Protesting at the U.N.

When I was 19 years old, I was part of a group of students  that protested outside the United Nations in NYC.   Yes.   I carried a picket sign in a protest outside the U.N.  That's priceless, isn't it?     It had been years since I thought about that trip.   Then I ran across a few photographs. (And no, the photo above was just for fun.  That was a few years before my time.)

Anyway, there I was at the U.N.   In my very cool - fake leather bomber jacket with fur trim on the collar carrying a sign that said "Christians for Cambodia."  I was a sophomore at Clemson.   I have no memory of the circumstances that led to me going.  Mostly what I remember is that I had never been on a plane in my life, but I dearly wanted the experience.   I'd also never been far outside of S.C., so the thought of flying for the first time AND getting to see New York City was too good to miss.  I signed on!

I never shared that  trip with my girls until just a few years ago - and they looked a little shocked at the visual of their mom picketing at the U.N.  Kate thought it was pretty cool.   I remember Taylor's mouth hung completely open --- as she muttered,  REALLY??!??

To be honest, I had to google  before I sat down to write this blog what was going on in Cambodia at that time - about 1978.    I do remember the jest of the protest.     I don't remember the specifics.   Wikepedia says that it was during that time that the dictator, Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge took over the government in Cambodia - and within a few short years, over one million of that country's people had died of executions, starvation and disease.  That's likely what our protesting was about.   Injustice in Cambodia.

You know.  It's interesting the direction our lives take.  I can look back now and see a pattern of dots connecting through the years.   Maybe even starting with that trip.      At nineteen, I had a terribly low self esteem. I was painfully shy.    I think I decided to go on the trip because it would force me to do something I would ordinarily never do.   It would force me to become something I wasn't.   I wasn't self assured.  I wasn't strong.   I wasn't brave or daring  -- but the idea of flying to NYC and protesting at the UN sounded like the kind of thing I wanted to "be."

I liked the idea of it -- and felt if I stepped into that experience it would somehow make me into a different person.   I think it worked a little bit.   That was one of my first encounters with intentionally taking a step to do something "uncomfortable."   We avoid that very often, you know!  Doing anything that causes us to feel uneasy.   But, you know what I discovered?    It did not kill me!   Amazing!    I did something "uncomfortable" and it did something quite the opposite.    I grew stronger.

I have a young friend, Melissa Norris, who shared this good word recently.

I agree.

Losing My Childhood Home

I learned Thursday that the house I grew up in was struck by lightening during an early morning storm - and burned to the ground.

It's just beginning to sink in with me. It's a powerful attachment.   The house I call "home."

My mom and dad built that house in 1970.     I was 12 years old.      Until that year, our family moved around a lot.   My dad was just starting his own business.    We didn't have a lot of money - and my only experience with "home" was the rental houses I shared with my parents and three brothers.

Building that house in 1970 was a big deal for my family.   We were finally putting down roots - and it felt really good.    We were moving "back home" - closer to family.     Closer to my grandparents.   Closer to all my cousins and friends at church.    At the foot of Ceasar's Head Mountain and minutes from Table Rock.    It was a great place to grow up.

It's strange what you remember about the house you grow up in.     I remember the sinks! For the very first time, I had my own bathroom -- with a cool brown sink.    There were double avocado green sinks in the kitchen, a bright red sink in the boy's bathroom and a lovely blue sink in my parent's bathroom.   Wow!  Sink memories!

My dad installed the mantel over our fireplace upside down - and never changed it.  The smooth side faced down and the uneven - rough side faced up.  When my mom put candles or decorations out during holidays, they never sat level.    My mom had a sewing room, but all of our meals were shared in the kitchen around a table she's still managed to hang on to all these years later.   We had classic 70's "wagon wheel" light fixtures hanging in the family room and classic green shag carpet.

That family room is where I had prom and high school graduation pictures taken.   It's where I beat my brothers leg wrestling, opened Christmas presents and watched hours of Miami Dolphin football.  Over the years in that house, I baked cakes with my cousin, Karen,  took long walks with my best friend, Myra and dreamed about what my life would be like when I got older.   I listened to the Carpenters and John Denver in that house - and a very young Michael Jackson.    And yes, even though it's tragically similar to Miranda Lambert's song,  my favorite dog is buried in the yard there too.   His name carved into an old tree stump.   Sweet, Jake.

In the driveway of that house, I had many a good night kiss with this young kid from Dacusville, who drove his mama's Cadillac when he came to take me out.   I loaded down my car and left for college in that driveway - striking out on my own for the first time.    Family and friends showered me and Scott with bird seed in the driveway of that house as we left our wedding reception to start our life together.

Lots of happy memories.    And, to be real.    Some very sad ones too.    That's just living.


I've been reminded of a very important truth over the last few days.     Nothing in this life lasts forever.   While I want to live out my life loving and caring for people, especially my family - and while I want to live out my purpose in this world - the purpose God has called me to do, it's best to keep a very "light" hold on this world.   We are just passing through.

"For this world is not our permanent home, we are looking forward to a home yet to come."   Hebrews 13:14.

Handwritten...

It's become nearly obsolete.    Sending handwritten notes & letters.

I have this box in the top of my closet - completely full of handwritten notes and letters that Scott & I exchanged throughout our courtship -- from high school to college and then after.   Tons of them.   Those days in our relationship would be completely lost to me now, without the letters.  

Some were notes passed in the hallways of our high school.   Others were mailed back and forth at college, when I was at USC and he was at Clemson.  

We still write letters and notes to each other.   He's left me handwritten letters in my suitcase, when I've flown to the other side of the world without him.     He's left me notes by the coffee maker so I'll see it first thing in the morning.    We almost never buy birthday cards or anniversary cards, we write letters instead.

What a wonderful  momenta of our relationship.

With texting and facebook messaging,  handwritten notes are becoming a thing of the past with couples.     Years from now, many couples won't have the benefit of pulling out a stack of old letters to read.   The texts will be long since deleted.    The messaging may be the same -- long since gone.

I don't know about you, but a handwritten thank you always means the most - especially if the writer puts some thought into the message - not just thanking you, but really making you feel that your gift was enjoyed and appreciated.   When I get a really good one - I hang onto it.    It goes in the basket beside my chair in the living room.  I even pull those out from time to time and enjoy reading them a time or two more.

I don't remember who gave me the idea, but someone encouraged me once to write a handwritten letter telling the people closest to me what they meant to me.    I remember sending my mom that kind of letter once.   I don't remember what I said, but I'll never forget her reaction.    It meant a lot to her.

On Scott's 50th birthday, I took the idea a step further.    He's the kind of man that often underestimates the good he's done in his life or the impact he's made in this world.  I think there's something about turning 50 that causes all of us to re-evaluate and question where we are in life and what we've accomplished.   In advance of his 50th birthday,  I invited friends and family to secretly mail  handwritten notes or letters so that I could collect them and give them to Scott on his birthday.     He was overcome.

He cried over the letters and read each one.   Even since then, I'll pull out the box of letters again when he's had a tough day -  and he enjoyed them all over again.

Handwritten notes.    I want to keep writing them and receiving them.   Life moves on, but the letters allow us to hold on to people and experiences a little longer.      I like that.

Wow! I'm 53 today!

I have a special friend that well into her 90's now.    Ruth.  She moved away from Greenwood to live near her daughter several years ago, but I call her every year on her birthday.    I remember her telling me once that she looked at herself in the mirror sometimes and couldn't believe how old she was.   Then she would throw her head back and laugh - as she often did.

I'll never forget her telling me "....I still feel like 16 on the inside.   I don't feel any different at all!.."   I've never forgotten that.

Today I turn 53.


I'll attest to what Ruth said.  It's going by fast!  

This morning in the study notes of my Bible in the book of James, I read:

"...life is short no matter how many years we live.  don't be deceived into thinking that you have  lots of remaining time to live for Christ, to enjoy your loved ones, or to do what you know you should.   Live for God today.  Then....no matter when your life ends, you will have fulfilled His plan for you..."

I'm taking that as a word on my birthday.

This year, I want to take more chances for Him, live with less fear and be willing to be uncomfortable for Him.   I want to open my heart wider to people and love more freely through Him.   I don't want to miss a single opportunity He has for me.   A single experience He has for me.    If I'm blessed to see July 7, 2013, I hope I can look back at this next year and say......you did the thing!    You lived each day.   You loved.   You were willing to forgive.   You lived with courage and showed kindness.     You took chances.     You made a difference.   That's what I want to be able to say.

"Happy Birthday, to me."

Well....it's done....she's married!

Well.....it is done.      Kate & Josh got married Saturday, pulled out of our driveway at the end of the reception and flew off to Washington State to enjoy a week in Seattle and Mt. Rainier.  

I had no idea what an emotional experience it would be to see this beautiful child of mine - my first born child - that I've loved and cared for and invested in for so many years -- marry and leave my driveway that evening.

Whew!  It was rough.  Now..... I know.   I'm not the first mom that's had a daughter get married.   I know that.   But, I'm telling you.    It was a surreal day.  I tried my best to stay in the moment and soak it all in - but it was like I had an out of body experience all day.   I was watching it all unfold, but it was just all so surreal.

Man oh man.    Unprepared for the emotion of the day.     It was sweet and tender from start to finish.   I've known since the first time I laid eyes on Josh Deese that he would be my son-in-law.    I didn't tell Kate that, of course, until a year or so later.   But I knew it.    As we've spent time with him and gotten to know him better, we've all grown to love him.   But on that day - I tell you what.   He captured my heart.

But......Kate.    There in the driveway, just before she left.    Whew!   My girl.    In that one moment, every image of that child growing up flashed before my eyes - and I grabbed hold of her for dear life before she pulled out of my driveway- - and had me an ugly cry -- the kind you'd really rather not share with anybody else.

And then....a moment later, she was gone.

Post wedding, Scott & Taylor have been processing this in their own way too.

The day after the wedding, Taylor sat on the sofa for about 18 hours straight.   Come to think of it, I don't think she moved all day -- watching one depressing movie after another!     (That's pretty funny now that I think about it!)    She doesn't show her feelings easily -- (and she doesn't read my blog either, so I can say that and get away with it :)   ---so the depressing movies was her way of processing her sister being married off.

Scott.    He's still working through his feelings and emotions.   If you know Scott, you know that's to be expected.   He's a tender one.

What a time of life this is - sweet and tender and changing.

Wedding Week Panic!

My friend, Denine, would say - "I told you so."

Several months ago over lunch, I listened as she was clearly stressing about her daughter's upcoming plans to hold her wedding ceremony and reception in her backyard.    I remember doling out advise to:

- stop stressing
- relax & enjoy the process
- don't worry about it, it'll be fine

The same well meaning advise is being doled out on me now.    And I finally understand.   Denine was so RIGHT!     For the last stretch of months, whenever something about the wedding would come up, I would say all the right things -- all the things I really wanted to feel:

- there's no sense in getting worked up.
- why do mothers of the bride want to stress everybody out?
- it's a shame to get stressed out during such an important time in your life.
- that won't be true for us.
- i'm going to relax and enjoy myself!

HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Last night at midnight, I woke up in full blown panic attack mode.    Running through my mind was the unending TO DO list for this last week!    Plus, I haven't balanced my check book in about a month - what if we're over budget?  what if it rains?  what if we run out of food?   what if those corn hole bags don't get finished?  what if that guy won't let us borrow his '56 Ford truck?   how will I get it all done?

Denine was so RIGHT!

I was an idiot for trying to calm her down.

Breathe.     Breathe.    Breathe.

Last night as my anxiety level went through the roof, I started telling myself to breathe.

Whewwwwwwww.   Deep breath!

And I started to pray.     Lord, please put this long list of things in order for me.     Please give me the ability to accomplish what needs to be accomplished.    Lord, please calm me down.    Please give me peace.    Please give me peace.   Please give me peace.

And, this morning.      He had.    He's so faithful.    I had a cup of coffee out in my yard.    It felt wonderful.      I looked up at the sky.   At the clear day.    And I thanked Him for calm.    I thanked Him for peace.   I thanked Him for the week off from work so I could focus entirely on finishing up my list.

It's true.     The mama sets the tone of the whole house.     This mama needs to stay in the word this week and stay in prayer for peace.

And as people tell me this week to "enjoy the week"   "don't get stressed out"    "take it all in"  --- I'm going to look at them and receive it with the same grace that Denine showed me that day over lunch.

Breathing deeply all the while.    (Smile)

Completely Out of Hand

Have you ever had something get completely out of hand?

This would be my butterfly bush.    Several months ago, I planted this foot high butterfly bush in what I thought would be the perfect location in my back yard.   A sunny spot.    Close enough to the house to enjoy.   Ideal.

There's just one detail.

I failed to read the little tag that was conspicuously attached to it.   The one that said it grows 12' high and gets to be about 5' wide.   Yeah.    I didn't read that part.    Details.

So my little butterfly bush has grown quite a bit.   In fact, it now dwarfs my favorite part of the backyard.....my bottle tree.    Can you see the bottles behind all the limbs?    Yeah.   That would be my once "garden centerpiece."    Now dominated by the butterfly bush.

I considered trimming it back before our backyard wedding reception in 16 days.    I've threatened to do that for weeks.......but I haven't been able to bring myself to do it.   This has caused me to delay.

It's beautiful, isn't it?      My butterfly bush is absolutely covered in these purple blooms right now.

And I noticed something else about my butterfly bush.     That bush is being USED.

Used by butterflies.
Used by bumble bees.
Used by granddaddy long legs.
Used by hummingbirds.
Used by assorted bugs & critters.

Over the last few weeks, I've seen all of those things USING the butterfly bush.   Here's a few shots I captured this afternoon while watching just 10 minutes with my camera.

The more I watched my butterfly bush, the more struck I became with how many "different" ways it was being USED.

And, I'm sorry.   I'm a simple woman.   What can I say?    This butterfly bush made me think about my own life.      God is using the heck out of this butterfly bush to care for and provide food and shelter for His bugs & critters.  How USEFUL is He finding me?

Good question.

I'm thinking about that.

And in the meantime, I spotted one more critter enjoying the bush.

My 14 year old cat, Jasper.    He enjoys a snooze there in the shade of it's limbs many afternoons a week.  Another use!   Shade.    Yeah.  I'll wait another week or two to trim it back.     Until then, it'll continue to be completely out of hand.......and incredibly USEFUL.

I like that.