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Thursday, January 24, 2013

Two are better than one










He sat beside me in church.  Two hearts broken, kindred spirits in grief.  Not sharing much for over an hour, simply a pew and the same sense of sadness and loss.  At one point he simply slid the brochure to me.  Her picture was on the front and her whole life was summed up in a few short paragraphs on the inside pages.  A lump was in my throat and it was hard to swallow....to even breathe as I tried to control my emotions.  I knew his pain as I poured over every feature of her face.  Her blue eyes met mine and I mourned her loss, his loss..and mine.  Silent tears ran down my face and settled salty inside my mouth. I started to take deep breaths and exhale through my nose.  Someone, somewhere, said that was suppose to be helpful.  I met my husband's eyes as he stood at the front pouring over the third chapter of  Hebrews. I heard him vaguely in the background teaching above the roaring in my ears.  It happens quite randomly..this crashing wave of emotions but when it comes, there is no escape.  You just ride it out.  We stare at each other across the room, quiet and yet speaking a thousand words that only the two of us understood in that moment. 




Once the service is over we remain in our seats as people move around us and we share where we are and how far we aren't....We talk about sleep and the lack thereof.  The irrational thinking and the deep pit of sadness. We talk about people that were a part of us, who gave us life... and somewhere in the middle of it all we relive their death. But somehow it's easier...because we are doing it together.  We laugh about how a song can be the phrase you remember they always said.  And how life seems so different and how it is not our life to do with as we please. He gently reminds me that we have given our lives to someone else and how quitting is not an option although it seems the most plausible choice. And I listen.. and occassionally lay my hand across his arm as a silent comfort of mutual understanding.  There is alot more to be said..but it will have to wait and we are both okay with that. We know there will be another time and that a heart can only hold so much at a time.  I went home having no idea what Hebrews Chapter 3 was about..and yet I knew that I had learned something biblical.  I had experienced something spiritual.  Something I needed and someone who needed me.

Friday, January 18, 2013

Finally Home








If you've stopped by lately and there are no new posts, I'm kinda out of the whole writing thing right now. My dad passed away December 28th and for me, the world has shifted off its axis.  Grief has moved in and set up shop and he and I are becoming acquainted.  I'm not fond of grief in the least.  It changes me and my normal.  It makes me have feelings and responses that normally would not be a part of my make-up.  But somehow, I know that we are in this together for the long haul. Exhaustion has set in..everything makes me on edge.  Anything can send me into a crying jag. I don't know what to do with myself and to be honest, I don't know how to let others do anything for me.  So I ask them to pray.  Because I know that Jesus knows what to do with all of me.  I don't even have the words to say to him..but the bible assures me that the holy spirit intervenes on my behalf.

In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express. Romans 8:26 NIV

So, I'm feeling the need for quiet right now. 

Because everything else seems almost ridiculous.

Maybe forcing my self to do normal things will help eventually,

But for now, I long for peace.

I'm so excited to share with you that my Dad has found peace.  He is no longer fighting for his next breath, or wasting away his time in a dialysis chair.  His lungs are free of fluid.  I imagine he has taken up residence on the river of life that proceeds out of the throne of God...and if it's not breaking the rules, I bet he has a fishing pole he drops in between the chorus of holy, holy, holy.

What an honor it was, and yet the hardest task I've ever undertaken, to hold his hand and pray him all the way home. He had told me earlier that day "Let me die."  In essence, because of his surrender to Christ, he was actually asking to live....forever.

I'm hiding my self in the word.  It is asking me to do things that seem almost impossible...

Dear brothers and sisters, when troubles come your way, consider it an opportunity for great joy.
James 1:2 NLT

In this moment, I am not feeling any joy or even see any indication of joy on the horizon.

But I walk by faith and not by sight.  I believe God more than I do my feelings and I trust his promises.

Weeping may remain for a night, but joy comes in the morning. Psalms 30:5

Right now it seems dark in the world without my dad here.  But morning comes and he and I will walk hand in hand... because if he and my mom taught me anything...anything at all.. it was how to live to get where he is.


Sharing at Brambleberry Cottage

Sharing at 52 Mantles

Sharing at French Country Cottage

Sharing at Imparting Grace





Tuesday, December 18, 2012

Daddy's Hands


This is my daddy's hands.  They are "hard work" hands.  Hands that have caressed a rough piece of wood and crafted it into something beautiful.  Hands that have taken the materials of his trade and built a cabinet, remodeled a room, built a home.  Hands that have corrected me and consoled me. Hands that have directed me and defended me.  They are beautiful hands.  Olive toned..much like my own..and yet they are wiser and more experienced, all of which is earned with age and adversity.



My daddy's hands are special. 
 They hold they hands of our children...and dance.
And bring back memories of when we were young and I would work side by side in his shop
building things..
The smell of sawdust still evokes the best of times..when it was just me and my dad.
Sanding wood
Staining furniture
and making memories.
 
 
My daddy's hands embrace me and let me know that I am special to him..as he is to me.
 
Right now my dad's hands are dressed in needles and tape..connected to IV poles
pouring antibiotics into his body.
He's had a rough 3 years.
Dialysis isn't an interesting way to spend 12 hours of your week
Or the extra few it takes to recover.
His body is raging with fever tonight
and he is in pain..
And so am I
but not physically.
His chest tube continues to drain fluid
delaying the procedure he needs...
and all he wants is to
make it home in time for
Christmas.
 
If you're the praying type...
 
I'd appreciate it.
And I'm sure he would.
 
He has plans to cook a ham and a turkey...
and have us all there with him.
 
And that's really what I want as well.
 

Wednesday, December 12, 2012

Favoured One



Isn't she gorgeous?
 
 
 
Luke 1:30-34
 
 
 And the angel said unto her, Fear not, Mary: for thou hast found favour with God.
And, behold, thou shalt conceive in thy womb, and bring forth a son, and shalt call his name Jesus.
 He shall be great, and shall be called the Son of the Highest: and the Lord God shall give unto him the throne of his father David:
 And he shall reign over the house of Jacob for ever; and of his kingdom there shall be no end. 
 
Amen

Tuesday, December 11, 2012

Coffee Station

I've been scouting out something I could use as a coffee station for months now.  Nothing really caught my eye.  There are only two of us in our house that even drink coffee so I wanted to keep it simple.  I think the Keurig machines are cool but not really worth the expense (for me.)  Not trying to be a frugal snob but with only two of us drinking the stuff and one of those not even home most of the time, it isn't worth the cash to me.  I don't want to spend that much money on a coffee maker nor the pods that go in it..I still want to be able to buy my other treasures after all :) 
 
 
 
I found this tiered serving piece at an anitique mall this weekend while we were visiting Franklin, TN ......again.  I loved the scalloped edges and the creamy color. What I didn't love was the gold colored handles..so I spray painted them and took some of the paint off with my finger nail after it had almost dried.  I love the new look much better.
 
 
 
 
 
These sweet little Pfaltzgraff cups, I found at the GW....  4 of them for 2 bucks :)  They fit perfectly on the first plate.  They are wide and just the right height to work here.  I'm drinking out of one of them now as I type.  Wish I had taken a picture of this carmel colored deliciousness!
 
 
 
 
 
I snagged this coffee canister at a yard sale this fall and purchased the small red canisters this weekend from DG to put sugar and cappuccino in.  The little snow flake adds a winter touch to this  corner of our coffee station counter area.
 
 
 
 
I add two of these little sweethearts in my cup.  They don't even need to be refrigerated so that means they can sit on the top of the station and be handy dandy.  This girl loves some cream!  Coffee-mate makes some splendid flavors too.  Carmel Macchioto is one of our absolute favorites.
 
 
 
If you have non-coffee drinkers in your house like we do..there's always hot chocolate.
 
Happy Holidays Folks!
 
Hope you're snuggled in like we are enjoying a warm cup of coffee and admiring the lights on your tree, and most importantly reflecting on a baby in Bethlehem.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Tuesday, December 4, 2012

For the Love of the South



I love the south..have I mentioned that before?  It has a beauty reserved only for those who truly get the southern lifestyle.  Dirt roads, sweet tea, yes mam, no sir, porches, hot temperatures, fried chicken, gravy, farm land, and specifically.. y'all.  There are so many things about the south that I love... but the people, the hospitality and the love for our southern landscape is what makes me most proud to live here in this beautiful portion of the world.  I live in Arkansas but every now and then we escape for the weekend to one of our sister states.  One of my favorite places is Middle Tennessee.  Franklin to be exact.  It's a few hours drive for us but so worth the trip.  It's very close to Nashville but I'll forgo Nashville for this particular paradise.  This is Carnton Plantation.  A civil war home that was used as a field hopital during the Battle of Franklin, which is thought to be one of the bloodiest 5 hours of the Civil War.
 

What captured my heart was how John and Carrie McGavock, the owners of this plantation at the time, designated two acres of their land to bury 1500 confederate soldiers that died during the Battle of Franklin.  They maintained the cemetery themselves until the times of their death. I'd say that's a fine example of true southern hospitality...even for the fallen.  
 
 
As we toured this home, I was deeply moved by Carrie's story and her tireless efforts to maintain a record of the soldiers buried on her property.  Many of these men, both Union and Confederate, left and went to war and never came home.  Their families never knowing where their final resting place was.
 
 
The history of this home and the McGavock family is so much more complex than I can share in one post.  But being here will leave an impression.  As you tour the home and see the blood stained floors, hear of how the family's linens were torn and used to dress the wounded and walk through the cemetery where the brave men of my southern heritage are laid to rest, something inside of you shifts and you can't help but leave changed.
 
 
 
  Carnton and its cast of characters have been forever engraved on this southern girl's conscious.  Specifically as I strolled thorugh the cemetery and ended up here.
 
 
104 men gave their lives from my home state.  They rest here in Tennessee, not too far away from home...but still..they never made it home. 
 
 My beloved Arkansas, you gave birth to many brave hearts and in true southern style our neighbors stepped in when we needed them to care for our own.  Carrie McGavock, you were a true southern lady..and your legacy lives on.
 
 
 
For more information on the Carnton Plantation click here:
 
You may want to check out this great novel:
 
If you end up in Franklin, TN make sure you look up these fine folks:
 
And whatever you do..make sure you eat here:
 
And here:
 
We may see you this weekend if you're attending this:
 
And if not, make it a point to visit soon!
 
All photos in this post I personally took while touring this plantation.
Feel free to PIN :)
 
I am not being paid to advertise here..I just wanted to share a great place to visit if you are looking for a great southern gig!
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Sunday, December 2, 2012

Sacred Sundays; The Lord that healeth thee


The season has arrived where we are all bustling around trying to find the right "gift." We are so blessed...we have no real needs at this time in our lives.  We lose sight of the real meaning of Christmas with all the commercializing and plans and parties.  Those things aren't bad but they can serve as distractions.  The real  meaning of Christmas is Jesus.  He is the gift, and very often....and not just at Christmas time, I am reminded of a special gift he brought into my life.  It is a gift of life and I am certain, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he is the reason for the sustaining of that life.  See, there was a time in my life back in 1992 that I had a real need.  I needed the Lord desperately.  Like I had never needed him before.  The need was for the Lord to heal my son.

 
Blake was born a month early and whisked two hours away to a neonatal unit because he couldn't breathe on his own.  I never held him before he was taken.  I could only reach under the oxygen tent and stroke his struggling, tiny, little body. He was our only child.  We had waited a long time for this moment and suddenly I found myself faced with the realization that I might not bring him home.  I was so afraid, so frustrated, as he was in Memphis alone and I was still hours away due to my own complications.
 
 
I'll never forget the first day I was released and went to see him.  He looked so vulnerable and I had no reassurance that he would begin to breathe on his own.  The doctors simply said "We are doing all we can."  "All we can" is a very scary place to be.  I needed hope.  I needed reassurance that my baby was going to be alright.  As I arrived home that afternoon there was a room full of family and friends there to greet us, and yet for me one important person was missing...and it hit me hard.  I was so desperate and heart broken that I bypassed every good intentioned person and went straight to my bedroom and cried out to God.  I clung to my bible and begged the Lord to show me, to assure me that he was going to save my son and that he would be whole.  Can I just tell you that he is FAITHFUL.  I randomly opened my bible to Isaiah chapter 12 verse 2 and this is what the Lord spoke into my fearful, broken heart..."Behold, God is my salvation,  I will trust and not be afraid for the LORD JEHOVAH is my strength and my song."  He has also become my salvation."  In that moment..I knew.  The Lord gave me that peace that surpasses all understanding.  A peace that the world can't give.  "We are doing all we can" turned into... ‘"With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible."  We went to many appointments through the next few years..would the hole in his heart close?..with God all things are possible.  Would he have brain damage or his eye sight be compromised from the oxygen?...with God all things are possible.  Would he grow up to be a healthy, strong, kind, saved by the grace of God young man?  I think you can see for yourself that he did.  I am so very grateful that the Lord proved himself to be Jehovah Rapha- "The Lord that healeth thee."
 
 
He's grown into a wonderful young man and I am so privileged that the Lord chose me and blessed me with the honor of being his mother.  He's falling in love with a beautiful young woman that has a heart for Jesus...and for my boy. Her name is Carrie.    He made his momma happy this weekend when he made it a point to help put up the Christmas tree and spend some special "memory making" time together as a family.
 
 
 If I could go back and tell my 25 year old self that he would be where he is today..completely whole, healed and living a blessed life...I would.  But the Lord was taking me on a faith journey and when you are trusting your greatest "gift" to him..you just have to take a deep breath and remind yourself that he loves him even more than you do.  He loved him enough to hang on a cross so that he could save him for all eternity.