bible about Jesus' preparation for us. He says, "Don't let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God and trust also in me. There is more than enough room in my Father's home. If this were not so, would I have told you that I am going to prepare a place for you?" John 14 :1-2
Whose words, whose promises can we trust if we do not trust the words of very God? I choose to trust him and I look forward to my time here with family and friends, but I am also looking forward to my time to come with Jesus in eternity--whenever it might be--a week--a year--a decade--or longer. That's the beauty of trusting the Lord. It's all right, all the time. It's all right here--or there. It's simply all right with Jesus. Period.
Father, only you know when that time for each one of us will come. That special time when you call us home to be with you throughout eternity in the place prepared just for us. Lord, it is exciting to think of it and how wonderful it will be some day. It is also exciting to think of life here on earth now with your ever present hand guiding us and helping us every day. Truth is, Lord, it's simply exciting to serve you wherever we are--on earth or in heaven. You are truly wonderful to us and we are grateful. I love you, dear Jesus. I love you. I love you.
Suz
OK, I find out that I've got one week left to live. What's the first thing I do? I'm pretty sure I'd have to sit down because my knees would absolutely buckle on me. I know this is true because it's happened to me before when I got upsetting news. Yep, I'd sit down for sure. Next, I think I'd just sit there, stunned, and consider what I'd just found out and how it would affect me and then how it would affect those closest to me. This is when I would begin to be emotional about the Big News.
I'm not afraid of death. Really, I'm not. I absolutely trust the Lord that when my life here is done, I am going to be with Jesus in heaven. I stake my life--my eternity--in Jesus. What might frighten me some is how I am going to die. If I knew it was going to be painful or traumatic, I'd get nervous about it, but a peaceful death, not so much. Setting aside any fear about the manner in which I might leave this life, my biggest concern would be those I leave behind.
I love my family utterly. My husband, daughters, sons-in-law, grandchildren, siblings, aunts, cousins, nieces, nephews, and so on, and so on--and I would never leave out my dearest friends. I love them all. And I know they all love me. While I'd be joyful in heaven praising Jesus and doing what all the saints do there, my family and friends would be heartbroken and they'd miss me. The sting of death is painful and sad and heartrending to those left living here. I know. I have many family members and friends who have gone on ahead to heaven already and that's how I felt. This is probably when I'd cry good and hard for a while. Then, when the emotional storm ended, I'd begin to do what I could to prepare them.
So, remembering that I'd only have a week, what would I do help them with my leaving? I think the first thing I would do is to spend a day alone writing each one of my immediate family members and closest friends a personal letter telling him (or her) how special he (or she) is to me and I'd write about a particular memory I have with that person. Each letter would be completely unique to the person receiving it. I'd also share my hope in Jesus with each one and encourage her (or him) in the Lord. Although these letters would be emotionally exhausting to write because each one would be totally open and transparent with its recipient, it would be something tangible for my loved ones to hold in their hands after I'd died. Something we'd shared together. I'd truly lay my heart open in every letter.
The next thing I would do is invite my family and dearest friends to spend the rest of my time at my house. Now this is going to be chaos because my house isn't that big but I wouldn't mind. I'd want them all with me for the next six days. (I'm assuming, of course, I'm feeling fine and am able to do anything I want until I die.) I'd have alone time with each one that I'd written a letter to and read it to them privately sharing a personal good bye. There'd be rollaway beds and sleeping bags everywhere. Maybe we'd have to pitch a tent in the back yard. I really wouldn't care what we have to do to have everyone here. We'd cook. We'd order out. We'd talk. We'd pray. We'd take pictures and video. We'd tell stories. We'd reminisce. We'd laugh. We'd cry and we'd sequester ourselves away from the world and enjoy one another.
And then, when all had been said and done, and when my time was gone, we would have made memories to last a lifetime and I could only hope that what we'd done would help my loved ones deal with my sudden passing.
And that's about it. My Big Plan. I'm glad I got to think about "the last remaining week" today. It helped me focus on the truly critical things in my life. I determined that I don't want to travel somewhere exotic to see something I've never seen before. I don't want to party till the cows come home and there's no delicacy that I absolutely must try.
It's absolutely possible that I'm full of hot air on my Big Plan of what I think I'd do if I had a week left to live. Am I sure? Of course not. No one can know for sure, but, if it were my last week, my plans do cover all the most important things for me--to show my love for my family and friends and help them cope with my death by making good memories. I'd also want to share with them once again my love of Jesus and that we can trust His promise to prepare a place for us after this life is over.
I find such peace in the Bible about Jesus' preparation for us. He says, "Don't let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God and trust also in me. There is more than enough room in my Father's home. If this were not so, would I have told you that I am going to prepare a place for you?" John 14 :1-2
Whose words, whose promises can we trust if we do not trust the words of very God? I choose to trust him and I look forward to my time here with family and friends, but I am also looking forward to my time to come with Jesus in eternity--whenever it might be--a week--a year--a decade--or longer. That's the beauty of trusting the Lord. It's all right, all the time. It's all right here--or there. It's simply all right with Jesus. Period.
Father, only you know when that time for each one of us will come. That special time when you call us home to be with you throughout eternity in the place prepared just for us. Lord, it is exciting to think of it and how wonderful it will be some day. It is also exciting to think of life here on earth now with your ever present hand guiding us and helping us every day. Truth is, Lord, it's simply exciting to serve you wherever we are--on earth or in heaven. You are truly wonderful to us and we are grateful. I love you, dear Jesus. I love you. I love you.
Suz
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
quiet insides
I've never been a very quiet girl in situations where I was comfortable. As a pre-teen, when I spent the night with Alice or Rosemary, we always got into trouble for being loud or too giggly for way too long before we went to sleep. Even though we all got fussed at, I was usually the instigator in keeping the fun ball rolling. I never wanted the party to end.
As a teen I was the loud girl laughing way too much at something funny, especially when there were boys around. Yes, I was that girl. As an adult, I gained a reputation for becoming extremely silly after 10pm. I was the loud one laughing way too hard but having a blast anyway--and none of this had anything to do with partying. I've never been a drinker of alcoholic beverages--it was totally au natural. Sometimes I wish I could have blamed it on something, anything but my own personality!
Now, please understand, I can still laugh a bluestreak if the mood strikes me just right and the humor is just the least bit skewed--and I'm not talking about a little "tee-hee"--I'm talking loud, braying, hee-haws that take my breath away and make my eyes water. It's not a pretty sound or sight! I said all that to say this: Despite my reputation for raucous laughter in social situations, I've felt quiet lately--on the inside. I know many of you won't believe it, but it's true. Really.
There have been some things, some issues, some challenges going on recently that have me thinking a lot about them. Many of them are matters that I am not at liberty to share with the whole world, so I can't be more specific. There are not a lot of guffaws (I do love that word!), but everything is all right anyhow. My quiet inside is contemplative, yet peaceful. I've shared each of my concerns with the Lord and even though I don't know the end of the story for each care, I do know who is the Lord of the concern and it will be all right however it turns out.
Praise the Lord for He has heard my cry for mercy. The Lord is my strength and shield. I trust Him with all my heart. He helps me, and my heart is filled with joy. I burst out in songs of thanksgiving. Psalms 28:6-7.
My inner little girl, the very loud one, has hushed for the moment and it's a beautiful thing.
Lord, thank you, for hearing me when I call. Thank you for helping me and filling my heart with joy. I love you so very much.
Suz
As a teen I was the loud girl laughing way too much at something funny, especially when there were boys around. Yes, I was that girl. As an adult, I gained a reputation for becoming extremely silly after 10pm. I was the loud one laughing way too hard but having a blast anyway--and none of this had anything to do with partying. I've never been a drinker of alcoholic beverages--it was totally au natural. Sometimes I wish I could have blamed it on something, anything but my own personality!
Now, please understand, I can still laugh a bluestreak if the mood strikes me just right and the humor is just the least bit skewed--and I'm not talking about a little "tee-hee"--I'm talking loud, braying, hee-haws that take my breath away and make my eyes water. It's not a pretty sound or sight! I said all that to say this: Despite my reputation for raucous laughter in social situations, I've felt quiet lately--on the inside. I know many of you won't believe it, but it's true. Really.
There have been some things, some issues, some challenges going on recently that have me thinking a lot about them. Many of them are matters that I am not at liberty to share with the whole world, so I can't be more specific. There are not a lot of guffaws (I do love that word!), but everything is all right anyhow. My quiet inside is contemplative, yet peaceful. I've shared each of my concerns with the Lord and even though I don't know the end of the story for each care, I do know who is the Lord of the concern and it will be all right however it turns out.
Praise the Lord for He has heard my cry for mercy. The Lord is my strength and shield. I trust Him with all my heart. He helps me, and my heart is filled with joy. I burst out in songs of thanksgiving. Psalms 28:6-7.
My inner little girl, the very loud one, has hushed for the moment and it's a beautiful thing.
Lord, thank you, for hearing me when I call. Thank you for helping me and filling my heart with joy. I love you so very much.
Suz
Thursday, March 12, 2009
old journals
I grabbed an old composition book the other day to make a grocery list in and was surprised to find that it contained a few pages of a journal that I started in June of 1990! Before I go any further about what it contained, I must explain my way of journaling: I begin many journals, all with the best of intentions about doing it faithfully.Trouble is, it never quite seems to work that way. I usually do it for about five or six days or one or two days--whatever strikes my fancy--and then I quit to begin another, on a different day or month, in a different notebook, etc., etc. I've told my girls that when I die and they go through my old essays, notebooks, and papers they will find a few pages here, or a few pages there of my written ramblings and that they should not be surprised too much about it.
Anyway, back to the June 1990 journal-- As one would expect, many things have changed in those nineteen years. At that time I was 37 years old and was the mother of two teen girls. My days were filled with volunteer work at our church's food pantry and my friend Lillian and I were working 5 days a week gathering food, shopping, giving out food to those needing it and witnessing to each one we helped. It was a pretty big operation for the two of us but we had a few faithful helpers who pitched in when we needed it.
My dad was still living then and I often stopped by the house to see him after a day's work at the church. He'd already had his first stroke and it was difficult to communicate with him but we both tried and sometimes we even made a little progress. Most of the time we just sat together and watched television or had a snack. My mom was his primary caregiver and it was often tough for her but she never gave up and never let my dad go lacking for anything. She was an excellent role model for taking care of someone you love who needs help and I think it was partly her example that showed me the way to care for her in her later years.
I prayed a lot that month for my little 12 yr old cousin who was in a serious car accident. She had life-threatening head injuries and we asked the Lord to touch her, to heal her and for her to be normal and He said, "Yes." Jessica is now a grown, married woman with a lovely life in Georgia and she knows the Lord healed her.
Another time our food pantry was very low on canned goods and we were going to have to use some of our limited funds to purchase them. Lillian and I prayed and asked the Lord to meet our need for food and it was only a short time before someone named Margie and Ron brought us 3 boxes full of canned goods and then Joe and a couple of his buddies from Loaves and Fishes came by and gave us their surplus of a truckful of canned goods! How great is that!
Nineteen years can't pass without a lot of changes--and there were a lot of changes. Our 13 goats have come and gone. I have been to university and earned my bachelor's degree in English. Our beautiful daughters grew up and are now married and we have 3 gorgeous grandchildren and two great sons-in-law. We have 3 cute pups that we love dearly. Kayla wasn't even born yet and now she's seventeen and lives with us. We've been on many mission trips and have learned to love people all over the world. I was thin then and I'm not so thin now. We weren't at Glad Tidings Church then, but we are now and are happy there.
I was also pleasantly surprised to notice some similarities in my writing then and now. When I wrote in my journal then I was grateful to the Lord for his blessings to us--and I am grateful to Him now. I prayed when I wrote then--I pray when I write now. The Lord was good then. The Lord is good now.
I miss a lot of people that were in my life then but have since died. My dad had a couple more strokes two weeks before Christmas and died on December 24th of that year and Aunt Shirley, Aunt Reva, Uncle Bill, my cousin Sondra, Mom and my sister Karla all died since then, as well as a host of other relatives, friends, and acquaintances. Many of whom I look forward to seeing again when the Lord comes or when I die.
Some things change. Some things remain the same. It blesses my heart to no end to read how faithful the Lord was to me back in June and July of 1990. I see how faithful He was and realize that His faithfulness is neverending. He will hold me in the palm of His hand forever. I will not be alone. I will always have Him in times of ease and plenty as well as those times of hurt and sorrow and need. If there's one main truth that I see it's that the Lord is trustworthy to His children. He is faithful to us beyond measure.
As I read through my old journal's pages I thought of a song we used to sing in church:
"Every day with Jesus is sweeter than the day before.
Every day with Jesus I love Him more and more.
Jesus saves and keeps me and He's the one I'm waiting for.
Every day with Jesus is sweeter than the day before."
Father, thank you for your faithfulness to me . Every day with You is sweeter than the day before. I love you. I love you. I love you!
Suz
Anyway, back to the June 1990 journal-- As one would expect, many things have changed in those nineteen years. At that time I was 37 years old and was the mother of two teen girls. My days were filled with volunteer work at our church's food pantry and my friend Lillian and I were working 5 days a week gathering food, shopping, giving out food to those needing it and witnessing to each one we helped. It was a pretty big operation for the two of us but we had a few faithful helpers who pitched in when we needed it.
My dad was still living then and I often stopped by the house to see him after a day's work at the church. He'd already had his first stroke and it was difficult to communicate with him but we both tried and sometimes we even made a little progress. Most of the time we just sat together and watched television or had a snack. My mom was his primary caregiver and it was often tough for her but she never gave up and never let my dad go lacking for anything. She was an excellent role model for taking care of someone you love who needs help and I think it was partly her example that showed me the way to care for her in her later years.
I prayed a lot that month for my little 12 yr old cousin who was in a serious car accident. She had life-threatening head injuries and we asked the Lord to touch her, to heal her and for her to be normal and He said, "Yes." Jessica is now a grown, married woman with a lovely life in Georgia and she knows the Lord healed her.
Another time our food pantry was very low on canned goods and we were going to have to use some of our limited funds to purchase them. Lillian and I prayed and asked the Lord to meet our need for food and it was only a short time before someone named Margie and Ron brought us 3 boxes full of canned goods and then Joe and a couple of his buddies from Loaves and Fishes came by and gave us their surplus of a truckful of canned goods! How great is that!
Nineteen years can't pass without a lot of changes--and there were a lot of changes. Our 13 goats have come and gone. I have been to university and earned my bachelor's degree in English. Our beautiful daughters grew up and are now married and we have 3 gorgeous grandchildren and two great sons-in-law. We have 3 cute pups that we love dearly. Kayla wasn't even born yet and now she's seventeen and lives with us. We've been on many mission trips and have learned to love people all over the world. I was thin then and I'm not so thin now. We weren't at Glad Tidings Church then, but we are now and are happy there.
I was also pleasantly surprised to notice some similarities in my writing then and now. When I wrote in my journal then I was grateful to the Lord for his blessings to us--and I am grateful to Him now. I prayed when I wrote then--I pray when I write now. The Lord was good then. The Lord is good now.
I miss a lot of people that were in my life then but have since died. My dad had a couple more strokes two weeks before Christmas and died on December 24th of that year and Aunt Shirley, Aunt Reva, Uncle Bill, my cousin Sondra, Mom and my sister Karla all died since then, as well as a host of other relatives, friends, and acquaintances. Many of whom I look forward to seeing again when the Lord comes or when I die.
Some things change. Some things remain the same. It blesses my heart to no end to read how faithful the Lord was to me back in June and July of 1990. I see how faithful He was and realize that His faithfulness is neverending. He will hold me in the palm of His hand forever. I will not be alone. I will always have Him in times of ease and plenty as well as those times of hurt and sorrow and need. If there's one main truth that I see it's that the Lord is trustworthy to His children. He is faithful to us beyond measure.
As I read through my old journal's pages I thought of a song we used to sing in church:
"Every day with Jesus is sweeter than the day before.
Every day with Jesus I love Him more and more.
Jesus saves and keeps me and He's the one I'm waiting for.
Every day with Jesus is sweeter than the day before."
Father, thank you for your faithfulness to me . Every day with You is sweeter than the day before. I love you. I love you. I love you!
Suz
Sunday, March 8, 2009
snowball fights and cheerful hearts
Byron and I went to Tennessee last week with our friends Leslie and Steve. We not only got to have a few days of R & R but we also had the unexpected treat of a genuine snowfall the day we arrived.
After we did a little grocery shopping for breakfast supplies, we drove around checking out the fluffy white stuff that was piling up all over town. And, guess what we did the first chance we got. You guessed it. We had a snowball fight. Yep. A fight of the snowball kind. It was the first one I'd been in for many, many...many...years and it was a blast! The snow was great. It was wet enough that it held together perfectly even though I was a lousy shot with my round, white ammo. I tried valiantly to whap Byron and Steve without much success but I did get a few good ones on Leslie as she did on me. What a great time we had! Funny but I don't remember having that much fun as a kid with snowball fights. The snow got a couple of inches deep and made everything beautiful. Even though it was March, it felt like Christmas.
We had a few great days away from responsibility and I laughed more and relaxed more in those few days than I've done in a long time. The Bible says, A cheerful heart does good like a medicine...Proverbs 17:22. It's not that laughter and a merry heart do away with the often harsh reality of life or monotony of daily responsibility, but they rather soften reality's edges and put it into a more balanced perspective. It's hard for me to get flustered at some insignificant inconvenience when I am cheerful or when I have laughed until I'm physically tired.
On a deeper level, when our hearts are cheerful, we have peace and when we have peace, our hearts feel free to be cheerful. When I allow my problems to become His, I can relax and enjoy life. That's when my heart rests in the Lord. That's when my stressors are in His hands. When my sorrows lie in His lap, and my pain is in his control, my heart breathes a deep sigh of relief. It's then that I am truly free. Do I always and in every tough situation find myself in this place of peace? No, because I am still learning to release the grip of "mine" to the Lord. He will not rip my heartaches from my tight grasp. He wants me to give them to him willingly, in trust, believing that He is faithful to handle every sorrow or trouble. The Lord is so patient with me.
Father, thank you so much for the fun time we had with our friends last week. I loved the beautiful snowfall and the down time with people I love. Your timing is always perfect. Thank you for peace that passes all understanding. I love you utterly.
Suz
After we did a little grocery shopping for breakfast supplies, we drove around checking out the fluffy white stuff that was piling up all over town. And, guess what we did the first chance we got. You guessed it. We had a snowball fight. Yep. A fight of the snowball kind. It was the first one I'd been in for many, many...many...years and it was a blast! The snow was great. It was wet enough that it held together perfectly even though I was a lousy shot with my round, white ammo. I tried valiantly to whap Byron and Steve without much success but I did get a few good ones on Leslie as she did on me. What a great time we had! Funny but I don't remember having that much fun as a kid with snowball fights. The snow got a couple of inches deep and made everything beautiful. Even though it was March, it felt like Christmas.
We had a few great days away from responsibility and I laughed more and relaxed more in those few days than I've done in a long time. The Bible says, A cheerful heart does good like a medicine...Proverbs 17:22. It's not that laughter and a merry heart do away with the often harsh reality of life or monotony of daily responsibility, but they rather soften reality's edges and put it into a more balanced perspective. It's hard for me to get flustered at some insignificant inconvenience when I am cheerful or when I have laughed until I'm physically tired.
On a deeper level, when our hearts are cheerful, we have peace and when we have peace, our hearts feel free to be cheerful. When I allow my problems to become His, I can relax and enjoy life. That's when my heart rests in the Lord. That's when my stressors are in His hands. When my sorrows lie in His lap, and my pain is in his control, my heart breathes a deep sigh of relief. It's then that I am truly free. Do I always and in every tough situation find myself in this place of peace? No, because I am still learning to release the grip of "mine" to the Lord. He will not rip my heartaches from my tight grasp. He wants me to give them to him willingly, in trust, believing that He is faithful to handle every sorrow or trouble. The Lord is so patient with me.
Father, thank you so much for the fun time we had with our friends last week. I loved the beautiful snowfall and the down time with people I love. Your timing is always perfect. Thank you for peace that passes all understanding. I love you utterly.
Suz
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