Fair to Middlin’

31 Sunday Jul 2016

Posted by trishascoffeebreak in inspiration, Life, Uncategorized

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Everyone enjoys a little confidence booster every now and then, right? Okay, we would accept a daily dose of it provided it was offered! Today I got one of those little boosts. I received a phone call from a very sweet, and I don’t think she will mind that I say elderly, lady from our community. Not only do I admire her for her stamina through illnesses, losses and aging, but just in general as a real lady. Gail Dunn is the wife of our retired elementary school principal, the mother of three beautiful children and has many grandchildren. With all that and a large extended family, I wouldn’t expect her to take the time to phone me just to tell me how much she enjoys reading my posts. But she did. And that meant the world to me. As I said in the intro to my blog, I just enjoy writing about life, giving glory and honor to God; and if others get any pleasure from it, then that is like icing on the cake. Gail has told me that she would like to see me write more. I needed that encouragement. Sometimes I think about writing a book of encouragement, and then I get distracted, even discouraged. But then a sweetheart like her reminds me that God may have given me a purpose with writing.

I asked Gail about her health and that of her husband. To this she modestly replied, “Oh, fair to middlin’ at least for going on 80 years old”. I laughed because I’ve heard that phrase most of my life and I understand it to mean, “I can’t be an honest person and tell you I am doing well, and I’m too polite to go on about health problems”, and it carries the implication that right now I’m about as good as it gets. I actually heard myself use that very phrase last week. Yikes! I’m very possible becoming that parental (to quote my daughter) generation, with all its ups and downs. More ups than downs when you know someone like Gail.

Mr. and Mrs. Dunn have been pillars of the community for longer than I’ve been a part of it. Quiet, unassuming, but strong in character and always smiling and showing interest in others. Just like asking today about the welfare of our children, they have shown that kind of interest in the hundreds of young people who passed through the doors of his elementary school and the churches they’ve attended. They have opened their home with generous hospitality to many a crowd. They’ve given much-needed advice to young parents, and have been great role models for all those kids as well.

I recall that they used to grow blueberries when they lived “out in the country”, and they often opened their blueberry season to friends. Being a blueberry lover myself, that one stuck in my mind. An impressive encounter with Gail’s husband Ray, was when I applied for a bus driving position for the district where he was principal. Knowing I had not been the most punctual parent throughout my son’s kindergarten and first grade years, he looked across his desk, over the top of his reader glasses, and said, “You WILL NOT bring a bus in late, right?” I left with the position, although on shaky legs. One doesn’t fail to live up to an expectation stated just that way. I wasn’t ever late unless it was due to weather or bus break down. Another very appreciated occasion in his presence was when my son had leg surgery between Kindergarten and first grade, and so started to school with a cast and crutches. Mr Dunn asked me into his office, and explained how children never want to be different. They want to be just like everyone else for the most part; and that the cast and crutches made my little boy feel different, so if he acted different from before, well, he was different. He gave to me a set of tapes made by Zig Ziggler that had amazing parenting and kid advice. He didn’t have to do that. But that’s the kind of caring, concerned people the Dunn’s are.

I don’t know all about their lives, but I do know that Gail lost a sister tragically to an automobile accident; that Gail has assisted many years with their aging parents; dealt with their son’s juvenile diabetes; and did all those behind the scenes responsibilities that make a successful husband’s life easier. Gail has the most peaceful smile and voice you could ever hope to know. Gail and Ray have had their own share of health problems. And, I don’t even know the half of it!! Like I said, we knew them through our children’s elementary school years, and my mother taught third grade under Mr. Dunn’s leadership. We attended church with them at two different congregations over the years. Never did I hear anyone say anything negative about this lovely couple. Their children adore them, and their community admires them. Fair -to-middlin? I don’t think so Gail. I think you are great-and- gettin’ better!! The first two verses of Proverbs chapter three portray Gail and Ray’s life so well. “My son, do not forget my law, but let your heart keep my commands; for length of days and long life and peace they will add to you.”

I love the next four verses, Proverbs 3: 3-6, in which we are told to keep God’s truth, even bound around our neck, written on our hearts, finding favor and high esteem in the sight of God and mankind. ( Just as the Dunn’s have.) Trusting in the Lord, leaning not on our own understanding, in all our ways acknowledging Him, and He will direct our paths. Gail’s phone call reminded me that if she could take the time for such an encouraging call, I can devote more time to writing and encouraging. Several other verses of scripture refer to “writing on the heart”. Gail wrote on my heart today. I hope that out of my heart will come encouragement for others.

We never know what good things God will do with what we give. That little incidental kind thought you have for someone today could be the rope they need tomorrow. So, go ahead and speak that kind thought to them. Life already has too much bashing and belittling. Let us counteract that with encouragement, words of kindness and acts of generosity.

“A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in settings of silver”. Proverbs 25:11

Til The Last One’s In

12 Tuesday Jul 2016

Posted by trishascoffeebreak in Nature

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day's end, inspiration

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The man I married is barely recognizable. I mean, who is this man? Oh, he has enough of the same physical resemblance for anyone to know him, with just the usual aging changes. I’m talking about the things he has learned to care about, his preferences, as well as some ‘prefer nots’ if you will. As far as that goes, I’m thinking he would prefer that I not say these things, but then again, he has changed, so maybe I won’t be in too much trouble.

About four, maybe five years ago he was at an auction outside Sedalia, Kentucky where he saw this Purple Martin apartment was to be sold. He became interested and had the privilege of meeting and talking to the man who built it. Learning only a minimal amount of Martin care, but with a promise of future contact for more info/support, he decided he couldn’t come home without that big, heavy, permanently-attached-to-an-iron-pole apartment house that I named Dorothy. It reminded me of the Dorothy from the movie “Twister”. So, this man who used to pay absolutely no attention to birds, was now going to play host to a gang of Brazilians. I was impressed.

Six gourds and five Julys later we again are watching another generation of young Purple Martins flying, with approximately 30 pair of adults swooping, gliding, diving, and feeding the young. I had quickly grown accustomed to this man of mine pulling out a chair and just watching, amazed at the show as well as the concert of sounds the Martins make. But tonight was a new twist. All day we knew the babies were on the ground; well at least one or two. Another one could be seen flying outside Dorothy. By the end of the day, only one was still on the ground, and we could see that he wasn’t going to fly. He flopped his way over to a Maple tree and actually tried to climb it. With that much strength, we figured he would eventually learn to fly. Now, this part of raising Martins is not in the literature we’ve read, so assuming he fell out and wasn’t ex-communicated for being a bad bird or something, my husband said, “I can’t go in and leave that bird for something to get it in the night.” I was concerned that it wouldn’t get food, because Martins are fed until they can catch their food in flight. We were threatened by the excited adults flying over us, but have learned that their threats are only carried out against small animals, namely our cat. Said cat has spent the last four days inside because we knew it was about time for the young to leave the nests. They also escorted a Hawk off the property one day.

I was then told by this good man that I needed to go pick up the bird and put it higher in the tree and then it might fly, or be assisted by its relatives. That little rascal moved fast! After three tries with my Martin man yelling “pick that bird up and hold on to it!” I finally set him (the bird, that is) upon a metal fence post that was initially used to anchor Dorothy’s pole in cement. But as we watched, the little bird never moved. At all. No one came down to help him. And night was drawing near. My Martin man left, drove to the shed and returned on a backhoe. He said, “we’re puttin’ that bird back up on the house so they can feed him. Pick him up, get in the bucket and I’ll lift you”. That’s about a 15 foot lift. No problem. Again, three times picking up and chasing because I didn’t want to hold tightly and hurt him, so he would escape and fly just above the grass for a few feet, then stop. Third time I was able to get my hold around his whole body, wings and all. With my backhoe driver shouting over the motor, “hang onto that bird” little Martin was placed onto the lower deck of Dorothy, and we backed off. We soon returned and he took his post on the patio, watching until at last he said with great satisfaction, “He just got fed!” In a moment, he added, “He just went inside one of the rooms” and with that this father-figure took the bill of his cap, swooped the air, and proclaimed his job done. “I can go in and rest now that that little fellow is safe”, was heard as he walked toward his own house.

Did you picture all those beautiful graceful acrobats filling the sky above us? Strong, able to do what those of the swallow family do, and yet there was that one little somewhat bug-eyed awkward one on the ground; unable to do what he ought to do. The others were busy. They were excited about their new parental responsibilities. They were competing perhaps for nabbing the nearest meal and dropping it off at the proper porthole. To us it seemed the whole bird world had forgotten little Martin. But there was one who would not leave one seemingly insignificant bird on the ground. My man.

Isn’t that the parable of Matthew 18:10-14? “Take heed that you do not despise one of these little ones, for I say to you that in heaven their angels always see the face of My Father who is in heaven. For the Son of Man has come to save that which was lost. What do you think? If a man has a hundred sheep, and one of them goes astray, does he not leave the ninety-nine and go to the mountains to seek the one that is straying? And if he should find it, assuredly, I say to you, he rejoices more over that sheep than over the ninety-nine that did not go astray. Even so it is not the will of your Father who is in heaven that one of these little ones should perish.”

As darkness wrapped its muggy blanket around my back, my face was toward the Purple Martin apartments, watching the last ones flying in home. Their yodel-ish chatterings quieted down, the air became still, and heavy with contentment. Their last one was in. And so were we.

Together Again -the Violets are Gone.

09 Saturday Jul 2016

Posted by trishascoffeebreak in Uncategorized

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I start this post with the following excerpt from one of my earlier posts, “Wild Violets – Our House Blend”. It is with sadness and joy that I write a follow-up.

(2009) l left Hilda Mae’s house that day with tears in my eyes for I knew Mama would never physically be with her beloved cousins again. About three months later as she lay in her last day on this earth, two of these sweet violets came to visit her in the hospital, and their names were the last names my mother ever spoke. As they walked into the room, she looked up, and with a sudden spurt of excitement she exclaimed, “Why! Fannie Sue and Hilda May!”. She smiled weakly, but with great satisfaction. Our cousins sat for a while and visited with me and we spoke fondly of our last visit early that Spring. At the ages of 89 and 87 those precious ladies were still out doing good for others, carrying out the work of their Father. How beautiful the feet of those who go! As grateful as I was then for their visit, that gratitude has grown even more over time, that God brought one of His sweetest bouquets in to Mama on her last day. And then Mama’s visit was over.

Follow up:

Today, May 20, 2016, just eleven days short of her 96th birthday, Fannie Sue Rogers left us to join her ancestors who are sleeping in the Lord. The final one of the four ‘Violets’ in my 2013 post, had been able to live at home until the end of her life. Since their photograph together with their wild violets had inspired me to write, they have been leaving the photograph one by one. As I picture them all together again, I feel sad that the era of true grit in women has almost reached an end. At the same time I feel joy for the knowledge that they really are together, this time in perfect peace. No tears, no pain, no sadness will ever be known again to these four. I thank God that I had the opportunity to know and love each one.

One of the last things Fannie Sue said to me was, “to really enjoy your garden, you have to walk through it every day”. “Even when there’s no gardening to be done there?”, I asked. “Yes, even then, walk through it every day”, she replied. I’ve been doing that, and she was right!

As I close now (almost two months after starting this) I hope each of the marvelous women in all of our lives know how much they impacted us for the good; as well as how much they change the world around them even today. As this world and the people in it change, I long more deeply than ever to talk with my aunts and great aunts, the way we used to talk. It is hot July and the violet blossoms are gone. Their little offspring popping up all around, pushing their way into flower beds and shrubbery everywhere, are waiting for late winter when they begin that pretty purple show again. I’m not sure I can ever measure up to the grand old violets of the generations before me – no, of course I can’t, but in their honor, I will be caught trying. We simply aren’t made of that tough fabric. We however have other talents, love, and work to offer from our generation. My main concern is, are we impacting the next generation to do the same? Or are we leaving a gap in which the knowledge for survival, the building of faith, and the passion for real life is engulfed never to be seen by our children and future generations? I know many of my peers have arrived at this bridge already, and are doing a great job of transferring the grit to their own. I am pleased with the work ethics my husband passed on to our children. What do I hope my legacy to be? I’m sad to say I can’t express that in a line or two. There’s so much I want for the future generations to experience that schools, computers, modern philosophy and such just can’t take care of. We’ve been so busy grabbing onto the new and improved, that we’ve possibly dropped the fundamentals. “He has shown you, oh man what is good; and what does the Lord require of you, but to do justly, love mercy and walk humbly with your God?” (Micah 6:8)

Thank you Mama, Fannie Sue, Hilda Mae, Johnnie Bell, and all the others before and like you for your encouragement, instruction, and examples. What gentle giants you are.

I am now going out to walk through my garden.

“Back to the Future” – and Back Again

09 Saturday Jul 2016

Posted by trishascoffeebreak in inspiration, Life, Reflections

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Remember when you ran to change into pj’s, brush your teeth and wash your face while the tape was re-winding? I did that tonight. Again. Thanks to Chad Ward, who knew I wanted a VCR to watch old movies we have. He bought one at an auction (at this time I will say a sarcastic thank you to whoever put their tape-eating VCR out there for sale, and it was worth the $3.00 we paid to throw away your stuff); HOWEVER, it was a good thing. Those cables that were labeled (a sincere thank you this time) with silk tape and hand printed ‘video out’, ‘right’, ‘left’, etc, kept telling me something. So, I tried again to connect our old (very very old) VCR to a little Magnavox TV we bought in 2004 to use in the camper. Remember those fine 10 months of camper living? Yes, well I digress…. So, connecting the way the cables were labeled, I have a functioning VCR that I had been meaning to throw away. Never once did I consider selling or unloading my junk on….never mind. Anyway, I am thrilled and so thankful to my son for finding the cables that directed my success! Tonight I watched Stargate. Two nights ago I watched Walt Disney’s Beauty and the Beast. Next, I plan to start on our Back to the Future set. I am a child at heart for sure.

Back to this very old VCR. It is an Emerson that was owned, if my memory serves me, in 1980’s by my Uncle Wade Holley. Sometime in the 1990 era, maybe even before (Jan Middleton, do you recall?) it left Tenn and we came to have it in our possession, through my mother, I think. Next, it left Kentucky, going with our daughter Steffy when she left home and moved to Illinois. After she became modernized to DVDs it came back to us where we did occasionally use it. But then we also moved into the convenience of no re-wind, and I decided to move the VCR to an end table-slash-video center. I had it pictured – TV monitor on top, VCR beneath on a shelf, remote in the drawer – like the teachers used to roll around the room, to the classes’ dread or delight. For several years now I thought it coincidentally malfunctioned at that time, because when I connected the TV cables to it, nothing. Nothing. The color coded cables looked like it was hooked up right. So, the TV went back into the closet, and the VCR has been sitting first, under an entertainment center; then under a bed; and finally on a straight chair in the garage. Each time I looked at it to throw it away, I felt a melancholy plink on my heart-strings. Because it was Uncle Wade’s, and because it had been a family member for so long, moving around with us. Now I think that little plink was an inner voice that doubted the assumed death of our device. And who has time to mess with malfunctioning equipment anyway? I call our Dish selling agent anytime our TV even bats an eye, and either he or our internet carrier has to tell me (AGAIN) to just unplug it. That resets everything and life is back on track. How often do we unplug from our problems so that we can be reconnected to life?

Thinking about those properly labeled cables, I was reminded of how often we go about life thinking we are connected to God, but for some reason, we just aren’t “getting anything out of it”. As the saying goes, “the lights are on but nobody’s home” when it comes to faith. I don’t claim to be an expert on faith, but I do know I’ve grown as I’ve studied God’s Word, and the growing has been good beyond description. I’m thinking I, and many others like me, just needed to adjust the cables. Following our own way, or the world’s suggestions, it may look like the plugs are in the right ports, but would likely leave us with a screen of dancing geometric designs and an ear full of static. Reading God’s instructions, like the labels on the cables, makes all the difference in our connection. I’ve always said that I know God didn’t just make us, wind us up, and then turn us loose to go hither-skither without direction or purpose. He gave us a manual, and in many cases, an instructional video. “Folly is joy to him who is destitute of discernment, but a man of understanding walks uprightly. Without counsel, plans go awry, but in the multitude of counselors they are established.” (Proverb 15:21-22) At times, I still have to recheck the connection. My cables may pull loose if I move too far away from God’s Word for a bit. My cables could become frayed if I let the waves of life knock me around too fiercely because I wasn’t keeping my eyes on the Lighthouse. “But let him ask in faith, with no doubting, for he who doubts is like a wave of the sea driven and tossed by the wind.” (James 1:6) If I forgot to tap into His power with daily prayer my cables would surely lose their connection. “Pray without ceasing.”(I Thessalonians 5:17) Clearly, if I want the big picture, I need proper connection.

Connecting the VCR to the television screen, there were three separate plugs on each end of a single unified cable. I saw those three standing for prayer (audio output), studying the word of God (video input) and sharing the wonderful message of His love made perfect in Christ (video output). Using these allows us to enjoy the connection God intended us to have, giving us the most magnificent view of life as it happens.

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct your paths.” (Proverbs 3:5-6)

Of course, I could also see those three plugs as the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, all making up the single unified Godhead. But that would be for another blogging day.

Meanwhile, I shall enjoy returning now and then to a piece of the past; reliving some great times when our kids were young and one of their favorite weekend activities was to go to the video store, rent a VCR and pick out a couple of movies to take home. As long as we stayed in the sections rated PG we felt pretty safe about what we’d see or hear on those movies. How I wish that were the case today! Wouldn’t it be sadly ironic if I got so wrapped up in watching old movies that I stole time away from my studies in God’s word? I promise I’ll try to keep my cables straight.

If I don’t close and get some sleep, it will take more than a pot of coffee to get me going in the morning! May we go to God, the source of our faith, to plug into His power through his word, daily study and meditation, and prayer. Dear Father, please bless these words to bring glory to You, and bless any who read this, to be fully connected to You through Jesus Your Son. In His name, amen.