February . . . a red letter month every year since the year we married. 2012 has been no exception. Truly it is a month that focuses on the cycle of life. We celebrate engagements, marriages, birthdays, other special occasions, passing from this life to the next, memorial services and this year we said goodbye to two more special people and the last living family member of my father-in-law. Then came the news of Baby Girl Bates, born within the last two weeks. God is good.
Yesterday was especially meaningful! It was Grandparents' Day at Elisa's playschool, a day we had anticipated for several weeks. She looked like a little angel, sang every song and knew the answers to ten of the first questions in the Children's Catechism. I was so pleased to hear those wonderful affirmations of who God is, what God made and what God does for us.
The second meaningful thing is having Marty and her two boys here for a visit. It has been years since we have celebrated her birthday in person--it was yesterday. So that all the cousins could be here for the celebration, we waited until late this afternoon to open presents and have ice cream and cake. Birthday dinner comes tomorrow--some redfish dish Tommy is creating. It warms a mother's heart to spend time with children and grandchildren, to watch them laugh and play together.
February 2012, especially the 24th, will be long remembered!!
Our weather can't decide whether it will hot or cold. After Marty and the boys arrived Tuesday, she had to go buy some short sets for playclothes. It had been snowing when they left Raleigh and shirtsleeve weather down here. Fortunately, it has cooled off some, but not for long. The only constant is the pollen--yellow dust everywhere and the allergy prone are miserable.
If you follow me on Facebook, you have read about my fall last weekend when I lost my balance, landed primarily on my left knee and flipped into the hot tub. That was one of our cold nights. I have been very stiff, sore and bruised, but am thankful to have been "rescued" quickly and to have not broken anything. I can hear Tom saying for me to be more careful, but what I know is it doesn't seem to be a matter of being careful or not. A beat up body; cancel that; a beat up, aging body "ain't what it used to be." Just call me the "Old Gray Mare."
We have begun the season of Lent, a time in the Christian church when we focus on God's grace and Christ's sacrifice. Some observe by "giving up something for Lent," others choose to make it be a time of prayer and penitence. I simply encourage you all to recognize the unconditional love bestowed on believers; to recognize how unworthy we are; and be thankful for God's grace. Think and pray on these things.
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret
Saturday, February 25, 2012
Saturday, February 18, 2012
Petal
Petal is many things. I have no idea how its name came into being. It sounds strange and for people who are "not from around here," I usually spell it for them.
Petal is just northeast of Hattiesburg. Most people have heard of Hattiesburg, even those outside the area. Hattiesburg is home to the University of Southern Mississippi which has an outstanding music department, is a member of Conference USA. It is a Certified Retirement Community, whatever that means and may be best known as the home of Camp Shelby, a National Guard training facility and apparently a sometime stop when you're being deployed.
Hattiesburg has good medical facilities, lots of fast food/franchise eating establishments and is home to three restaurants owned and operated South Mississippi's version of Emeril Lagasse. Robert St. John has been a favorite of ours for a long time; I have several of his cookbooks, read his weekly newspaper coulumn religiously; and eat at one of his restaurants as often as possible. Hattiesburg is on the map; Petal is a well kept secret.
Petal, with its small town flavor, seven or eight stoplights, bosts a terrific seafood market and grill. It didn't take us long to discover The Wharf! Merchants are friendly and helpful. I even found a yarn shop, after having looked in Hattiesburg and finding none. The owner/instructor is a home grown person, as is her husband. They, like so many, have lived elsewhere in the military or other work, but have come back home. Petal has a boomerang effect on its own.
Petal is particularly proud of its school system--as well it should be. It is because of this system that we chose to move here. Liz wanted the children in the system and she wanted to teach here. Almost from the beginning, we noticed the obvious support of the community. Driving by the high school complex we saw immaculate sports fields, a separate performing arts center and a semi-trailer, painted with "Petal High School Band," to haul their equipment. Not bad for a sleepy little town in a state whose schools are repeatedly on the low end of the pole.
We are constantly amazed at the level of the music program in the schools. Jacob had started band in sixth grade in Tennessee, did well, but the overall program lacked excellence. He came here, joined the marching band and was asked to play baritone sax in the jazz band--as a ninth grader. After marching season tryouts were held for concert/symphonic bands: there are two concert bands and an symphonic band which is the highest level of ability. We attended a concert Thursday to hear those three, the jazz band and two "senior projects." I was a.m.a.z.e.d!! Tommy said, "They didn't sound like any high school band I've ever heard." My reply was that I am so happy for Jacob to have this opportunity, to which Tommy said, "Now that I've heard them in this setting, I am really glad." Jacob plays second chair alto sax in the Symphonic Band and, as mentioned, is in the Jazz Band. Sarah Beth began sixth grade band in the fall and plays flute. She is first chair out of 20 flutes. (Thank you for allowing this old grandma to brag.)
As one way to show appreciation and support for teachers and staff, many of Petal's businesses give a 10% discount when they show their identification badge. Liz's badge save me thirty dollars this week on a new tire. People care about their schools!
Petal is home. I would have never purposely chosen it; I would have never thought it was a possibility. God is good! I have no doubt that He brought us here. I love the church where I attend; I love the area in the county where we live. I love the educational opportunities being afforded each one of the children and the way they have adjusted. Honestly, a year ago this time, I was torn--not wanting to stay in Tennessee without family and not really wanting to come here. God said: "Go; trust me; I will provide and care for you." I can only repeat: "Great is His Faithfulness."
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret
Petal is many things. I have no idea how its name came into being. It sounds strange and for people who are "not from around here," I usually spell it for them.
Petal is just northeast of Hattiesburg. Most people have heard of Hattiesburg, even those outside the area. Hattiesburg is home to the University of Southern Mississippi which has an outstanding music department, is a member of Conference USA. It is a Certified Retirement Community, whatever that means and may be best known as the home of Camp Shelby, a National Guard training facility and apparently a sometime stop when you're being deployed.
Hattiesburg has good medical facilities, lots of fast food/franchise eating establishments and is home to three restaurants owned and operated South Mississippi's version of Emeril Lagasse. Robert St. John has been a favorite of ours for a long time; I have several of his cookbooks, read his weekly newspaper coulumn religiously; and eat at one of his restaurants as often as possible. Hattiesburg is on the map; Petal is a well kept secret.
Petal, with its small town flavor, seven or eight stoplights, bosts a terrific seafood market and grill. It didn't take us long to discover The Wharf! Merchants are friendly and helpful. I even found a yarn shop, after having looked in Hattiesburg and finding none. The owner/instructor is a home grown person, as is her husband. They, like so many, have lived elsewhere in the military or other work, but have come back home. Petal has a boomerang effect on its own.
Petal is particularly proud of its school system--as well it should be. It is because of this system that we chose to move here. Liz wanted the children in the system and she wanted to teach here. Almost from the beginning, we noticed the obvious support of the community. Driving by the high school complex we saw immaculate sports fields, a separate performing arts center and a semi-trailer, painted with "Petal High School Band," to haul their equipment. Not bad for a sleepy little town in a state whose schools are repeatedly on the low end of the pole.
We are constantly amazed at the level of the music program in the schools. Jacob had started band in sixth grade in Tennessee, did well, but the overall program lacked excellence. He came here, joined the marching band and was asked to play baritone sax in the jazz band--as a ninth grader. After marching season tryouts were held for concert/symphonic bands: there are two concert bands and an symphonic band which is the highest level of ability. We attended a concert Thursday to hear those three, the jazz band and two "senior projects." I was a.m.a.z.e.d!! Tommy said, "They didn't sound like any high school band I've ever heard." My reply was that I am so happy for Jacob to have this opportunity, to which Tommy said, "Now that I've heard them in this setting, I am really glad." Jacob plays second chair alto sax in the Symphonic Band and, as mentioned, is in the Jazz Band. Sarah Beth began sixth grade band in the fall and plays flute. She is first chair out of 20 flutes. (Thank you for allowing this old grandma to brag.)
As one way to show appreciation and support for teachers and staff, many of Petal's businesses give a 10% discount when they show their identification badge. Liz's badge save me thirty dollars this week on a new tire. People care about their schools!
Petal is home. I would have never purposely chosen it; I would have never thought it was a possibility. God is good! I have no doubt that He brought us here. I love the church where I attend; I love the area in the county where we live. I love the educational opportunities being afforded each one of the children and the way they have adjusted. Honestly, a year ago this time, I was torn--not wanting to stay in Tennessee without family and not really wanting to come here. God said: "Go; trust me; I will provide and care for you." I can only repeat: "Great is His Faithfulness."
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Another round of Phew . . .
This time the word originates with me--and I'm not done with it yet.
Phew - Elisa is sick again; a trip to the pediatrician last Thursday; a round of steroids; more breathing treatments; now antibiotics. The cough is better, but it's obvious she doesn't feel as well as she could. She's been home with me all week. She gets tired and fussy late in the day, takes a quick nap after breakfast, but there are still hints of perky, happy Elisa. Phew, we all hope she's back to normal soon.
Phew - I spent Friday at Presbytery and the first part of the annual leadership training event. A new minister was examined and accepted into the Presbytery. It was so refreshing to hear his thorough, sound answers in the examination, to hear him preach and to have him lead worship. I knew from listening to his sermon and his treatment of the Lord's Supper that he and I had studied under the same New Testament professor in seminary. While there are many things that are discouraging in our denomination, I am encouraged to hear ministers of his caliber. Tom's name was read as part of the necrology report, even though he didn't reside within these bounds, nor belong to a church here at the time of his death. He was essentially a man without a presbytery, so the Clerk listed him as having been Moderator of Presbytery in 1996. Then later in the day, a minister friend asked where "your better half is."
The leadership training event began within minutes after Presbytery adjourned. Our keynote speaker was, again, encouraging. The Rev. Dr. Steven Hayner, current President of Columia Seminary, and former professor of evangelism there gave an excellent talk, preached at worship on Saturday and then led a class on mission in the church. He gave so much food for thought that I felt as if I had been through a buffet line, filled my plate and returned time and again.
Following dinner on Friday night, the Chamber Choir from Mississippi College, where Marty graduated, presented a most glorious concert. Then on Saturday, I drove back to Laurel (about 25 miles from here) and attended the rest. Phew, I was tired when I got home.
Phew - Marty and the boys are coming next week, to be here a couple of weeks. I'm trying to get ready. This will be her first visit to our new place and I want it to be "just right." Who am I kiddning? My house is never in that kind of shape!
My mind continues to buzz with sermons and information received over the weekend. For instance, Dr. Hayner used as text on Saturday the 15th chapter of Luke. It is the chapter on lost things--a lost sheep, the lost coin and the lost son. He talked about knowing God through this passage and suggested we look at the verbs instead of adjectives to describe God. Think about it. I have done that briefly. For instance, God seeks the lost and never gives up. He rejoices when the lost are found. What a difference it would make in my life and what a difference it would make in the lives of individual churches if we approached discipleship the way God approaches finding the lost! What a difference it would make if our hearts were completely in tune with God's in our attitude of reaction! Do I truly rejoice as God does? Phew - it's a lot to think about.
"For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son . . ." God bless us as we pattern our loving and giving after God's.
Blessings,
Pastor Mararet
This time the word originates with me--and I'm not done with it yet.
Phew - Elisa is sick again; a trip to the pediatrician last Thursday; a round of steroids; more breathing treatments; now antibiotics. The cough is better, but it's obvious she doesn't feel as well as she could. She's been home with me all week. She gets tired and fussy late in the day, takes a quick nap after breakfast, but there are still hints of perky, happy Elisa. Phew, we all hope she's back to normal soon.
Phew - I spent Friday at Presbytery and the first part of the annual leadership training event. A new minister was examined and accepted into the Presbytery. It was so refreshing to hear his thorough, sound answers in the examination, to hear him preach and to have him lead worship. I knew from listening to his sermon and his treatment of the Lord's Supper that he and I had studied under the same New Testament professor in seminary. While there are many things that are discouraging in our denomination, I am encouraged to hear ministers of his caliber. Tom's name was read as part of the necrology report, even though he didn't reside within these bounds, nor belong to a church here at the time of his death. He was essentially a man without a presbytery, so the Clerk listed him as having been Moderator of Presbytery in 1996. Then later in the day, a minister friend asked where "your better half is."
The leadership training event began within minutes after Presbytery adjourned. Our keynote speaker was, again, encouraging. The Rev. Dr. Steven Hayner, current President of Columia Seminary, and former professor of evangelism there gave an excellent talk, preached at worship on Saturday and then led a class on mission in the church. He gave so much food for thought that I felt as if I had been through a buffet line, filled my plate and returned time and again.
Following dinner on Friday night, the Chamber Choir from Mississippi College, where Marty graduated, presented a most glorious concert. Then on Saturday, I drove back to Laurel (about 25 miles from here) and attended the rest. Phew, I was tired when I got home.
Phew - Marty and the boys are coming next week, to be here a couple of weeks. I'm trying to get ready. This will be her first visit to our new place and I want it to be "just right." Who am I kiddning? My house is never in that kind of shape!
My mind continues to buzz with sermons and information received over the weekend. For instance, Dr. Hayner used as text on Saturday the 15th chapter of Luke. It is the chapter on lost things--a lost sheep, the lost coin and the lost son. He talked about knowing God through this passage and suggested we look at the verbs instead of adjectives to describe God. Think about it. I have done that briefly. For instance, God seeks the lost and never gives up. He rejoices when the lost are found. What a difference it would make in my life and what a difference it would make in the lives of individual churches if we approached discipleship the way God approaches finding the lost! What a difference it would make if our hearts were completely in tune with God's in our attitude of reaction! Do I truly rejoice as God does? Phew - it's a lot to think about.
"For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son . . ." God bless us as we pattern our loving and giving after God's.
Blessings,
Pastor Mararet
Tuesday, February 07, 2012
Life and death . . . qualify as heavy topics. My heart and my brain can attest to that fact. Often, I ask myself why.
- Is it because too many friends have threatening illnesses or that even some of them have died?
- Does it have something to do with age and stage of life?
- Is it because we know too well that cancer and other disease respect neither age, nor place in life?
- Have I reluctantly approaced the anniversary of Tom's death?
- And, what about life? When is it really over?
- What is the measure of one's life?
- Does it matter how long or short?
- Too many questions; one sure answer.
I love the opening statement in the PC(USA) Brief Statement of Faith: In life and in death, we belong to God. One sure answer. Hymn writers said it in words like: On Christ the Solid Rock I Stand; Great is Thy Faithfulness; There is a place of quiet rest, Near to the Heart of God, and so many others. Many of the writers wrote out of their own experiences and if we were more knowledgeable we might wonder at how they bared their souls so effectively. Instead, we often sing, without paying much attention to the words. Just today I read on a Caring Bridge site a quote of O, Love That Will Not Let Me Go. What assurance there is in that hymn! We may question, we may waver, but it is God's love that holds on to US.
Sunday, as Tommy and Liz were driving into town to a couple of church activities, Tommy got word that a good friend from grad school had died that afternoon. She was diagnosed with cancer about this time last year, treated, went into remission and then her husband called Thursday to say she was back in the hospital. She hadn't felt well for a couple of days and when she went in, they told the husband that it was just a matter of days. She was in her late thirties.
On my way to the oncologist in Jackson yesterday morning, I received the call from Marty that I had dreaded. Her longtime friend, Susan, died early that morning. She was first diagnosed with inflamatory breast cancer in 2007 when the younger of her two little boys was a few months old. Through all of her illness and treatment, she refused to let cancer define her. Instead she inspired many through her blogs, her tireless efforts to raise awareness of cancer, her continued work on NASA projects and most of all as wife, mother and friend. She was 38.
Are you thinking what I'm thinking? What a waste! I cannot help but think that. Then, I return to: In life and in death we belong to God.
Not a day goes by that I don't mourn Tom's passing. His death left a huge hole in my heart that can never be filled, though I've tried with pep talks to myself and endless activities. They just don't work. A special California friend who lost his wife suddenly last month reminded me when I talked with him recently that God did not make us to live alone. Just hearing those words spoken did wonders for me. Hearing him say that made me realize, really, really know, that, in that case, God will heal the loneliness---if I'd but let Him. Today is the anniversary of Tom's death and it hasn't been a day worse than any other. In his honor, I made one of his favorite desserts for us to enjoy tonight. We will celebrate him.
Like so many cancer survivors, I look around and feel guilty that I'm still responding to treatment and living. I remind myself that Tom and I made that commitment together. We chose to live, not to sit around and let the illness take over our lives. If, in life, I truly belong to God, then live, I must, savoring every moment, responding to where the Holy Spirit leads.
It was appropriate yesterday to see so many signs of Spring on my trip to and from Jackson. They helped focus on life and not death. Trees are beginning to bud and show the hints of color, not quite like the pink haze on the almond trees in California that we loved so much, but deep rose colors. Tulip trees are blooming; patches of daffodils dot the roadsides. And, typical in Mississippi are the signs proclaiming roadside markets have boiled crawfish and Lousiana strawberries for sale. Seasons are changing--though we never experienced winter. To top it off, I saw a front yard full of fat robins as I turned into the driveway. As the teacher wrote in Ecclesiastes, there is a time for everything.--and it belongs to God
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret
Saturday, January 28, 2012
Join me for a chat . . .
Sometimes my brain feels as if it might explode. Thoughts, activities, projects invade my mind and I have trouble making sense of everything. There continue to be necessary business items to consider (i.e. like finally getting the car tag, etc.) and those are the things that were on "Tom's side of the ledger." Last year the IRS wouldn't allow my tax return to be filed electronically because they said Tom's number had already been used. Friend and CPA Jerri tried everything she knew to get to the bottom of that mystery; we hit a brick wall. Now, here it is time to accumulate all the stuff for 2011 taxes and I'm still waiting on resolution from 2010. Finally, not knowing what else to do and having put up with too many computerized messages, I called the tax payers' advocacy group. They promised help; we'll see. I've gotten exasperated with the lack of activity surrounding the offering of my house for sale, tried to e-mail the realtor and the e-mail was returned. What's up with that? I know I should perservere, but instead I curl up with a good book or play a word game on my Kindle--avoidance, big time.
Also, clammoring for brain time are thoughts about life and death. Too many friends seem to have gone too soon. Some have gone unexpectedly, like Jan Stone; some suffer what humanly seems more than what a person should bear, like a dear professor friend and his wife; some really loving, productive folks have their days of motherhood and productivity cut short. It is difficult not to ask: "Why?" Today I drove to Jackson to attend the service of a ninety-something friend who was the last of my in-laws' group. The service was simple and to the point. The minister spoke of Lucy's life and how she was a woman with a great sense of peace because she had found peace in Jesus. Her request of him was that he share that peace with those at her service. Hers was a life well lived, a life that was example for all who knew her.
During my college days a number of us affiliated with Central Presbyterian Church in Jackson, MS. It is the place where Tom and I met and married, as had his parents before us. Lucy and her husband, the Suttles and several other couples adopted the college students and provided not only a church home, but opened their own homes to us on a regular basis. One of the men in that group mentored Tom in his law practice and invited Tom to be a part of his firm. How those couples impacted the lives of the students! Many of those students were there today as we paid tribute to Lucy--and remembered the "good ole' days."
Following the service, I drove to the cemetary where Tom and my mother are buried. There had been some unfinished business with the marker for his grave and I felt indignance rising. It's not like I could take my business elsewhere. A kind lady in the office gave me a map and directions and I spent between 20 and 30 minutes in a cool, brisk wind trying to locate Tom's grave. Mission accomplished. The marker was there with both our names, side by side--in life and in death. For some strange reason, I feel more a sense of closure. As I left, I was not sad. He is not there; he is rejoicing with the angels and, as always, he is in my heart.
While I was gone, the little girls had a picnic outside and Tommy helped fourth grader, Drew, with his science project--making a dill pickle glow. It seems I missed a lot by being gone a few hours. At Marty's house, this has been a week of birthday celebrations: Colin was 2 on Tuesday and Christopher turned 4 on Thursday. Colin's party was last weekend and Christopher's was to have been today, but the stomach bug arrived as an uninvited guest and his party has been rescheduled for tomorrow. I really miss a lot by being far away from them.
Tomorrow is worship, a day I love. It's great to be able to praise God with friends and to think of friends in other places who are doing the same.
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret
Sometimes my brain feels as if it might explode. Thoughts, activities, projects invade my mind and I have trouble making sense of everything. There continue to be necessary business items to consider (i.e. like finally getting the car tag, etc.) and those are the things that were on "Tom's side of the ledger." Last year the IRS wouldn't allow my tax return to be filed electronically because they said Tom's number had already been used. Friend and CPA Jerri tried everything she knew to get to the bottom of that mystery; we hit a brick wall. Now, here it is time to accumulate all the stuff for 2011 taxes and I'm still waiting on resolution from 2010. Finally, not knowing what else to do and having put up with too many computerized messages, I called the tax payers' advocacy group. They promised help; we'll see. I've gotten exasperated with the lack of activity surrounding the offering of my house for sale, tried to e-mail the realtor and the e-mail was returned. What's up with that? I know I should perservere, but instead I curl up with a good book or play a word game on my Kindle--avoidance, big time.
Also, clammoring for brain time are thoughts about life and death. Too many friends seem to have gone too soon. Some have gone unexpectedly, like Jan Stone; some suffer what humanly seems more than what a person should bear, like a dear professor friend and his wife; some really loving, productive folks have their days of motherhood and productivity cut short. It is difficult not to ask: "Why?" Today I drove to Jackson to attend the service of a ninety-something friend who was the last of my in-laws' group. The service was simple and to the point. The minister spoke of Lucy's life and how she was a woman with a great sense of peace because she had found peace in Jesus. Her request of him was that he share that peace with those at her service. Hers was a life well lived, a life that was example for all who knew her.
During my college days a number of us affiliated with Central Presbyterian Church in Jackson, MS. It is the place where Tom and I met and married, as had his parents before us. Lucy and her husband, the Suttles and several other couples adopted the college students and provided not only a church home, but opened their own homes to us on a regular basis. One of the men in that group mentored Tom in his law practice and invited Tom to be a part of his firm. How those couples impacted the lives of the students! Many of those students were there today as we paid tribute to Lucy--and remembered the "good ole' days."
Following the service, I drove to the cemetary where Tom and my mother are buried. There had been some unfinished business with the marker for his grave and I felt indignance rising. It's not like I could take my business elsewhere. A kind lady in the office gave me a map and directions and I spent between 20 and 30 minutes in a cool, brisk wind trying to locate Tom's grave. Mission accomplished. The marker was there with both our names, side by side--in life and in death. For some strange reason, I feel more a sense of closure. As I left, I was not sad. He is not there; he is rejoicing with the angels and, as always, he is in my heart.
While I was gone, the little girls had a picnic outside and Tommy helped fourth grader, Drew, with his science project--making a dill pickle glow. It seems I missed a lot by being gone a few hours. At Marty's house, this has been a week of birthday celebrations: Colin was 2 on Tuesday and Christopher turned 4 on Thursday. Colin's party was last weekend and Christopher's was to have been today, but the stomach bug arrived as an uninvited guest and his party has been rescheduled for tomorrow. I really miss a lot by being far away from them.
Tomorrow is worship, a day I love. It's great to be able to praise God with friends and to think of friends in other places who are doing the same.
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret
Friday, January 20, 2012
Phew . . .
Elisa's new word. Yesterday as we were leaving for storytime at the library and other errands, she used it twice, in just the right places. It made me think.
Phew . . . I'm so glad I have Elisa in my life! She fills me with joy and I am constantly amazed by the depth of her feeling. Marty called during the day and I knew immediately that something was up with her. Call it mothers and daughters being on some weird wave length or something; whatever; I knew. Marty's oldest and closest friend , Susan, whom many of you have prayed for, is at the end of her life. Marty needed to talk to her mom. When I hung up the phone, Elisa wanted to know why I talked so long to Aunt Marty.
Maw Maw: Aunt Marty is sad and needed to talk to her mom.
Elisa: Why is Aunt Marty sad?
Maw Maw: Aunt Marty's friend is really sick and cannot get well.
Elisa: What is her name?
Maw Maw: Susan.
Elisa: I can be Aunt Marty's friend.
I wanted to squeeze her to pieces. What a tender heart! And to think, I get to spend time with her.
Phew . . . I FINALLY have a Mississippi tag for my car and a title forthcoming. I have been trying for months to get everything official. Today I made my third trip to the courthouse to get the title put in my name and to get a proper tag. Afterwards, I headed to the Highway Patrol to get a Drivers' Liscense, had to make and unexpected trip to the Social Security Office, and FINALLY got my liscense changed and registered to vote, to boot. Why did it have to be so hard? It was almost as if the state didn't want my money---and we all know that isn't true.
Phew . . . the Older Adult Task Force is off and running. That's a good thing. How neat to have interested, optimistic folks involved! I am excited; no, I'm pumped to be working with such a great group of people.
Phew . . . God is faithful! Last week I spilled my innermost thoughts and it made me feel better. It made me face up to the facts; God has brought me face to face with things I know in my head, but have not been able to accept in my heart. I am grateful! What would any of us do without God's word, God's promises and God's provisions?
Phew . . . I am one blessed person--and I'm counting the blessings, one by one!
Pastor Margaret
Elisa's new word. Yesterday as we were leaving for storytime at the library and other errands, she used it twice, in just the right places. It made me think.
Phew . . . I'm so glad I have Elisa in my life! She fills me with joy and I am constantly amazed by the depth of her feeling. Marty called during the day and I knew immediately that something was up with her. Call it mothers and daughters being on some weird wave length or something; whatever; I knew. Marty's oldest and closest friend , Susan, whom many of you have prayed for, is at the end of her life. Marty needed to talk to her mom. When I hung up the phone, Elisa wanted to know why I talked so long to Aunt Marty.
Maw Maw: Aunt Marty is sad and needed to talk to her mom.
Elisa: Why is Aunt Marty sad?
Maw Maw: Aunt Marty's friend is really sick and cannot get well.
Elisa: What is her name?
Maw Maw: Susan.
Elisa: I can be Aunt Marty's friend.
I wanted to squeeze her to pieces. What a tender heart! And to think, I get to spend time with her.
Phew . . . I FINALLY have a Mississippi tag for my car and a title forthcoming. I have been trying for months to get everything official. Today I made my third trip to the courthouse to get the title put in my name and to get a proper tag. Afterwards, I headed to the Highway Patrol to get a Drivers' Liscense, had to make and unexpected trip to the Social Security Office, and FINALLY got my liscense changed and registered to vote, to boot. Why did it have to be so hard? It was almost as if the state didn't want my money---and we all know that isn't true.
Phew . . . the Older Adult Task Force is off and running. That's a good thing. How neat to have interested, optimistic folks involved! I am excited; no, I'm pumped to be working with such a great group of people.
Phew . . . God is faithful! Last week I spilled my innermost thoughts and it made me feel better. It made me face up to the facts; God has brought me face to face with things I know in my head, but have not been able to accept in my heart. I am grateful! What would any of us do without God's word, God's promises and God's provisions?
Phew . . . I am one blessed person--and I'm counting the blessings, one by one!
Pastor Margaret
Saturday, January 14, 2012
Truth . . .
It has been difficult to write. For all the "stiff upper lip," the smile on my face and the Steel Magnolia appearance, I have been miserable. Through this past year, so many have affirmed me and offered words of encouragement, saying "how well I am doing." The truth is: I haven't done that well. I have been, as one psychologist wrote in her book, A Deepening Love Affair, "papering my walls with activities." That has been easy and comes naturally. First, there were arrangements to be made for Tom's service, the trip to Mississippi for the burial and memorial, Tommy's call to a new church, all the notifications and the stuff to be done when someone dies, getting a house ready to sell, buying another, moving, unpacking, family activity, "granny day care," a new doctor and regular trips to Jackson to see him . . . the list seems endless. Some days I am alone with a family of seven just across the pool. As I have sorted through boxes, I find pictures of times past and they tug at my heart. Some bring smiles; others bring tears. Several weeks ago I asked God to take away the pain of Tom's loss; He has, but the profound sadness, the emptiness remain. It has been suggested that I have not allowed myself to grieve, something I don't deny; I'm not sure I know how. And, during the last several weeks, I have learned of the deaths of both old friends and newer ones--precious folks from our home church and in the first older adult group I staffed; a special college friend and then just this past week Jan Stone. I was both stunned and saddened by her passing. What a great lady! What a great friend!
Life is indeed fragile! Last night I learned that our church secretary who was diagnosed with stage 3 lung cancer last spring, has been pronounced cancer free. Praise God! On the outside, looking in, most would have thought that Tom would outlive me by years. Until Christmas of 2010, he had not been in the hospital since 1944. Yes, he had allergies that plagued him at times, he had a back that would "go out," but until the Parkinson's diagnosis in 2003, he had been one healthy person. He was a man of integrity, a man who put God above all, someone who tried to be obedient. I keep thinking, "why was my Tommy taken from me?" In the past few days I have become aware of the error of my thinking. He wasn't "mine" at all. He always belonged to God and he was God's gift to me. Even now, I cannot full comprehend what that truly means. There was Tom, with an incurable, debilitating disease, our secretary with deadly lung cancer, Jan, so much like the Energizer Bunny, who was here one day, gone the next, and here I am, having been diagnosed with ovarian cancer over nine years ago. Try as I might, I cannot make sense of it.
Job couldn't make sense of his circumstances, but he never denied or cursed God. He remained faithful in spite of his afflictions and his so-called friends who preached to him. What I need to do is to quit with the questions and get on with answers God has already provided. He is the one who lights my path, who can heal my broken heart and who knows what my future holds. I know this in my heart; I pray to trust Him more.
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret
It has been difficult to write. For all the "stiff upper lip," the smile on my face and the Steel Magnolia appearance, I have been miserable. Through this past year, so many have affirmed me and offered words of encouragement, saying "how well I am doing." The truth is: I haven't done that well. I have been, as one psychologist wrote in her book, A Deepening Love Affair, "papering my walls with activities." That has been easy and comes naturally. First, there were arrangements to be made for Tom's service, the trip to Mississippi for the burial and memorial, Tommy's call to a new church, all the notifications and the stuff to be done when someone dies, getting a house ready to sell, buying another, moving, unpacking, family activity, "granny day care," a new doctor and regular trips to Jackson to see him . . . the list seems endless. Some days I am alone with a family of seven just across the pool. As I have sorted through boxes, I find pictures of times past and they tug at my heart. Some bring smiles; others bring tears. Several weeks ago I asked God to take away the pain of Tom's loss; He has, but the profound sadness, the emptiness remain. It has been suggested that I have not allowed myself to grieve, something I don't deny; I'm not sure I know how. And, during the last several weeks, I have learned of the deaths of both old friends and newer ones--precious folks from our home church and in the first older adult group I staffed; a special college friend and then just this past week Jan Stone. I was both stunned and saddened by her passing. What a great lady! What a great friend!
Life is indeed fragile! Last night I learned that our church secretary who was diagnosed with stage 3 lung cancer last spring, has been pronounced cancer free. Praise God! On the outside, looking in, most would have thought that Tom would outlive me by years. Until Christmas of 2010, he had not been in the hospital since 1944. Yes, he had allergies that plagued him at times, he had a back that would "go out," but until the Parkinson's diagnosis in 2003, he had been one healthy person. He was a man of integrity, a man who put God above all, someone who tried to be obedient. I keep thinking, "why was my Tommy taken from me?" In the past few days I have become aware of the error of my thinking. He wasn't "mine" at all. He always belonged to God and he was God's gift to me. Even now, I cannot full comprehend what that truly means. There was Tom, with an incurable, debilitating disease, our secretary with deadly lung cancer, Jan, so much like the Energizer Bunny, who was here one day, gone the next, and here I am, having been diagnosed with ovarian cancer over nine years ago. Try as I might, I cannot make sense of it.
Job couldn't make sense of his circumstances, but he never denied or cursed God. He remained faithful in spite of his afflictions and his so-called friends who preached to him. What I need to do is to quit with the questions and get on with answers God has already provided. He is the one who lights my path, who can heal my broken heart and who knows what my future holds. I know this in my heart; I pray to trust Him more.
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret
Saturday, December 31, 2011
The last one of 2011 . . .
For a minute there, I couldn't sign in. That's frustrating--not that I have that much to say, but still, it is Dec. 31 and I needed one "last hurrah."
2011 has been quite a year! It has been a year of profound loss, but also a year of profound blessing. We lost my beloved Tom and we all feel it: children, grandchildren, friends and most especially me. In spite of the loss I have had the time to reflect on the memories and to count my blessings. I was loved by an incredible man and for that I am incredibly grateful. I have returned to my adopted homeland of Mississippi. It has been bittersweet to be back in the state where Tom and I met, married and lived most of our life together. So many places remind me of him and they usually make me smile. I moved away from some good friends in Tennessee, but closer to my dear friends in Jackson, MS and I am making new friends where we are now. My health remains stable and my oncologist is optimistic that this nasty cancer can be held at bay. In comparison, other issues are inconsequential. The lingering question remains: why has God allowed me all these unexpected days? I know we are not to ask such things.
I know that tomorrow much be the Sunday after Christmas because I'm preaching. The "extra pastors" as some designated us at FOPC always get the Sundays after Christmas and Easter. But, hey, I'm not complaining. I'm more than happy to have the opportunity. I remember saying one year at Fair Oaks that I had preached every Sunday after Christmas since I began preaching my second year in seminary. One dear, prejudiced friend, sitting right down front started clapping. I'll never forget that Sunday--or the friend, for that matter.
We've had a quiet New Year's Eve--just like I like. Our friend John and his son came out to watch football and eat supper. We grilled steaks and ate dessert left over from earlier in the holidays. Afterwards, we went outside and legally shot fireworks, though I admit that I have never liked fireworks. In California they were everywhere!! I was always afraid that a spark would ignite the cedar shakes on our roof and we'd burn to the ground. They have been illegal within the city limits everywhere else we've lived, but now we're in the country. Tommy did the the actual lighting and the rest of us watched--except of the little ones, who ran in circles between displays. I still think I prefer watching the display on the 4th of July celebration on the Washington Mall. The colors are pretty and the noise isn't as great.
I leave you with a thought from Ezra for the New Year. In chapter seven it says that Ezra commited himself to studying the Revelation of God, to practicing its teaching and to teaching it to others. That, coupled with Ezra's belief that worship was central to being identified as people of God, combines to make a worthy resolution/commitment for the new year. It's a challenge for me and one I offer as a suggestion for you as well. I've never been a resolution maker, but Ezra inspired me. Will you join me? "I commit in 2012 to make worship central in my life; to study God's word; to practice what it teaches; and to teach it to others."
God bless you and Happy New Year!
Pastor Margaret
For a minute there, I couldn't sign in. That's frustrating--not that I have that much to say, but still, it is Dec. 31 and I needed one "last hurrah."
2011 has been quite a year! It has been a year of profound loss, but also a year of profound blessing. We lost my beloved Tom and we all feel it: children, grandchildren, friends and most especially me. In spite of the loss I have had the time to reflect on the memories and to count my blessings. I was loved by an incredible man and for that I am incredibly grateful. I have returned to my adopted homeland of Mississippi. It has been bittersweet to be back in the state where Tom and I met, married and lived most of our life together. So many places remind me of him and they usually make me smile. I moved away from some good friends in Tennessee, but closer to my dear friends in Jackson, MS and I am making new friends where we are now. My health remains stable and my oncologist is optimistic that this nasty cancer can be held at bay. In comparison, other issues are inconsequential. The lingering question remains: why has God allowed me all these unexpected days? I know we are not to ask such things.
I know that tomorrow much be the Sunday after Christmas because I'm preaching. The "extra pastors" as some designated us at FOPC always get the Sundays after Christmas and Easter. But, hey, I'm not complaining. I'm more than happy to have the opportunity. I remember saying one year at Fair Oaks that I had preached every Sunday after Christmas since I began preaching my second year in seminary. One dear, prejudiced friend, sitting right down front started clapping. I'll never forget that Sunday--or the friend, for that matter.
We've had a quiet New Year's Eve--just like I like. Our friend John and his son came out to watch football and eat supper. We grilled steaks and ate dessert left over from earlier in the holidays. Afterwards, we went outside and legally shot fireworks, though I admit that I have never liked fireworks. In California they were everywhere!! I was always afraid that a spark would ignite the cedar shakes on our roof and we'd burn to the ground. They have been illegal within the city limits everywhere else we've lived, but now we're in the country. Tommy did the the actual lighting and the rest of us watched--except of the little ones, who ran in circles between displays. I still think I prefer watching the display on the 4th of July celebration on the Washington Mall. The colors are pretty and the noise isn't as great.
I leave you with a thought from Ezra for the New Year. In chapter seven it says that Ezra commited himself to studying the Revelation of God, to practicing its teaching and to teaching it to others. That, coupled with Ezra's belief that worship was central to being identified as people of God, combines to make a worthy resolution/commitment for the new year. It's a challenge for me and one I offer as a suggestion for you as well. I've never been a resolution maker, but Ezra inspired me. Will you join me? "I commit in 2012 to make worship central in my life; to study God's word; to practice what it teaches; and to teach it to others."
God bless you and Happy New Year!
Pastor Margaret
Friday, December 16, 2011
Catching up . . .
What a wonderful visit I had with Marty and her family over the Thanksgiving holidays!!! I arrived the evening of my birthday greeted by two precious little boys yelling "Nana," and running to give me hugs. Now that's a greeting not soon to be forgotten! We went straight home to find Mallory and Kevin's dad and to eat birthday dinner, complete with the best chocolate cake, selected by Christopher. We had thirteen for Thanksgiving dinner including neighbors and a Chinese family. I was proud of Marty's cooking and organizing skills. Other days were filled with playing, shopping, decorating, knitting, talking. All too soon it was time to come home.
I have loved going into my children's houses and seeing "our things" being used and loved as we loved them. Tommy has his dad's treasured stereo speakers, the grandfather clock the three Toms assembled and finished, an oak wardrobe Tom and I bought at an Illinois farm auction the summer he returned from Vietnam and a few other things. Marty has my mom's dining room table, my wedding china and a marble top table I also had gotten from my mother. Both have things from Tom's parents. Those "things" are like golden threads that weave the generations together and provide sparkling memories of times spent in their midst.
We have all had the respiratory crud, some worse than others. Elisa had a particularly hard time with it, but is all well now. The coughing made me more tired than usual, especially because it kept me awake at night. I saw the oncologist Tuesday of this week and had THE LONGEST DAY. The best part, however, was being declared "stable" once again. My red counts continue to be on the low side, so I've decided to give in to the tiredness and rest when I need to rest. Now, how long did it take me to learn that?
Last night Tommy, Sarah and I attended our choirs's offering of Rutter's Magnificat and it was magnificent. The soloist's voice was perfect for his work! Afterwards, the three of us went out to eat at a Hattiesburg favorite restaurant--a delicious way to end the evening.
Today I'm busy trying to shorten my list of things to do and in a bit will go to Drew's school for an author's tea. I have no idea what that is, but he invited me and I try not to turn down invitations from grandchildren. Sometime over the weekend I'm to take Drew and Jacob shopping for their parents. Ssh! It's a big secret.
It's difficult this time of year, with all the busyness, to focus on the reason we're celebrating. We are blessed to live where we are free to worship, sing and shout Merry Christmas. As I reflect on Christmases past, I have warmth in my heart and a smile on my face. God's grace has been abundant as is revealed in His greatest gift of all.
God bless you,
Pastor Margaret
What a wonderful visit I had with Marty and her family over the Thanksgiving holidays!!! I arrived the evening of my birthday greeted by two precious little boys yelling "Nana," and running to give me hugs. Now that's a greeting not soon to be forgotten! We went straight home to find Mallory and Kevin's dad and to eat birthday dinner, complete with the best chocolate cake, selected by Christopher. We had thirteen for Thanksgiving dinner including neighbors and a Chinese family. I was proud of Marty's cooking and organizing skills. Other days were filled with playing, shopping, decorating, knitting, talking. All too soon it was time to come home.
I have loved going into my children's houses and seeing "our things" being used and loved as we loved them. Tommy has his dad's treasured stereo speakers, the grandfather clock the three Toms assembled and finished, an oak wardrobe Tom and I bought at an Illinois farm auction the summer he returned from Vietnam and a few other things. Marty has my mom's dining room table, my wedding china and a marble top table I also had gotten from my mother. Both have things from Tom's parents. Those "things" are like golden threads that weave the generations together and provide sparkling memories of times spent in their midst.
We have all had the respiratory crud, some worse than others. Elisa had a particularly hard time with it, but is all well now. The coughing made me more tired than usual, especially because it kept me awake at night. I saw the oncologist Tuesday of this week and had THE LONGEST DAY. The best part, however, was being declared "stable" once again. My red counts continue to be on the low side, so I've decided to give in to the tiredness and rest when I need to rest. Now, how long did it take me to learn that?
Last night Tommy, Sarah and I attended our choirs's offering of Rutter's Magnificat and it was magnificent. The soloist's voice was perfect for his work! Afterwards, the three of us went out to eat at a Hattiesburg favorite restaurant--a delicious way to end the evening.
Today I'm busy trying to shorten my list of things to do and in a bit will go to Drew's school for an author's tea. I have no idea what that is, but he invited me and I try not to turn down invitations from grandchildren. Sometime over the weekend I'm to take Drew and Jacob shopping for their parents. Ssh! It's a big secret.
It's difficult this time of year, with all the busyness, to focus on the reason we're celebrating. We are blessed to live where we are free to worship, sing and shout Merry Christmas. As I reflect on Christmases past, I have warmth in my heart and a smile on my face. God's grace has been abundant as is revealed in His greatest gift of all.
God bless you,
Pastor Margaret
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Happy Thanksgiving!
No, I don't have my weeks mixed up; I know very well that Thanksgiving is next week, not tomorrow. I'm just issuing my greeting a week early because after tonight my computer will be silent until the end of the month. I am spending the holidays with Marty and family. I haven't seen her since her dad died and I'm anxious for some mother/daughter time. So, eat well, love much and especially give thanks!
The November visit with my oncologist was Monday. Blood pressure down and stable, kidney problem apparently in check so he restarted the Avastin. Time will tell whether or not I'll tolerate it this time. Dr. Thigpen doesn't want to change the medication regimen since it has held the cancer at arm's length for a while now. I'll be saying special thanks for the outstanding doctors I've had since Tillie the Tumor came to call in August, 2002.
You may get tired of reading about the beautiful Mississippi fall we're having, but I never tire of seeing it. Again, on the way to and from Jackson, there were numerous trucks, loaded with sweet potatoes, some with sugar cane, boiled peanuts and satsumas. The trees get more colorful with each trip, but I know the leaves won't last much longer. A tornado touched down close to here last night.
I think back to the first Thanksgiving Tom and I were married--I was with his family; he was in the jungles of Vietnam. There have been many since then and it seems they have all be different. One year we took the children from Jackson to New Orleans on the train and spent the holidays there. What a wonderful time we had--after we recovered from losing Marty on Canal St. A couple of times we traveled with Mom and Dad to Southern Illinois to visit relatives there. More often than not we celebrated at home with as many as we could fit around the table. I remember Thanksgivings in California--serving grits to willing guests, sharing stories. I am so blessed with family and friends and memories shared. This year there will again be an empty place at the table; we all miss Tom.
We won't be the only ones with an empty place--many have lost loved ones this year. Holidays are hard. Today a widow told me she is the most lonely between 6 and 7 p.m. Families are preparing or eating dinner and she stands at the kitchen counter eating peanut butter and crackers. Let someone alone know that you care; invite them for dinner; go pick them up. Often we think the chaos of the day is bothersome, but that might be what is missed the most.
"Give thanks with a grateful heart."
Pastor Margaret
No, I don't have my weeks mixed up; I know very well that Thanksgiving is next week, not tomorrow. I'm just issuing my greeting a week early because after tonight my computer will be silent until the end of the month. I am spending the holidays with Marty and family. I haven't seen her since her dad died and I'm anxious for some mother/daughter time. So, eat well, love much and especially give thanks!
The November visit with my oncologist was Monday. Blood pressure down and stable, kidney problem apparently in check so he restarted the Avastin. Time will tell whether or not I'll tolerate it this time. Dr. Thigpen doesn't want to change the medication regimen since it has held the cancer at arm's length for a while now. I'll be saying special thanks for the outstanding doctors I've had since Tillie the Tumor came to call in August, 2002.
You may get tired of reading about the beautiful Mississippi fall we're having, but I never tire of seeing it. Again, on the way to and from Jackson, there were numerous trucks, loaded with sweet potatoes, some with sugar cane, boiled peanuts and satsumas. The trees get more colorful with each trip, but I know the leaves won't last much longer. A tornado touched down close to here last night.
I think back to the first Thanksgiving Tom and I were married--I was with his family; he was in the jungles of Vietnam. There have been many since then and it seems they have all be different. One year we took the children from Jackson to New Orleans on the train and spent the holidays there. What a wonderful time we had--after we recovered from losing Marty on Canal St. A couple of times we traveled with Mom and Dad to Southern Illinois to visit relatives there. More often than not we celebrated at home with as many as we could fit around the table. I remember Thanksgivings in California--serving grits to willing guests, sharing stories. I am so blessed with family and friends and memories shared. This year there will again be an empty place at the table; we all miss Tom.
We won't be the only ones with an empty place--many have lost loved ones this year. Holidays are hard. Today a widow told me she is the most lonely between 6 and 7 p.m. Families are preparing or eating dinner and she stands at the kitchen counter eating peanut butter and crackers. Let someone alone know that you care; invite them for dinner; go pick them up. Often we think the chaos of the day is bothersome, but that might be what is missed the most.
"Give thanks with a grateful heart."
Pastor Margaret
Wednesday, November 09, 2011
The Morning After . . .
It's the morning after statewide elections and there is a slow, Mississippi fall rain teasing the ground. After all the rain we had over the summer, I didn't think I'd be thinking how much we need rain now. It's a good day for staying inside--so many things need to be done vs. so many that I'd rather do. I'm glad the rain held off for the elections yesterday, though with the numbers out to vote, I'm not sure rain would have kept them home. I, of course, am not registered--guess I'm not official since I have no car tag, driver's license etc. It remains to be seen how the newly elected officials will govern!
Elisa was four years old last Wednesday. So soon? The song from "Fiddler on the Roof" runs through my mind: Sunrise, sunset, where did my little girl go? Those words also remind me of Marty and I wonder the same. What happened to all the years? Elisa had a wonderful day at preschool--she took "pupcakes" to share and got in the car with a paper crown that wouldn't stay up. She was very proud, but wanted to know if I could see her blue eyes. No, I couldn't literally see them, but I see them in my head. I have but to think of her to see those eyes and feel her hand in mine. I am reminded of brown eyes and another small hand, a little girl so trusting and loving who is all grown with children who look at her the same way. We cannot hold on to the children, but that's what hearts and memories are for--to remember and cherish the moments.
Saturday Liz, Sarah and I drove to Ocean Springs for the Peter Anderson Festival. Our first stop was in Biloxi to buy shrimp right off the boats. How could I have forgotten the smell, the peaceful mood that comes when first you come over a hill and see the Gulf spread in front of you? A large part of the shrimping industry has been taken over by Vietnamese who moved here following the war. They are hard working and eager to show you their catch. We found jumbo shrimp for $4 a pound and medium ones for $2.50 per pound. One jumbo shrimp was larger than my hand! We bought 20 pounds of jumbos, 15 pounds of medium, packed them in our cooler (along with the help of a lady from whom we hadn't even bought), crossed another bridge and went to Ocean Springs, one of my favorithe spots on the coast. It's a small, picturesque, artsy community known for the Anderson family, artists in several mediums. The festival was a big bizarre type affair, with lots of people set up all over down town. It took us a while to find a parking place and we walked a lot!
One of the most interesting finds was a store that sells only products made in the USA. It had opened just the week before the festival. Sarah was excited and wanted to go inside. A couple of weeks ago she and I were in the car and for some reason began talking about American made products etc. and I was giving her my patriotic stance on keeping jobs at home. As soon as we got home she went to her room and started checking her things to see how many--actually, how few--of them were made in America. Since then, she's all about "made in the USA." Back to Ocean Springs--the store owners where South African immigrants, proud Americans who have only been here eleven years. They were glad to show us the pictures on display of their two sons, both of whom are serving in the Marine Corps. It did my heart good to meet them and to see the amount of love and loyalty they have for their adopted land. We should all be so loyal!!
We could learn a lot from them and from the shrimp ladies who have come, found a home and a way to both contribute to the community's economy and earn a living.
Since summer my morning Bible readings have been from The Message as I forge ahead to read it in its entirety. This week I came to Chronicles, not the most interesting or inspiring verses to read, though I did finally get through the chapters of names to the summation of David's reign. In his introduction, Peterson, the translator, reminds us that names are important to God. He knows us by name! Neither we, nor the people named in Chronicles are merely "one among many." My name is written on God's heart; it's in the Book of Life. He does not look at me and say, "That's ole' what's her name." I have also been reminded of a statement made by my favorite OT professor in seminary: There's theology in every verse. It may not be as obvious as in the Gospels or Psalms, but even lists of names are important.
The best thing that happened last week is this. I was driving into town one morning, listening to a CD, when a song that reminds me particularly of Tom began to play. It made me cry. Right then, I began to pray about the loneliness and the pain of his not being here. It hit me like a brick. God knows pain better than anyone else; He knows what it is to "lose" a loved one. I thought of a conversation Tommy and I had after his return from a spiritual retreat when he told me how he describes God's removal of our sin. If God removes my sin, will He not also remove the pain in my heart? In Petal, right between the Green Street Baptist and Petal Pentecostal churches, I asked God to take away the pain, to heal the tender places in my heart. What a break through! I will always miss Tom, always have this empty place he has filled for so many years, but the pain is gone--"far as the east is from the west."
Now, on to the things I should do today: pay bills, laundry, etc.
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret
It's the morning after statewide elections and there is a slow, Mississippi fall rain teasing the ground. After all the rain we had over the summer, I didn't think I'd be thinking how much we need rain now. It's a good day for staying inside--so many things need to be done vs. so many that I'd rather do. I'm glad the rain held off for the elections yesterday, though with the numbers out to vote, I'm not sure rain would have kept them home. I, of course, am not registered--guess I'm not official since I have no car tag, driver's license etc. It remains to be seen how the newly elected officials will govern!
Elisa was four years old last Wednesday. So soon? The song from "Fiddler on the Roof" runs through my mind: Sunrise, sunset, where did my little girl go? Those words also remind me of Marty and I wonder the same. What happened to all the years? Elisa had a wonderful day at preschool--she took "pupcakes" to share and got in the car with a paper crown that wouldn't stay up. She was very proud, but wanted to know if I could see her blue eyes. No, I couldn't literally see them, but I see them in my head. I have but to think of her to see those eyes and feel her hand in mine. I am reminded of brown eyes and another small hand, a little girl so trusting and loving who is all grown with children who look at her the same way. We cannot hold on to the children, but that's what hearts and memories are for--to remember and cherish the moments.
Saturday Liz, Sarah and I drove to Ocean Springs for the Peter Anderson Festival. Our first stop was in Biloxi to buy shrimp right off the boats. How could I have forgotten the smell, the peaceful mood that comes when first you come over a hill and see the Gulf spread in front of you? A large part of the shrimping industry has been taken over by Vietnamese who moved here following the war. They are hard working and eager to show you their catch. We found jumbo shrimp for $4 a pound and medium ones for $2.50 per pound. One jumbo shrimp was larger than my hand! We bought 20 pounds of jumbos, 15 pounds of medium, packed them in our cooler (along with the help of a lady from whom we hadn't even bought), crossed another bridge and went to Ocean Springs, one of my favorithe spots on the coast. It's a small, picturesque, artsy community known for the Anderson family, artists in several mediums. The festival was a big bizarre type affair, with lots of people set up all over down town. It took us a while to find a parking place and we walked a lot!
One of the most interesting finds was a store that sells only products made in the USA. It had opened just the week before the festival. Sarah was excited and wanted to go inside. A couple of weeks ago she and I were in the car and for some reason began talking about American made products etc. and I was giving her my patriotic stance on keeping jobs at home. As soon as we got home she went to her room and started checking her things to see how many--actually, how few--of them were made in America. Since then, she's all about "made in the USA." Back to Ocean Springs--the store owners where South African immigrants, proud Americans who have only been here eleven years. They were glad to show us the pictures on display of their two sons, both of whom are serving in the Marine Corps. It did my heart good to meet them and to see the amount of love and loyalty they have for their adopted land. We should all be so loyal!!
We could learn a lot from them and from the shrimp ladies who have come, found a home and a way to both contribute to the community's economy and earn a living.
Since summer my morning Bible readings have been from The Message as I forge ahead to read it in its entirety. This week I came to Chronicles, not the most interesting or inspiring verses to read, though I did finally get through the chapters of names to the summation of David's reign. In his introduction, Peterson, the translator, reminds us that names are important to God. He knows us by name! Neither we, nor the people named in Chronicles are merely "one among many." My name is written on God's heart; it's in the Book of Life. He does not look at me and say, "That's ole' what's her name." I have also been reminded of a statement made by my favorite OT professor in seminary: There's theology in every verse. It may not be as obvious as in the Gospels or Psalms, but even lists of names are important.
The best thing that happened last week is this. I was driving into town one morning, listening to a CD, when a song that reminds me particularly of Tom began to play. It made me cry. Right then, I began to pray about the loneliness and the pain of his not being here. It hit me like a brick. God knows pain better than anyone else; He knows what it is to "lose" a loved one. I thought of a conversation Tommy and I had after his return from a spiritual retreat when he told me how he describes God's removal of our sin. If God removes my sin, will He not also remove the pain in my heart? In Petal, right between the Green Street Baptist and Petal Pentecostal churches, I asked God to take away the pain, to heal the tender places in my heart. What a break through! I will always miss Tom, always have this empty place he has filled for so many years, but the pain is gone--"far as the east is from the west."
Now, on to the things I should do today: pay bills, laundry, etc.
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret
Saturday, October 29, 2011
Who Knew . . .
*that buying a car tag could be so difficult? Mississippi has extremely high car tag prices, so you would think the state would be anxious to take my money. I have been to the tax collector's office twice and both times have come away empty handed. At first, I didn't have the registration and finally had to have a duplicate faxed to me. Now, I have no title because it's in Tom's name; it's not legally a part of our trust so I have to have my children agree to "let me have it." The law says you must register your car in your new place of residence within the first thirty days. Oops! I'm a little late!!!!
*that fall could be so beautiful in south Mississippi? I know I've said before how beautiful the colors are, but they keep getting more beautiful with every passing day. Today, as I was driving home from the grocery store, I was struck by how beautiful the picked over cotton field was. There stood brown stalks, with empty bolls and remnants of cotton missed by the picker framed by red, yellow and green trees in the distance. The psalmist said, "Enjoy God." How can I help but enjoy Him when His creation is so lovely?
*that I would have been in my new place five months and still not be settled? The clutter is getting to me! Last week I spent hours in the office filing papers, (looking for the car registraton), sorting, and throwing away stuff I'm sure no one wants. The memories uncovered keep me company.
*that I would have the opportunity and privilege to be involved in some of my grandchildren's lives on a daily basis? The Petal High School Marching Band is competing in its fourth competion of the month in Clinton this weekend. Liz took the children, met her parents and her two brothers and their families, but I elected not to make the trip. I have seen the complete show and am amazed at how good they are. I have volunteered to pick Jake up when he gets back to the school at 1:30 A.M. Elisa will be four on Wednesday--hard to believe she's the same little baby that Tom and I cuddled and kept as an infant. She made him smile then; I can only imagine how much he would smile at her now! Soon I'll be packing for my visit with the three North Carolina grandchildren. Can't wait to see how they have grown and changed.
Only God knows what our futures hold. Only God knows the plans He has for us. If I've learned anything in these 70+ years it's that life is best left to God. We cling to Him in times of trial and crisis, but how much more important it is to cling and trust for every day things. As long as we draw breath, we belong to God. In fact, "In life and in death, we belong to God." Every day is an adventure, a day to be lived in obedience, a day to give thanks for the faithfulness of God. "Who knew?" God knew; God knows.
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret
*that buying a car tag could be so difficult? Mississippi has extremely high car tag prices, so you would think the state would be anxious to take my money. I have been to the tax collector's office twice and both times have come away empty handed. At first, I didn't have the registration and finally had to have a duplicate faxed to me. Now, I have no title because it's in Tom's name; it's not legally a part of our trust so I have to have my children agree to "let me have it." The law says you must register your car in your new place of residence within the first thirty days. Oops! I'm a little late!!!!
*that fall could be so beautiful in south Mississippi? I know I've said before how beautiful the colors are, but they keep getting more beautiful with every passing day. Today, as I was driving home from the grocery store, I was struck by how beautiful the picked over cotton field was. There stood brown stalks, with empty bolls and remnants of cotton missed by the picker framed by red, yellow and green trees in the distance. The psalmist said, "Enjoy God." How can I help but enjoy Him when His creation is so lovely?
*that I would have been in my new place five months and still not be settled? The clutter is getting to me! Last week I spent hours in the office filing papers, (looking for the car registraton), sorting, and throwing away stuff I'm sure no one wants. The memories uncovered keep me company.
*that I would have the opportunity and privilege to be involved in some of my grandchildren's lives on a daily basis? The Petal High School Marching Band is competing in its fourth competion of the month in Clinton this weekend. Liz took the children, met her parents and her two brothers and their families, but I elected not to make the trip. I have seen the complete show and am amazed at how good they are. I have volunteered to pick Jake up when he gets back to the school at 1:30 A.M. Elisa will be four on Wednesday--hard to believe she's the same little baby that Tom and I cuddled and kept as an infant. She made him smile then; I can only imagine how much he would smile at her now! Soon I'll be packing for my visit with the three North Carolina grandchildren. Can't wait to see how they have grown and changed.
Only God knows what our futures hold. Only God knows the plans He has for us. If I've learned anything in these 70+ years it's that life is best left to God. We cling to Him in times of trial and crisis, but how much more important it is to cling and trust for every day things. As long as we draw breath, we belong to God. In fact, "In life and in death, we belong to God." Every day is an adventure, a day to be lived in obedience, a day to give thanks for the faithfulness of God. "Who knew?" God knew; God knows.
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Excuses, excuses . . .
Life is happening! It seems like every day has it's own special task to perform and all the while I'm reminding myself that I'm retired - and tired at times. Then there are those annoying, continuing computer problems. Is the internet at fault, is the computer being cantankerous or is the user too dumb to answer either question? Some days I don't even want to sign on!!
Last week I attended the annual POAMN (Presbyterian Older Adult Ministries Network) conference, held this year in conjunction with the Association of Retired Ministers, Spouses and Survivors. I had not been able to attend for the last three years and so enjoyed seeing special friends and colleagues in ministry. POAMN and I invested in one another over twenty years ago. Much of what I know about older adult ministry has been learned through print resources offered, conferences and the network experience--sharing with one another. It is a ministry of the PC(USA) that I have supported and loved--as did Tom. The keynote speaker last week was Cynthia Rigby, professor of theology from Austin Seminary. She, without a doubt in my mind, is the best keynoter we have ever had: inspiring, encouraging, delightful, knowledgeable, brilliant! I also took in a few workshops. I've come full circle. I was in my forties when I began in older adult ministry and often felt it necessary to apologize for my age and for "presuming" to talk about growing older. The between years have brought me face to face with practically everything about which I spoke, but I'm still not, nor will I ever be, an authority on any subject. We experienced many changes, some associated with loss; I became a full time caregiver; personal illness tried to turn my world upside down; and one of the most difficult things was having to insist on taking car keys from my husband. Through all the changes, the illnesses, the trials, my POAMN friends and colleagues have been present and praying. I will be forever greatful!!
Fall has come to Mississippi! Monday I drove to Jackson for the monthly oncology visit and was happy to see slight changes of color in the woods. We don't have the sugar maples or the aspens that provide the spectacular color that draws tourists, rather our color comes from sweet gums, Chinese tallows, some ghinkos, dogwoods, crepe myrtles and fields of ragweed, black eyed susans and cotton ready to be harvested. Those deep reds and yellows contrasted against the very present pines are a beautiful sight. Cotton is planted not far from us on the road to Meredith's school. I have loved watching it grow from small plants, to the blooming stage, to open bolls, then to defoliated plants, waiting to be picked. As it stands there waiting, it is white as far as you can see--the inspiration for the popular tee shirt that sports a picture and caption, reading "Ski Mississippi." Such simple pleasures!
Also visible on my trip to Jackson were several pick-up trucks parked on the side of the road, loaded with Mississippi sweet potatoes to sell. They are the best. Now, don't confuse a sweet potato with a yam. They are not the same thing. To quote an internet site: The yam tuber has a brown or black skion which resembles the bark of a tree and off-white, purple or red flesh, depending on the variety. They are at home growing in tropical climates, primarily in South Amnerica, Africa, and the Caribbean. I don't know that I have ever eaten a yam and I bet many of you haven't either. Serve sweet potatoes at Thanksgiving and Mississippi ones at that!!!
Tomorrow is Presbytery in Vicksburg and I am going before them to move my membership from Mid-South Presbytery. Guess then, I will officially be home.
Now, I absolutely must find my car registration. I am long overdue in buying a Mississippi tag. Life continues to happen. I need to be ready.
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret
Life is happening! It seems like every day has it's own special task to perform and all the while I'm reminding myself that I'm retired - and tired at times. Then there are those annoying, continuing computer problems. Is the internet at fault, is the computer being cantankerous or is the user too dumb to answer either question? Some days I don't even want to sign on!!
Last week I attended the annual POAMN (Presbyterian Older Adult Ministries Network) conference, held this year in conjunction with the Association of Retired Ministers, Spouses and Survivors. I had not been able to attend for the last three years and so enjoyed seeing special friends and colleagues in ministry. POAMN and I invested in one another over twenty years ago. Much of what I know about older adult ministry has been learned through print resources offered, conferences and the network experience--sharing with one another. It is a ministry of the PC(USA) that I have supported and loved--as did Tom. The keynote speaker last week was Cynthia Rigby, professor of theology from Austin Seminary. She, without a doubt in my mind, is the best keynoter we have ever had: inspiring, encouraging, delightful, knowledgeable, brilliant! I also took in a few workshops. I've come full circle. I was in my forties when I began in older adult ministry and often felt it necessary to apologize for my age and for "presuming" to talk about growing older. The between years have brought me face to face with practically everything about which I spoke, but I'm still not, nor will I ever be, an authority on any subject. We experienced many changes, some associated with loss; I became a full time caregiver; personal illness tried to turn my world upside down; and one of the most difficult things was having to insist on taking car keys from my husband. Through all the changes, the illnesses, the trials, my POAMN friends and colleagues have been present and praying. I will be forever greatful!!
Fall has come to Mississippi! Monday I drove to Jackson for the monthly oncology visit and was happy to see slight changes of color in the woods. We don't have the sugar maples or the aspens that provide the spectacular color that draws tourists, rather our color comes from sweet gums, Chinese tallows, some ghinkos, dogwoods, crepe myrtles and fields of ragweed, black eyed susans and cotton ready to be harvested. Those deep reds and yellows contrasted against the very present pines are a beautiful sight. Cotton is planted not far from us on the road to Meredith's school. I have loved watching it grow from small plants, to the blooming stage, to open bolls, then to defoliated plants, waiting to be picked. As it stands there waiting, it is white as far as you can see--the inspiration for the popular tee shirt that sports a picture and caption, reading "Ski Mississippi." Such simple pleasures!
Also visible on my trip to Jackson were several pick-up trucks parked on the side of the road, loaded with Mississippi sweet potatoes to sell. They are the best. Now, don't confuse a sweet potato with a yam. They are not the same thing. To quote an internet site: The yam tuber has a brown or black skion which resembles the bark of a tree and off-white, purple or red flesh, depending on the variety. They are at home growing in tropical climates, primarily in South Amnerica, Africa, and the Caribbean. I don't know that I have ever eaten a yam and I bet many of you haven't either. Serve sweet potatoes at Thanksgiving and Mississippi ones at that!!!
Tomorrow is Presbytery in Vicksburg and I am going before them to move my membership from Mid-South Presbytery. Guess then, I will officially be home.
Now, I absolutely must find my car registration. I am long overdue in buying a Mississippi tag. Life continues to happen. I need to be ready.
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
A few thoughts from the country . . .
The honeycomb pattern continues, though I did take out about eight rows. There are obvious (to me) mistakes on the back, but they are interesting, add to the pattern and with the advice of the expert at the shop, I decided to leave them. She asked if I could recreate them on the front. Again, knitting parallels life. I'm not really sure how I made the mistakes. I only know I didn't follow the pattern in those particular places. Don't we at times ask ourselves the questions: "what did I do wrong?" "Why didn't I listen?" In knitting, we can take out the mistakes, begin again. In life we ask for forgiveness, regroup and pray for wisdom to follow God's direction.
News from the compound:
The honeycomb pattern continues, though I did take out about eight rows. There are obvious (to me) mistakes on the back, but they are interesting, add to the pattern and with the advice of the expert at the shop, I decided to leave them. She asked if I could recreate them on the front. Again, knitting parallels life. I'm not really sure how I made the mistakes. I only know I didn't follow the pattern in those particular places. Don't we at times ask ourselves the questions: "what did I do wrong?" "Why didn't I listen?" In knitting, we can take out the mistakes, begin again. In life we ask for forgiveness, regroup and pray for wisdom to follow God's direction.
News from the compound:
- Sarah fell off the rip-stick Saturday and broke her arm.
- Last Tuesday I met Pastor Steve for an afternoon of visiting shut-ins and serving communion. It was a great time!
- Friday night I took Sarah to Petal's Homecoming. She loved the court, the game and especially watching Jacob in the outstanding band show. I loved some of those things too, but most of all loved that time with her.
- Saturday I went to knitting class, the grocery store and spent the afternoon cooking. By bedtime, I was exhausted. Lesson learned: my energy is not limitless!
- Sunday I drove to Jackson for some R&R w/ friends. We ate well, visited well and on Monday went to the (new to me) Mississippi Craft Center. It has always been one of my favorite places to go to buy gifts and had been housed in a log cabin structure right on the Natchez Trace. Now it has moved to a much larger, new building closer to the Ross Barnett Resevoir. We also went by the "old" Farmers' Market--only two vendors remain. Others have moved to a newer spot a few miles away. Sad, but I guess that's progress. I'll just have to gaze at the Wyatt Waters' watercolor print of my favorite produce place that is hanging in a prominent place in the house. It brings memories of three generations of our buying there, hours spent pickling, canning and freezing what we bought.
- When I arrived home, my door was unlocked, the airconditioner was going full blast, the lights and the TV were on and the Suttle cat was asleep in a chair. I had been invaded!! Shortly, Tommy walked in and asked if I noticed what all had been done. I had given him a list of things he needed to do for me and he had done almost all of them. Wow! I should go away more often. Light bulbs had been changed, filters in vents replaced, a leaky commode fixed and all the stereo equipment hooked up--though the CD player looks a little quaint resting on four giant legos. Next time he says, "Just give me a list," I'll be more prompt in responding!
Coming up is a trip to San Antonio for the annual Presbyterian Older Adult Ministry Network conference, being held this year in conjucntion with the Association of Retired Ministers and Spouses. I have not attended in three years and I'm looking forward to seeing friends. In November I'm headed to Raleigh to see Marty and her family. That will be great!!!
The lectionary epistle readings right now are in Philippians. This morning I read the book through in The Message and the words Peterson had translated gave additional insights. I have always heard that if one word were used to describe Philippians, it would be "rejoice." Paul's joy in knowing Christ, his joy in his relationship w/ the people of Philippi and the joy he wants to share with them literally jumps off the pages. Have you ever been so grateful for things in your Christian life that you want more than anything for others to know/experience the joy you have? I often have those thoughts. I want so much for my friends and loved ones to share the trust I have, yet words are inadequate. Paul tells the Philippians to live the joy, let their lives show the love they have for God. He says "Enjoy God." Amen and Amen.
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret
Saturday, September 17, 2011
Life is like the Honeycomb pattern . . .
Several weeks ago I found a men's sweater pattern that I liked. It was labeled "easy," and looked like something I could do. After many starts, stops, ripping and frustration I think I finally have the pattern and instructions nailed to my brain and in my fingers. Much to my dismay, I discovered that some of what I thought were mistakes were not. The complete pattern is eight rows and has to be completed at least a couple of times before it remotely resembles the picture. The owner of the yarn shop encouraged me yesterday to keep on following the pattern, step by step, stitch by stich and I would discover that I had indeed knit a finished product. As I sat and knit last night, I realized how similar to life her instructions are. We don't always see the finished product, we don't always know where we are headed, we don't always know just where it is that God is calling us or what God wants us to do--it doesn't matter. Our task is to keep on following the pattern God has laid out, step by step, faithfully and obediently doing as God instructs. When the time is right, we'll see.
I've had a fine Saturday. I put the finishing touches on the sermon I'm preaching in Laurel tomorrow, made a pound cake for Tommy and Liz to take to a family with a new baby, had a phone visit with a lady from the church, knit, watched football and played with three of the grandchildren. Whew! Now I'm tired, ready to eat a hamburger fresh off the grill and go to bed. Morning will come and I have to allow myself enough time to find my way through the country backroads to Laurel--about thirty miles from here. It's the church where Tommy worked before going to Tennessee and I baptized Drew there. It will be great to be in the pulpit and to see old friends.
Monday, I'm up early again, but this time headed to Jackson for a doctor's appointment. He has scans scheduled again--nor sure why. I continue to wait for some idea of what consistent treatment will look like. Meanwhile, I pray to know what it is God has in mind for me now. There is a cross stitched poem haning over my computer desk. It was a favorite of a friend's mother and when she died, the friend had the poem printed on notecards that she used to acknowledge remembrances for her mom. I charted it for cross stitch and made one for the friend and one for myself. It reads:
Help me, O God,
not to put off a task or
delay a decision until tomorrow
that I should do or make today.
May I live this day in such a way
that if your call for me should
sound at morning, noontime, or evening,
it may find me ready. Amen.
It's part of the honeycomb pattern. Funny how losing a spouse affects our outlook on the future. For so long, we lived a life of "when" and "later." When we realized just how illness would alter the course of our lives, we knew that the whens and laters didn't matter. Life is now. Life is very much today. It is taking things step by step, focusing on obedience, being ready.
God bless you as you worship tomorrow!
Pastor Margaret
Several weeks ago I found a men's sweater pattern that I liked. It was labeled "easy," and looked like something I could do. After many starts, stops, ripping and frustration I think I finally have the pattern and instructions nailed to my brain and in my fingers. Much to my dismay, I discovered that some of what I thought were mistakes were not. The complete pattern is eight rows and has to be completed at least a couple of times before it remotely resembles the picture. The owner of the yarn shop encouraged me yesterday to keep on following the pattern, step by step, stitch by stich and I would discover that I had indeed knit a finished product. As I sat and knit last night, I realized how similar to life her instructions are. We don't always see the finished product, we don't always know where we are headed, we don't always know just where it is that God is calling us or what God wants us to do--it doesn't matter. Our task is to keep on following the pattern God has laid out, step by step, faithfully and obediently doing as God instructs. When the time is right, we'll see.
I've had a fine Saturday. I put the finishing touches on the sermon I'm preaching in Laurel tomorrow, made a pound cake for Tommy and Liz to take to a family with a new baby, had a phone visit with a lady from the church, knit, watched football and played with three of the grandchildren. Whew! Now I'm tired, ready to eat a hamburger fresh off the grill and go to bed. Morning will come and I have to allow myself enough time to find my way through the country backroads to Laurel--about thirty miles from here. It's the church where Tommy worked before going to Tennessee and I baptized Drew there. It will be great to be in the pulpit and to see old friends.
Monday, I'm up early again, but this time headed to Jackson for a doctor's appointment. He has scans scheduled again--nor sure why. I continue to wait for some idea of what consistent treatment will look like. Meanwhile, I pray to know what it is God has in mind for me now. There is a cross stitched poem haning over my computer desk. It was a favorite of a friend's mother and when she died, the friend had the poem printed on notecards that she used to acknowledge remembrances for her mom. I charted it for cross stitch and made one for the friend and one for myself. It reads:
Help me, O God,
not to put off a task or
delay a decision until tomorrow
that I should do or make today.
May I live this day in such a way
that if your call for me should
sound at morning, noontime, or evening,
it may find me ready. Amen.
It's part of the honeycomb pattern. Funny how losing a spouse affects our outlook on the future. For so long, we lived a life of "when" and "later." When we realized just how illness would alter the course of our lives, we knew that the whens and laters didn't matter. Life is now. Life is very much today. It is taking things step by step, focusing on obedience, being ready.
God bless you as you worship tomorrow!
Pastor Margaret
Sunday, September 11, 2011
A gazillion reasons I haven't posted . . .
- Problems with the computer responding--drives me crazy, so I just turn it off.
- I have become addicted to knitting.
- Discovered books by favorite authors that I hadn't yet read.
- Granny day care two days a week and some afternoons.
- Continued efforts to stash all my stuff.
- Boredom and loneliness don't need to find their way to printed page.
Even now, as I type, letters and whole words appear seconds after I type and the cursor jumps around all over the place. Is my problem the computer or the internet connection?
I discovered a knitting group at the local shop and I try to go every Friday for a couple of hours. In between times I work on projects. Actually my skills have improved, especially those necessary for ripping out, fixing mistakes or starting over.
When I'm not knitting, I'm reading. Lately I've read some real "page turners" and can't put them down until I'm finished. Friday I went to the Petal Library to get a card and to get the schedule for storytime. Elisa and I will check it out this Thursday. Coincidentally, the library is just across the street from the yarn shop. How's that for convenience?
Elisa spends Tuesdays and Thursdays with me. It's great fun and company for me, but when she's here I do little else but talk to her, read, color or play outside. The fact is: everything else can wait!
It seems as if I've spent hours and hours going through boxes in the office. That is tedious, but also it can be quite emotional. There are so many signs of memories. Tom is everywhere!
Every once in a while Elisa will say to me: "I'm boring." Obviously she has heard older brothers and sister complain about being bored. For sure, she is never boring and her saying that makes me wonder if part of my boredom at times is because I'm a bore myself. I'm working on being alone and not lonely. It's hard and that's all I'll say.
Our God has promised never to leave us alone.
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Enjoy God . . .
Psalm 68:4 in The Message says Enjoy God, cheer when you see him! That instruction was on my mind as I drove to church this morning. I cheered as I drove past the Mom and Pop vegetable stand just down the road, being thankful for all the fresh produce we enjoy. I cheered as I took a look at God's creation, ordinary sights I often take for granted. I cheered when I approached two Petal churches, their parking lots filled to capacity. And I cheered as I reflected on the celebration of Tom's birthday we had last night and the night before.
Friday, August 12, Tom would have been seventy. It was a day I had been dreading. For lots of years I had tried to make it the most special day for him. Now, what would I do? The day would be lonely; there would be no surprises, no plans just for him. I need not to have worried. Friends who have long been part of some of those surprises and celebrations called or wrote notes. Family here said I could remain by myself or be with them. The day was full. I went into Petal to the yarn shop to meet some new folks and knit for a while, then met our pastor for a two and a half hour lunch. That night, after teenagers had been taken to their activities and the little ones had gone to bed, we enjoyed one of Tom's favorite meals--grilled steak, twice baked potato and green salad with homemade dressing full of horseradish--just the way he liked it. Last night when all the children were present we poured champagne for the adults, sparkling grape juice for the children and toasted Paw Paw. Liz asked each child to share a memory. This morning I cheered when I thought of what they had shared and I felt Tom smiling, tears glistening in his eyes. I cheered as I thanked God for Tom's birthday. It was a special day and a special celebration.
I pray that I will always remember to enjoy God and that I will cheer when I see Him in things both great and small.
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret
Psalm 68:4 in The Message says Enjoy God, cheer when you see him! That instruction was on my mind as I drove to church this morning. I cheered as I drove past the Mom and Pop vegetable stand just down the road, being thankful for all the fresh produce we enjoy. I cheered as I took a look at God's creation, ordinary sights I often take for granted. I cheered when I approached two Petal churches, their parking lots filled to capacity. And I cheered as I reflected on the celebration of Tom's birthday we had last night and the night before.
Friday, August 12, Tom would have been seventy. It was a day I had been dreading. For lots of years I had tried to make it the most special day for him. Now, what would I do? The day would be lonely; there would be no surprises, no plans just for him. I need not to have worried. Friends who have long been part of some of those surprises and celebrations called or wrote notes. Family here said I could remain by myself or be with them. The day was full. I went into Petal to the yarn shop to meet some new folks and knit for a while, then met our pastor for a two and a half hour lunch. That night, after teenagers had been taken to their activities and the little ones had gone to bed, we enjoyed one of Tom's favorite meals--grilled steak, twice baked potato and green salad with homemade dressing full of horseradish--just the way he liked it. Last night when all the children were present we poured champagne for the adults, sparkling grape juice for the children and toasted Paw Paw. Liz asked each child to share a memory. This morning I cheered when I thought of what they had shared and I felt Tom smiling, tears glistening in his eyes. I cheered as I thanked God for Tom's birthday. It was a special day and a special celebration.
I pray that I will always remember to enjoy God and that I will cheer when I see Him in things both great and small.
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Popcorn Runs in the Family . . .
(*Dedicated to my FOP popcorn buddy.)
Until Monday I thought I was the only member of our family who feasts on popcorn for lunch. When I checked in with Sarah, chief baby sitter for those who had not yet started to school, to see if she had any ideas for lunch, she replied: I thought I'd pop popcorn. I knew she loved it almost as much as I, but didn't know it was a lunch time favorite. Being the conscientious grandmother that I am, I said that was fine by me, but they needed something that at least sounded more nutritious. I offered grapes. After everyone except Elisa and I ate, she and I walked back over to my house. The thought of popcorn and the lingering aroma was a reminder that it had been a while since I'd had such a lunch so I popped a bag for Elisa and me. She consumed almost the entire bag, leaving me to wonder how such a little girl could eat so much popcorn. Best of all is the memory of seeing her snuggled up in the chair beside me, holding the bowl, munching away.
Jacob started to school Monday and the other three went today. Elisa spent the day with me.
Meredith had her first day in kindergarten and looked so grown up in her uniform of khaki shirt and red polo, topped off with a white bow in her hair. She has matching backpack and lunchbox. She reported that her favorite part of the day was the playground and getting a snack from the teacher. No one could get all their supplies in their backpacks. Hopefully, those things will be less filled from now on or they will all be bent over from carrying such loads. Sarah made some new friends and said she had a good day. I have just finished making colored letters on the computer for a folder she is making about herself. When we came to the office to print the pages, I saw the same kind of folder that Tommy made when he was her age. Maybe tomorrow I'll hear about Drew's first day in a new school.
As for me, I drew lots of pictures and watched a lot of Sponge Bob Squarepants. I'm still trying to figure out if it has any educational value. I did get some more things unpacked and put away. Maybe I'll print colored letters for Elisa tomorrow and for sure, we'll tune into a different program!
Happiness is being a grandmomma to eight special children! Now, if only I could see my North Carolina ones more often!!
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret
(*Dedicated to my FOP popcorn buddy.)
Until Monday I thought I was the only member of our family who feasts on popcorn for lunch. When I checked in with Sarah, chief baby sitter for those who had not yet started to school, to see if she had any ideas for lunch, she replied: I thought I'd pop popcorn. I knew she loved it almost as much as I, but didn't know it was a lunch time favorite. Being the conscientious grandmother that I am, I said that was fine by me, but they needed something that at least sounded more nutritious. I offered grapes. After everyone except Elisa and I ate, she and I walked back over to my house. The thought of popcorn and the lingering aroma was a reminder that it had been a while since I'd had such a lunch so I popped a bag for Elisa and me. She consumed almost the entire bag, leaving me to wonder how such a little girl could eat so much popcorn. Best of all is the memory of seeing her snuggled up in the chair beside me, holding the bowl, munching away.
Jacob started to school Monday and the other three went today. Elisa spent the day with me.
Meredith had her first day in kindergarten and looked so grown up in her uniform of khaki shirt and red polo, topped off with a white bow in her hair. She has matching backpack and lunchbox. She reported that her favorite part of the day was the playground and getting a snack from the teacher. No one could get all their supplies in their backpacks. Hopefully, those things will be less filled from now on or they will all be bent over from carrying such loads. Sarah made some new friends and said she had a good day. I have just finished making colored letters on the computer for a folder she is making about herself. When we came to the office to print the pages, I saw the same kind of folder that Tommy made when he was her age. Maybe tomorrow I'll hear about Drew's first day in a new school.
As for me, I drew lots of pictures and watched a lot of Sponge Bob Squarepants. I'm still trying to figure out if it has any educational value. I did get some more things unpacked and put away. Maybe I'll print colored letters for Elisa tomorrow and for sure, we'll tune into a different program!
Happiness is being a grandmomma to eight special children! Now, if only I could see my North Carolina ones more often!!
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret
Saturday, August 06, 2011
August . . .
What happened to June and July? It seems like just yesterday that we were frantically packing, saying our goodbyes and heading south. The children just finished school for the year and suddenly they are a few inches taller, brown from the sun and "eagerly" anticipating the start of a new school year Wednesday--all except Jake who starts Monday. (Of course, that's not counting the two weeks he has already spent at band camp.) I look around, still seeing boxes and clutter and wonder what I did during the preceding months. And, I wonder if things will ever be decent and in order.
One great stumbling block is taking time to go through boxes of memorabilia. I have both "who cares?" and "I surely can't throw this away" attitudes. Do my children want to have to go through a box containing cards they made for me when they were little? Will they care about their first grade writing exercises? If I save all of Tom's awards and commendations will his descendants know any more about him? I've been going through such a box this week and have found that I can't look at all those things in one sitting. I have to remember - - - and that takes time.
Today has been a lazy day, simply because I designated it as such. Only necessary chores have been done. For the most part I have sat with my knitting trying to figure out instructions to finish one project and begin another. I learned yesterday that the shop here in Petal has a "sit and knit" session every Friday and I look forward to going this next week. Hopefully, I'll meet some new friends and learn something too.
Mornings don't start that early, but they begin with getting the coffee ready and settling down in the recliner to read a page from a John Calvin devotional book and my daily Bible chapters. It has been a while since I have followed my suggested pattern of reading a Proverb and 5 Psalms a day, so I started that the first of August again. Only this time, I'm reading from The Message and find the translation interesting and refreshing. Many of you have heard me repeat this recommendation made to me by friend and mentor, Joe Rightmyer, and I find that each time I follow this practice I learn more and draw closer to God. A more serene setting helps really focus my attention where it needs to be. Ah! Retirement in the country!!
Tomorrow is the day of worship and our minister will be back in the pulpit, back from vacation. I look forward to being present, to hearing the message, and to sharing communion with a new church family!
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret
What happened to June and July? It seems like just yesterday that we were frantically packing, saying our goodbyes and heading south. The children just finished school for the year and suddenly they are a few inches taller, brown from the sun and "eagerly" anticipating the start of a new school year Wednesday--all except Jake who starts Monday. (Of course, that's not counting the two weeks he has already spent at band camp.) I look around, still seeing boxes and clutter and wonder what I did during the preceding months. And, I wonder if things will ever be decent and in order.
One great stumbling block is taking time to go through boxes of memorabilia. I have both "who cares?" and "I surely can't throw this away" attitudes. Do my children want to have to go through a box containing cards they made for me when they were little? Will they care about their first grade writing exercises? If I save all of Tom's awards and commendations will his descendants know any more about him? I've been going through such a box this week and have found that I can't look at all those things in one sitting. I have to remember - - - and that takes time.
Today has been a lazy day, simply because I designated it as such. Only necessary chores have been done. For the most part I have sat with my knitting trying to figure out instructions to finish one project and begin another. I learned yesterday that the shop here in Petal has a "sit and knit" session every Friday and I look forward to going this next week. Hopefully, I'll meet some new friends and learn something too.
Mornings don't start that early, but they begin with getting the coffee ready and settling down in the recliner to read a page from a John Calvin devotional book and my daily Bible chapters. It has been a while since I have followed my suggested pattern of reading a Proverb and 5 Psalms a day, so I started that the first of August again. Only this time, I'm reading from The Message and find the translation interesting and refreshing. Many of you have heard me repeat this recommendation made to me by friend and mentor, Joe Rightmyer, and I find that each time I follow this practice I learn more and draw closer to God. A more serene setting helps really focus my attention where it needs to be. Ah! Retirement in the country!!
Tomorrow is the day of worship and our minister will be back in the pulpit, back from vacation. I look forward to being present, to hearing the message, and to sharing communion with a new church family!
Blessings,
Pastor Margaret
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Another update . . .
The visit with the doctor in Jackson yesterday went well, but all the news didn't reach me until this morning. There is both good and bad news and some inbetween.
The visit with the doctor in Jackson yesterday went well, but all the news didn't reach me until this morning. There is both good and bad news and some inbetween.
- Good news first: NO progression of disease
- Then, the bad: Protein count is still to high for treatment with Avastin, so we wait, praying that will correct itself and that there will be no permanent kidney damage
- And next the in between: My appendix is enlarged and needs to be watched.
The nurse commented that "someone" is definitely looking out for me. I could tell her, with joy and conviction, that He always does!
I drove through some torrential rain going to Jackson Sunday afternoon and before I left to come home yesterday, Tommy called to alert me to the bad storms in our area. Thankfully, they had passed before I got here. For several days in a row, the heavens have opened and the heavy rains have come. Saturday afternoon Tommy had to run into town to get a couple of things from the grocery and on the way in, he called me. He had driven past the other house we had considered before settling on this one and he just wanted to tell me how glad he was that we made the decision we had made. He said front yard of the other house looked like a lake!
You know, God showers blessings on us like the clouds dump the rain. Blessings overflow in our lives, pooling around us like an abundance of rain floods our yards. Around here everything is so green. The crops are flourishing, cotton is blossoming; signs of abundance of the blessings of Nature. As I drove past those abundant fields this morning I asked myself: Should this sight not serve as a reminder that just as God showers us, we should likewise grow and flourish? God's goodness is all around us; it is within us, waiting to be acknowledged and shared.
Rejoice and be glad!
Pastor Margaret
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