GRANDMA

She wasn’t really my grandma

She was my great grandma

Tiny

Think Granny Clampett

Hair in a little bun 

She dipped snuff

And spit in an old peach can

Had a swept  yard 

A wall of stacked stone holding the Georgia red clay dirt

Unlike Grisham’s novel her house never got painted

Sunday trips to see her and Grandpa in Lathemtown

She was Angeline (Angie) Lou Clementine Lathem White

We always went in the back door

by the well with a dipper hanging for any thirst needing to be quenched 

A butter churn by the back door

We took home butter from that churn wrapped in wax paper

One coal stove in her and Grandpa’s bedroom in the middle of the house

Of course, there was an outhouse 

Scary to a little girl but glad I had the experience 

Always a trip to the cemetery to visit the graves of beloved relatives 

My grandparents and Momma’s baby sister, Georgia Janeel, who died at eighteen months

Nighttime was sleeping in a feather bed weighed down with quilts to keep me warm 

One lone lightbulb hanging from the ceiling

til Daddy turned it off

Total darkness 

Sunrise and the sound of a rooster crowing 

Once I saw Grandma wring a chicken’s neck

rather forget that experience

Last memory

Our usual Sunday visit

Grandma in her rocker on the front porch 

Grandpa in his big wooden wheelchair 

Think Mr. Potter in It’s a Wonderful Life

My last memory of Grandma was taking her favorite snack to her

Peanut butter (probably Skippy) on Ritz crackers and some orange juice

We left after sweet goodbyes with our butter in wax paper

She went to Heaven June 18, 1957

We continued the Sunday trips to see Grandpa and the many cousins 

and to visit the graves of our beloved.

It was a hot summer day. I was the second car back at the traffic light. I saw a man, thirties or early forties, walking, backpack on, and sweating…I could see sweat dripping off his beard. I wanted to cry…obviously, he was returning home from a long, tiring day.

I remembered I had a case of bottled water in the floor behind me…I reached back and managed to retrieve a bottle. I had a ten dollar bill in my wallet, and I always carry some simple Gospel tracts in my car. The light turned green, and I made a left turn and followed him about a block when he turned into a street and was walking through the parking lot of a tire store. I pulled in and called to him from my window. I said something like, “Looks like you you’ve had a long day and could use a water.”.

He gratefully took the water with the money wrapped around it and the tract. I’m sorry I didn’t ask his name, but God knows and “God sees”. I prayed for him…nameless to me but not to God. My big takeaway…always keep water, some cash, and tracts in my car. Be ready…sometimes “God sees” through me.

About a week later I was driving through the Kroger parking lot and a lady was cleaning what I think are drains at the gas pumps. Just pulled over this time and asked if she would like a water. Got a big smile and thank you from her! Said she could finish the job now! Didn’t give money or tract this time…fell down on my commitment. Never again!

Fast forward…this time, Whole Foods parking lot. I see a young woman holding a sign indicating the need for rent money. I had a twenty, water and tract. I stopped and asked her name and her son’s…”Sandra and Alex”. This time out of my mouth came, “I want you to know God sees you, and I will pray for you.” NOW my assignment is clear…with every assistance tell the recipient “God sees” them, and that I will pray for them!

Last week I pulled up to a light at our town Square, looked over and saw a man sitting and leaning on a building. Obviously begging, as people walking by were either oblivious or aggravated. I circled the Square so I could pull up to the curb where he was. I rolled my window down, and he immediately came to my car. I am now saying what God has directed. After asking his name (Alphonso) I told him, “God sees you, and I will be praying for you.”.

I’ve started a “God sees you” prayer list. Just Sandra, Alex and Alphonso so far but trust there will be others. Join me in allowing your eyes to see the weary, the discouraged, the forgotten with His. Be prepared…with HOPE. The fields are white unto harvest.

I retired my school shoes, lace up saddle oxfords, the first day of summer and traded them for Keds (I had a pair in red and one in blue.) or preferably just going barefoot. My bare feet toughened up pretty quickly as I ran around the neighborhood enjoying the FREEDOM of childhood summers.

Waking up to open windows with only a thin screen between me and the great outdoors was heavenly. A gentle breeze blowing the starched organdy curtains in my ever so PINK bedroom. Sunlight dancing on the walls and calling me to “get up and come play”!

I could see my neighborhood school from the front yard…it was absent of me and my friends squealing on the playground. We had abandoned it Memorial Day and wouldn’t revisit it until after Labor Day! Three months of bliss had started…days to just unfold in “all things summer”.

Only the rich among us had their own swimming pool so my respite on those hot Georgia days was running through the sprinkler! We didn’t take fancy vacations but had a summer visit to my Aunt Muriel’s every year.

Going to her home in South Carolina was a highly anticipated treat! She lived on the Black Mingo…a river so named because it looked as black as ink. Momma wouldn’t let me swim in the river. There truly were alligators in there! This, however, did not stop the cousins from skiing and swimming in that black water! I watched from the dock…

I was “horse crazy” so the main attraction at her house was the horses! There was a white pony named Pet who had her own little cart! She was definitely best suited for the cart; when we saddled her she would blow up her belly and you might find yourself sideways, hanging on for dear life. Then there was Goldie, a beautiful palomino…think Roy Rogers and Trigger! The biggest horse was Ernie…a HUGE hunter used for fox hunts. There were others, too, but these three are stamped on my memory.

We had saddle bags which we filled with maypops for attacking each other as we “hid out” in the tobacco fields! It was an idyllic childhood for my cousins and me, and the “not blood” cousins from the other side of my aunt’s family. The kind you acquire through marriage!

It took several hours to get there…this was pre-interstate! We usually left late in the day so we children would fall asleep during the long drive. Even the trip was fun for us… a mattress in the back of my uncle’s station wagon made a good place to anticipate our destination!

These are still some of my sweetest memories…”nothin’ could be finer than to be in Carolina” still plays in my head and heart. Thank you, Aunt Muriel, for all this fun…AND your name. The best gift!

THE PHARISEE IN ME

The Pharisee in me

is sometimes all I see.

The tendency to judge and scold,

to be self-righteous and so cold;

to sit upon my man-made throne

and look down upon one who feels alone.

My heart cries, “Rid me of this great sin,

melt my heart and let me love again.”

Not in eyes of judgement will Your face they see,

but only through eyes of mercy

will the prisoners be set free.

PRAYER OF A SAINT.

O, Holy One of Israel, hold my hand and keep me still.

Help me walk at a steady pace, keep me looking into Your face.

Be my rock, my shield forever, birth within me each endeavor.

God, forbid that I should fail to look beyond this earthly veil into the place where You do live, where holy love is Yours to give.

Take me up into the heights. Take me where my soul delights to show me what You have for me. O, give me a glimpse of eternity. Amen.

OUR MAKER

You are the maker of us all, rich and poor, great and small.

You breathed into each the breath of life and called us to be your adoring wife.

You have raised us up in liberty that we might fall before your majesty.

To see your face and hear your voice comes to us an eternal choice.

Within us all, we know that You can touch us once and make us new.

A life once broken, torn and lost has been redeemed upon your cross.

Take your Church, and gently break her, because, O God, You are her Maker.

AT HIS FEET

What do You want of me, Lord of my life, but to sit at Your feet and be Your own wife.

This is my heart’s cry from deep in my soul. Your words how they cleanse me and make me feel whole.

I delight in Your feet, O, how lovely they are; each one a blessing, each bearing a scar.

You suffered and died upon Calvary’s crude tree and laid down Your life for poor wretched me.

Remind me, dear Savior, my own precious Lord, that to sit at Your feet is my eternal reward.

For some reason we got a late start to our beloved St. Simons one year and arrived about midnight, or possibly even later. I walked out on the front porch of the beach house and something spectacular took my breath away…stars, seemingly thousands of stars, filling that dark night sky! Living in town with so much artificial light had hidden all this beauty from sight. Suddenly in that pristine sky, not marred by street lights, I stood in awe and took in the heavens “declaring the glory of God”. (Psalm 19:1) I was reminded of it this morning and needed to write it down.

When oldest grandson, Clay, now a married young man, was in kindergarten I picked him up one day. On the drive home, I heard from the back seat, “G-mommie, when do the stars shine?”. Of course, I answered with the response he was hoping for, “At night”, I said. It was his “gotcha” moment! “No”, he said, “all the time!” He was right…the stars shine “all the time”! It takes the darkness to reveal them to us.

This brings me to the great truth I gained from this long ago conversation with a very bright five year old. Once the sun comes out the stars are hidden…still there, but out of sight. That’s how it will be when Jesus, the glorious Son, comes, all others now reflecting His glory will be unseen. Twice in the second chapter of Isaiah we are told, “The Lord alone will be exalted in that day.”. (vss. 11,13)

In these days of darkness we must “Let our light so shine before men, that they may see our good works, and GLORIFY OUR FATHER IN HEAVEN.” It’s time to be those stars that Daniel speaks of…”And those who are wise shall shine like the brightness of the sky, and those who turn many to righteousness, like the stars forever and ever.” (Daniel 12:3) When the Son comes, we will be unseen. On that day all glory will be His alone, the ONLY ONE WORTHY.

It popped up on my cell phone…the number of the school where I’ve worked for over twenty years. In the midst of a national pandemic I suspected CHANGE was coming. Yes, change was the reason for the call. A Zoom meeting was scheduled for the following morning with our headmaster and my principal.

Things are very unpredictable (an understatement!) now for all businesses, and private schools, in particular, are having to make difficult decisions. With love and compassion they broke the news that I and two others wouldn’t receive contracts for the coming year. I knew it was a difficult decision and news that was painful for them to deliver. Some tears started for me but only because I’ve loved my job and those with whom I’ve worked over the years.

I assured them that I anticipated the news and understood that it was a difficult but necessary decision. There were reassuring words among us that we’ve become like family and that won’t change. Gratefully, some things don’t change.

My wonderful family and friends responded with love and encouraging words. I know that this is God’s timing and perfect plan. It was early spring when I got the news. Now moving toward summer, there’s time to rest and listen for God’s direction. Psalm 32:8 is my “go to” verse for assurance that the path will be clear. “I will teach you in the way you should go. I will guide you with my eye upon you.” That’s what my Good Shepherd has always done so I wait and listen for His good plan….content and “at ease”.

I want to be a footnote

that’s all I long to be.

Not wanting to be noticed

just glorifying Thee.

At the bottom of the page

with a number by my name

It says of me she always was

aware of her feeble frame.

Not ever really wanting to

be on the Title pages

Just content to be a footnote

to the God of all the ages.

(Footnote-Something related to but of lesser importance than a larger work or occurrence.)

It’s 6:58 on Sunday, April 5th, Palm Sunday. It’s been a glorious sunny day for people to enjoy the outdoors as we all “shelter in place”. I took what I hope was a “legal drive” to the neighborhood where I lived for over fifty years to see if the dogwoods were blooming. They have begun to open but usually wait to tell their “resurrection story” as close as possible to Easter. Appropriate if you are familiar with a legend told by many in the South…

“The legend holds that the tree was once very large, like a Great Oak tree, and because its wood was strong and sturdy, it provided building material for a variety of purposes. According to the story, it was the dogwood tree that provided the wood used to build the cross on which Jesus was crucified.

Because of its role in the crucifixion, it is said that God both cursed and blessed the tree. It was cursed to forever be small, so that it would never grow large enough again for its wood to be used as a cross for a crucifixion. It’s branches would be narrow and crooked–not good for building at all. 

At the same time, however, the tree was blessed so that it would produce beautiful flowers each spring, just in time for Easter. To remember God’s promise to the tree it is said he gave it a few traits so that whoever looks upon it will never forget. 

The petals of the dogwood actually form the shape of a cross. Upon close examination, it can be seen that the blooms of the tree always have four petals.

The middle of the Dogwood flower has a tight grouping resembling a “crown of thorns.” And the tips of each of the petals are indented, as if they bear a nail dent.

There are even colors in the petals that bring to mind the drops of blood that spilled during the crucifixion. So there you have it, the Legend of the Dogwood Tree.” (excerpted from Simpson Nurseries)

It’s legend, of course, but the symbolism isn’t lost on me. It is always refreshing to my soul when they began to bloom…a reminder that “For lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone. The flowers appear on the earth; the time of singing has come, and the voice of the turtle dove is heard in our land.” Song of Solomon 2:11,12

In the midst of the present chaos, grief and unprecedented times let that little tree remind us all that JESUS CAME. Why did he come? To die for our sins, to make us new creations in Him, and that we might live with the PROMISE OF HEAVEN.

Slowing down and beings advised by our governing authorities to stay home have been, in some ways, needed and welcomed restrictions. In a day when our American culture and the world run 24/7 there is a bit of a collective sigh of relief in this IMPOSED sabbatical. Definition- sabbatical: a rest or break from work

The cause is beyond distressing and, lest we forget, not all are in a state of rest OR having a break from work. Those on the front lines, from our doctors, nurses, healthcare workers to the government officials making daily life-altering decisions, need our prayers. This is a time for serious, intentional prayer that cries to God for His strength, wisdom and counsel for all. The watchword of the hour is “unprecedented”.

While there is much speculation about the reason this ENEMY virus is moving among us, we must keep in mind the SOVEREIGNTY of our faithful God. We need to look to Him as our “refuge and strength; an ever present help in time of trouble”. Psalm 46:1

He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will abide in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say to the Lord, “My refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.” Psalm 91:1,2

Sitting here on this Sunday morning and enjoying a needed and appreciated “day of rest”. A major source of my pleasure is observing the birds that come to my feeder. A thoughtful friend gave me a beautiful copper feeder that hangs within sight of my “quiet time” chair.

This morning I’m reminded of how God observes the birds and encourages us to do the same. “Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?” Matthew 6:26

He speaks of His oversight of even the tiny, seemingly insignificant, little sparrow. “Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? And not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father.” Matthew 10:29

Birds were a part of His plan from the beginning…And God said, “Let the waters swarm with swarms of living creatures, and let birds fly above the earth across the expanse of the heavens.” So God created the great sea creatures and every living creature that moves, with which the waters swarm, according to their kinds, and every winged bird according to its kind. And God saw that it was good. And God blessed them, saying, “Be fruitful and multiply and fill the waters in the seas, and let birds multiply on the earth.” And there was evening and there was morning, the fifth day. Genesis 1:20-23

When God began His creation He knew what lessons we would learn from the birds. He knew the joy they would bring as we “watch” them just as He does.

Years ago I memorized a little poem that I’m sure was inspired by scripture. I share it now with the hope that it will bless you as much as it does me…maybe even prompt you to do some “birdwatching”!

“The Robin and the Sparrow”
Said the robin to the sparrow,
“I should really like to know,
Why these anxious human beings
Rush about and worry so.”
Said the sparrow to the robin,
“Friend I think that it must be,
That they have no Heavenly Father,
Such as cares for you and me.