Freeze Frame

Children, Motherhood, Uncategorized
Ivy, Abbie, Tybee

Ivy, Abbie, Tybee

Thinking back to the sweet days of a skinny, silly, long legged girl, her cool grown-up cousin named Heather and Austin, a cousin with a cute friend named Alex…the days of a trip to Tybee for my birthday…family and us, my sister and I navigating the growing up of our babies.

Okay, so Austin’s a Senior, Heather’s a second year teacher and grad school student and pretty little Ivy Grace begins high school. Hayes is handsome now, young-mannish looking. How on earth has this caught me by surprise?

If it were possible to slow lifedown a bit…revisit a frame frozen…I’d take us back to Tybee for my 50th…randomness and silly joy on the beach as Ivy flitted about, legs “pony-esque” as we bathed in the sun dodging birds and darting to and fro in the sand!  Austin and his friend looking all handsome for the girls, while Heather languished in the sun…and Ivy, and me laughing with silly joy, simply infectious joy!

Oh, the beautiful presence of a not quite young woman who is still okay with cuddling up next to a beagle and hangin’ out with crazy Aunt Lisa!

Love me some Ivy Grace and homesick for Georgia. Home soon to bemoan the growing up of our children with my sister, Cindy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fisherman and Carpenter

Faith, Uncategorized
Dan Dan

Dan Dan

My grandfather, “Dan Dan”, was a fisherman and a carpenter. He wore overalls; but, he only buckled one strap. His pants were crooked and I always sort of turned my head sideways to line up with his slant. He had a sideways smile that we now refer to as his “go to Hell” smile. He liked a cigar balanced on this lip and had a penchant for going off into the woods as my grandma yelled at him to get back on time.

He fished more than he worked wood. A big catch meant cleaning with all of the cousins watching as he cursed at us in a fun not scary kinda way, then looked up and smiled that rascal smile and watched us scatter as he randomly tossed fish guts to shoo us off.

Most everyone loved him just to experience his swagger and his stories…dogs and children too, they followed Him. He was a fisherman and a carpenter. Maybe that’s why.

Lover of people. Truth teller without judgement.

My grandfather is sort of legendary.

Time for Cake

Children, Faith, Motherhood, Uncategorized
Cooking skipped a generation in our family...Heather is a lover of all things cooking. Here's me with key Line Pie!

Cooking skipped a generation in our family…Heather is a lover of all things cooking. Here’s me with a birthday Key Lime Pie!

My mama baked cakes for ladies in the community who either couldn’t or didn’t want to. She always said “Nothing you cook will turn out right if you don’t love cookin.” Good cooks like to cook. Mama was better than a good cook, she was a joyous cook!

 She took orders and women came rushing in the back door every weekend to be rescued by mama’s culinary talents!  They’d  pay her 20 or 30 dollars a cake. Red velvet, teeny tiny chocolate layered cakes, her famous pound (of butter) cake, caramel cake…on and on. But, for me, she made coconut cake, on my birthday.

Lately, I can’t stop thinking about that coconut cake. Fluffy, creamy rich and buttery… coconut cake worthy of enjoying every little crumb by pressing your fork into the saucer to gather the sweetness of the yellowy, creamy cake mixed with coconut tendrils….then slowly cleaning the fork with your tongue. Yes, it was that good and yes, I can almost taste it!

By the way, mama was not a homemaker. In case you envisioned a sweet country woman in a pretty floral apron..not the case.  Mama had a successful, demanding career. Cooking was not her career, it was her joy, and ours!

Hoping for a heavenly slice of coconut cake soon, Send it my way mama!  I miss you and your love.   Maybe Heather’ll make me a pie!

Simply Stated

Faith, Prayer, rest, Trust, Uncategorized

 

 

Years ago, a friend of mine was challenged, actually terrified, that they may be called upon to pray. I remember saying, “Just talk to God…it’s just a conversation”. I also remember the first time I heard him pray. It was beautiful and it was sincere.

Praise God, he does not discern eloquence and proper use of words when we pray! I believe it’s quite the opposite, in fact, it’s simply the “come as you are” philosophy that is the basis or all of the mercies and graces of our Lord, Jesus Christ.

I love the timeliness and honesty of the prayers from the book of Psalms. The prayers of David cover all the bases, from beautiful adoration to questioning and pleading for answers. In Psalm 34, David begins with a reminder to pray at all times and continues by telling us about the freedom from fear, We are reminded of the joy that comes from trusting God as well as the assurance of every good thing!
Still, we are prone as humans to make prayer a chore, a task, something we feel demands perfection.

We had a family vacation last week with many things planned and lots of people to please. Sometimes vacation can be a getaway that ends up causing us to need a return to routine just to rest. But, I chose a quiet place, it was different and beautiful…a setting surrounded by old oaks dripping with moss and an ocean inlet just steps away from the house. Yet, I still felt disconnected because I wasn’t able to do my set devotion time…the house was noisy.
One evening I found quiet time and sat staring out at the water. Not a sound but the tide and the wind causing the trees to sway. I closed my eyes and began a prayer that had a natural flow from my thoughts about each of my family members, their current places in life and my hopes for them. It was a beautiful time of grace and solitude. It was not my “set” devotion time nor was it a prayer before sleeping. It was a peaceful and reverent acknowledgement of God’s presence. It was an opportunity to turn my thoughts towards God and to know he listens.

Isn’t that what prayer is, simply the acknowledgement of his almighty sovereignty in a way that honors Him? I sat for a while eyes closed, listening, resting, trusting, waiting; and then opened my eyes to my surroundings and felt renewed, connected, and grateful.
A week later, I am still reflecting on the prayer on the porch. As I share this prayerful encounter with you as readers, I am still deeply moved by the presence of the Lord as the listener of my quiet unplanned ramblings. My sharing of my needs, my gratitude, my recalling of times he rescued me, and my requests for continued grace and mercy. Yes, all of that was included in that prayer…because all of that was in my heart.

This is His desire. Our hearts opened wide and emptied welcoming Jesus into the day to day of our lives. To me, this is prayer, simply stated.
Come and listen, all of you who fear God, and I will tell you what He did for me. For I cried out to Him for help, praising Him as I spoke. If I had not confessed the sin in my heart, my Lord would not have listened. But God did listen! He paid attention to my prayer. Psalm 66:16-19

Rainy day thoughts on baseball

Children, Faith, Motherhood, Prayer, Trust, Uncategorized
The hands we held

The hands we held

 

Up at 6:00 a.m. to be an hour and 15 minutes early for an 8:00 game, I am sitting watching rain plop onto my windshield as the coaches discuss the weather. Players, one by one, decide to get out of cars and look at the field. I gaze out at the backs of young men and grown men as they continue to “examine the field” and discuss Lord knows what as they wait to decide…try to “get it in”or leave.

I glance over at my friend, sitting in her car, she and her son…watching as are we as the men watch the rain fall. My son joins the group…so her son follows along. I join her in the passenger seat and together we watch the men watch the rain….oh, the glorious life of a baseball mom!

Minutes later, the young men walk towards us in small groups of two or three. We both wait…we’ll go with flow. We go home or we go back to hotel or we play tomorrow or we come back later.

We’ll be ok with whatever the choice because we’re here, we are doing our part on this journey to our son’s dream…to have baseball be a part of college.

So, decision was made. Game cancelled, we play at 3. It’s likely to be raining then. My friend is a realist. She told me it will be raining there.

No matter, though. We’ll be there an hour 15 minutes before the game. That’s how we roll! 🙂

Back in hotel room…changed into yoga pants enjoying chick fila breakfast in bed and watching ESPN Sports Center (again) I am strangely content, nevertheless hopeful.

Because I have learned and for some wonderfully unknown reason, I am focused on the good of this crazy, expensive, inconvenient, off schedule rainy delayed weekend. The good, cherished time with my son and my friend.

Thanks to my baseball mom friends, here a few bits of advice and reminders:

  1. Moms, we gotta learn to go to sleep when they’re out at night. Start trying now.
  2. Moms, it’s weird for them to be in a hotel room with us…know this and find someplace to go for a few minutes or at least be okay with them going into Pandora zone.
  3. Moms, do NOT visit your son at the dugout…not even the fence.
  4. Moms, try hard not to do anything old lady, crazy, scatter brained or “cool”. You will be the source of entertainment in the dugout.
  5. Moms, try hard not to fix a bad mood after a bad game.
  6. Moms, if we don’t understand why men stare at a rain drenched field for half an hour…doesn’t it make sense that quite possibly we might never understand lots of this baseball journey/process to the path to college play?

FINALLY, Moms…pray about everything. TRUST THE PROCESS…this recruiting thing…especially where God will place your son, which field, campus and coach.

it’s his future, not yours.  Our children are not our puppets.

The hands we held…we release.  The hand we held will be held by God.

P.S.  As I blog, Austin naps…My 6’5″ young man who used to hold my hand.

 

Spreading love

Faith, Motherhood, Uncategorized

IMG_3084567962649

Last week I was hugged by a beautiful, fragile little black lady. She was dressed in a pale green pant suit with a beautiful pin shaped like a daisy on her lapel next to her Holiday Inn name tag. I met her our last day in Atlanta for a crazy, hectic stressful baseball trip. I needed Frosted Flakes.

All the buffet had were mini wheats and bran.

She saw me standing in the middle of the hurried baseball parent crowd and walked over asking, “What in the world is it you need, pretty mama?”

I smiled.

How could I not smile, this angel with a jubilant smile, tilted towards me, hair pulled into a perfect bun? I said, “I wondered if there is more cereal in the back, Frosted Flakes or Fruit Loops.”

She smiled, turned confidently on her heels and said  “I’ll be right back!” She came back with Frosted Flakes, three boxes, and said, “Now you go and have a good day.”

I lingered there, in front of her joyous face, then hugged her and said “I love you.” She smiled back, really big…and said. “You be blessed.”  “Thanks.” I said, walking towards the elevator, glancing back to see her watching me go as she whispered, “Keep spreading that love.”

Kindness of kind hearted souls

Grace and love without reservation

Entertained by and entertaining angels…Love.

 

teachers everywhere

Children, Faith, Motherhood, Teaching, Uncategorized
Wisdom

Wisdom

So, Atlanta has been interesting…pitched a good game, not a perfect game. A good game with a smile on his face and a confident gum chewing demeanor. How moms measure good is a stark contrast to sons .

Good gameto moms is more strike outs than walks; more outs than hits, more aggressive throws overs to first to get the runner and more shoulders back, head high, swagger and stride in the trot back to the dugout.

We watch for these good things. Good to moms is decidedly different than to a handsome young man, your son, the pitcher who throws a pitch that’s propelled over the fence. Not good moms…that’s bad.

Good is not the loss, regardless of the circumstances or contributing factors aka errors…loss is not good. A win is the only good. How on earth is a mom to respond? Well, the response is no response. Not natural, I know!

Time will pass with no need for what we perceive as encouragement that is really just a futile effort to make “it all better” like the skinned knee or the failed test or even the broken heart…even that we can buffer. But, pitching… moms, we just can’t fix.

So we sit and we anticipate calls. We gauge our son’s posture, smile, his movements and we watch, we spectate, we support. That is all. That is enough.

Count your blessings if you have coaches who are just the right combination of wisdom, boyish rambunctious, and hindsight… This means they remember being where your son is and they teach, they guide, they remind and most importantly they point upwards to God when challenged with “Why?”

Teachers everywhere…

Your ears will hear a voice behind you saying, This is the way, walk in it.  Isaiah 30:21