Wednesday, July 31, 2013

If curiosity killed the cat then I'm never going to die!

I never had much curiosity as a kid.  At age 7 when my Grandpa Kidd told me he kept all his money in his wooden leg, I didn't question it and didn't ask him how he got his wooden leg. I wasn't curious how it happened, why it happened or even when it happened. It wasn't that it seemed so normal to me that I thought everyone else's grandpa had a wooden leg, I just knew mine did.  That's just the way it was and I was ok with it.

I was 9 when my mom told us girls we were going to have another sister or a baby brother.  There were no questions about how or why and not even a question about when he or she would arrive.  It would come when it would come.  I figured it "just happened," because Mama and Daddy were married, so when Mama packed her hospital suitcase and placed baby clothes in it, I did ask her why she was bringing them.  She told me they were for the baby to wear home.  I asked her why didn't she just bring it home in the clothes it was born in...Yes, I really asked her that question.  I remember it well because my mother didn't usually laugh a lot but that question had her laughing out loud!

If something was too difficult for me to understand or simply didn't make sense to me, my brain glazed over and I didn't try to figure it out or even picture it in my mind.  That phase lasted quite a while until I was a teen, then I started knowing everything!  My understanding of life and how it worked came crystal clear!  I was a genius and authority on just about everything!  Some would call it by another name...obnoxious.  I'm embarrassed to say that this knowledgeable time lasted quite a while.  At least until I was about 30 years old and then I started realizing maybe I wasn't so smart after all.  Maybe I didn't have all the answers.  Maybe, just maybe, I still had a lot of growing up to do.  Looking back, now I say that's when I really started to know something and that something was that I DID NOT know everything.

To my surprise, it was a wonderful discovery!  Knowing everything, having the right opinion on each and every issue in the world is a lot of pressure and it will make you weary really fast!  This epiphany wasn't an overnight deal, but slowly, I started asking more questions and listening more.  I was pleasantly surprised to discover there are some really intelligent people out in the world and that I could learn something from them if I was of a mind to do it.

My husband got smarter and wiser.  My mother was smarter and had great experiences to share.  What a great thing!  I kept getting less and less adamant about my opinions and life became less black and white.  Shades of gray issues prompted me to consider and ponder issues from both sides of an argument.  I didn't only listen more, I heard more.  This phase continued on for many years until I started working on my college degree at 42 because I realized just how much I didn't know.

In my college classes I learned to think critically about things and I learned that it is ok to hear a differing opinion and consider what the other person is saying.  It isn't a sin to open my ears to issues I may not necessarily agree with.  I know where my faith lies and am determined to cling to the Lord but still allow myself to grow intellectually and academically.

Now that I am older I often jokingly say, "I used to know stuff and now I don't know anything," but I am secure in my faith and morals and beliefs and I will listen to others and try to see things from their standpoint.  A former pastor once told us in service that, "I can learn something from everyone I meet," and it makes sense.  I've only walked in my shoes.  Your life has been different than mine.  There is something I can definitely learn from you and I'd like to know what it is.

I still don't have much curiosity about things and the way they work if they don't interest me beforehand.  In a spiritual vein, I'm not one of those people who always has to know why things happen like they do.  Of course, there are times I'm perplexed about why life is like it is.  Why do bad things happen to good people and vice versa?  Why are some prayers are answered "Yes," and others "No," and why does life often seem so unfair, but I'm not stymied over not knowing.

I find great peace in knowing I don't have to know everything.  That the Lord has everything under control and that He is well equipped to handle it all.  Now that takes a load off my mind!  He is faithful to us, His children.  There is nothing too hard for Him.  There is nothing too small to tell Him about.  He cares about it all.  When situations arise that I don't understand, I take comfort that it's more than I can handle and that it's in His hands.

The Lord says it so well himself, "I leave you peace; my peace I give you.  I do not give it as the world does, So don't let your hearts be troubled or afraid." John 14:27 

Thank you, Jesus for your comforting words. Our lives here are harsh and hurtful and we are often desperate for peace and reassurance of your love.  I need to hear them and keep them close to my heart so I am reminded of your tender loving care for us and your powerful hand that takes such good care of us.  I love you!

Suz

















  

















Wednesday, May 22, 2013

remembering

Pole Bridge Baptist Cemetery
We went on an adventure this week to a small cemetery near our home in Alabama.  We would have never known  it was there except for a small sign someone put up last year at the road's beginning.  I've wanted to go there ever since the sign appeared.

The road was clay and rock and not too difficult to navigate even though the hills and curves were a little challenging at times. There were several roads off the main one that led up into the hills, each one gated and locked.  We passed no other cars and saw no other people as we traversed upward and onward to the goal, Pole Bridge Baptist Church Cemetery.

The cemetery is up on the side of a small hill and has many graves and markers for such a small place.  Weeds and wildflowers have nearly taken over the place and the tops of the headstones and markers are visible through the tall greenery.  There are a few modern headstones and monuments as well as many field rocks and  homemade concrete markers that, when they are legible, give a name and dates of birth and death.  A few of the graves have collapsed in on themselves but mostly, they seem intact.

As I walked up the hill, reading headstones and markers I was overcome with emotion.  Maybe it was because of the seemingly hidden place of the graveyard, perhaps it was the state of disrepair that had befallen these memorials, or maybe it was because these people, mothers, fathers, infants, who had lived and died in our small community seemed forgotten by their whole world.  Each field stone, each marker, represented a life that lived, was loved, died and now all remnants of this life had nearly disappeared.

Daniel Hagan who was born in 1791 and died in 1875 at 84 years old, was a veteran of the War of 1812 as part of Alexander's Battalion of Rifleman Georgia Millitia.  Amazing!  I'm sure he had great stories to tell his children and grandchildren.

I thought of the baby girl, Vicie Viola Bryant, who was stillborn or died the same day she was born in March 1912.  How heartbroken her mother and father must have been.  All their hopes and dreams for their child, dashed.  Her life was over before it got started.

Little Susie Mae Webber was born March 25, 1912 and died October 24, 1914was 2 1/2 when she died.  Was it illness or an untimely accident that took her life so soon?  I imagine Susie Mae's mother worked hard to take care of her family, perhaps working on the farm or in the garden each spring and fall.  She prepared food for the winter by canning or drying it for the family even when she was pregnant.  She cooked and sewed and took care of her husband and other children despite the sheer fatigue she endured.  I'm sure she was proud of her family, proud of her little girl.  Maybe Susie got sick and just couldn't get over it, or perhaps she was injured on their farm.  She might have been bitten by a snake or drowned in a pond.  The list of dangers in the country is long.

Mr Hagan will be remembered in military records and by his family proud of his service those many years ago, but what of the children who died so young, but what about the mothers who underwent severe hardship back in 1912 to birth their babies only to have them die before they could live even one day, like precious Vicie?  Who will remember these little girls and their hard working mothers and fathers when their only memorial is overgrown and forgotten on a small, lonely hill back in the woods of Alabama?

"Before I shaped you in the womb, I knew all about you.  Before you saw the light of day, I had holy plans for you..."  Jerimiah 1:5  The Lord knew all the people buried in Pole Bridge Baptist Cemetery even before they were born and He surely knew them all their lives, whether it was 84 fully lived years or 2 1/2 years or even a day.  We are, each one of us, important to him, and He remembers.

Now that I've found their final resting place, I will remember, too.  I will visit their graves when I have opportunity.  I will clean around their headstones and put wildflowers on their graves and I will remember the people who lived in this beautiful Talladega forest trying to live their lives the best they knew how.

Suz






Saturday, May 11, 2013

realizations

I'm feeling peaceful tonight for the first time in a while.  I'm not going to question it with "Why" and "What's next?"  My heart is calm, my spirit is light, and even though not much has changed, I'm going to enjoy it.  There's something comforting about today.  Maybe I read just the right inspirational quote.  Maybe  my perspective is shifting to a  more positive one.  Maybe the Lord is simply answering prayer.

Please understand, today has still had its challenges.  I haven't been in a calm state all day long.  I don't think I've ever been in a calm state a whole day in my whole life.  I'm tightly wired in many ways, but this evening after spending time with good friends, it just seems like my view of issues is clearing up and I'm settling in to accept a few things and hold tightly to others.

I have limitations.
No matter how perfect I want something to go, it may not happen perfectly, but it will still be OK.
While I may have influence in some areas, people will do what they will do.
I can only control how I act or react.
With the Lord as my helper, I will get through anything this life delivers.
My family is absolutely precious to me.
I am completely blessed.
If nothing ever changes for the good here on Earth, one day I will be in heaven and all this will fade away.
Jesus is my truest friend.

And, that's it.  It's been a good day and a good evening.  The Lord is in his heaven and all's right with the world.  Thank you, Jesus.  I love you.

Suzanne    

Monday, March 25, 2013

Popeye the Protector

I was about 7 years old when my mother told me there was going to be a new cartoon on at 6pm that night.  It was called, "Popeye."   She said I'd love it and I did!  My new cartoon hero was wonderful!  He was a good guy sailor, with a girlfriend named Olive Oyl.  He loved her and took care of her.  They had fun together, that is until Bluto came along and wrecked everything!

Bluto was a bully of the worst kind.  He wanted Olive Oyl to be his girlfriend and sometimes she was foolish enough to spend time with him.  She was foolish because Bluto treated her badly.  That usually caused a fight between the two men and Bluto with his brute strength would eventually overpower the small, but tough sailor-man--that is until Popeye got his hands on a can of spinach!  Popeye's wonder food!  He'd squeeze the can, pop the spinach out, suck it down and his muscles would explode with strength and he'd mop the floor with big, bully Bluto!  Yay!  The good guy wins!  Popeye was the champion and Olive was safe once again. I loved knowing that no matter what happened with Olive Oyl, that her protector would defend her--even when she made poor choices and got into trouble.

There are days I want a Popeye to come to my rescue!  Days when life feels heavy and burdensome.  Days when it feels like Bluto is beating the stuffing out of me and I can't get a grip on my can of spinach.  Days when I simply don't have any personal strength.  The good thing is that I remember Jesus.  Jesus, my friend.  Jesus, my helper.  Jesus, my defender. One might think since I've been serving the Lord such a long time that I'd just automatically turn to Him in all things, and most often I do.  But there are battles, and then there are battles.  Some of them come at us fiercely and full force and we collapse at Jesus' feet crying out to Him to rescue us!  And He does!

Then there is the other type of battle.  The one that is insidious and sneaky.  It is the one that at first blush, we might consider small or insignificant for a while and that we can handle it ourselves.  HA!  This is the battle that can have staying power.  It grows roots like kudzu on a southern highway and it infiltrates every nook and cranny of our life.  Before we know it, we are so bound up with it that it is all we can talk about.  It is all we can think about.  It carries fear, worry, and heartache with it and it turns out to be the hardest one to conquer--because we can't conquer it.  We never could!  

Thankfully, we can turn to Jesus!  He's still stronger than these tangly, prickly, binding, crippling troubles!  There's nothing too hard for Him and He doesn't need to get his hand on a can of spinach to handle our hard issues!  I trust him to defend me because He doesn't defend me because I am good.  He defends me because He is good.

"But you, oh Lord, are a shield about me, my glory and the One who lifts my head."  Psalms 3:3  

He is our protector and our defender!  Cartoon Olive Oyl has her cartoon Popeye, but we are flesh and bone human beings who make mistakes, have faults, and have troubles--and we have the Son of God who shields us and lifts our head when we give Him opportunity and access.  I don't want to fight my own battles.  I want the Lord in charge of my life in all things, in all areas.  

Thank you, Lord, for your goodness and your presence in my life.  Thank you for shielding me and lifting my head.  Thank you for showing me truth even with the things of childhood, even a cartoon.  I love you, Father.  

Suzanne     








Sunday, February 3, 2013

answered prayers and letting go

It's been a long week.  We've had some family issues and some physical issues.  Several friends have had serious health problems and one more former high school classmate died.  (That seems to be happening more often lately.)  Did I say it's been a long week?  On the flip side, I was concerned about something...oh, go ahead, Suz, say it! I was worried about something so I prayed about it and the Lord met the need within two days!

The Lord doesn't always work so quickly when I pray, but this time he did, and I'm deeply grateful.  Sometimes you just need to know he's really there and listening and truly cares about what's going on in your life enough to say "Yes, I'll do it," when we ask.  It meant much to me to have a physical answer to my heart's cry out to God.    

We all have seasons of turmoil that seem to churn and churn and they never allow us to be calm and restful inside.  We pray and pray and then we worry and fret and then we pray and pray again.  We may find a breath of peace for the moment and then it all begins again.  It's the silence and dimness of his presence that bother's me most.  I read a devotional by Oswald Chambers that addressed this darkness and it's helped me a lot.  The Bible says, "My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me.  I give them eternal life and they will never die and no one can steal them out of my hand. John 10:27  Chambers says to picture the Lord holding us in his carefully closed hand.  He's holding us preciously, protectively, fingers wrapped gently around us so as to take care of us and not to hurt us.  From our perspective, we are confined and kept in the dark and silence when it is just the opposite. He is keeping us safely tucked away, ever present in our lives while we weather the current storm.  Same circumstances, the dark silent time where God isn't available and doesn't care versus the dark, quiet time knowing the Lord is in control.  It's about perspective.  It's about faith.
 

This is when our faith in the goodness of God toward his children must be our bedrock.  Even though we may seemingly be facing life alone, even though the Lord may be silent and he may seem a million miles away from where we are, we believe and we trust in him simply because we know the truth.  He promises, "I will never leave you, nor forsake you."  Heb 13:5.  And when we don't know or don't understand why we're going through these times, we can remember, "The steps of the righteous are ordered of the Lord and he delights in his way."  Psalm 37:23   

Despite how we may feel at the hardest moments of our lives, the Lord has only good in mind for us.    "I say this because I know what I am planning for you, says the Lord.  I have good plans for you, not plans to hurt you.  I will give you hope and a good future."  Jeremiah 29:11   These are the moments that we don't try to hold on and to be stronger.  We are not strong enough to hold on till this stuff passes.  These are the very times when we let go and fall into the arms of Jesus and let him carry us through our storm.  I will never forget how the Lord carried me through my time of taking care of my terminally ill mother a few years ago.  Many people praised me telling me how wonderful I was and how strong I was but I was always careful to let them know, that I didn't do it.  Oh, I went to the dr's appts and stayed with her at home and did all her stuff, but there's no doubt in my mind that I was carried throughout that nearly 4 years.  He carried me!  I promise you, the Lord promises you, you will not be disappointed in him.  We may not always understand every nuance of our heartache and pain and struggle, but Jesus never fails.  Never.

Lord, thank  you for the answer to my prayer this week.  I needed to know you've been hearing me despite this long struggle and you helped me.  Your timing is always perfect.  It may not be my timing but it is perfect because you are perfect.  Help me to let go, to leave my worries to you.  Sometimes I hold them too closely because it makes me feel in control.  Now, that's funny!  Even I know that's just crazy talk!  I love you for taking care of my family and me and for loving us like you do.  You love us all!  How great is that?  Loosen my grip, Father!  You handle my life so much better than I.  
Love,
Suz






Monday, January 21, 2013

misty water-colored memories

Our daughter, Amy, dropped by for a nice visit today.  She and her dad and I caught up on the last few days and just spent some good time together.  When it came time for her to leave we went out the back door to the backyard and as we were standing in the warm sunshine on this January '13 day, I saw time pass.  Really.

As we chatted, I looked at Amy and her dad, and I considered myself and thought of the nearly thirty-three years we'd lived in this house that Byron built.  I noticed our ages; Byron's not a young man anymore, I'm not a young woman and Amy is in her prime.

My eyes scanned our backyard and thought of the two, little white haired girls who played here with their next door neighbor cousins.  I remembered how they all sat in the shovel of a back hoe and had their picture made.  How they'd swing on the tire swing from the huge oak near the kitchen door.  How they romped and stomped with whatever pup we had at the time.

I saw my girls riding the old tractor on the back of the lot and heard them singing church songs to the top of their lungs.  They didn't know we could hear every word they sang over the noise of the tractor.  I remembered the playhouse Byron's dad built for their older cousin, Candy, and how we brought it out here after she outgrew playing with it.  I thought of those five mean and nasty pigs we raised and how Sandy and I had to round one or two of them up one afternoon after they'd escaped.  I thought about the first chickens we raised, the bunnies and, later on, our 13 sweet goats.

I thought of school plays when Amy was a flower and Holly was a leprechaun and performances of The Patchwork Singers in elementary school.  "One singular sensation..." and "Start spreading the news..."  I saw Amy driving her little white Datsun station wagon to pick up her cousins the evening of the day she got her license and Holly coming home from school in her little red Tercel.  I remembered Flag Corp practice for Amy and marching band for Holly.

We had Amy and her cousin  Chris' high school graduation party here and there were about a million people who showed up for it and we had a blast!  Two years later instead of a graduation party, Holly wanted a wedding and it was beautiful and so was she.  I remember Byron and I sitting down on the couch that evening after the long, great day and how I sobbed my eyes out.  I was totally exhausted and I was sad for my baby growing up and leaving home, but I was also happy she married a wonderful man to start a home a family with.    

I remember the bonfire Amy's youth group had here. I don't know how many young adults showed up but there were a LOT of them.  I also remember talking with a young man and woman in the kitchen that evening, who weren't dating at the time, and about how they are married now with two kids of their own.

I thought of all the dinners and cookouts we've had here with family and friends, many of them passed on now, and I miss them, even though we made great memories while they were here.  After most dinners with my immediate family, I'd take tiny Hannah out in the backyard and we'd identify plants and talk about stuff.  Later after Summer was born, we'd take those same walks but we also had the goats so we'd take time to give them a little treat of corn.  They are so different in their ways and growing up lightning fast along with our terrific grandson, Sid, who joined our family when Amy and Lane married a few years ago.

Thirty-three years...it is a mist, a vapor, and it passed by so very quickly.  It reminds me of these lyrics...

Memries, like the corners of my mind, misty water-colored memories, of the way we were.
Scattered pictures, of the smiles we left behind, smiles we gave to one another, for the way we were.
...so it's the laughter, we will remember, whenever we remember...
The way we were...
The way we were...


and a few Bible verses;

Some of you say, "Today or tomorrow we will go to some city.  We will stay there a year, do business, make money.  But you do not know what will happen tomorrow.  Your life is like a mist.  You can see it for a short time but then it goes away.  So you should say, "If the Lord wants, we will do this, or that."  James 4:14 

It's been good, thus far and I'm so looking forward to what the Lord has for us for the rest of the vapor!  I know it will pass quickly but it's going to be good, Lord willing.

What a fun thing to think of today, Father!  It was kind of weird, seeing the years pass like that, but you brought back some really great memories for me.  Thank you!  I love you!
 
Suzanne



Saturday, January 19, 2013

Perfectionist and Procrastinator

Procrastination stinks.  It keeps me from doing all those things I'd really like to do...all those things I plan to enjoy, all those projects I want to complete.

I've had a project on my mind and heart for over a year now and I won't start it.  I'm avoiding it like the plague itself and yet I think about it daily.  If I'd just get started, all this thinking about it would be productive, not wasted energy, but I know why I don't begin.  I understand it from the deepest level and I'm struggling to get around it, to step over it, to get into the water, to get my feet wet and then immerse myself into something grand and personally gratifying.

My hindrance is that I'm a perfectionist.  I didn't say I'm perfect.  I'm far from it, but I so want to do everything perfectly and if I don't envision myself doing my heart's desire with no shortcomings and  no blemishes then I just won't begin.  My daughter, Holly, says we're perfectionists--we're just not very good at it!  So, I'll just keep dreaming and plotting and waiting for that pristine day when the sun will shine brightly, inspiration blooms wildly, and my castle in the air becomes a reality.

I started thinking about my perfectionistic tendencies and began noticing how insidious they are and how they grab onto the tiniest detail and blow it way out of proportion.  Take, for example, the simple act of brushing my teeth.  If after I've brushed, I notice one little patch of "sweater" on a back tooth, for a fleeting second, I feel let down as though I've surely failed.  I don't sink into despair and cease to function but I notice it and I don't feel quite up to par...just not quite "good enough."

When I'm cooking and the rice isn't perfectly tender, then my whole dish isn't great and I might as well have bought KFC and ditched the home cooked meal--at least their chicken is tasty!  If I'm cleaning and don't move everything in the room every time I vacuum, then I'm a slacker and need to just stop trying to keep house.  If I'm visiting with a new person and say a little something stupid or silly, something ultimately inconsequential, I replay the scene over and over in my head and end up feeling like an idiot because I didn't get the whole encounter "right."

This kind of perfectionism stymies and ruins my good efforts and casts a shadow of discontent over my day, over my heart, over all my good plans and intentions.  It takes the sparkle out of my life--and I so love sparkle!

So what does this have to do with my project?  Well, if I KNOW I won't be able to do it perfectly, then I just won't even begin!  Then there won't be any shadows of failure or whispers of, "Stupid!  what made you think you could do it anyway?"  If I don't start it, then I can't fail at it.  (I have noticed over the years that my inner dialogue isn't very kind to me.)

Anyway, I'm learning that perfectionism leads to procrastination and that's what's been stalling me and that I need to be kinder to myself and show myself a little grace.  Then I read this:

Lord, you have examined me and know all about me.  You know when I sit down and when I get up.  You know my thoughts before I think them.  You know where I go and where I lie down.  You know everything I do.  Lord, even before I say a word, you know it.  Psalms 139:1-4.      

There is nothing about me he does not know.  There is no failure, no oversight, no shortcoming that's a surprise to Him and yet he loves me and he blesses me because I am his child.  He doesn't expect me to be perfect in my own right, by my own efforts.  This is the same for all his children.  We are perfect because of Jesus.  I am perfect because of Jesus.

Since you are God's children, God sent the Spirit of his Son into your hearts, and the Spirit cries out, "Father!"  So, now you are not a slave, you are God's child, and God will give you the blessing he promised because you are his child.  Galatians 4:6-7

I am a parent and as much as I love my children, I understand they are not perfect human beings.  They are human and frail as much as anyone but I love them unconditionally, and in spite of any struggles or failures, I applaud their effort to live Godly lives and be good people.   How much more does our Heavenly Father love us?    

I'm going to think about this some more.  I'm going to hold these truths close to my heart and try to show myself more of the Lord's grace--not be so critical of myself.  At least that's the goal!  I don't have to make all things perfect.  Reading these verses feels like a warm, snuggly hug from my Father.  He loves me just as I am, so all's right with my world and I can start that project even if it's not perfect, it's mine and an effort done in love.

Thank you, Father, for your tender loving kindness to me, your daughter.  I needed this soft place to land and you are here.  I love you.

Suzanne











     



Monday, January 7, 2013

A Great Day in Poplar Springs

On our last trip to Alabama in November, I made plans to find my great-aunt Lillie McClendon's grave.  From my research on Find-a-Grave, I discovered she is buried in Poplar Springs, AL in a small church cemetery.  Through a connection on Find a Grave, I met a cousin of mine who told me I also had many Slayton ancestors (my paternal ggrandmother was a Slayton) in this cemetery, which made me want to check it out even more.  I did some research and phone calling and found out how to get to it so Byron and I and our friends, Odis and Marsha, decided to make a day of it and take a field trip.

All went well as we traveled to the tiny community way back in the rural parts of Alabama just outside of Albertville, AL.  We didn't have any problems finding the pretty little Poplar Springs Church and its cemetery thanks to the clear cut directions given to me by the Chamber of Commerce of Albertville.

We arrived at our destination about mid-morning.  This way back place far from city and traffic and noise.  This small, white country church with the well tended building and manicured yard and neatly kept cemetery.  This quiet, peaceful place where my husband, our friends and I searched for my familial connections to the past.  As we looked for Aunt Lillie's grave, I noticed many McClendon's.  Many Slaytons.  Some Bryants.  Just seeing these names on gravestones made me feel connected, tightly laced to this new place--this place I'd never before visited.  It felt old and comfortable and familiar to me.  I found my gggrandparents headstone monuments and was moved to consider that Sarah Horton Slayton had given birth to my grandmother, Zora, who birthed my grandfather, John Bryant, who fathered my dad, also John Bryant.  The sense of continuity was electrifying.

We searched and searched yet couldn't seem to find Aunt Lillie so we just kept looking.  It was a small place, so surely she couldn't be that hard to find.  Meanwhile, a car drove up with a husband and wife about our age with a very young, little girl with them.  As they got out of their vehicle, the woman brought out a beautiful potted plant.  I wanted so much to talk to them and ask about my family, but I decided to wait and see on which grave she placed the plant.

To my surprise and delight, she placed it on a Slayton grave!  I immediately went over to her and asked, "Are you a Slayton?"  She replied, "My mother was."  I pointed to Sarah Horton Slayton's monument and said, "This is my second great grandmother."  Her face lit up and she said, "She's MY second great grandmother, too!"  Her great grandfather and my great grandmother, Zora, were siblings!  She and I are cousins!

We hugged and then introduced ourselves and our husbands and friends one to another and started comparing notes on family.  I can't begin to describe how surreal the next few minutes were.  She told me about her mother and the community and the church.  Kathy and her husband don't live in Poplar Springs but she regularly brings flowers to her mother's grave.  This day was an out of the ordinary day because her little granddaughter was sick and they were babysitting her from school.  The little one wanted to bring holiday flowers on this day and I'm so glad she did!

Kathy also told me of the New Harmony Cemetery that was only a few minutes away where many, many of my Bryant ancestors from the early 1800s and later, are buried!  Before we parted, Marsha found Aunt Lillie's headstone, the one we'd initially come seeking.   Kathy and I made plans to become Facebook friends and to stay in touch, which we have done, and are making plans for a long visit the next time we get to Alabama.  After we said our goodbyes and finished up at Poplar Springs, we made a visit to New Harmony and were able to see even more than we ever expected to see on that chilly, overcast and rainy Alabama weekday field trip.

I often think of this good day and I am in awe when I think of how it turned out.  This meeting was no coincidence.  It was no chancy get together.  It couldn't have been more God-orchestrated if He'd sent out written invitations to us both--but what touches me most was that He knew how much I needed this connection with family, with my ancestry, with my roots.  The Lord knows my personal pain and struggles.  He knows my desires and my longing for connection with my family's past and then gives me a gift I could have never provided for myself.

Many people think of cemeteries as creepy or scary but I don't.  There's something amazing about standing in the middle of a cemetery filled with my ancestors, thinking of their lives and their times.  Their hardships, their joys, and their faith.  I think about how the same Lord Jesus who protected them, who met their needs, who guided them, is the one who takes care of my family and me, now.  He's the same one who gives us special gifts like that great day in Poplar Springs, Alabama where I found my family.      

What a great, fun, exciting day, Jesus!  You give good gifts!  You know us better than we know ourselves and I thank you for this perfect present.  I love you!

Suz