4/5/09 Laughter
Winslow is here! For Hoptown readers, enough said. Those folks know our friendship has spanned the years from childhood to senior citizen. From antics as teenagers to college roomies and beyond we’ve been together---even if 379.05 miles apart. She was maid of honor in my wedding and I’m sure I assumed she could join us on our honeymoon---Larry didn’t make the same assumption. Yea, we were real close friends----and still are.
Therein lies the problem. We did everything together and most of our shared adventures were fun and funny. Funny brings laughter and though the old adage says, “Laughter is good for the soul,” it’s not good for sewn up lips. Coughing and yawning, I’ve learned to stifle. Sneezing and laughing, on the other hand, are still major concerns. One uncontrollable sneeze blew the nose “packing” across the room---I was just grateful it didn’t take my new nose floor (made from part of my upper lip) along with it.
Being married to a “born comic” and family dubbed, “king of one-liners,” I’ve been struggling with this urge to laugh at Larry ever since I came out from “under the influence” of the surgery drugs. He has really tried hard to “behave” but humor is just a part of who he is and it easily flows from Larryisms to 3 Stooges impersonations. It really got bad when he and nurse Beth (my sister or his first wife depending on joke/need of the moment) would banter in Baylor Hospital room 529. When she tried to feed me with the syringe aimed at the wrong “hole” I lost it----resulting in gown change and linen change and traffic jam trying to get me to the bathroom with all those poles tagging along. You get the picture. But……….that episode did teach me how to squeeze my jaw to minimize destruction.
So, what does scripture say about laughter?
A joyful heart is good medicine. (Proverbs 17:21) I’m pretty sure a joyful heart has some laughter in it. Of course, Ecclesiastes also reminds us that there is “a time to laugh.”
I had some real struggles in the wee hours last night---anxious thoughts (Psalm 94:19) are always harder for me to take captive (2Corinthians 10:5) in the dark. In this instance, I had probably overdone it a little yesterday, so my tired mind whirred fearfully even as I prayed and sought consolation from the Lord. Sleep escaped me for over two hours and refreshed is not a word that came to mind on awakening.
But God………..in His mercy had sent “nurse” Winslow—who does everything but bodily fluids. I had Winslow at my bedside, along with all the memories and laughter that came with her, and my spirits were lifted. God knew that today would be a good day for some laughter in my life---I’m sure that trying to reduce burgoo and benedictine to go through a straw will have us both in stitches. I just need to keep the laughter reigned in so I don’t lose my new botox lips or fish (carp) lips as Larry calls them. I will just have to trust the Lord to help me in this and practice the “squeeze” technique that Beth taught me.
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Wedding Prayers
4/4/09 Congratulations Halle and Kyle!
This is it-----today’s the day---the day I had prayed to be a part of since my cancer was first diagnosed. A month ago it seemed virtually impossible that I would even be able to travel home much less attend a wedding. Tonight I will be at Grace Evan celebrating the wedding of Halle Ford Higginbotham and Kyle Ryan Rodgers.
I have prayed for this bride for many years and even for her “soon to be” husband for the last 15 years---I just didn’t know it was going to be Kyle. I prayed for a godly spouse for Halle and this morning I prayed that both their wedding and their marriage would glorify the Lord.
You see, Halle’s mother is a dear, dear friend and we were in a prayer group together years ago. At that time, I committed to praying for her every Saturday. God has honored that commitment and kept me faithful. (Today He even kept the reception flowers from spilling over in the car.)
That’s one of the privileges of prayer, praying for others. I have “one-anothered” Pam in prayer. A spiritual by-product of that has been praying for her children---children can certainly keep us on our knees, can’t they---and now her grandchildren. So…….I’m already praying for a godly spouse for both Anna and Kate, should they marry.
I know that prayer is in no way all about my petitions or even that God will always answer in my timing or my way. He answers according to His good and perfect will in my life. As Oswald Chambers says, “the good of praying is that it gets us to know God and enables God to perform His order through us.” That’s the privilege of prayer at it’s best---that I might be used of God.
But God…….in His grace, has answered this prayer of my heart and my dancing shoes are by the back door. I might not “last” but one dance, but I’m gonna dance.
This is it-----today’s the day---the day I had prayed to be a part of since my cancer was first diagnosed. A month ago it seemed virtually impossible that I would even be able to travel home much less attend a wedding. Tonight I will be at Grace Evan celebrating the wedding of Halle Ford Higginbotham and Kyle Ryan Rodgers.
I have prayed for this bride for many years and even for her “soon to be” husband for the last 15 years---I just didn’t know it was going to be Kyle. I prayed for a godly spouse for Halle and this morning I prayed that both their wedding and their marriage would glorify the Lord.
You see, Halle’s mother is a dear, dear friend and we were in a prayer group together years ago. At that time, I committed to praying for her every Saturday. God has honored that commitment and kept me faithful. (Today He even kept the reception flowers from spilling over in the car.)
That’s one of the privileges of prayer, praying for others. I have “one-anothered” Pam in prayer. A spiritual by-product of that has been praying for her children---children can certainly keep us on our knees, can’t they---and now her grandchildren. So…….I’m already praying for a godly spouse for both Anna and Kate, should they marry.
I know that prayer is in no way all about my petitions or even that God will always answer in my timing or my way. He answers according to His good and perfect will in my life. As Oswald Chambers says, “the good of praying is that it gets us to know God and enables God to perform His order through us.” That’s the privilege of prayer at it’s best---that I might be used of God.
But God…….in His grace, has answered this prayer of my heart and my dancing shoes are by the back door. I might not “last” but one dance, but I’m gonna dance.
Friday, April 3, 2009
DOXOLOGY
4/3/09 Doxologies
Going home for me usually entails a Sunday morning visit to First United Methodist Church on South Main in Hopkinsville, KY. It’s a beautiful old stone church and in some ways much of it has remained the same, at least in the sanctuary where stained glass windows line both sides. The large stained glass window above the choir loft is flanked by the tall shiny brass organ pipes. The floors still creak. The dark wooden pews are still hard and in my mind I can see people sitting in “their” pews. I catch my self looking across the aisle for Christine and Pappy, though they passed away years ago. I even remember looking at the back of Mr. Frank Yost’s head, always so neatly combed, with his two daughters, Ridley and Francie sitting to his right. I don’t know where they are now but I do know that his milling company still makes Sunflower flour which I can now buy at my Kroger. Just buying it gives me a connection to home and the memory of my mother’s biscuits---because she wouldn’t even consider buying anything else.
I am drawn to different modes of worship both personally and in a church setting. But growing up in a traditional protestant setting provided a background based on a more formal liturgy. This traditional ritual of worship has remained the same and that familiarity feels right because I know the routine. It even feels comforting. If it’s communion Sunday, you go down to the altar to kneel and partake of the elements---approaching from the center aisle and returning to our pew using the side aisle. There are also kneeling benches in each pew, though I never remember using them.
You can still count on always saying the Apostle’s Creed---printed in the back of the hymnal, if you need it. Back then, everyone I knew recited it. In the old Cokesbury hymnal I remember using, you found the Doxology on page 1. Again, no one used the hymnal---everyone just knew it. I wonder if my grandchildren know that “liturgical formula of praise to God?” I’m sure singing praises in unison must be sweet music to the Lord’s ears.
I loved the Ah-h-h-h men part which they would drag out.
Doxology-Greek for praise---
Doxa, glory and honor, with logos, speech.
Why am I thinking about The Doxology? (You probably wonder that about a lot of things I write.)
I have learned in the last few months that those verses, hymns and even creeds become more than words of “rote” memory. Those words are foundational and they (especially those of praise) come back in times of trial and suffering. Praise should inhabit our hearts---whether our prayers are answered or not, whether we are in the midst of seemingly “cruel” circumstances or we are truly in a joyful state. You see, I have learned that joy and suffering are not separate entities---they can both inhabit a grateful heart at the same time. Praise God for whatever has brought you to the present moment, good, bad or just commonplace/ordinary. When we offer praise to God during these dark, hard times, it’s “to whisper a doxology in the darkness.” (Brennan Manning)
Going home for me usually entails a Sunday morning visit to First United Methodist Church on South Main in Hopkinsville, KY. It’s a beautiful old stone church and in some ways much of it has remained the same, at least in the sanctuary where stained glass windows line both sides. The large stained glass window above the choir loft is flanked by the tall shiny brass organ pipes. The floors still creak. The dark wooden pews are still hard and in my mind I can see people sitting in “their” pews. I catch my self looking across the aisle for Christine and Pappy, though they passed away years ago. I even remember looking at the back of Mr. Frank Yost’s head, always so neatly combed, with his two daughters, Ridley and Francie sitting to his right. I don’t know where they are now but I do know that his milling company still makes Sunflower flour which I can now buy at my Kroger. Just buying it gives me a connection to home and the memory of my mother’s biscuits---because she wouldn’t even consider buying anything else.
I am drawn to different modes of worship both personally and in a church setting. But growing up in a traditional protestant setting provided a background based on a more formal liturgy. This traditional ritual of worship has remained the same and that familiarity feels right because I know the routine. It even feels comforting. If it’s communion Sunday, you go down to the altar to kneel and partake of the elements---approaching from the center aisle and returning to our pew using the side aisle. There are also kneeling benches in each pew, though I never remember using them.
You can still count on always saying the Apostle’s Creed---printed in the back of the hymnal, if you need it. Back then, everyone I knew recited it. In the old Cokesbury hymnal I remember using, you found the Doxology on page 1. Again, no one used the hymnal---everyone just knew it. I wonder if my grandchildren know that “liturgical formula of praise to God?” I’m sure singing praises in unison must be sweet music to the Lord’s ears.
Praise God from whom all blessing flow.
Praise Him all creature here below.
Praise Him above ye heavenly hosts.
Praise Father, Son and Holy Ghost. A-men
Praise Him all creature here below.
Praise Him above ye heavenly hosts.
Praise Father, Son and Holy Ghost. A-men
I loved the Ah-h-h-h men part which they would drag out.
Doxology-Greek for praise---
Doxa, glory and honor, with logos, speech.
Why am I thinking about The Doxology? (You probably wonder that about a lot of things I write.)
I have learned in the last few months that those verses, hymns and even creeds become more than words of “rote” memory. Those words are foundational and they (especially those of praise) come back in times of trial and suffering. Praise should inhabit our hearts---whether our prayers are answered or not, whether we are in the midst of seemingly “cruel” circumstances or we are truly in a joyful state. You see, I have learned that joy and suffering are not separate entities---they can both inhabit a grateful heart at the same time. Praise God for whatever has brought you to the present moment, good, bad or just commonplace/ordinary. When we offer praise to God during these dark, hard times, it’s “to whisper a doxology in the darkness.” (Brennan Manning)
Thursday, April 2, 2009
"In the Garden"
4/2/09 Garden of the Heart
Remember the old hymn, “In the Garden?” It was my grandmother’s favorite and a standard at funerals. It’s what first came to mind this morning as I was reading Jesus Calling. I loved the analogy of comparing our hearts to a garden.
I come to the garden alone—solitude is great for reflection
While the dew is still on the roses---first thing in the morning is a good time to open your heart to hear from the Lord
And the voice I hear---His voice, though not audible, can be “heard” when we attune our hearts to His
Falling on my ear---silence aids listening
The Son of God disposes----not sure of the best verb definition here—maybe a combo says it best—He inclines me to be willing to see things from His perspective---putting His view in place in my heart thus settling matters (of the heart)
When I think of a garden, words like tranquil, serene and quiet seem to be descriptive of such a place. How about your/my heart? Could those adjectives be used for our hearts? How does one find that quietude necessary to hear the “still small voice.” We certainly have to be free of the gripping distractions of the world. A lot of us need practice in this area. As Corrie Ten Boom prays, “Father tune our ears to your still small voice…”
3/16 entry in God Calling (gift I received today) summed up what God must think. “I wait in many a heart, but so few retire into that inner place of the being to commune with me.”
Psalm 46:10 says, “Be still and know that I am God.” In the Hebrew “be still” is the idea of hearing someone without them even speaking. Have you ever heard someone’s heart? I have. It was during a time of crisis. Neither of us said a word but as we hugged, my heart heard her heart.
Remember the words listen and silent have the same letters. We need to be silent so that we can hear from Him. Too often in our quiet times you and I just jump right in with our petitions. The essence of being still is more of an opening of our heart to commune with Him. As this happens, we will desire more of Him and with that desire we will receive more of Him. Then we will have ears to hear. Like Samuel we can say, “Speak Lord, for your servant is listening.” (1Samuel 3:10) We, too, will become more attentive in His presence and then be more willing to “plant” His truths in the garden of our hearts.
Remember the old hymn, “In the Garden?” It was my grandmother’s favorite and a standard at funerals. It’s what first came to mind this morning as I was reading Jesus Calling. I loved the analogy of comparing our hearts to a garden.
I come to the garden alone—solitude is great for reflection
While the dew is still on the roses---first thing in the morning is a good time to open your heart to hear from the Lord
And the voice I hear---His voice, though not audible, can be “heard” when we attune our hearts to His
Falling on my ear---silence aids listening
The Son of God disposes----not sure of the best verb definition here—maybe a combo says it best—He inclines me to be willing to see things from His perspective---putting His view in place in my heart thus settling matters (of the heart)
When I think of a garden, words like tranquil, serene and quiet seem to be descriptive of such a place. How about your/my heart? Could those adjectives be used for our hearts? How does one find that quietude necessary to hear the “still small voice.” We certainly have to be free of the gripping distractions of the world. A lot of us need practice in this area. As Corrie Ten Boom prays, “Father tune our ears to your still small voice…”
3/16 entry in God Calling (gift I received today) summed up what God must think. “I wait in many a heart, but so few retire into that inner place of the being to commune with me.”
Psalm 46:10 says, “Be still and know that I am God.” In the Hebrew “be still” is the idea of hearing someone without them even speaking. Have you ever heard someone’s heart? I have. It was during a time of crisis. Neither of us said a word but as we hugged, my heart heard her heart.
Remember the words listen and silent have the same letters. We need to be silent so that we can hear from Him. Too often in our quiet times you and I just jump right in with our petitions. The essence of being still is more of an opening of our heart to commune with Him. As this happens, we will desire more of Him and with that desire we will receive more of Him. Then we will have ears to hear. Like Samuel we can say, “Speak Lord, for your servant is listening.” (1Samuel 3:10) We, too, will become more attentive in His presence and then be more willing to “plant” His truths in the garden of our hearts.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
avoiDANCE
4/1/09
I am a wuss—a real weakling when it comes to pain. I prefer no pain of any kind whether physical, mental or emotional. No pain no gain is my least favorite phase, especially in exercise. Sometimes my mental pain is self-inflicted from the stress that I wear when striving for perfection---usually at the last minute or in a crisis.
Emotional pain---that’s the biggie for me. I don’t like to have my feelings hurt. I don’t want to hurt someone else’s feelings either.
For many years, I tried to control this aspect of pain in my life by avoiding deep relationships. Give me lots of fun. Yes! Intimate moments. No!
avoiDANCE was my silent mantra. That tune I listened to in my head became the song I danced to in my life. You see, in the dance of avoiDANCE, you are in control or so you think. I became enveloped in this sin of self-protection. I didn’t even know that self-protection was a sin until my eyes were opened to the fact that putting self above God and others is indeed sin. God has created us for relationship—with Him and with others. Being self-protective, I built walls in relationships. I didn’t allow others to get too close for fear of rejection and more hurt. During those years, I choreographed my own dance---the avoiDANCE in each new relationship. That way, I felt safe and in control. My partner was just an extension of myself—so I was less likely to get “stepped on.”
In my relationship with the Lord there was a distance as well. I wanted all the rights of being His child with none of the responsibilities. I knew that God could use struggles to teach us truth but I preferred my daily quiet times and ministry opportunities that could be checked off a list---more of a routine and ritual rather than an intimate relationship with Him. I wanted Him on my terms. I wanted Him for blessings---those warm, fuzzy Hallmark happy ending kind. I didn’t know that God’s blessing embraced both pleasure and pain.
I no longer view pain in quite the same way---though I still struggle with the fear of it. As I sought to know Him better, He tore down my “self created” pedestal of loving others half way and esteeming people and their opinions of me more than His truth. Along with my fantasies of a perfect life, He threw out the remaining crumbles of those life supports that I had held too long. He replaced them with more of Himself and I began the season of abunDANCE with Him. I come that you (Dotsy) might have life and have it with abunDANCE. (John 10:10--a paraphrase) That avoiDANCE of Him or others is lonely and empty---a dance you do virtually alone. I prefer Dancing with Jesus.
Today’s Jesus Calling entry was the perfect reminder of all this. I can talk with Him about every “aspect of (my) day including feelings.” He created me as an emotional, relational being---one with feelings. It’s okay to “feel.” Don’t shut down emotions out of fear. “Do not let your to-do list (written or mental) become an idol directing your life.” Don’t let the fantasy of a perfect life creep back into your mindset. That unfound list for thank you notes is not the end of the world, Dotsy.
“Ask my Spirit to guide you moment by moment.” Sounds like an invitation to come back to the dance, doesn’t it?
Come back, Dotsy, He says again and again. Dance with Me. No avoiDANCE of time with Me is allowed. Remember----Our dance is one of abunDANCE.
I am a wuss—a real weakling when it comes to pain. I prefer no pain of any kind whether physical, mental or emotional. No pain no gain is my least favorite phase, especially in exercise. Sometimes my mental pain is self-inflicted from the stress that I wear when striving for perfection---usually at the last minute or in a crisis.
Emotional pain---that’s the biggie for me. I don’t like to have my feelings hurt. I don’t want to hurt someone else’s feelings either.
For many years, I tried to control this aspect of pain in my life by avoiding deep relationships. Give me lots of fun. Yes! Intimate moments. No!
avoiDANCE was my silent mantra. That tune I listened to in my head became the song I danced to in my life. You see, in the dance of avoiDANCE, you are in control or so you think. I became enveloped in this sin of self-protection. I didn’t even know that self-protection was a sin until my eyes were opened to the fact that putting self above God and others is indeed sin. God has created us for relationship—with Him and with others. Being self-protective, I built walls in relationships. I didn’t allow others to get too close for fear of rejection and more hurt. During those years, I choreographed my own dance---the avoiDANCE in each new relationship. That way, I felt safe and in control. My partner was just an extension of myself—so I was less likely to get “stepped on.”
In my relationship with the Lord there was a distance as well. I wanted all the rights of being His child with none of the responsibilities. I knew that God could use struggles to teach us truth but I preferred my daily quiet times and ministry opportunities that could be checked off a list---more of a routine and ritual rather than an intimate relationship with Him. I wanted Him on my terms. I wanted Him for blessings---those warm, fuzzy Hallmark happy ending kind. I didn’t know that God’s blessing embraced both pleasure and pain.
I no longer view pain in quite the same way---though I still struggle with the fear of it. As I sought to know Him better, He tore down my “self created” pedestal of loving others half way and esteeming people and their opinions of me more than His truth. Along with my fantasies of a perfect life, He threw out the remaining crumbles of those life supports that I had held too long. He replaced them with more of Himself and I began the season of abunDANCE with Him. I come that you (Dotsy) might have life and have it with abunDANCE. (John 10:10--a paraphrase) That avoiDANCE of Him or others is lonely and empty---a dance you do virtually alone. I prefer Dancing with Jesus.
Today’s Jesus Calling entry was the perfect reminder of all this. I can talk with Him about every “aspect of (my) day including feelings.” He created me as an emotional, relational being---one with feelings. It’s okay to “feel.” Don’t shut down emotions out of fear. “Do not let your to-do list (written or mental) become an idol directing your life.” Don’t let the fantasy of a perfect life creep back into your mindset. That unfound list for thank you notes is not the end of the world, Dotsy.
“Ask my Spirit to guide you moment by moment.” Sounds like an invitation to come back to the dance, doesn’t it?
Come back, Dotsy, He says again and again. Dance with Me. No avoiDANCE of time with Me is allowed. Remember----Our dance is one of abunDANCE.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Daffodils
3/31/09 "Daffodils"
Remember the Wordsworth poem when the poet “wandered lonely as a cloud” and came upon a “crowd…of golden daffodils?” They were fluttering and dancing (natch!) in the breeze---it seemed like 10,000 as those daffodils “tossed their heads in sprightly dance.”
Even the dancing waves couldn’t out do the daffodils.
My mother loved daffodils. Even as a youngster I knew when spring was coming because of the crocus, grape hyacinths and daffodils that began to bloom around our steps and walkways and how that thrilled Mother’s heart. I tried to add to that joy once by “raiding” Dr. Dade’s yard of his award winning King Alfred’s and proudly presenting these prize daffodils to her. The chagrin on her face was a big clue that my procurement, though well intended, was VERY inappropriate. “Young lady, you will take these back to Dr. Dade right this minute and tell him you’re sorry! Never take something that doesn’t belong to you. Do you understand me?” Not sure of her exact words, I just know that she didn’t monkey around with soothing my ego or worry about damaging my psyche----I just knew I’d better not ever do that again.
As I said, Mother loved daffodils. Actually, she, as her mother, (Mama Davenport) loved all flowers. It seemed we always had fresh flowers at 2211 South Virginia. I never remember her running out to the nursery to buy bulbs or plants----certainly no Lowe’s garden centers back then. I just remember that she exchanged Sweet William, pinks and other “slips” (plant cuttings) with her friends, especially those in the Tuesday Club. So, I grew up with hollyhocks as tall as I was, a cutting garden that produced baby’s breath, and a mom tolerant of a daughter with a brown thumb. My only interest was in wildflowers--may apple, trilliums and jack-in- the-pulpit, so she helped me nurture those under the big “messy” mulberry tree.
Last Sunday when we were in Kentucky, Larry drove Daddy and me out to Riverside Cemetery to “visit” Mother. The afternoon was gray and chilly almost dreary---not like the sunny mornings I spent watching Mother tend her flowers those many years ago. Even though there were limbs and scattered blossoms and even overturned pots that had been strewn about from the recent storm and hail, my focus was elsewhere. I saw two clumps of daffodils BLOOMING at Mother’s grave---the grave of a mother who put a houseful of love and family, friends, fun and fresh flowers “in her dash." (Remember the importance of that dash on one's gravestone----the only part of life a person controls!)
“Her children rise up, and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her.” (Proverbs 31:28)
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils. (Wordsworth, 1804)
Remember the Wordsworth poem when the poet “wandered lonely as a cloud” and came upon a “crowd…of golden daffodils?” They were fluttering and dancing (natch!) in the breeze---it seemed like 10,000 as those daffodils “tossed their heads in sprightly dance.”
Even the dancing waves couldn’t out do the daffodils.
My mother loved daffodils. Even as a youngster I knew when spring was coming because of the crocus, grape hyacinths and daffodils that began to bloom around our steps and walkways and how that thrilled Mother’s heart. I tried to add to that joy once by “raiding” Dr. Dade’s yard of his award winning King Alfred’s and proudly presenting these prize daffodils to her. The chagrin on her face was a big clue that my procurement, though well intended, was VERY inappropriate. “Young lady, you will take these back to Dr. Dade right this minute and tell him you’re sorry! Never take something that doesn’t belong to you. Do you understand me?” Not sure of her exact words, I just know that she didn’t monkey around with soothing my ego or worry about damaging my psyche----I just knew I’d better not ever do that again.
As I said, Mother loved daffodils. Actually, she, as her mother, (Mama Davenport) loved all flowers. It seemed we always had fresh flowers at 2211 South Virginia. I never remember her running out to the nursery to buy bulbs or plants----certainly no Lowe’s garden centers back then. I just remember that she exchanged Sweet William, pinks and other “slips” (plant cuttings) with her friends, especially those in the Tuesday Club. So, I grew up with hollyhocks as tall as I was, a cutting garden that produced baby’s breath, and a mom tolerant of a daughter with a brown thumb. My only interest was in wildflowers--may apple, trilliums and jack-in- the-pulpit, so she helped me nurture those under the big “messy” mulberry tree.
Last Sunday when we were in Kentucky, Larry drove Daddy and me out to Riverside Cemetery to “visit” Mother. The afternoon was gray and chilly almost dreary---not like the sunny mornings I spent watching Mother tend her flowers those many years ago. Even though there were limbs and scattered blossoms and even overturned pots that had been strewn about from the recent storm and hail, my focus was elsewhere. I saw two clumps of daffodils BLOOMING at Mother’s grave---the grave of a mother who put a houseful of love and family, friends, fun and fresh flowers “in her dash." (Remember the importance of that dash on one's gravestone----the only part of life a person controls!)
“Her children rise up, and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her.” (Proverbs 31:28)
Mildred Davenport Adams
12/10/22 - 8/13/01
These were not 10,000 golden daffodils as Wordsworth had seen, or any as spectacular as Dr. Dade’s, but these white daffodils were from MY yard----Mother thought green and white were cool and serene and were the only colors she ever had in the planters along the walkways at the front of our house. I had dug those bulbs last fall from around my front walk and carefully carried them to Kentucky to plant on either end of her headstone---just hoping they would make it. They did. Fresh flowers just like she likes----12/10/22 - 8/13/01
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils. (Wordsworth, 1804)
Monday, March 30, 2009
Memorial Service
3/30/09 Bob’s Memorial Service
May his family know God’s peace and love and may his “coin” ministry continue to bear fruit. To God be the glory!
“…Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord…” (Rev. 14:13)
In memory of
Robert Eugene Hardick
(husband of Diane Sivells Hardick)
1939-2009
Robert Eugene Hardick
(husband of Diane Sivells Hardick)
1939-2009
May his family know God’s peace and love and may his “coin” ministry continue to bear fruit. To God be the glory!
“…Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord…” (Rev. 14:13)
Mom in Kentucky
3/29/09
Mom will not "post" for a few days. She is in Kentucky celebrating Grandaddy Brud's clear margins and mourning with her dear friend, Diane, the loss of her hubby. (Eccles. 3:1,4)
Mom will not "post" for a few days. She is in Kentucky celebrating Grandaddy Brud's clear margins and mourning with her dear friend, Diane, the loss of her hubby. (Eccles. 3:1,4)
Saturday, March 28, 2009
ALA
3/28/09 Remembering.......................
My precious, beautiful niece would have been 32 today. She is the real dancer in the family and now lives forever with “The Lord of the Dance.”
Allyson Leigh Adams
3/28/1977-10/7/1995
3/28/1977-10/7/1995
My precious, beautiful niece would have been 32 today. She is the real dancer in the family and now lives forever with “The Lord of the Dance.”
Friday, March 27, 2009
DAY OF REST
3/27/09 Homecoming--it might be brief but already has been blessed. 
Arrived greeted by “Welcome Home” balloons on mailbox, yellow ribbons around trees and pink roses w/ “Dotsy” ribbon sitting on the kitchen table, lots of hugs, cards, soup, calls and visits----love feels so good.
Stayed in pjs all day as this became a day of rest---I spent all day easing into my day and decided not to feel guilty about it as I am now about to ease into bed for a long night’s rest…..knowing true rest comes from Him.
- Rest in the Lord and wait patiently for Him. (Psalm 37:7)
- Return to your rest, O my soul, for the Lord has dealt bountifully with you. (Psalm 116:7)
- One hand full of rest is better than two fists full of labor and striving after wind. (Ecclesiastes 4:6)
- …..and ask for the ancient paths, where the good way is, and walk in it: and you will find rest for your souls (Jeremiah 6:16)
- “Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, 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." (Matt. 11:27-30)
- In peace I will both lie down and sleep, For You alone, O LORD, make me to dwell in safety. (Psalm 4:8)
Goodnight.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
