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In A Moment

23 Saturday May 2026

Posted by in In Memory, Life, Reflections

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It’s been a moment or two since we met here. My moments have not easily shared with the computer lately, but today I am prompted by how quickly time alters the very ground we walk on. Your shaky ground may be as simple as waiting in line with the cramps and a crying baby. Or, it may be of the magnitude that leaves your life never the same. Whatever the moment holds, remember it will change, and with all the good moments to help, you will survive. I read in a book by Martha W. Hickman, (and I wish I could find the exact quotation) that the interruptions into what we thought was our life, are not interruptions at all, but are indeed our life. The moments, all of them, become the life we are living, and how we survive them, is most likely, who we are.

You know, the moments we live, can drag on like cold molasses, or they can vanish, literally in a breath. One example is that as I write, my daughter is awaiting twice-delayed departure times from an airport (slow moments); then suddenly the plane that was late arrived, boarded, and in the blink of an eye she will be hundreds of miles away (fast moments). These moments come and go quickly, even if we are waiting impatiently in a very long line; and breath by breath, we are passing them one by one. Moments, and the people who live them, are what tickle my writer’s yen. Because every one of them matter, we do well to take notice of not only how we are using them, but also, how the world around us is faring through their moments. We both know some moments are mere inconveniences, while others have grabbed you by the shoulders and spun you around and you may still be spinning. Either way, they are your moments, and they are important. Today, I’m just focused on our surviving them. One thing about moments I have noticed, is that they are always shared. Because I believe in the eternal all-knowing God of the universe, I know our moments are not alone.

All spring I have been concerned about the drought; crops, water levels, and trees with too little water in the soil. Now, as we are in our — what, third or fourth day of rain this week — should I worry about them all sliding downhill, or toppling over with soggy roots and heavy tops? Nothing stays the same. But this time, I wasn’t worried. After fifty plus years of farming, we learned to enjoy the good, and wait a moment, for God will take care of us through the bad.

I met a new organism last week; one I do not care to ever encounter again, because apparently rhinovirus enjoys hanging around and creating havoc, but my body does not share the enthusiasm. I have formed all sorts of immune responses along with medical community assistance, but one lobe of a lung is still harboring resentment. A whole week of moments, gone — and like my lung — I resent it. This is life however, and I’ll take it, even with the bugs. And the prednisone and rest — wow, I had forgotten how good it could feel to walk without pain.

Pain — What a multilayered word! In a moment last weekend, a young wife and four children lost their hero. I did not know him personally, but the wife grew up with my daughter, and these are good people. How can we be going about our routine, and suddenly find ourselves scrambling for our footing and gasping for breath? In a moment. So much changes so quickly. My heart hurts for that family and I pray for their strength, and the courage to keep walking moment by moment into their changed future.

More recently, my daddy’s brother passed away this week. At 84 years old, he lived a full, busy, satisfying life; seeing his son grow up to care for him and his own family, and having an adoring wife and many relatives who care deeply for him. Uncle Glenn had a work ethic that escapes most of our generation and those who follow ours. He has had what most would call more than his fair share of suffering, but he would not complain for long. Instead, he would be right back out in the cow pasture, or the garden (gardens quite large enough to feed a community), or pulling something around somewhere with a tractor. And this was just in retirement. Before retirement, he was a dedicated employee and manager in a physically strenuous job, and still did all these other things, filling his moments completely and, in my opinion, not wasting a one. He took many years of moments on and off, to go to his happy place in Calico Rock, Arkansas. There he was able to share moments of fishing and nature with friends and family. I would love to have seen him in that surrounding, but it was not to be in the moments for me. I’m happy to know he got to do what he loved to do, fill so many moments with positive energy, and enjoy telling about it.

We have to wonder why; why are some lives made of many moments and others so few. We wonder why — and it is natural to wonder because God gave us the ability to do so — why do the moments for some last only two years, but for others, 84 and more. You won’t hear me say things like, “God took good old aunt Flossie…” because I know God is not a taker. While Job said “the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh”, for me this was his euphemism for life ain’t always grand folks so watch who you’re pointing at. And Job said it first — the Lord gives. How can we blame a being Who gave us the amazing people in our lives in the first place, knowing all our moments will finally run out someday. The same God who put in all the wonderful, is present with us through our awful, loving, tragic, exciting, depressing, ecstatic and dull moments in life, and gave us all kinds of people to live them with us. He promises strength for our fallen times; encouragement for our depressing times; and life-long moments of love and memories and people, to bind up our broken hearts. Recall Isaiah’s promise from God; not that God would spare His people from waters, rivers, fire and flame, but that He would walk us through it all. (Isaiah 43:2)

God does allow us all kinds of wonderful, from watching a day awaken in blazing sunrise, to watching our aged loved ones in peace, at last, close their eyes. There is no denying He allows us to live through some terrible things brought on by the very real demon of this world, but — oh my friend! Never forget, God is the arm holding you up when you don’t know how. He is the bird’s morning call singing you survived. He is the friend’s flowers, the parents’ touch, the young child’s laughter, and the sunrise and sunset you will experience again, in your moments He has granted you. His grace will sustain your moments until, as His child, you will have the never-ending moments of eternity where all mysteries are known, and you get to live with the love of all love, bigger than all the bad moments we could ever know.

Please be assured, I am not at all making small of big problems. Since the world began, there has been disaster at all levels. I only want to share that God is bigger than all the disasters, all problems, all disappointments. He is the fixing of the problems; He is the coming together of solutions; and He is the giver of all life and the moments within.

Love, Trisha

Southern Brick Wall

28 Wednesday Jan 2026

Posted by in Encouragement

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I gazed longingly at my old flip-flops abandoned in a corner of the sunroom. I knew it would be a while before my fur baby and I could run out quickly in pjs and flip-flops, he without his doggy sweater. Seven inches of snow and sleet with temperatures in the single digits and teens, assured me this would be with us more than a moment. With gratitude for a warm house, running water, food in the freezer, and hot coffee, I am content — until I see the worn out flip-flops; and I wish I were wearing them now. Life has a way of yanking us back and forth from sighs of gratitude, to collisions of complaining, to relief of respite. Please, if I complain about the heat next July, just slap me!

Still, the sheen of sunshine over a pristine blanket of snow is a sight hard not to appreciate. But what if we were without electricity as many of our southern neighbors are. Oh, I know what if…we have been there before — feeding fuel into a portable generator, packing coolers of water into the house, flushing toilets with gallon jugs of water, and gathering by the gas logs while the generator rests. I recall in our former house, which was over 90 years old, opening the cabinet doors and leaving the water dripping even with electricity, and then keeping the hair dryer ready to start thawing the pipes anyway! Oh yes, I know how quickly the beautiful, playful snow and sparkling ice diamonds can become a pain in the neck. And yet, I am content to watch the season play itself out, appreciate the beauty, and be prepared for the beast. Life is as unpredictable as our state of heart.

Yesterday the temperature was 15 degrees after the sun had shone half the day, and as I watched my little Auggie scamper around on the frozen surface, I reached out and placed my hand on the southern-facing brick wall of the garage. I could feel warmth through my glove. “Surely”, I thought, “this wall cannot be warm on a day like today”.  Other days, yes; but how can this frigid air not stand between my wall and the sun? With a glove removed, I reached out, and sure enough, the wall was warm. Just as I had experienced in cold — but not as cold of weather — my southern brick wall was still soaking up and sharing the warmth of the winter sun living in the southern sky. We all need a Southern Brick Wall. When the bad comes in blizzards, and the coldness of the world reaches out to chill our hearts, we need a warm brick wall. Standing between us and the howling winds of heartache and harm, they absorb the warm rays of the Lord, penetrating even the coldest of days.

Someone who can be your southern brick wall, is someone who faces God, as the wall faces the south; looking to God for the warmth of His love and the truth of His word, that he or she may exude the same upon you in your days of chill and change. Our southern brick wall holds a heart of warmth where we can lean for the support and respite we need to continue on, and not be rocked off our feet by a blast of bitterness. Our southern brick wall will not allow the world’s attractions to cause her to abandon us. Most importantly, our southern brick wall will tell you she is not perfect. She too, can crumble, and become unintentionally cold with her own shadows, but will always point you toward the Son, Who never changes. “Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and comes down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow of turning” (James 1:17 NKJV). “The grass withers, the flower fades, but the word of our God stands forever” (Isaiah 40:8).

Change is impossible to avoid, and as we await the mush of spring thaws, we can also watch for the daffodil shoots and look forward to the freshness of their aroma. We will be aware of the likelihood of spring storms, but we also know where our southern brick walls are. Look for that person in your life who knows how to stand strong for you; who has strengthened themselves on the riches of God’s word and can help you walk through the worst. Better yet, soak up the love of the Lord yourself that you may stand ready when someone you know needs a strong, warm, southern brick wall. 

Something Good in All of Us

07 Sunday Sep 2025

Posted by in Encouragement, Life

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“There is so much good in the worst of us, and so much bad in the best of us, that it ill behooves any of us to find fault with the rest of us.” James Truslow Adams

To look at these tired bug-eaten bean plants, you would not expect anything worthwhile to come from them. Do we ever look at people that way? Do we feel like giving up? Last week I was ready to pull up the vines, hoping to make a less withered-looking garden spot. But, in true bean-lover form, I thought I would take one more look. Hot dry weather, a gardener who lost her will to weed, time and bugs, have worked on them for sure. People, too, get beat down, worn out and tested, but God — how many times in scripture do we read “but God…” — made it better, or saved entirely, a dire situation. Example: “And the patriarchs, becoming envious, sold Joseph into Egypt. But God was with him. ( Acts 7:9)

Now look at that little one-gallon ice-cream bucket there beside the row. Beneath these spindly Blue Lake bushes, remained the little moisture and will to live, given by the Lord Himself. Underneath the bushes, I found long tender beans just waiting to be noticed.

As a gardener in a garden, God the Father plants us, waters and nourishes us with all good spiritual gifts, sacrificed blood, sweat, and tears for us, and prepares a table for His expected harvest. He did not give up on you or me nor all humanity. He sees. We search. He loves. We try again. “Therefore, my beloved brethren, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that your labor is not in vain in the Lord.” (I Corinthians 15:58)

By the time I finished both rows, I had two of those little buckets full; and a heart full of resolution to look harder for the good in everyone, as well to surrender the “I’m too old to be useful” idea. Like Daddy’s little ice-cream buckets, we can be repurposed and useful as long as we last. I’m not pulling up those green bean plants. I saw several blooms and baby beans that, who knows, just might make it to another dinner table. I don’t see them giving up until we, or Jack Frost, tell them to.

Never give up — on yourself, or anyone else — while there is life there is hope. “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” (Philippians 4:13)