"I'll give you six cows for her."

Contentment

Those of you in my generation might remember a song with the lyrics, "We gotta get out of this place.  If it's the last thing we ever do.  We gotta get out of this place.  Cause girl there's a better life for me an you..."  I've been feeling a lot like this over the past year, so recently, I've been talking to Byron about moving out of our area to a smaller town, a larger piece of land, and somewhere there are more definite seasons with less sweltering heat.  I have not been content with what we have here.

There are many things we can be discontent about in our lives.  Our bodies, our families, our friends, our finances, our home, or our weather. The list can be endless.  Lately, I have been discontent with living in central Florida.  Our neighborhood is an old one and not getting better.  Our city is expanding exponentially with a lot of growth out our way and our climate is crazy hot.  While my Michigan friends are hibernating in winter, I hibernate in summer to dodge the heat. I have not been happy about my surroundings.  Because this mama hasn't been happy, Byron and I have been looking for property further north for a few months to see if there's any other place we might want to live.  So far nothing has clicked.

I think part of my discontent is due to growing older.  I don't want to stay where we are until it's really bad and we are too old to do any changing. I don't want to miss anything in my life. But then how do we pick up and move hundreds of miles away from our kids, grandkids, friends and the house that Byron built nearly 40 years ago?  You know the one with all the memories of my children packed inside?  The hallway they ran as young kids.  The bathroom they bathed in as kids every night before bed and where Holly got ready for her wedding.  The kitchen they fixed snacks in or where we all ate dinner every night together. How do we pack up and walk away just because something might change later on?

Truth is, we don't.  I have decided along with Byron that I need to come to grips with where we are.  Home.  To relax.  To settle in.  I've put off doing some things here because I wasn't sure what our plan was going to be about our future.  So to change this, today we ordered a chicken coop.  We are getting backyard chickens again!  I've missed having them but because of the responsibility that comes along with them, I have avoided doing it. Yes, it's a tie here but mostly it's just because I just really like chickens and I don't want to do without them just because of what plans we "might" consider.  I have put this off for quite a while so this is my first step in settling in here and now.

I am not naturally a content person.  I believe we learn or develop a sense of contentment in our lives.  I'm still going to have to practice contentment.  When I get that frantic feeling that I'm missing out on something important or fun, I have been closing my eyes for a few seconds, taking a deep breath, slowing myself down inside and whispering, "Dear God, help me be content here."  In just a short time, my frantic self relaxes and I am once again enjoying my life and this place.

My goal is just this: to be content in all things through Christ.  How content we are helps determine how happy we are with our lives.  I'm still working on myself.  It sure is a long process but I'm not doing it alone.  My father is right here with me.  I pray for God's peace and contentment for you all, too. 

"Not that I speak from [any personal] need, for I have learned to be content [and self-sufficient through Christ, satisfied to the point where I am not disturbed or uneasy] regardless of my circumstances."  Philippians 4:11   AMP

Suzanne

hearing and listening

I am 64 years old.  I tell my age a lot because I have a hard time believing it's true.  Fifteen years ago I graduated high school and it's ten years ago now that I had my babies and was a young mother. Five years ago my daughters married and my granddaughters were born yesterday.

Oh, how I wish that were all true.  

I miss my babies, my little girls. 

I miss my grandbabies.  

I miss the young me.

She's in here though.  You just can't see her anymore because she's disguised as an older woman.  Her voice is rough.  Her body gives her troubles.  She's chubby and sometimes she's so very tired. She colors away the gray and doesn't see as well as she once did.  She doesn't always adjust to new things as easily as she'd like but she tries.      

She's in here.  

I'm in here!  

I'm interested in current events.  I want to be physically fit. I know a lot of stuff--some useful, some useless.  I have developed more patience with some things, some people, and have less patience with others.  I love live music, live theater, live literary readings, live demonstrations. I love life and sometimes life is hard.  

It's cliche, I know, but I'm understanding why aging brings on lots of conversation about health, doctors, medicines, and treatment.  I get it.  I'd like to ignore it but it's too "in my face," to ignore.  Not only do I have my own aches, pains and conditions, my husband also struggles with his issues.  If that weren't enough, many of my dear, longtime girlfriends have more serious health issues than I do.  I remember the times, and it was for many years, that the only doctor visits I'd have in a year were my yearly physicals.  That seems so long ago. 

Add to illness and conditions, that many of my peers have died.  Some suddenly, some after extended illness and others in accidents.  We are more fragile.  If I fell at twenty years old, I might have a bump, bruise or nothing at all.  If I fall now, I may deal with broken wrists, blood clots, or head injury.  It's a scary time for my friends and me.  We watch our steps and check for obstacles in our way.  One fall and we could be headed for surgery and months of recuperation.  So we learn to be more careful than we've ever been in our lives. All these issues are new to us.  We've never been this age before and it's tough. We are adjusting and not always well.

 We talk a lot about our health because it's important to us.  We realize that if our health goes, we could be in big trouble. What if we don't have or can't afford doctor visits and required medicines? What happens to us if we have serious health problems and have no one to take care of us?  

These are some of the things we think about, in addition to what happens if can't afford my home? Everyone needs shelter.  Many, dare I say most, of our concerns have to with finances and health.  If we talk about them a lot it's because they are what's on our hearts and minds.  

We want someone to care enough to listen to our concerns but to also listen to our opinions, our ideas, our dreams!  Yes, we have dreams and plans and hopes and so many memories.  We want to share who we are with our daughters, our sons, our granddaughters, our grandsons.  We want you to know us but also we want to share with you where we came from, and in turn, where YOU came from.  We want real conversation. We want to know about the deepest you and we want you to know the deepest us.  We have ideas, opinions and hard won wisdom that we want to share and we want to know who our heirs are and who we will one day leave behind.  

Don't just listen politely. Hear who we are and what we think.  We are not as stuck in a time warp as you may think.  We remember elementary school, high school and we remember the bad and the good.  We can tell you stories about the girl named Pam who wore a bikini under her coat on a freezing winters day and lots of others.  Some of us are still blessed to have treasured friends who went through these days with us.

Many of us can and will share our walk with the Lord with you and tell you stories of how He rescued, healed and walked with us during the dark times in our lives.  These stories will come to your mind when you are going through the dark places in your own lives and will bolster your faith and this same Lord will carry you through as He did us. We have experienced so much you haven't experienced yet and we will share--if you will hear us.  Sharing is one of the best things we do.  

Love in Curlers

I knew it wouldn't be long now. My mother was sleeping all the time from the meds and death that were creeping up on her. Shallow breaths. Deep sighs. Sadness and loss filled the room. Filled my heart. Filled my future. She would die soon.

A few days before, I'd helped her bathe and change her bed clothes. She'd sat on the side of the bed while I stood before her methodically and gently combing and parting her hair into small sections to gently it wrap around each curler. She still wanted to feel pretty.

That's when she wrapped both her arms around my waist and pulled me close. Then she laid her head on my chest.

"Be my love," she whispered. "Be my love."

"I'm your love, Mama. I am your love."

My mother looked deep into my eyes, searching.

"I'm so tired," she said.

The sick old woman rested her head on me--her daughter--her caretaker--her friend--for a few more seconds and then leaned back so I could finish curling her hair.

Vivid dreams can come after a late night meal,
or sometimes they come from God

Suzanne Adams
March 2014


The Journey

          It is midnight and I am walking all alone on a dark road.  There are thick woods on either side of the straight road.  I am headed toward home that is at the end of the long road. 

          As I walk I can only see one step at a time.  The black of the night frightens me and I am afraid of what might be just ahead.

          After walking for a few minutes, a floating, dark, ugly head with no body, comes out of the woods about shoulder height, directly toward me. 

          It wrenches and twists grotesquely.  It snarls and snaps at me with misshapen, jagged teeth.  I am startled and fearful.  Apprehension grips my heart--and yet, I walk on. 

          I cannot see His face or form but at the very second the awful thing is about to get me, to hurt me, Someone loving and protective disintegrates it like ashes from a fire, crumbling to the ground.  Completely gone.

          I continue on my way one step at a time, relieved the thing is gone.

          A few minutes more on the road and the second thing springs out of the night just above my head on my other side.  This one is dark with no definite shape, twisting and writhing--threatening.  It is as frightening as the first.  I am startled and again fearful.  Apprehension grips my heart--and yet, I walk on. 

          At the very second the twisting shape is about to hurt me, the same protective, loving Someone disintegrates it as the first one, like ashes crumbling to the ground.  Completely harmless.  Completely gone. 

          Relieved that the thing is gone, I continue on my way. 

          Frightening things continue to come at me every few minutes as I travel the straight road but always at just the right time they crumble as ashes on the ground, never harming me. There are many but each one is different and every time a new one appears I am protected by Someone.

I am never harmed.  I am fearful, but I am never hurt.        

          My dream ends before I reach home. 

          My final destination is yet to come. 

I told you these things so that you can have peace in me. In this world you will have trouble, but be brave! I have defeated the world.  John 16:33 NCV

What I Think My Dream Means

         

          I think the road I am on is my life, my walk with Christ.  I am alone because our walk with the Lord is personal and no one can walk it for us.  It is a straight way of undetermined length but with a definite destination.  The night speaks to me of not knowing what's "out there," in life, for me.  Thick woods, especially at night, scare me because I don't know what harmful things are in there.  Not knowing is frightening to me. 

          We read in scripture that our steps are "ordered of the Lord."  We take steps of faith one at a time.  The Bible says, "from faith to faith."  In my dream, I'm walking these steps one at a time in all the light I have. 

          The attacks are frightening but not disabling.  I still function.  I still walk though fearful.  I worry.  Each and every time I think I'm about to be harmed by these "scary things,"  Someone loving and protective, The Lord, crumbles them.  The scary things are but ashes with no real strength or power.  Over and over I am attacked on my journey by paper tigers.  

This dream is a reassuring comfort at a time in my life when my family and I have come through a long season of much turmoil and heartache.  I believe the Lord is saying, I've protected you through all your troubles and I will protect you until you're home.  Sometimes I'm afraid but there is no need to be.  Fear is useless when we have faith in Jesus.

         

I believe the Lord is reassuring me that even though troubles come hard and often, He protects me and no harm comes to the real me.  My body is scared but my spirit is safe in Him.  He is my protector and my Savior.  He is the One who will bring me home even on the final leg of my journey.   

Father, Thank you for your protection until the end of my earthly journey.  You're a wonderful protector and the lifter of my head.  I love you.

Suz

finishing strong

My kids were at our house for dinner recently.  After we'd eaten I was sitting on my front porch swing with Summer, Sid, Hannah and her boyfriend, Corey.  We were talking and laughing and playing with our big dog, Goose.  Summer was trying to get Goose to run with her so they could play but he wasn't having any part of it.  There were too many other things to capture his attention.  That's when I had the bright idea that if I ran he'd surely run and play with his mama.  So I took off.

I ran, and I'm using the term "run" loosely, to the end of my front walk.  He didn't follow.  Hannah started laughing and I thought she was laughing because Goose wasn't cooperating.  Nope.  She was laughing at my attempt to run!  I am not thin skinned and if I can do something to make my grandkids laugh, I'll do it until it's not funny anymore, so it absolutely didn't hurt my feelings.

Hannah kept laughing and told me I looked like I was speed walking, not running.  Hmm, a speed walking Gramma.  That IS pretty funny. I laughed at the visual too but I was laughing harder because I hadn't felt like I was speed walking, I felt like a gazelle!  When I told them how I'd felt, we all laughed!

Today as I walked around the lake at our nearby park, I wasn't nearly as tired as I had been in the beginning.  I am up to twice around the lake, nearly two miles, and yes, I'm pretty happy about it.  As I was completing my second lap and my car was in sight, I decided not to limp the last stretch but to run, to finish strongly.  Of course, as I started to run, I thought about looking like a speed walking Gramma and how funny I must have looked but I ran on...feeling like a gazelle...a Gazelle Gramma...and thinking about how the kids had laughed at me, I laughed, too!

As I got closer to the car I thought about the real race, this walk with Jesus, that I'm on.  More than anything in my life, I don't want to limp across the finish line.  I want to finish strongly!  On the outside, I may look like I'm speed walking Gramma, but in my heart, I'm a gazelle, sailing through the finish line into the arms of Jesus!    

"I have fought the good fight, I have finished the course, I have kept the faith; in the future there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will award to me on that day; and not only to me, but also to all who have loved His appearing."  2 Timothy 4:7-8

Father, thank you for the race and for the strength to finish it.  I love you!

Suz

silent seasons

I will admit I'm not a very proactive friend.  I love my people, I really do, but when it comes to keeping in touch with them regularly, I often fall down.  My thinking has always been, "No news is good news," but it's not always true.  Sometimes, ok, often, it means stuff is going on in my pals lives and it's not always good.  The more days that go by, the more friends I hear of having serious issues...cancer, death in the family, financial woes, and family troubles just to name a few.

The truth is that even when I'm in a silent season, one of my BFFs sends me a note that says, "What's going on?  You've been quiet for too long,"  and she's usually right.  Either Byron or I have been ill or there's been a negative relationship issue or something else has been haunting me.

I am going to give my best effort to not being the one leaving my friends alone anymore when they are making themselves scarce.  I might be the very one who can offer some help, encouragement, or just a listening ear.  

"If one person falls, the other can reach out and help. But someone who falls alone is in real trouble."  Ecclesiastes 4:10

I am thankful for my friends, including my daughters who have grown up to be my friends, and I am blessed with many others, most of whom are very long time friends. I need them and they need me. I am grateful for them for they lift me up when I am low.

Dear Father, 
How I thank you for strong friends who help me, who lend me their hands to lift me up.  Help me to always be a supportive hand to them.  Thank you for being my very best friend. I love you! 
Suzanne   

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

















  

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, 1914, was 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

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    

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     

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

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

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











     

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  








        

walking in Alabama

We've been in Alabama for the last few months and that means we've been away from our family and most of our friends.  Many of them have had serious troubles and hard times this summer and we've not been physically close by to support them and encourage them in their difficulties.  It's the toughest part of being away from home.

These are the times we learn how faithful the Jesus is to us--when we're not right there beside our struggling family or friends, and when we pray--really pray--for the Lord to help them.  These are the times we remember the promises we've read about, we recall the sermons we've heard about God's faithfulness and willingness to help us, when we remember the encouragement we've given others about the Lord's compassion for us and these are the times when we lean hard on these promises.  It's when the rubber of our faith meets the road of our lives.

In my reading and reflection lately I've seen the bigger picture concerning our walk with Jesus.  I realize that when we walk with Him, it's a private walk.  It's Jesus and me.  You may hear of my heartbreak or struggle and pray for me.  You may call me in support and encourage me and these are good things and we all need our family in the Lord to do them, but when we come right down to what's going on, it's a private conversation, an intimate walk, just Jesus and me.  In your life, it's just Jesus and you.  How beautiful is that?

To have the Lord's full attention on me gives me all the more reason to give my full attention to Him.  When I walk around the yard and check out my garden's progress (or lack thereof) or listen to the day's beginning with my cup of coffee on the front porch, I practice the presence of the Lord. We know that the Lord is with us all the time.  We know he hears us when we call on Him and He lives in us, so isn't it also true that when I walk around my yard or enjoy my coffee that He is there and I can easily commune with Him?  It is amazing!

It goes something like this:  "Look at that huge squash, Lord! That thing is big!"  What gorgeous blossoms are on my okra plants!  Okra of all things!"  "Those crows are so noisy, Jesus."  "Why did you  make them so loud and boisterous!  I know some people like those crows, Lord!"  Or, "Bless my children, Jesus.  I miss them so."

It may sound silly to someone else, but Jesus is my friend and I want to share my time with Him. I want to share my thoughts with Him. I want to hear what He's saying to me.  I want to communicate with Him, always, and in all ways.  That's friendship at it's best.  And that's when the road back to Florida doesn't seem so long and my days are full and my family isn't so far away.  That's when trusting the Lord with them is a natural thing to do because I've spent the day with Him and I know He'll take good care of them.

We can't walk with Jesus for anyone but ourselves, through difficulties or the easy times, it's a personal walk, and a joyous one at that!  

Lord, thank you for being my friend.  My truly faithful friend!  I cherish you and our time together.  

Suz

worth more than birds

I have been loving all the wildlife outside my back door lately!  As I type, at this very moment, there are three black bears in the tree just feet from my house.  We usually set up a wildlife cam to catch their movements on video but as it would happen, I didn't turn it on last night and I missed their busy duties of dragging our garbage over the fence to the neighbors yard for a picnic, taking a doo-doo break right in front of the cam (I'm glad we missed this one), and climbing up the tree for a little snooze.  We didn't even know they were in the tree until our friend came over to visit and mentioned seeing them to us!  To top it all off, I'd just gone out to the garage for a moment and back into the house without so much as an upward glimpse!  Shows how observant I can be when I'm focused on something else.  We also have a plethora of squirrels this year, myriads of lizards and an abundance of possums!

For me though it's our feathered friends that astound me!  Our local bird life is amazing and I am in awe not only of our variety but how many of each type there are right now!  Hawks, we've seen as many as 5 different ones in a day, scream their warnings as they zoom from tall pine to old oak hunting for little creatures on the ground.  A couple of weeks ago, we watched a hawk swoop down and grab a mourning dove from our front yard leaving a poof of feathers on the grass.  Lunch is served!

Kites soar effortlessly overhead riding the gentle breeze.  Cardinals zip from hedge to fence and back again as they hunt to feed their little ones in the nest.  Soft gray mourning doves, nearly invisible on the yard, comb the grass for small insects in the cool of the morning and evening.  Redheaded woodpeckers tap, tap, tap the dead trees looking for a meal while the huge pileated woodpeckers hammer away also looking to fill their bellies.

We watch the tiny hummingbirds hover as they drink nectar from our roses and feeder, then buzz quickly away to their tiny nests high in the trees.  If we linger on our porch swing we know they will soon return because they have to eat about every 15 minutes.

I love watching turkey vultures soar on the wind.  They are the clean up crew hankering for something to eat that we consider really disgusting.  Crows, with their caw-caw or unh-unh, are also out there trying to make a meal out of carrion.  Every little bit they eat keeps our world just a bit more bacteria free.

Sand hill cranes, cattle egrets, curlew, blackbirds, mockingbirds, bluejays, wild turkeys and even bald eagles have been known to grace our neighborhood with their unique presences.  At the end of the day when houses are asleep and life is quiet, owls hoot greetings one to another on the night as if to say, "All is well."    

These unique animals and birds, our Florida wildlife, reinforce my wonder in our creative, loving God!   Seeing them and even interacting with them, if only with a camera or a glance, is one of the simple pleasures of my life.  It's a joy to watch creatures do what they do and prompts me to consider what I do and why.  Worry?  They don't, and yet they are provided with everything they need.   I can't always say the same about myself.  Does the Lord love me any less than the animals on land or in the air?  

Jesus said to his followers, "So I tell you, don't worry about the food you need to live, or about the clothes you need for your body.   Life is more than food, and the body is more than clothes.  Look at the birds.  They don't plant or harvest, they don't have storerooms or barns, but God feeds them.  And you are worth much more than birds.  You cannot add any time to your life by worrying about it.  If you cannot do even the little things, then why worry about the big things?  Consider how the lilies grow; they don't work or make clothes for themselves.  But I tell you that even Solomon with his riches was not dressed as beautifully as one of these flowers.  God clothes the grass in the field, which is alive today but tomorrow is thrown into the fire.  So how much more will God clothe you?  Don't have so little faith!   Don't always think about what you will eat or what you will drink, and don't keep worrying.   All the people in the world are trying to get these things, and your Father knows you need them.   But seek God's kingdom, and all your other needs will be met as well."                                                                                                                                                            Luke 12: 22-30
Look around your home.  Notice the creatures--big or small.  The Lord loves us way more than them.  No worries.  No worries.

Father, thank you for your creative hand!  Your work brings me joy and your care brings me peace.  I love you!

Suz

making all things new

 My disposition by nature is usually upbeat and I lean toward looking at the brighter side of a thing or situation.  Lately though I've felt like my days have been stormy and cloudless, and, frankly, it was getting on my nerves!  The things causing my gloominess have not changed considerably.  What was, still is, but is hopefully in process of being resolved sooner rather than later. I have prayed much for this season to end and yet here I stand--still waiting.  Waiting on the Lord.

It's hard to wait, especially when I've got such a clear idea of how to fix the issue.  (I'm so glad Jesus has a sense of humor. Can't you just hear Him chuckle at my overconfidence?)  Yes, I have talked to Him about it.  But what is taking so long?

I've been reading about Joseph and how he was sold into slavery by his brothers.   As he worked his way up (by God's design) into the ranks as Potiphar's right hand man,  I noticed how slowly the wheels of God's plan seemed to turn.  Time to build Potiphar's trust and then time in prison for the false allegations of Potiphar's wife.  Time while being forgotten by those in prison that he helped--for years.  Time to become trusted and given the responsibility of storing food in the time of plenty for the famine.  The seven years of plenty and then the seven years of lack--until the day when he was finally reunited with his brothers and ultimately his father!  Think of all those YEARS!

Then, BOOM!  Yesterday, I woke up and my heart was lighter than it had been in weeks.  My countenance was brighter and I felt hopeful!  I believe the Lord let me know it was because someone had prayed for me!  How wonderful and yet how humbling!  Who am I that a friend would mention my name in their prayer time?  Who am I that the Lord would meet me right at the point of my gloom and lift it so beautifully?

It is a great thing and I will not continue to question why, but I will do this:  When I hear of a sister or brother who has a need, I will pray for them right then.  It may not always be a get down on my knees and raise my hands to heaven prayer, but it will be a heartfelt call to the Lord for help with expectation that He will rescue them as He rescued me.           

Thank you, dear one, whoever you are, for remembering me.  Thank you, Father, for brighter days and a hopeful heart!  It's a good day!  I love you, Lord!  You make all things new!   


Suz

drinking sweet oranges

I just drank a sweet Florida orange like I was taught by Barbra, one of my very first Florida friends. For a few moments I was 14 again and it was great!

You may want to try drinking an orange and if you don't know how, here are the steps.

How to Drink a Florida Juice Orange

1. Wash the orange well. Florida oranges are not showroom perfect. They may be dirty and even when they are washed look rusty, but they are some of the sweetest fruit ever!

2. Roll the fruit around on the counter with medium pressure on all sides until soft. Do not break the skin.

3. Take a paring knife and core the stem end of the orange as you would a tomato. Then pare away a small amount of peel around the hole.

4. Holding the orange in your hand, squeeze from the bottom and then sides until juice fills the hole. Suck the sweet juice out of the orange. Repeat and enjoy until orange is dry.

5. Tear apart dry orange and enjoy the pulp, too.

That's the way to drink a Florida orange!

The summer of '67 was a huge year of changes for me. Moving from the north to the south, from densely populated to rural, and leaving my best friends to making new ones, was difficult but often exciting. My friend, Barb, and I drank a lot of oranges and grapefruit from local groves in the summer I was 14. We wandered Clarcona and talked a lot about differences in my former suburban life and her country Florida life. She introduced me to the local postmistress, Mrs Stone and the truant officer, Mrs Damon. We hiked over the local county landfill and visited the local horse farm. I saw baby chicks up close for the very first time and met her faithful Beagle friend, Useless.

I rode a school bus for the first time and changed classes outside! Our school cafeteria had salads and sweet tea and in the back by the Ag classrooms was a smoking area for the seniors. The school day began with a Bible verse and encouragement from our principal, Roger Williams. It was new. It was different. I don't think it was better or worse than where I had been in Michigan...it was just different. I learned a lot of nature-y things and a lot about self-preservation and doing things for myself. There weren't many gators then but there were Florida panthers in the area and spectacular sunsets every evening. It was a good time in my life and I think it helped round out who I am even now.

Wandering around a small country community in the heat of summer wearing flip flops in black sand, stealing oranges for lunch, grabbing a cool drink of water from the hose, meeting the neighbors and discovering another girl's way of life may not sound like a big adventure to most, but for me, it was a good thing and I'm grateful for it.

I had a good time that summer, Lord. Thank you!

Suz

melting

Have you ever just looked at someone and felt overwhelming love and care for them? I remember when our girls were small and I'd see them playing or eating or sleeping and a wave of love as deep as the ocean would wash over my heart. My knees grew weak and their simple, youthful beauty brought tears to my eyes. I felt inadequate to be everything they needed and yet I also realized that I was the one they had...I had to step up and be their mother, their parent, their protector, their champion, whether I felt strong or not.

I feel similarly with each of my grandchildren, but with a twist. The overwhelming wave of love washes over me and my knees grow weak at their complete beauty, both inside and out, and I melt when they are near...but the ultimate responsibility for parenting and protecting does not lie with me--rather, with their very capable parents. In this, is the best of both worlds. I still have the warm and fuzzy feelings, but the work is done by their mother and father. I believe this is the beauty of grandparenting. There is still the responsibility as a grandparent to be a stable, loving, supportive influence in their lives but it is like the cherry on top of the dessert--not the meat and potatoes of the meal.

I've noticed lately that when I look at my husband, even after all the years we've been together, dating over a year and married over forty-one years, when I look at him, my heart melts. It's funny, but I often don't see a 62 year old man, but my 18 yr old boyfriend with the big brown eyes and the long eyelashes and no, I don't need glasses because the heart doesn't need them to remember when.

Mostly, though, there are the other times, when I see the older husband, the one who has worked hard his whole life to support his family. The one who sacrificed day in and day out to provide a home, food, clothing and so many good things for us, his family. This is the guy who went to work whether he felt like it or not. He is the man who braved the summer sun and bitter winter cold to work for us out of love. He is my partner, my husband, my best friend. He's the best one of all, who still has the soft brown eyes and long lashes, and he's the one who melts my heart, still.

Father, thank you for the ones you've placed in my life who touch me deeply. Thank you for those who know me better than anyone on earth and still love me. You're good to me. I love you.

Suz