Mamapalooza

Today’s post is dedicated to my mom. Mother of seven, grandmother of 18, great-grandmother to one, and many, many more loved ones by marriage and choice.

This past summer I put a video together for mom’s birthday. It was so much fun to go to her house and one-by-one sneak box after box of photos out. When I got them to my house it was like an archeological dig. I anxiously removed the lid of the box and carefully peered inside. As I leaned into the interior of the box I got a faint whiff of something. It smelled old, like faded memories in the small crevasses of my brain. I methodically pulled out photos by the handful. Some pictures I had never seen, making it seem like I was unearthing rare artifacts. Some were old favorites that I have grown up with. The rest had been forgotten but once seen, immediately brought back flashes of remembrance.

Below is my very humble video. There are a several things I would like to point out.

A couple spots in the video I consider “God moments.“ I am not very familiar with movie-maker so it was basically a learn-as-I-go project. There are a couple moments when the music and the images aligned perfectly and there is no possible way I could have planned it.

When I played the video back for the first time with the music on it I noticed that during the song “As For Me and My House” the clip of my parent initials, a heart and date came up right when the words were “as for me and my house, we will praise the Lord.”

Toward the end of the video this quote is used, “My mom is a neverending song in my heart of comfort happiness and being. I may sometimes forget the words but I always remember the tune.” I have not heard this quote before, but I came across it and really liked it, so I added it to the video. When this clip of the quote is shown, we are singing “with our neverending praise.”

The pictures of the scriptures are actual photos from one of my mom’s Bible.

And, last, but certainly not least; I chose the Ricky Skaggs song “Somebody’s Praying” especially for this project. Eleven or twelve years ago I was estranged from my family and from God. I felt so alone and I couldn’t pray for myself because I felt abandoned by God. Then I heard this song.

Somebody's prayin, I can feel it
Somebody's prayin' for me
Mighty hands are guiding me
To protect what I can't see
Lord I believe, Lord I believe
That somebody's prayin', for me.

Angels are watchin', I can feel it
Angels are watchin' over me
There's many miles ahead 'til I get home
Still I'm safely kept before your thrown
'Cause Lord I believe, Lord I believe
Your angels are watchin' over me.

I felt like this song was sent to me, and I knew that even though I couldn’t pray for myself, and I was so isolated, that my mom was praying for me still.

My mom, like moms everywhere, does not expect thanks and accolades for being a great mom. But it is my great pleasure to share a little of her life on my post and to publicly convey my gratitude for her life as an example of godly wife and mother.

Please allow ample time for the video to load.

Recovering Worship

A while back our pastor invited our congregation to join him on a journey to recover giving as an act of worship. In addition to any regular tithe or offering, each member has been asked to put one dollar in the offering plate every Sunday for the months of October, November and December. In Jamie’s words he hopes this one dollar offering will, “nurture gratitude to God and inspire us to become a more generous people.”

At my church we are blessed with talented musicians and magnificent instruments. In the midst of wonderful music during the offertory, I usually bow my head and soak in the beauty of the music and wonder of God.

But, two weeks ago after the plate was passed in the choir loft and I gave my dollar, my eyes strayed to the rest of the congregation. Witnessing the response to the offering plate gave me a warm glow in my heart. I noticed the plates moving across the aisles and down the pews, from hand to hand. Everyone from very young to the most senior put something in it as it passed.

Giving as an act of worship.

Is it more?

I can’t judge whether this exercise will recover the sense of giving as an act of worship for the entire congregation. But what I can judge is the unity I have seen in the hands that pass the plate and deposit their dollars together. I believe there is vested interest in this experience together.

I’ve always thought of worship as being about relationship, adoration and praise of God. But this experience shines a new light on the concept and deepens my insight into worship. What would happen if our worship also encompassed the inclusive nature of God’s love and common purpose among His children?

I haven’t asked Jamie exactly what he meant when he said he hoped that giving one dollar each week will nurture gratitude to God and inspire us to become a more generous people. What I hope it means is not only are we more generous in our gratitude and our tithe, but that we also become more generous in our love for one another, reaching across the aisles and down the pews to come together hand-to-hand and heart-to-heart.

God, The Architect

Here in my hometown there’s an old fast-food restaurant on the corner of a very busy intersection that was razed several months ago. Long ago I went to junior high next door. When I was a student at Brazelton it was a Burger Chef. Somewhere along the line it changed names. The doors were closed for the last time about a year ago. The building remained empty for a long time. And then one day it was gone!

I drive past the location every morning on my way to the post office. I watch to see what is happening at that spot. Last spring trucks showed up and started hauling off debris. Then earth-movers began digging and moving big piles of dirt. One day large bundles of cement blocks, bricks and other building supplies showed up. For months it was a huge, seemingly chaotic mess! I didn’t see any progress being made, just piles of stuff being moved around.

Then, almost overnight it emerged. One day nothing; the next a retaining wall and a foundation. The walls began to go up and it has been steadily taking shape ever since.

My life is like that construction project. I thought I had it all planned out. But, it just wasn’t working, it became dilapidated and neglected. In time, my life was empty, and remained that way for a long time.

Then God went to work. He tore down my defenses that were housed behind a crumbling façade of self sufficiency. For a long time my life seemed in complete turmoil. There were big piles of dirt unearthed and on display for curious on-lookers. It was a hard and painful season spent in a very public, empty and muddy lot with a big hole where my heart should have been.

But building blocks love and faith were delivered. A firm foundation was poured. Slowly, order began to take place and my life, built on the Rock, began to develop.

Unlike the structure being built on the busy corner, my life is far from complete. God will continue to expose, and tear down the parts of my life that are not pleasing to Him. In their place He will help to build the character which grows me more and more like Him.

There are no words superlative enough to express my thanks to God. He loves me so much He took my old self and, like a brilliant architect, redesigns and transforms me to reflect His glory. I will forever be grateful.God The Architect by William Blake

Peaceful Fall

I sit down in the springy metal chair on the porch. The day is peaceful and still. I closed my eyes against the bright sunshine and feel it warm on the left side of my face. The cement porch is nice and cool under my bare feet. It seems perfectly quiet as I rock.

I hear the wind rustling the tops of trees, sounding like Mammy’s red petticoat in Gone With The Wind, encircling me from left to right like the wave in a stadium. The chirping of a lone cricket calls to me from the woods. As I concentrate on the song he is singing it is as if my ears come in to focus and I hear the cacophony of nature. More crickets and a chorus of ribbitting frogs join in. A cardinal sings whoit-whoit-whoit from his roost. There's a constant high pitched twee-twee from the beautiful yellow finches in the trees and an occasional blue jay squawking kee-kee.

The leaves are just barely beginning to dress in their autumn splendor; peeks of yellow are showing through the shady woods. On the periphery of the woods the sumac are already ablaze in fiery red. There are patches of white wood aster wildflowers growing rampantly. Less easy to see from my perch on the porch is the Kentucky State Flower, the lowly goldenrod, and small yellow sunflowers with their faces turned to be kissed by the sun.



I love our land. We have a beautiful, peaceful setting with a big yard and trees that hide the neighboring homes until they drop all their foliage and their naked branches reach up to the winter sky. To the side of our home, and in the back we have woods where deer roam in the dusk and dawn. We have a trail wide enough for the golf cart to wind through the woods and along the fence line of the bordering farm. In the past, we have turned it into a haunted trail for Halloween with skeletons, ghosts, goblins and dead man’s gulch.

view from the fence line

views of the backyard and trail

along the driveway

Cooper sees something

Our land is beautiful in the winter and summer. And, when everything is coming to life and I am surrounded by that “new” green that seems to be reserved for the birth of springtime I am awash anew with the wonder of God’s creation and my joy that I live smack dab in the middle of it.

But, my favorite time of year is right now, the fall. I love everything about it. I love the morning chill that greets me as I wake up. The days as they grow cooler; sweater-weather / football-weather. After the long, hot summer, I cannot wait for the first morning when I can see my breath in puffs as I warm the car. I love the way God pours out his autumn paints to drip down the trees. I find great beauty in the falling, drifting leaves; the way they entwine in a type of choreographed, spinning waltz in front of me as I drive down the road. It makes me happy to have the crackle and crunch of dried leaves under my feet as I walk. The smell of bonfires and burning leaves gives me little shivers of delight. I even love the days as they grow shorter and the nights longer.

Welcome fall!

October gave a party;
The leaves by hundreds came-
The Chestnuts, Oaks, and Maples,
And leaves of every name.
The Sunshine spread a carpet,
And everything was grand,
Miss Weather led the dancing,
Professor Wind the band.
- George Cooper, October's Party

God Is In His Heaven

My precious friend Leah leaned over to me in the choir loft at church this morning and told me that she was bringing my family dinner tonight. WOW! What a blessing. We had a fabulous meal of good eats directly from their garden. OK, maybe not directly from the garden since the veggies were cooked, but it was wonderfully fresh!

It was so out of the blue, completely unexpected. But it was absolutely appreciated.

After dinner Alex and I took the golf cart down the little gravel road to deliver some books to my mom. The setting sun painted a brilliant array of pinks, oranges and yellows against the darkening sky. I smelled autumn in the air; a familiar and comforting scent I associate with falling leaves and crisp apples. But for today, at least, the leaves are still hanging on the trees and rustling in the wind. I closed my eyes as Alex drove and just enjoyed the cool breeze in my face.

After a short visit with my mom and sister we hurried back home, relying on the scant moonlight to help navigate the narrow road. I reveled in the joy I always experience at the first kiss of autumn; the rich smells, glorious colors, crunching sounds and the feel of the brisk air.

In the few short minutes it took to get home it dawned on me that I was truly content. For a brief moment tonight I experienced an elusive, absolute sense of well-being. As Robert Browning said “God’s in his Heaven - All’s right with the world!”

I wish I could keep the feeling all the time. I wish I could let go of my worries and troubles and leave them where they fall. But, like Paul,

I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do. (Romans 7:15)

I try to drop my burdens, and for periods of time I can, but before I know it, I’ve packed them back up and strapped them on for the journey.

Jesus tells us to come to Him and He will give us rest.

Do I trust Him? Absolutely. So why do I still find it difficult to stop depending solely on myself, to think I have to find the solution or always be in control of the situation. I don’t even want to. It is hard work and I am tired. I long for that rest that He speaks of, yet I find myself almost fighting against it at times.

This is one truth I must re-learn again and again. My worries are like those autumn leaves hanging on the trees for dear life. I need to trust God and let go of them; let them swirl and dance into the wind and out of my mind. I need to remind myself to be ever vigilant. To seek God in prayer, give Him my burdens, and then move on; don’t look back and by all means, don’t pick them back up.

Matthew 11:28-30 Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.