Y’all are gonna crack up. I’ve really challenged myself today.
My dear friend Rhonda, who is the director of our tee-totally fabulous library system, is who I am honoring and praying for especially today.
Rhonda and I could not be more different.
She has spent her life serving the poor, the needy, and last but not least, her children….who are also poor and needy, come to think of it {looking at you, Miss Caroline!!}. Rhonda is a levelheaded and terrific friend, a wonderful cook and homemaker, a Disney Aficionado, and a stalwart leader of many. She has a ready smile or a cocked eyebrow, depending on the discussion.
Baker, Beth, and I are just a little bit scared of her.
So anyway. It should surprise no one that her prayer request, first and foremost, was for her children. She has sent them both off to college, and while Logan has completed his degree and returned home safe and sound and created a family of his own, Rhonda worries. There is no end to the worrying. While she dotes on her little princess of a grandchild, she worries about things that are not even in her control (she also thinks about bows, but that’s neither here nor there). Caroline, on the other hand, has gone off into the big dangerous city of Knoxville (insert derisive snort here) and has left Miss Rhonda with a bit of empty nest syndrome.
It’s really not funny. For someone who built their whole world around these children, I know her heart is sore. We tried to drown the pain with some of our favorite fruity (or spicy, in Rhonda’s case) adult beverages a few times but the funny thing about being heartsick is the pain always returns. You can’t stop worrying any more than you can stop loving and unfortunately the two go hand in hand. She even worried last summer that Caroline had been eaten by a shark because she was out of her sight for approximately nineteen seconds. Yes, the three of us ridiculed her mercilessly about that for some time, always ending with, “But seriously, what are you gonna do when she leaves for college?”
What she did was what all good mothers do, whether they admit it or not= wad up on the couch watching sappy movies, constantly texting her daughter to check in, and baking for all the people in her life. Oh, and it goes without saying, crying in the shower.
The struggle is real.
Caroline is her sparkles, she says it all the time. And I say, thank God for that grandbaby a few miles down the road.
So today I pray that the Good Lord will watch over Caroline every day for the rest of her life, to be there with her because her momma physically can’t. Please ease Rhonda’s worries that she will leave this Earth before either one of them are ready. I ask for a hedge of protection around Caroline especially, Lord, as she dances and frolics her long-legged way around campus and her future endeavors. On every road, river, camel, train, and airplane, be wholly with her Lord. I ask that you give Rhonda’s heart peace that she is safe in your hands. Please guide Caroline, Logan, Leanna, and Fiona all the days of their lives and make sure they know that You are with them ALWAYS. They will never be alone, as long as they have You. And You never leave, as long as they seek You. I pray that they will all go on to live fruitful lives, leading others to You through their light. I pray that Rhonda and her children remain healthy and happy and will live long prosperous lives, always seeking You first for their decisions. I ask for favor and blessings on them as they pursue their dreams. I thank You for the gift of my friend, Rhonda, and her pure servant’s heart. I pray that she will always do as it pleases you, Lord, and to put the needs of her patrons above any red tape that she constantly battles. I pray her legs to be swift and her arms to be soft when helping children, guarding them against the evil in our public spaces as she opens doors to dimensions through her work in the library. I ask for plentiful funding to keep the building warm and the doors open to all that need it. (She didn’t ask me to pray for that, but I know she wants to). Because librarians and libraries change lives. They sure changed mine. This set in particular. I love her so, Lord, and I ask you keep her safe until you need her with you. Thank you for my true friend and ally. In Jesus name. Amen.
Now that I’m crying…
I asked her what she wanted me to fast. I was ready for something super imaginative and totally weird. Imagine my surprise when she said for me to pick it, because I knew best what I would benefit from.
So it would be no easy sacrifice. I had to hunt a hard to swallow pill.
And once I landed on it, I was unable to shake it. So I knew it was the right thing to do.
Today I will list ten things that give me hope in the next generation.
I thought I would go over to the library before spin to observe and get ideas, but that’s just like jabbing myself in the eye. And I didn’t want to get my blood pressure up and then go give myself a stroke. I can do this.
- I have hope that the children of today will be active conservationists, creating less waste and being more mindful of what pollutants we distribute into the land, water, and air.
- I have faith that the next generation will continue to grow technology and always be at the forefront of industry.
- I believe that the children of today will practice tolerance and acceptance into their adult lives.
- I have seen proof that kids will always seek an escape through books, and they will encourage their children to read.
- I pray that this group will remember that bullying is not a means to get what you want, but all things come through the Grace of God and perseverance.
- I pray that this generation will remember to always invoke the freedom of speech and the right to keep and bear arms. I also pray they research both political party’s agendas and make INFORMED votes, not just breeze through on what they hear from popular media sources.
- I pray that they remember to pray regularly.
- I pray that they will be strong enough to serve as soldiers and leaders and know when to take the keys away from Grandma.
- I hope that they will feel the reward of good deeds and acting as servants to those less fortunate, and practice good manners at every turn.
- I do so wish that they have to make their own way, and know the value of a dollar through hard work and due diligence.
I realize I may have cheated a little, but let me tell you, I was STRUGGLING. I can’t help it. I don’t have any first hand experience with kids (praise God!) so I had to base my thoughts off the handful I see on occasion. And not even all them give me hope, I’m sorry to say. Several would benefit from a switch. But anyway. I did it.
A quote from a church sign down the road from me one year ago today:
“If you can’t be thankful for what you have, be thankful for what you’ve escaped.”
Let me add here, it has come to my attention sometimes as I pray I feel guilty for expressing my so-called needs. To many people in this world they would be wants. Rhonda felt this way. I’m no preacher, but I say pray for whatever your heart leads you to pray for. Our struggles may be different day to day, year to year. But if it eases your heart and your mind to pray for something, by all means, DO IT. If nothing more than to just get in the habit. And don’t be ashamed to ask people to pray for you. It is an honor and a blessing to pray for my friends, and I believe all Christians feel the same. Pray for your dog, be thankful for your full belly, ask for protection of our leaders, and a clear mind with your eyes on the One, and I think you’ll be in good shape. But what do I know? I’m just a sinner with a head full of dreams. Don’t look to me, look to the Good Book.
Till tomorrow, y’all,
Love from Appalachia,
Amy xoxo
Namaste.
I’ve had this eye twitch for some time now. It’s really an aggravation. Everybody asks what I’m stressed about, and while I could give you one big reason, it’s not really a reason at all. Time marches on. And as Dolly says, you’ll soon realize it’s marching right across your face.
About a year ago, I attended a book signing at my favorite library. Well, that’s a bit of a lie. My favorite library is my personal library here at home, followed by Biltmore’s library. So, my third favorite library. But don’t tell Rhonda!!! I picked my seat next to a friendly looking stranger. I pegged her as a mom, stealing a few hours away from her kids. She seemed intelligent and normal enough.
Turns out, I chose wisely, even if I didn’t read her life right.
Today, I count her among my three closest friends. It’s amazing how you can bond with people when they’re open and honest and quite literally THERE for you. She is zero drama, 100% no judgment, and so funny I almost pee my pants every time we go out. She looks at me over those red rimmed glasses with her hair back in a knot, like, “Are you shittin’ me, Smalls?” I can quite clearly read her expression through text messages. I know by her pauses if there’s a punchline or a bombshell. And I know what she looks like as she reads these words.
Hi, Beth!
She’s the voice of reason when I’m going off the rails and she’ll talk me back down because murder is never a good idea. She has this great understanding of the world at large. No problem is too great; life is too short. She’s got a solution for every train wreck. I would definitely want her nearby in a crisis. I am so thankful we’re on this planet together. I can barely remember what my life was like before she entered it.
So today, I dedicate my Lent to Beth.
I’m a textbook worrier. And her request is to let go of worry. So today is another challenge for me. I’m trying to stay busy with some writing, reading, and virtual farming so my thoughts don’t have time to go a-wonderin’. I’m also attempting to watch where my thought pattern leads. It doesn’t take long for me to be a million miles away, down some rabbit hole of made up scenarios and have the sky falling.
Speaking of sky: I was stretching my neck and looking around the room where I write deciding about where I would put my old bookshelves and noticed a water stain on the ceiling. I’ve never had a water stain. This is troubling. But then I remembered, I am not to worry. I’m just gonna drag a ladder over to the corner of the house here and see what I can see. I can do that. I used to climb on my Mamaw’s roof all the time and sit up there and read with my cat.
So I did it. I think every pore on me was sweating, but I did it. I didn’t accomplish not one thing, unless you want to count not falling off the roof an accomplishment. I do. I didn’t find leaves in the gutter, surprisingly. I guess it’ll be okay. This old house….always so much to do to keep it from crumbling. I need to waterproof the basement walls again. I dread it. I hate painting. But no. That’s another worry and it will just have to be done.
It’s amazingly easy to let your thoughts run rampant. It doesn’t surprise me how often I have to rein myself back in. So I’m working on that.
In the meantime, I’m trying to send “positive vibes” into the atmosphere for Beth. She’s all about peaceful energy, things that spark joy, and creating space for good things to happen. She turned me onto yoga! And spin! Baker had been on me for eons to come to spin but I thought no way, I hiked with you, if you spin like you hike, I will die. Plain and simple. But Beth talked me down, talked me into coming, and essentially made it fun so we have something to whine about together while we try to better ourselves. And this yoga business, well, I’ve only been after it four days, but I can see how it changes people’s lives. Here’s a link to the first one I did- it’s super easy and short. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l1097wYhDOY
But I’m a firm believer you have to be ready to change and want to do things differently before it will influence you. We’re all searching for more- a better understanding of people or the world at large. Explanations why good things happen to bad people and vice versa. I read once that we’re all a villain in someone’s story. That’s hard to think about. I know I have several enemies, but I don’t dwell on it, because I turned them lose the minute they showed their true colors. But back to yoga. It really does make you feel differently, both inside your head and out. You become aware. So I’m glad I’m doing it, along with practicing Lent. I’m trying to become a better me. With all the centered breathing and stretching you do, it almost feels like getting to your feet after a massage. I’m not kidding, it’s that good! And I’m probably not even doing half of it right, but I’m telling you, it’s beneficial. I was at my hairdresser’s yesterday and was talking to her about it. She wears an Apple watch and it dings reminding her to breathe. Now tell ME she wouldn’t benefit from some yoga! When your watch senses you’re not breathing deeply enough and it’s important enough to send you a notification, that seems fairly major. There’s a class right down the road from us that we may join. We’ll see. But maybe she’ll pick up the YouTube yoga I posted. Adriene will not steer you wrong!
While we’re sending cheerful thoughts out there for Beth, I also want to remember an associate of hers who is struggling with an addiction issue. She seeks wisdom through the wise Beth, but then brushes it off with those hurtful words, “You don’t know anything about it”. Well, as far as this chick knows, she’s right. But what she doesn’t know makes her so incredibly wrong. Beth has overcome so much adversity in her life, has risen above a thousand things that could have made her wither and die. It would be paralyzing to most of us. But she made a conscious decision to go on, to be better, to find her path. It makes me angry to think of how that girl disregarded some sound advice from a loving friend. But…. it’s not my job to worry! I’m turning that over to the Lord as well.
So join me in praying for Beth, to bring her peace and more wisdom so she can bestow it on those who are smart enough to listen to her. Send her some energy for all these spin classes and some discernment for dealing with people who are just out to drain her. She’s an expert at dealing with catty women, but her heart is soft for people who need help. While we’re at it, I’m going to pray for that sort-of neighbor of hers, who is battling alcoholism. Actually, she’s not battling it at all, she’s fully embracing it while in the back of her mind knows she needs to claw her way out. I pray she reaches for the rope Beth has cast her. I pray she comes around before she loses something that can never be regained. I also want to send some prayers up for Beth’s bestie, whom I will not name, but just needs all the strength we can send her. That girl. I would have already run screaming stark naked into the woods, never to be heard from again. Lift all these ladies in prayer, if you would. They are all deserving of the rewards and promises of our Heaven and Lord.
Oh, and one more thing that I forgot to add so I’ve come back. Her sweet kitty Sage is getting up there in age and Beth needs a lot of kind thoughts to transition for when his time comes. She’s had him since he was a kitten, and he picked her. He picks her every time with his perfect (or should I say pawfect?) love. This cat has a good portion of her heart and it will be hard to let him go. You don’t get a pet thinking about that day, or you’d never be able to love them completely. So prayers for sweet, confident Sage as he goes on his journey too. Let it be easy. Lessen her pain, Lord. And bring them both peace. Thank you for putting this cat in her life, to help her through all the ups and downs and letting him be her constant. Thank you for the unconditional love of one of your creatures.
The window in front of where I write is open and it’s wonderful. I wanted to hike today, but I couldn’t find a soul to accompany me. See, this is why I struggle on beautiful days. I never have this problem on gloomy days. Nobody expects me to be active when it’s 36° and pouring the rain. But while I would be content to sit here and write all day, a part of me wants to climb House Mountain. It’s seventy and sunny and clear. After all this rain the ground would be springy and the streams would be running full tilt. You could see for miles with all the leaves off the trees, and wildflowers would be beginning to bloom. I could, technically, go alone. I used to all the time but I’m older now and also….I’ve been reading true crime. I’m not as brave as I once was. Maybe next week. Don’t tell the murderers.
So this was my Lenten journey today. Yaaaaaaaay, Beth!
Yay indeed.
Sugar has never tasted so good.
One thing for certain, I would never make it in a survival situation.
This morning I couldn’t wait to down my white chocolate mocha Starbucks drink. And then I fixed me a big cheesy omelet. I would like to say I enjoyed every bite but my eyes were bigger than my belly and I got a little carried away with peppers and bacon bits.
So anyway, you’ve probably deduced that today’s fast isn’t sugar or dairy. Praise be to God! Today it’s merely liquor, at the request of my Uncle Dale. He stipulated that it must be done on a Saturday. Clearly, he doesn’t know me at all, because I rarely drink on Saturdays; I clean.
Today was no exception. But I also had a hair appointment. I was about to have to start wearing a hat everywhere I went because my gray is REALLY BAD.
So I’m at the salon, and I go to throw something away and notice what looks like bacon in the trash can!!
See it? There at the bottom? And I’m like, who throws away bacon?!? And I turn to Christy and ask her why there’s bacon in her garbage can. I am thoroughly baffled.
And she’s like, “I threw away my gloves from when I mixed your hair dye, that’s probably what you’re seeing.”
And you know what? She was right. And you know what else? My HAIR looks like bacon! Now tell me, who doesn’t love my hair?
Because you can’t love bacon and not love my hair. And EVERYBODY loves bacon.
But anyway.
It’s a relief is what it is to be back to my terrible-bad eating habits. Isn’t that awful? My eyes should be on God but instead I’m being all sloth-like and eating everything in sight.
So my prayers today are for my Uncle Dale. What he needs most, in my opinion, are help with his legs and feet. I know it’s frustrating for him not to be able to jump up and go and do like he was able to for so long. He was always so active, hunting and fishing and gardening and now he has to be content with mechanicing– that is, putting a rear end in his Lazy Boy.
That’s one of his favorite jokes, you know.
So. If the Lord sees fit, please help him with better movement in his legs and feet. Please guide him to be patient on all things out of his control and to understand that not all people are quite so swift with numbers. Please use him as an instrument, Lord, for when others are ailing to show that cancer can be beat. He blesses most everyone he comes in contact with, with his good humor and twinkling blue eyes. Heal his heart, Lord, as he has lost many good friends in the past few years. I know it must be hard not having your core group of people who have known you their whole life. He has been a supporter of me since I was just a runty little wormy kid, teaching me about the outdoors and wildlife and how to behave. He showed me how to clean a fish when I wasn’t even big enough to see on the table, we had to drag a chair over. He taught me how to throw a frisbee, teach my dog to sit, and shoot guns. I hung around while he processed deer and we watched Twilight Zone episodes into the wee hours. He taught me how good Oreos are, and caramel, and how to take a joke but dish it back out, too. I learned to always, always carry a pocket knife and to count my change when the cashier hands it back to me. He taught me all about fishing and just all the little things that constantly arise. He has been a blessing to me, no doubt about it. He is always on my side.
And a good one to have in my corner, I might add, seeing as how he’s over 6’4″ and 300 pounds. (Well, he’s shrunk a little in recent years, but not that much). Here’s one of him at Christmas showing Kylar how to make a slime ball. I was about that age when I didn’t get my My Little Pony kite.
(For those of you that don’t know, that has been a thorn in his side for most of my life. It’s wonderful to irk him through all the years.)
He can’t understand why I’m doing Lent, since it’s not much fun. It’s not ABOUT fun, me and aunt Bren tried to tell him.
There was very little danger of me drinking today, but he wants to keep me safe and home and not even drink two beers if I’m out. And that’s good advice. So I take it.
Happy Lent, my friends! Go forward, be blessed, and be a blessing to all those you meet!
Sometimes I dream of moving. Living elsewhere. Like the Oregon coast. Or the forests of Idaho. Then I laugh and know I can’t– I’m southern through and through.
I talk southern, I cook southern, I dress southern.
I love horses and God and football. Lord, how I love football (SEC football, that is). I love beer drank on a tail gate and sweet tea sipped on a porch swing. I love cotton fields and apple festivals. I love Dolly Parton. I love magnolia trees and pearls and swimming in the lake.
I love old stately homes and hound dogs and athsmatic preachers. I love old ladies who wear hats and whose pocketbooks match their shoes. I love flamingos in the front yard and rusty mailboxes and picking squash. I love taking the long way home and giving directions that include “turn right where Charlie Maples’ grandson used to live”.
I love barn cats and pocketknives and flipping over rocks to hunt for crawdads. I love novels set in the south, movies set in the south, and people who come here searching for the real south. I love butterflies and bluebirds and barn swallows. I love fishing from a riverbank with worms you just dug from under the apple tree. I love blue tailed lizards and groundhogs and counting the stars. I love tomato sandwiches on white bread with Duke’s mayonnaise and a dash of salt.
I love knowing summer’s comin’, and I love knowing that cooler weather is coming after that. I love knowing why certain roads have their names and what breed of cattle are in that pasture. I love courthouses and camoflauge and collard greens.
I love maple trees and dogwoods and going to get ice cream on hot summer nights. I love craft shows and bluegrass festivals and tractor pulls. I love the sound of cicadas in the trees on humid evenings and the smells of honeysuckle and charcoal on the breeze. I love weddings and bonfires and river baptisms. I love casseroles that freeze beautifully and homemade pickles. I love aprons. I love green beans cooked with bacon grease and cornbread fried in a cast iron skillet. I love pine thickets and alligators and trains and flags. I love eating watermelon at picnic tables and fiddles picked up by old and young alike. I love clogging and the rhythmic beat of someone playing spoons. I love gravel roads and county fairs. I love Christmas lights and painted signs advertising vacation Bible school and produce for sale.
I love leaving for twenty minutes and catching lightning bugs and waving on back roads. I love knowing people at the store and copying recipes from old greasy index cards. I love handmade curtains in kitchen windows and fancy towels in guest bathrooms. I love talking to almost strangers at the beauty parlor and pressing leftovers into my guests’ hands in butter bowls.
I love when the grass turns green and daffodils come up so fast they bring the dirt with them. I love homemade pies and brown eggs and a plastic bag crammed full of cucumbers. I love when someone says, “Do what, now?” and when parents threaten to “tan hides”. I love bug zappers and falling down houses seemingly held up by the sheer volume of antiques. I love having my door opened and bowties with linen suits. I love things being overdone and just this side of tacky.
I love old things. I love storytellers.
I love it all.
I love the south.
Real estate is expensive.
A plot of undeveloped land, a parcel of floodplain, a mountainside you can’t even reach by road, all these will still set you back several thousand dollars.
…
A trailer, a camper or boat, a shack on a hill. A little more…
….
A modest house in the suburbs, a small, old home on a few acres, an apartment in town, these cost even more.
…
A tiny home in town, to call all your own, or a McMansion in a subdivision with just a patch of grass… we’re getting up there, now.
…
A fancy apartment in a city, a big house on the lake. A nice getaway from the hustle and grind. A seaside cottage, a perfectly appointed five bedroom showplace of a home. Hope you’ve got a good job or a rich uncle.
…
All these can be destroyed, no matter if they’re made of brick or concrete or wood. Wind, fire, flooding, overall devastation. You can try to protect them, investing in fancy security systems and strong fences. Heavy gates that lock by password protection. You can try, and you might succeed, from being a victim of theft. Mother nature doesn’t recognize the precautions, but you may do some good against humans who intend to bring destruction. You protect the valuable things in your life with locks and keys and codes.
…
But the most expensive real estate you cannot dwell in. You cannot invite your friends over to watch the game and eat pizza on your couch.
You can’t clean muddy paw prints from the floor, you can’t even lock the door. It cannot be destroyed by flooding, fire, earthquakes, or bulldozers.
The most expensive piece of real estate you own is your heart.
And you give it away.
Sometimes the person you give it to cherishes it, nurtures it, keeps it close to their own.
Sometimes the person squeezes it to make sure the love is real.
Sometimes the person disregards it, throws it out when something better comes along. Maybe they don’t even wait that long.
But we’re called to love, and that’s what we do, because our hearts don’t have gates to protect us. There are no fences. There is no password. People just stroll right on in, uninvited.
And when you lose a piece of your heart, it takes longer to rebuild than Roman roads. The grass won’t grow, the flowers don’t blossom. The soil is all but sterile.
For awhile.
But it will rain.
It will rain for a long time.
Rain brings renewal and healing.
And while it rains, seeds prepare themselves to burst open and strive to break ground. They’ve lain dormant for a long time. But now it’s time to soak up the sun’s warmth, to put down roots. It’s time to grow a few glossy leaves.
And after awhile, maybe several seasons, you’re ready to rebuild.
And you think you’ll be more careful with this fractured real estate. It’s prone to breaking in two. You’ve seen it shattered. You’ve nurtured it back with friends who helped you toil.
But the truth is, you have no say in the matter.
Build your fortress, but moats will be crossed and the drawbridge will be lowered. And hopefully the next tenant will be thankful for his warm, loving home.
I started worrying about this yesterday, while I was still on my sugar fast. I didn’t want to be caught woefully unprepared. No milk, no cheese, no butter, no cream. And so many of the things I was doing without yesterday, I would be without again today. Oh well. Part of it.
I planned my day, thinking of my poor friend who has gone without dairy for many years. Sure, she can take a pill, but it’s still uncomfortable, and probably not great for her gut. So she does without, and makes do with soy substitutes. As I will be.
Avocado toast for breakfast. All is well, as long as I don’t use butter to fry my egg. √ yes, that’s a square root symbol because WordPress makes everything super difficult.
I’m meeting momma Robin at Graze{ http://www.grazeburgers.com/} for lunch today, and I’m kinda wigging out about what I can eat. Naturally, the cheddar on my cheeseburger is out. So I’ll be having a regular burger. And no onion rings, because the batter probably has milk. The burger I would order under normal circumstances, the Tennessee, comes with bacon jam has Gouda cheese and onion rings. I ordered the standard burger. I realized I forgot to tell him no cheese as they set my tray down in front of me. Robin suggested I scrape it off. My friend wouldn’t be able to, and I tell her so. I open the bun and see it wouldn’t have mattered, anyway. Their Graze sauce is saturated into the bun.
I have broken Lent.
And so it is in this way that today becomes no chocolate day instead. I can still pray for my good friend, that her various ills be cured, and that her father’s kidney disease will not progress any further. She is stalwart and assertive with her health concerns. She adjusts and adapts and I have yet to see anything that will slow her down. In fact, I think she just tries that much harder. She is the picture of determination. And I admire her.
- “Dear friend, I pray that you may enjoy good health and that all may go well with you, even as your soul is getting along well.” ~3 John 1:2
- Exodus 15:26 —“For I am the Lord who heals you.”
- James 5:16 —“Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous person is powerful and effective.”
- “So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” ~Isaiah 41:10
- “Nevertheless, I will bring health and healing to it; I will heal my people and will let them enjoy abundant peace and security.” ~Jeremiah 33:6
She encourages so many others in their journey towards better health and is a cheerleader for all things she believes in. Like all good Southern girls, she loves her Daddy and loves the Lord and trusts them implicitly. I would not want to fight her in a battle of will or words. I would not want to fight her at all, because her eyes, while piercing, also hold a vulnerability. So Lord, if you would, please protect her, and let her know when she has met an obstacle that you must help her to overcome. Please don’t let her push herself too far, become so focused on a goal she loses sight of the big picture- Happiness and Faith in You. I pray for her father to overcome this disease they have labeled upon him, and also for her mother, Lord, who has always been a good steward of yours, that battles severe back pain daily. May she also know her boundaries, when she is doing too much for others and needs to nurture herself. May this family be blessed and comforted by you, Lord. By Jesus’s stripes they will be healed. Thank you for bringing her into my life and blessing me. In God’s name we pray.
It’s hard to find things for Lent. I already make my bed every morning, and I LIKE going without shoes. I should sacrifice part of my time for a good work, but I rarely see anything worth contributing to, honestly. I don’t want to enable an already crooked service. Maybe I should work on MY heart some more, so I could see the underlying good faith. I can practice more charitable works within myself, I know this. I’ve taken up yoga for a more spiritual line of corrective thought. I’m trying not to cuss (I’ve caught myself three or four times already, but at least I’m being proactive about it). My time on social media has taken a plunge, and my TV hasn’t been on in a week. By popular choices I’ve found on Google that leaves: Going without a pillow or bed, cold showers, no makeup, not looking in a mirror, going without a meal a day, putting a rock in my shoe, reading more scripture….It’s exhausting but I believe I’m getting to the right place for me. My awareness is more pointed than it was three days ago. I feel a bit more empathetic about many people who have health concerns and food allergies. It takes some researching to find things you are able to eat! This is something I’ve never gave one moment of thought to. And so. I will go ahead and end here today, there should be no danger of me consuming chocolate. Go forward, and be blessed, dear reader.
Silly me. I committed to a serious undertaking yesterday, putting you folks in charge of my life for the next 39 days!!! So far I’ve agreed to not drink alcohol (On a SATURDAY!!), to follow the speed limit, to not worry, to not intake any sugar TODAY, and a whole bunch of other hard to follow ones. ***Dramatic pose: back of my hand across my forehead with my eyes closed and neck exposed***
10:14 am. So, like I said, today is no sugar. This is a real challenge. I’ve been worried about it ever since I committed. But the sweet lady I’m fasting it for is so worth it. She’s an angel, I’m telling you. She’s been so helpful and sweet to me and I just pray that the Lord blesses her threefold. She has special prayers concerning her family, which I will not divulge, but I pray for God’s wisdom to be cast upon her sister. And I pray for guidance for her niece, who is facing an uphill battle. I pray that the parties involved can discern right from wrong and that they open their minds to understand and follow Your will. I pray for peace for my dear friend, and knowledge that she lays firmly in Your supportive hands, Lord. I pray for encouraging and exacting words to roll from her tongue and power to be steadfast in her decisions. Please clothe her in Your armor and prepare her for a resolution. Give her strength, Lord. Make her confident in all aspects of her life. She is beautiful inside and out. I also pray that she will soon find herself settled in a new house of worship. I pray that you will give her husband wisdom and that they will work together to find a comfortable and enriching church home, following you. Bless her abundantly, Lord, for she does Your work daily, and belief shines out of her eyes and through her brilliant smile.
Now. About this sugar. It’s hard to give up. I was so relieved to find there is no sugar in my wheat bread, Duke’s mayonnaise, or Food City brand bacon. So at least I could have a bacon tomato sandwich. I had already resigned myself to cantaloupe and hard boiled eggs for breakfast, so that was a real treat. Although I AM concerned about lunch. And supper. And obviously, ice cream is out. I already did without any coffee drinks for breakfast. So I’m pretty sleepy. I wonder how all the other Lent observers are doing with what they’re giving up. IT’S ONLY THE SECOND DAY.
Looking at lunch options, this is going to be super difficult. I was thinking I could do Popeye’s chicken. I always want their cole slaw, but it contains sugar. And what good is spicy chicken if you can’t wash it down with their sweet tea? So that’s out. Looks like I’ll be eating salad with some kind of vinaigrette dressing, or maybe a meat/ cracker/cheese tray.
Have I mentioned how much I love coffee-flavored sugar milk?
AND MOUNTAIN DEW????
It’s 11:36. I’m never gonna make it.
4:12 has found me fretting about supper. I finally ate at 1:30, some antipasto and grapes and melon. I had a little cheese and crackers- turns out you gotta be careful with crackers, Club crackers have a little sugar, as does Ranch dressing. I was going to go to Popeye’s for some chicken and cole slaw, but what good is spicy chicken if you can’t wash it down with sweet tea? So that will have to wait for another day. I don’t think I’m going to be able to snack on popcorn tonight, I’m reasonably sure Kettle Corn has artificial sugar added to enrich flavor.
Every time I think about what I can eat, or not eat, I remember why I’m doing this and stop and pray for my friend. I’ve thought of her often, and messaged her with an update a little bit ago. She told me my prayers were working, because she had gotten a text from a lady she had known since she was little that she has attended church with for decades. Her heart had been hurting because she had not heard from this individual since she left the church. More prayers for my sweet friend and her burdened heart.
It was slim pickin’s for supper, indeed. Chicken and stars have sugar. Chinese food is loaded. I was going to fix an omelet and hash browns but I’d forgot to bring home my tomatoes and salsa has sugar. I scoped out my kettle corn and noted it showed 0% sugar but listed a product called sucralose, which sounded suspiciously like sugar. Turns out it’s an artificial sugar, like Splenda or Sweet-n-low, which I loathe, so I opted out. It felt like cheating. I had some cantaloupe, corn chips, and questionable guacamole. I was still hungry so a little later I fixed up a baked potato with salt, pepper, butter, and cheese. Did you know that there is sugar in sour cream and bacon bits?!?! Sugar is in EVERYTHING.
Today was hard. However, it is certainly raising my awareness of those who can’t have certain things. And it caused me to spend more time in prayer for my dear sweet friend. And that’s what it is all about.
For several years now, I have observed Lent by giving up Facebook. No doubt it is my #1 vice. It is a major timewaster. Sure, I keep up with my friends through it, but for the most part it’s just people I vaguely know sharing memes. Not that they aren’t funny, not that they don’t make me smile. But surely I could find something to make me smile elsewhere that didn’t entail me mindlessly scrolling for ten minutes every hour. Surely a friend could make me laugh through a text, phone call, or visit. Surely I can live without Facebook for the next forty days.
After a few years of taking this break, it was no longer something I was sacrificing to show my faith. It was something I looked forward to. I wasn’t growing in my relationship with Christ, it was a social media vacation. I didn’t use the time to flip through my Bible, I used the time to read for pleasure. Or shop online. Or a million other things. So this year, I’m doing things a little different. This year I’m making it a real challenge. I’m giving up several things, and I’m incorporating my gift into blessing forty people.
You don’t have to be Catholic to follow Lent. You don’t even have to be a Christian. It might lead you to a better lifestyle, even though that isn’t the believer’s ultimate goal (we’re supposed to use these 40 days to observe how completely He loves us, just like every day). Here are some common ones, and a few I found intriguing. Maybe you could try them all, doing one each day. Or pick four, and do one each week of Lent. The starred ones are the ones I am doing. It seems like a lot, but as far as social media goes, I won’t be able to give it up ENTIRELY due to work and checking messenger, the cussing I should have quit forever ago, the gratitude needs to become a habit. Only the last one is really a sacrifice.
- Give up social media (or even just one, like Twitter, Instagram, or Snapchat) ******
- Give up sugar, salt, or condiments
- Give up cussing ******
- Give up soft drinks, coffee, or alcohol
- Give up eating out, send that money to charity
- Give up plastic or single use items (I’ve done this one as a lifestyle change)
- Sleep on the floor or without a pillow
- Give up Netflix, gaming, or TV (or cut way back and use the time you spend for interacting with family or friends face to face. Or in Bible study)
- Quit reading or watching the news (trust me, I’ve lived without the news for years, besides what I can’t help but see on Facebook. This will improve your outlook on life, as you realize how little news affects you, really)
- Stop biting your nails
- Give up speeding {I might do that next year. Gulp}
- Give up online shopping (I did this one in 2017 to kick my Lularoe Legging habit. It worked!)
- Give up sarcasm
- Stop talking about yourself unless someone asks you a direct question
- Maintain silence on your commute
- Give up complaining~focus on gratitude
- Give up pessimism~become an optimist
- Give up worry~ trust Divine Providence
- Give up bitterness ~ turn to forgiveness
- Give up hatred ~ return good for evil
- Give up anger ~ be more patient
- Give up pettiness ~ become mature
- Give up gloom ~ enjoy beauty all around you
- Give up jealousy ~ pray for trust
- Give up gossiping ~ control your tongue
- Give up sin ~ turn to virtue (this applies to a few on this list already)
- Give up GIVING UP ~ hang in there!!!
- Start a gratitude journal *****(to be included in my daily post)
- Think of a person in your life and offer them one day of Lent. *****
So. Here’s what I’m going to do. If you would like to be included on my list of Lent, message me. I will still be checking my Facebook private messages during this time for this purpose. You can also comment here, I will check in daily. Or if you have my number, text me! If you have a prayer request, I will acknowledge that. I can either post it publicly through my blog, or keep it private. I can write it as a generalization or personalize it completely to you. It will be my honor to pray for you, write for you, and sacrifice for you! Get in touch! I’m just doing me today, since the day is half gone. And all improvement starts at Ground Zero.
I am grateful for my friends, Lord. They buoy me through encouraging words and remind me to keep my eyes on you, Lord, for the ultimate prize. Without them, my light would not shine nearly as bright. They work through you to show me love in compliments and how I am constantly improving the people around me through my smiles and energy. They console me and shore me up in my dark times. May I always be a light for you. Please continue to use me as a steward to share your love and message. I pray that you will lead me on the path to righteousness and that others will see you through me, and ask for help when they need it. I pray that no one is too ashamed to seek me out for prayer, and that they are honest in their specific needs. Please use me and my gift of the written word to examine my life and improve upon it.
Tomorrow is for a valued, sweet friend I met roughly a year ago–I’m giving up sugar for her! That will be super hard! But I have 38 days to fill after that. Y’all holler.
“Good Lord willin’ and the creek don’t rise.”
Well, guess what?
It’s official. I have risked my life for books. I didn’t aim to, just for clarification. The news will scare you to death if you watch it. That’s why I don’t watch it. They’re always Chicken Little when it comes to weather. Every windy day is impending tornadoes, every snowflake is a blizzard, and every raindrop is a flood. And if the sun is shining, the pollen count is lethal and the UV rays are gamma lasers. Impending disasters at every turn. So I just do my own thing. I have a weather porch. It’s like a weather rock. Never heard of it, you say? Well, here’s how it works: if my porch is wet, it’s raining. If the chairs are blown over, it’s windy (if the chairs are out in the yard, it’s really extra windy). If the concrete is hot, it’s a hot day. If it’s slick, it’s icy. You get the idea. I have 100% accuracy, so you’re welcome to text for current weather. I’m more trustworthy than doppler, I’ll tell ya that. Here’s a link to a weather rope on Amazon. Same concept. https://amzn.to/2SDdZLw
So when I stepped outside and the porch was wet, I knew it was raining and I better take my raincoat. After consideration, I decided an umbrella wouldn’t be out of the realm of needed objects, either. I took the one that matches my raincoat. It has pink flowers. We needed some cheer after all this gloomy weather. I set out for my second annual Literary Festival.
Well, it was a deluge out there. Tennessee had become TennesSEA. Poor little Maggie just ain’t got what Patsy did (big, wide tires and 12″ clearance) so I had to be extra cautious. The creeks were most definitely up, and I decided my back road route would not be a wise decision, so I stuck with the highway to my turnoff. I noted that water was up to the road in several spots (higher than I ever remembered seeing it) and I had the vague thought that if it kept on doin’ what it was doin’, the road would flood. But surely it couldn’t rain this hard all day….so I promptly put the warning out of my head and happily continued on my journey. I came to a low spot in the road on the old highway and water a few inches deep was running across it. The car in front of me had no trouble…so monkey see, monkey do. And I thought again, I probably need to come back another way this afternoon. The golf course wasn’t lookin’ too good either….hmmmm. The last time it was this bad (2002), the Co-op’s back 40 flooded from the river and Gary rode out on the wrangler and got pictures of 2′ long catfish and carp swimming in the tile. The time before that was the epic “No Kite From McDonalds Excursion” (1984 or so).
Luckily, the event was housed in a convention center situated on a hill, so if nothing else, it was safe. I quit worrying about rain the moment I stepped inside and was swept away with the growing excitement. I spoke to a few “friends” (that’s punny because they’re OFFICIALLY Friends of the Library System, AND my friends) and went on in to secure my seat at the first seminar. It was a look back at the previous ten years’ festivals. I would have been better off in my second choice, building a platform audience, because everything about this chat made me anxious.
First of all, there’s something you should know about me. In addition to being a fairly anxious person in crowds (I mainly just try to avoid them altogether), I am also paranoid. I like to be on the aisle, near a door. I like to be in the back so I can survey the whole room. I like to get there early, and not be climbing over people to get to my seat–I much prefer to watch them trickle in. I pick a random stranger that looks trustworthy, and I also note those who do not. I have no military background, this is just how I’ve operated my entire adult life. I try to be semi-aware. Plus, I know a lot of people and like to grin and wave and generally act a fool.
Needless to say, when the room started filling up and these two ladies began moving chairs out of the hallway next to where I was seated and lining them up BEHIND me, I started getting a little frantic. People continued to file in. One old man on oxygen came in, poked around, was kinda gruff with the lady in charge, and left. Then he was back with whom I imagine was his son at his elbow. They sat behind me. He coughed. He spat. He hocked. And all in the meantime, his machine puffed away every two seconds. More people. More making room, adding chairs to an already cramped space. I started getting hot. One of my friends waited at the door. I adjusted my stuff from where I’d already moved to accommodate a stranger. Finally, they closed the door and admitted no more. I heaved a sigh of relief, and in doing so got a whiff of the excessively perfumed lady next to me. I felt like I was in an airplane. The chairs were really close, and if someone was just a tinge overweight, their excess spilled onto their neighbor. I was pretty miserable. It was the speaker’s birthday, and he was presented with a cake and song, and finally he got around to his presentation. It was obviously rushed and cut slightly short and I had a hard time concentrating. I was ready to get out of there.
The next seminar was MUCH more enjoyable. Back row again, no heavy breathers or aromatic ladies in my vicinity. I don’t mind perfume- it doesn’t typically bother me, I wear it myself- but when you’re squashed up against somebody it’s a little different. And the room was much larger, so my claustrophobia was put to rest. Anyway, this panel of authors were intriguing, and I bought one of the books they talked about. I can’t necessarily recommend it since I haven’t read it yet, but here’s your link to get an (unsigned) copy: https://amzn.to/2XwSxeR
Next speaker (Terry Roberts) was even better. I wanted to chat with him forever. I felt that he “got it” and was a true dyed-in-the-wool Southerner. Sometimes being born here doesn’t make you Southern. He also reinforced something I have long believed in: “Don’t let facts get in the way of a good story.”
Here’s the book I bought from him. https://amzn.to/2UebNvv I just finished another book on snake handling and religious zealots, so I might wait a minute to start this ‘un. But I AM looking forward to it.
Then it was time for lunch, and it just so happened I ran into one of my best good buddies as soon as I excited the auditorium. We couldn’t have timed it better, I’m telling you. So we staked out our claim at a table festooned with lunches and take home treasures. I took me a big ol’ slug of tea, and come a hair of spitting it out in a very unladylike fashion.
Why did they do that to me? To any of us??? I cussed and went to dumpin’ in three packs of straight sugar. Of course, no matter how much you stir it, it will not dissolve.
Lunch wasn’t fancy, but it was fairly tasty. And I was super excited about the pasta salad, as I had just been craving it. So much so that I had dreamed about it the night previous. I dug in.
Photo credit: The Hiking Fish. I got in too big a hurry….but I did get one of dessert.
We all got one of these. ❤️
And a cool set of gift cards made by the library.
Once everyone was assembled they had a short prayer, which I was so thankful for. The more people try to take God out of public meetings, the more I notice when He’s included. And it makes my heart happy. So we endured a short play (I couldn’t hear it for the most part) and then the Keynote Speaker took the stage. Robert Beatty, author of the Seraphina series set at Biltmore (here https://amzn.to/2EF7yUy) told us all about how he came to be a best selling author. People call him an overnight success, which he finds more than a little amusing, considering he’s been writing since he was a child and had been rejected by several publishing houses in his adult life.
It was during his chat that I found myself really appreciating this festival. The first two guests to ask him questions were children. They were probably around ten years old, but who knows, I’m no good with guessing kids ages. But I thought, “Right there. That right there is why you read to your kids. That’s why the literary festival is important. It brought children to a book event. They were so in love with the books, as a matter of fact, they weren’t bashful about speaking into a microphone in front of 500 people in order to talk to their favorite author. It warmed my heart. Libraries are essential to children and adults alike.
I found Mr. Beatty interesting, but not my level of Southern, and just a wee bit enamored by his oldest daughter. I could only endure so much gushing about how wonderful she was and I had to pee like a rushin’ racehorse as it was, so I gathered my things and excused myself. I also wanted to browse the tables while I wasn’t being pushed on by a crowd from all sides. I burst through the door and ran smack directly into Terry Roberts, the author whom I most liked from all the ones I’d met all morning. He didn’t have anyone to part me from my plastic, but after I took care of my most pressing need, his table was staffed again and he wrote me the most endearing inscription.
He signed his entire signature on the next page
Morbidly fascinating. 
While I waited for the Historical Society table to become manned again, I surfed Facebook. Turns out the county was practically underwater and a whole bunch of roads were closed. Knox County wasn’t faring any better. The drive home was not looking promising. As I began to really think about plans B, C, and D, I looked up into some familiar faces. I hugged Patty and Kent with force, and we caught up on events since the last time I’d seen them at Christmas. I expressed my worries about getting home, seeing as how my two main routes were flooded and the third had a rock slide. My hometown appeared to be an island. They graciously offered me their second residence to stay in if I found myself stranded in Sevierville. I can not tell you how thankful I was for that act of kindness. But another thought came to me. My sweet angel puppy dog, locked in the house. I had to get to him! He’s the only child I have. So I’d just have to get home, one way or another. Ah, I’ll think about that later. I moved on to the Historical Society table to buy a book I’ve been hunting for for the last twenty years or so.
I thought it was called Plantations of Sevier County, so I would have never found it. I was extremely thrilled to get it, less thrilled with the ancient lady selling it to me who was both profoundly and selectively deaf. I didn’t want to go back four generations on who my people were, I didn’t want to talk about who I married, and I didn’t want to join their society at this point in my life. I just wanted to buy the damn book. To get her off my case, I explained that I didn’t have a lot of spare time, between working, writing, and serving on the library board. THAT part she heard, and lit into me about needing space to store archived publications, and I was the one who could see to it that it was done. Sigh. I immediately regretted giving her a thread to pull. Once I finally extricated myself from THAT mess, I started making my way to Bill Landry’s conference room. I bumped into the person I needed to talk to about the library/ Historical Society archive storage, who gave me the backstory. Or, as Paul Harvey would say, “The rest of the story”.
It appeared my other friend had forsaken me, so I sat through Bill Landry’s presentation alone. His Indian heritage is showing heavily in his advanced years, but I’d know him anywhere. That voice is the background noise of my childhood. He brought back so many memories I had to close my eyes.
As he spoke, my phone vibrated incessantly with messages from my momma, absolutely freaking out about the flood. This is what she does. And forwards me two dozen links to read so I, too, can become a nutcase. I stopped opening them and just decided to do the best I could about getting home. That’s all anybody could do. I felt that I was making an informed decision. You don’t really think about being surrounded by water until you need a non-flooded route home and every road that comes to mind is some variation of the following: Middle Creek, Gist Creek, Boyds Creek, Dripping Springs, Rush Branch, Panther Creek, Lyon Springs….you get the idea.
Imagine my surprise to find out my commute home wasn’t even as perilous as my trip out this morning. I was super glad to arrive, regardless. I began to surf Facebook, looking at all the damage already documented within the county. I saw numerous sinkholes, massive flooding, and a guy riding a flamingo down Broadway.
The rain makes us all a little crazy.
Tell people they shouldn’t leave home, and that will ensure every redneck with a lifted 4 wheel drive will be out making pictures.
The Facebook posts had gone from these early in the week:
To a much more serious note:
One of many sinkholes
So, like any Bible thumping Southerner will tell you: don’t ever make plans without following it up with, “Good Lord willing and the creek don’t rise.” Cause one of these days it will again.
Nothing was going as planned. If you know me, you’re probably surprised to learn I even HAVE a plan. I admit, my plan normally never stretches further than what I will be consuming for my three meals that day. But I sometimes will plan vacations months in advance, especially if it’s a new destination. I don’t want to miss anything in the event I can never return, so I like to have all my high points mapped and time allocated to enjoy them. I have enough to plan for in the course of a month between board meetings and bills, I don’t like to have to commit to much in between. I plan to go to bed between 10-11. I plan to get up by 6:30. I plan to stay at work until 4. You know. Plans. Plus all the plans I have for cleaning, writing, reading, watching TV, exercising. When you think about it, you’ve got your whole life planned out in this manner. If you’re married, you plan to see it through, growing old on a porch swing, watching your grandchildren frolic in the evening twilight, catching lightning bugs. Oh wait. I mean tapping on their tablet in front of your 60″ HD Smart TV.
My plans rarely work out. I tend to over schedule myself and then panic halfway through my day when I’ve only accomplished the one thing. Nothing goes accordingly in my love life, my financial state, or my career. But it’s fine. I’ll just plod right on and pretend it’s how I imagined it all along. And not that things are bad, just not how I pictured my life going. By forty you’re supposed to have everything figured out. At least that’s what I thought when I turned thirty and didn’t have it ironed out, then. Back when I was eighteen, thirty seemed a reasonable age to be on firm footing. I guess now I get to back it on up to fifty…but that still seems old. Sigh.
There are a few things you can depend on, I have learned. If you lose your tenuous grip on Faith, you can easily find fervent believers to haul you back to the rock. You can plan on drunks and kids to tell you the truth about your physical appearance. You can plan on bosses lying to you, things costing more than you budgeted for, and food to taste best when you’re craving it. You can count on your dog to love you, no matter what.
Planning seems to set myself up for disappointments. Not because I’m not following through, but because most of the time when things require plans, they also depend on other people and that’s where the problem lies.
I’m not big on the word planned, in general. Too close to premeditated. You get an extended sentence for that one. Also triggers the word pregnancy in my mind, and that’s one I’ve especially never cared for.
Spontaneous is a much better way to go, in my opinion. If you didn’t think of it till the last minute, you have no unreasonable goals or expectations. You’re flying by the seat of your pants. You didn’t know you were going to go to this place, or participate in this activity, so you have no preconceived notions about what’s going to happen. You just met this guy and decide to go out to a baseball game right then and there. You’ve not agonized over a first date for a month, so you don’t have to wonder what he expects you to wear, or act like. I, myself, tend to over analyze so much that failure is all but eminent. I have a standard that I think everyone should adhere to, and when they fall short it diminishes them in my eyes. I probably need to lower my standards to keep my baseline happier, but I’ve never been able to bring myself to that, and at this age, why bother? If that makes me sound old and set in my ways, oh well. Nothing wrong with having high expectations as long as you can live with the deficiency. Someday, somehow, things will fall into place again and I’ll look back and be thankful I held out.
