Tuesday, September 6, 2011

Adventures are for Somewhere BESIDES Auburn


Steve and I had a great trip to Auburn this past weekend, but we messed up one big time. That was in our restaurant choice for dinner on Friday night. We were trying to "be good" and stick to the low-carb diet we've been on, so when we saw a bright, shiny, new place with Diner in the title, we thought, "It's bound to have meat, vegetables and salad, so why not try it?" Big mistake. Huge. The service was lackluster, and the food tasted bad, really bad and was overpriced to boot. When we left, I sent a text message to the kids spelling out our tale of woe. Matt quickly responded with a text of his own: "Who goes to a diner in Auburn???" The clear implication was that he wouldn't be caught dead there. His choices -- and what should have been our choices -- would be Chuck's BarBQue, Guthrie's, Cheeburger/Cheeburger, or Niffer's. He wouldn't be looking for healthy, home-cooking. He'd be wanting to feel like a college student again. Laura's text said: "Why would you go anywhere besides Cheeburger or Guthrie's?" When I told her that we decided to be a little bit adventurous, her reply was classic -- "You don't go to Auburn for what's different. You go because of what is the SAME! War Eagle!"

See why I love my children so much? They are such delightful people, and they were exactly right. Why do the old grads like Steve and me make pilgrimages back to the Loveliest Village on the Plains? Because of what's the SAME. The traditions!

We learned our lesson the hard way and spent the rest of the weekend reminiscing and enjoying the tried and true.

The top picture shows the back of my latest t-shirt purchase. Notice that "rolling the trees on Toomer's Corner" is featured because their fate has been so much apart of the news since last winter. In the next picture, you can see for yourself how the trees at Toomer's Corner are faring. Look closely at the tops, and you'll see some sick-looking yellow and brownish leaves, especially when you compare their color to the trees behind them. It's sad that this particular tradition may not survive much longer.
I always enjoy walking past Langdon Hall, the site of my Senior Piano Recital given in December of 1971. I started my college journey at Samford, studying with my much-beloved teacher Dr. Betty Sue Shepherd. But, I gave that up to marry Steve and ended up here. I'd do it all over again, dear Steve.
This is Gargis Hall where many of my music classes were held. It was old then, so it's REALLY old now. :) Stately architecture, though, don't you think? And there's a glimpse of Samford Hall's iconic clock tower in the distance.
Here Steve and I are headed to the game, and you can see Jordan-Hare Stadium in the background and Haley Center. I hear that they're planning to tear down the Haley Center. I guess that piece of landscape will change soon -- hopefully for the better.
Here is Aubie -- award-winning mascot -- entering the stadium before game time. Right before kick-off, he came onto the field carrying the crystal football, symbol of Auburn's 2010 National Championship. Definitely a "goose-bump moment."
With 30 seconds left in the game, the score was 42-38 and thankfully, it stayed that way to the end. It was another day of chanting the cheers, singing the fight song, and pulling for the Tigers.
This is not the place to color outside the lines. We'll stick more closely to what we know and love next time -- hopefully in the not-too-distant future. War Eagle, everybody!

Monday, September 5, 2011

Receiving Acts of Kindness

Last Saturday was a scorcher of a day on the campus of Auburn University. The first game of the 2011 season, and the first game since Auburn won the National Championship over Oregon last January. Steve and I, along with 76,000+ loyal fans, made the trip to see the Tigers add yet another win to the nation's current longest winning streak.

I knew it was going to be a good day when we walked into Cracker Barrel for breakfast and a young, 20-something young man wanted to know where I had gotten my shirt -- a sure sign that I had chosen a good one the previous day when we were in our favorite campus bookstores.

Later, when we were standing in the crowd waiting for Tiger Walk, a nice man who was at a security tent beside the gate brought over a sturdy metal chair and asked if I wanted to stand in it to get a better view of the coaches and players about to enter the stadium. What a treat!!!! It almost made being a "fluffy senior citizen" worth it. Bless his heart.

Steve and I thought we were being smart and careful about surviving 4 hours in a sweltering stadium. We applied thick layers of sunscreen, we had on comfortable shoes, and light-weight clothes, and I had a big floppy hat to cover my neck, ears and thin hair. We were lucky enough to have found tickets where the sun was to our backs, and Tropical Depression Lee, coming up from the Gulf, provided a very pleasant breeze. We went in with large, ice-filled Diet Cokes and thought we'd be "set." Happily, the folks around us were fun-loving and NOT drinking -- a definite plus for a morning game.

The game was tense and disappointing. For 57 1/2 minutes, the Tigers looked mediocre at best. Then, with 2:07 left they scored 14 points to win the game by 4 points. Definitely, a thriller. We were so glad we stayed until the final buzzer. The end to a great day, right? Just walk to the car, turn on the air conditioner, get something cool to drink, and head home. It should have been so simple.

However, about the time we got out of the main flow of people leaving the stadium, I knew I was in trouble. The best way to describe it is that I just started fading away. I was sinking into a semi-conscious hole of some kind. I would take a few steps and then stop to sit down or put my head down, take a few more steps, try to "get a grip" and then go again. It wasn't long before I was incapable of going another step -- very frightening with the car parked blocks and blocks away.

Random acts of kindness started popping up from everywhere. Two guys stopped and offered to use their Smartphones to find the number of a taxi service. (Steve called but the taxi couldn't get very close because of the flow of traffic implemented by the campus police). One lady stopped to give us her fan (shown in the picture above). Who would think that a funeral-home-type fan would become such a symbol of kindness? Steve approached some nearby tailgaters, and they quickly brought ice water, some Sprite, orange juice, and even generously offered my teetotalling husband "a cold beer." Don't worry. He graciously declined the beer but gratefully accepted the other beverages.

I couldn't open my eyes. All around my mouth I could taste salt, and my skin was grainy. Steve described me as having "a funny color." (Glad I didn't look in a mirror.) The seemingly insurmountable dilemma Steve had was how to get me back to our car. At that moment -- completely through the loving provision of our Heavenly Father -- an ambulance came down the street where we were, obviously looking for anyone needing help. Steve flagged them down, and the paramedics jumped out and started assessing my situation. Amazingly, my vital signs were good, but severe dehydration was determined to be the culprit. Those three ANGELS got permission from their boss and carried us in their ambulance to within 2 steps of our car. They even buckled me into my seat belt!!!! They treated me with such kindness and respect. I will likely never know their names, but I DO know that God used them as vehicles of His protection and blessing in my life last Saturday afternoon.

If anyone reading this has any connection to the emergency personnel that were on duty last weekend in Auburn, PLEASE express my sincere thanks and appreciation for their work and tell them how much it meant to Steve and to me.

Within an hour or two of sitting with the air conditioner blowing full blast in my face and my dear Hero Husband forcing me to drink lots and lots of water, I started to come back to life. We definitely learned the "importance of staying hydrated" and will be much more deliberate when faced with a similar scenario again.

I have to say it. This day made me even prouder of being a member of the Auburn Family. Win, lose, or draw, I'm "ALL IN!"

Matthew 10:42 (Jesus said) "And whoever in the name of a disciple gives to one of these little ones EVEN A CUP OF COLD WATER to drink, truly I say to you he shall not lose his reward."


Monday, August 22, 2011

The Passing of Steve's Mom

From looking at the children's sizes/ages, I would guess that this picture was made on Easter Sunday in 1982 or 1983. It was always our habit to keep the kids dressed up after church until we could drive from Hartselle to Grannie and Granddaddy's house on 8th Ave. in Decatur and make some pictures. Then, we'd change clothes, enjoy Grannie's much-anticipated lunch, and Granddaddy would hide Easter eggs for the kids over and over again.

Steve's dad, Elton Pearson, died at the age of 73 in a boating accident while fishing in the Tennessee River -- his very favorite past-time -- on October 30, 1997. His mom, Mary Nell Pearson, died at the age of 86 in Baptist East Hospital in Montgomery on July 27, 2011, from complications due to congestive heart failure.

2011 was a miserable year for Grannie. She fractured a vertebra in her back on two separate occasions, both causing intense pain and requiring surgical procedures. She was also hospitalized with bronchitis and heart/anxiety issues on several occasions. In less than seven months, she went from a 2-bedroom independent living apartment to 1 room in an assisted living place then to a nursing home/rehabilitation facility. She was tired of fighting pain and illness and was ready to die, in both a physical sense and a spiritual one.

Her five grandchildren conducted the funeral service. They all shared favorite memories of their Grannie. Jon David gave the eulogy, Jenny and Julie shared Scripture passages, Laura played the piano, and Matt gave the message. I can't imagine anything that would have pleased her more. Although they witnessed some of Grannie's suffering and unhappiness in her final years, they had much to share about the Grannie that was so much a part of their growing years.

As her obituary stated, Mrs. Pearson was very smart -- making a 4.0 in Medical Records at Calhoun AFTER her boys had graduated from Auburn. Mrs. Pearson was a phenomenal cook -- as anyone who ever tasted her food could attest. And, she was a devoted student of the Bible, having taken part in many Community Bible Study series, as well as Kay Arthur and David Jeremiah studies.

But, her grandchildren remembered other things. One year she made life-size stuffed tigers for the boys and life-size stuffed dolls for the girls for Christmas. She must have worked for months and months on those and had to hide the evidence every time we went to visit. :) Jon David mentioned a great cake she made for his birthday. It was in the shape of a flower pot, complete with dirt (Oreo crumbs) and gummy worms. When we were planning the menu for Matt's rehearsal dinner when he was getting married, he requested Grannie's chocolate pie to be the dessert. So, she made 10 of them for the occasion.

We laughed remembering that she was visiting us at Cedar Cove one time and was using a walker because of a broken ankle. We were out in the front yard looking at the pond, and someone noticed a snake in the grass. The next thing we knew, Grannie was up on the porch, and her walker was still in the yard. :) We teased her unmercifully about that.

Steve remembers coming home from school on a Halloween afternoon crying because he had forgotten that his Boy Scout troop was having a costume contest. Grannie quickly put her creative talents to work and whipped up a scarecrow outfit for him. He ended up winning First Place!!!

Grannie made the tenderest pot roast I've even eaten, but that is such a small thing in comparison to the job she did of raising a wonderful son who became my husband. I will always be grateful to her for that.

I had never been in the room when someone took their last breath until a few weeks ago. In God's providence, Steve and I were in Montgomery when Grannie died. We knew she probably had only a few months to perhaps a year left to live, but we weren't expecting the end to come on that day. Nevertheless, God arranged for us to be there. Steve was holding her hand as her breaths became shallower and farther apart. Her eyes fluttered open in the last minutes. I couldn't help but wonder if she might already be glimpsing heaven. The end was very peaceful and quiet.

I thank God for her life and her legacy.

Proverbs 31:28-31 "Her children rise up and bless her; her husband also, and he praises her, saying: 'Many daughters have done nobly, but you excel them all.' Charm is deceitful and beauty is vain, but a woman who fears the Lord, she shall be praised. Give her the product of her hands, and let her works praise her in the gates."

A Clumsy Cast Can Still Produce a Great Catch

Look at this face of a very happy man. If Steve can't be hugging on grand kids, then at least put him in a boat on a sunny summer day when the willow flies are out, and watch the contentment glow out of him. On this particular day, he was in the boat WITH 5 grand kids. Supreme happiness in his book. :)
My husband has many amazing skills, some well-known, some not-so-well-known. Most people know that he's a good veterinarian. He has a great sense about what is wrong with an animal and knows how to use diagnostic tools to get answers. But, I think his clients appreciate him even more for his consistent integrity and honesty in dealing with them and their pets.

Some more personal skills are his thinking/reasoning/dispensing of wisdom to his children and to me. And, one of his talents that I get to enjoy most is his ability to cook a great breakfast.

Over this past weekend, though, I was able to observe (again) two of his great abilities that are like viewing great works of art when you see him in action. One was on Sunday morning when he was teaching a Bible lesson to our Sunday School class. It is awesome to watch and experience a person who is so obviously caught up in using their spiritual gift. His smooth delivery, his style, his knowledge (produced from study and insight), and his approachability are all apparent when he's in his element. I love seeing him AND hearing him teach.

The other great skill that I observed was on a recent late afternoon fishing trip when I decided to join him. Sadly, I don't do this often enough. I figure that's "his thing," and I'll just stay home and do "my thing." I'm so glad I went this time. Watching him cast his rod with uncanny accuracy is really a thing of beauty -- meant in the most masculine terms, of course. It shouldn't be a surprise. After all, he's been honing this skill for well over 50 years, but still I love to watch the expert at work. He knows how to place each lure in precisely the best spot for attracting that unsuspecting bass.

He handed me a rod and reel that he said was simple enough, "even the grandchildren used it during Cousins Camp," and gave me a few, hurried instructions. My casts were clumsy, jerky, short, inaccurate. But, hey, I got my bait in the water and felt several definite nibbles.
As you might expect, that led me to a spiritual correlation. So often, my witnessing attempts are like those casts. I don't always use the "right words." I seldom follow the methods or scripts that I've been taught. I just try to be faithful to "get my bait in the water" and trust the Holy Spirit to produce a great catch. I'm never going to catch a fish by staying home, now am I? I need to spend more time out where the fish are and continue to learn the best baits to use for certain fish and the right casting motions to use to get my bait in front of the hungry fish. My witnessing and my fishing can improve with practice. My husband will be pleased if I go fishing with him more often. My Savior will be pleased if I share more boldly and more often of His love and saving power.

John 21: 5-6, 11 "Jesus therefore said to them, 'Children, you do not have any fish, do you?' They answered Him, 'No." And He said to them, "Cast the net on the right-hand side of the boat, and you will find a catch.' They cast therefore, and then they were not able to haul it in because of the great number of fish. Simon Peter went up, and drew the net to land, full of large fish, a hundred and fifty-three; and although there were so many, the net was not torn."

Thursday, July 7, 2011

My Daddy

I've just come in from having lunch with my Daddy and my brother. Remarkable, isn't it? My Daddy and stepmother consider Troy, AL to be "home," but they have a townhouse in Athens, and about every 6 weeks or so, they drive up and stay about a week, connecting with relatives in this part of the state, especially my brother and me.
I went by the townhouse this morning to pick him up, but he insisted on driving because he had a new (to him) Prius and wanted to show off its bells and whistles. He's 83 years old now, but I wasn't even nervous with him at the wheel.
We met my brother in Decatur -- he has worked for 3M Company for 35 years and was "due" an extended lunch -- and had a great time, laughing, teasing each other, and sharing our hearts. It's what we do.
Even though Dad received an honorary doctorate from Mobile College back in the early 1980's, I think I'm the only one who consistently addresses mail to him with "Dr. Tom Collier."
To my children and grandchildren, he is "Gramps."
To hundreds of people who lived on the campus of the Alabama Baptist Children's Home between 1960 and 1990, he's respectfully known as "Mr. Collier."
To former students where he taught, coached basketball, or was the principal, he is "Mr. Collier."
To a huge host of friends and relatives, he's "Tom."
But, to me, he's "Daddy."
My Daddy is an extremely intelligent man. He is particularly good with numbers and a calculator (a trait my daughter Laura inherited), and loves "wheeling and dealing." He'd rather find a bargain than eat the fish that Steve catches and cleans for him, and he LOVES fried fish. :)
My Daddy has been a pillar in the Baptist church for as long as I can remember. His opinion matters to a lot of people, and his wisdom is widely-recognized.
My Daddy plays the piano by ear, and has gotten quite accomplished on his harmonica in recent years. His favorite audiences are folks in nursing homes and his great-grandchildren. He loves getting me to play duets with him, which is something of a feat since he always plays in the key of D-flat. :)
My Daddy's memory is amazing. He prides himself on seeing or hearing of someone from his past and being able to recall the names of everybody in that person's family. He rarely messes up.
My Daddy grew up as the son of a Limestone County sharecropper. I asked him today how many years he worked in the cotton fields, and he said "from the time I could carry a hoe until I got married."
He got both his bachelor's and his master's degrees from Athens College, now Athens State University and was the only one in his family to ever get past high school.
He loved my mother with his whole heart for the 37 1/2 years they were married. A year and a half after she died, he married June Mabray, and they've now been married for 24 years. He has been very blessed in both marriages.
It has been the desire of my heart for my whole life to make my Daddy proud of me, and I know that I will always feel that way.
He doesn't read blogs, so I doubt he'll ever read this, but let me tell YOU. I love my Daddy.

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

When a Woman Has a Daughter

Probably a more accurate title for this blog would be "When Connie Had Laura and Julie," but somehow I think the themes may apply to more than just what I was dreaming and thinking, so I'll keep it as it is and you can tell me later if you understand.

My children were born before the days of 4-D sonograms and ultrasounds. We got blue things and pink things -- just in case. My husband, who grew up with only a brother as a sibling, somehow thought babies only came in boys, so I couldn't even get him to seriously consider possible names for a girl baby until four days before Laura was born!! I was thrilled and deeply relieved when the doctor announced that we had a girl. See? I told you this was back "in the olden days." A girl. I was a girl, so surely I could be a mother to one. Right?

Laura was named for my mother's best friend growing up, Laura Jean Brookshire, who Mom always described as beautiful in the many stories I heard about her. We chose Katherine for her middle name because it sounded so regal and could be versatile, if necessary -- Katherine, Kate, Kat, Kitty, Katie, depending on how her personality shaped up. You get the idea. When Julie came along 4 years and 50 weeks later, we chose Julie because all of the Julies I'd ever known were wonderful young ladies, and the Rose part came from my mother's maiden name.
Laura Katherine and Julie Rose. Feminine, solid, promising names, don't you think?

Since I've always been "on the prissy side," I assumed they would be prissy, too. I fervently hoped they would be musical, knowing that their Dad's musical claim to fame is his ability to "play the RADIO." :) Much to my delight, they were wonderfully gifted in that area, so besides our gender and genes, we shared another great bond.

They grew up with winsome personalities and delightful femininity. A woman's dream. Or, at least MY dream.

Two important visions took shape in my mind during those years. 1) Being the Mother of the Bride -- with all the rights and privileges of that status, and 2) Being the One My Girls Would Turn to First When Their Babies Were Born. Now I also had a son, don't forget, so I clearly understood the distinction of being the Mother of the Groom and of being the mother-in-law when the babies arrive. But, I must quickly insert here that Katie is the World's Sweetest Daughter-in-Law, and her mother is one of the nicest ladies I've ever met.

My daughters' weddings were spectacular, if I do say so myself. :) With careful planning, I really believe that they were both able to have the day of their dreams WITHIN the budget that we set for them. I absolutely basked in my role as Mother of the Bride both times -- which turned out to be a mere 10 months apart.

Then, the babies started arriving. Julie, who is proving to be an overachiever in that department, gave birth to our first grandchild -- A GIRL -- in 2000. She and her husband and precious Allie Grace actually spent their first few nights out of the hospital at our house, which was a special treat. That sweet baby slept just a few inches from my face during those nights while Julie got some much-needed rest upstairs. I helped Julie learn to bathe Allie, mix formula, and change diapers. Just what the maternal grandmother is supposed to do. Right?

When Laura's first child was born, I was living in Ecuador. Isn't it amazing the twists and turns our lives can take? She and her husband specifically wanted their first few days home with Nathan all to themselves, and that was totally understandable. Different set of parents. Different ages. Different personalities. But, we worked the timing so that I flew in from Ecuador just as her husband was going back to work. I stayed with nearby friends at night, but as soon as I walked into Laura's house each morning, she gratefully handed Nathan to me and headed to her room to sleep and replenish her energy. In both cases, my daughters trusted me implicitly, and it felt so, so good to be needed and to be something of an oasis to both of them when they were just learning this awesome new role. They were then and have continued to develop into exemplary mothers. Our grandchildren are very fortunate little people. "One of these days" they will understand just how blessed they really are.

But, here's the rub. I've never seen the movie "Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events," but that's a great way to describe what happened a few weeks ago when our 9th grandchild arrived. Once again, I was the maternal grandmother, but I did NOT get to be "The One My Girls Would Turn to First When Their Babies Were Born," and I admit I've been pretty bummed about that.

It has taken me awhile to come around to the right perspective, but I think I finally have -- a much better place for me to be emotionally and spiritually -- so NOW I can blog about it.

Steve and I now have 4 grandsons and 5 granddaughters! The blessings just keep multiplying!!! I'm a big believer in having bonding times with these children individually and in small groups. That is where I choose to concentrate my energy. Cousins Camp 2011 will begin on Sunday, July 17th. Steve and I have been planning that week for months. We can't wait. That will certainly merit a blog or two as it unfolds -- or once I can move my typing fingers again after it's over.

I've concluded that bonding times don't just happen, especially since our children don't live very closeby. They have to be planned and savored as the opportunities present themselves. In the picture below, you can see Julie's daughter Maggie, along with Matt's sons Luke and Seth, on each end, and their 2nd cousin Trace. This was made last November when we were in Auburn for the Georgia game and then stayed to hear Matt preach at Lakeview the next morning. Luke, Seth and Maggie will be at Cousins Camp, along with Allie and Nathan.
Another grandchild doesn't know it yet, but she NEEDS some time to bond with Grandmomma. Megan Rose, Laura's daughter, will be coming to North Alabama to stay with her other grandparents while Nathan attends Cousins Camp. I can't let a grandchild come this close and not have some special time with her, now can I? So, Megan and I will have a couple of days and nights together BEFORE the older kids arrive. I think we need to make cookies, go shopping and have a tea party. Don't you?
Look at those gorgeous blue eyes -- both mother and daughter. Enough moaning over what should have happened that didn't. The best antidote is recognizing that I've got grandchildren to love and enjoy. Little Megan (above) lives in Ft. Smith, Arkansas -- 9 hours from Athens, AL. This child is a gift to our family, and I want to know her and delight in her. See you soon, Megan. You and Penelope will be old enough for Cousins Camp next year. And, Rosemary and Sam will be close behind. Where are my vitamins? Maybe I'd better take a double dose!

The Bible says that "Grandchildren are the crown of old men" Proverbs 17:6a. If I had written that Proverb, I would have added . . . "and old women." For today, I think I'll just stop after the word "crown." GRANDCHILDREN ARE THE CROWN. Yep. That's it.

Monday, July 4, 2011

6 Weeks are "In the Books"

To those of you who care and are holding me accountable, I have now finished 6 weeks of my renewed exercise efforts and my attempt to get in shape for a 5k before I turn 62.

In the Not-So-Great-News Category, I really haven't increased my speed much since Week 3, but I have been consistent in going at least THAT speed (which shall remain unspecified at this point).

In the Really-Good-News Category, even though the official Couch to 5k plan calls for three 30+minute workouts per week, a friend told me that her brother, who is a well-respected doctor, said that we should each be getting 150 minutes of aerobic exercise per week. I have walked for MORE than 150 minutes in each of the 6 weeks since I started this program. And -- drum roll, please -- this past week I actually walked for 236 1/2 minutes. Woohoo!!! Another great piece of news is that the calf-burning problem I had in Week 2 seems to have gone away.

In the What-Does-the-Future-Look-Like Category, I have about a week and a half for treadmill-walking before Cousins Camp. During that week, which is a highlight of our entire year, 5 out of the 9 grandchildren will be here, and they will receive mine and Steve's full, undivided attention. Many calories will be burned, however not necessarily on the treadmill. There ARE still 10 1/2 months left in this project, and one week of completely justified interruption will not cause The Goal to disappear.
Right??

Hurray for the treadmill, a quasi-permanent loan from a friend!
Hurray for a comfortable, air-conditioned bonus room where the treadmill lives!
Hurray for great walking shoes!
Hurray for interesting books to read that help me keep walking "just a little bit longer!"

Thanks for keeping up. Expect another report in about 3 weeks.

Saturday, July 2, 2011

Fresh Peach Bread

Ripe juicy peaches are synonymous with summertime. Are you with me? Homemade peach ice cream is hard to beat, but somehow our ice cream freezer didn't survive the last couple of moves, so I had to think of a different way to use the peaches sitting on my counter. When I get ready to make a cobbler, I always go to the foolproof recipe in the original Cotton Country Cookbook. But, yesterday I decided to try something a little different and made 2 loaves of bread -- great when it's hot out of the oven or perfect for breakfast the next morning. Here's the recipe in case you've got some peaches begging to be used.

FRESH PEACH BREAD
Preheat your oven to 325-degrees. Peel and puree the peaches, then set aside. Spray two 9" by 5" loaf pans with Pam.

Cream together until light and fluffy 1 1/2 c. sugar and 1/2 c. shortening.
Mix in 2 eggs.
Stir in 2 1/4 c. pureed peaches.
Add the dry ingredients until well-blended: 2 c. all-purpose flour, 1 t. soda, 1 t. baking powder and 1/4 t. salt.
Then stir in 1 1/2 t. vanilla and 1 c. chopped pecans or walnuts. (The Pearson children were never big fans of pecans or nuts of any kind, for that matter, so feel free to leave these out. You'll still have a moist delicious finished product).

Divide the batter between the 2 loaf pans and bake for 55-60 minutes.
Sweet tea is my beverage of choice, but I bet this would taste great with lemonade. Enjoy!


Thursday, June 23, 2011

My Latest Painting Class and My New Heroine

First of all, I would like to HIGHLY recommend the newly-opened Center for Lifelong Learning, sponsored by Athens State University. It is located in the beautifully-renovated building that years ago housed the Ben Jaffe's Department Store where I got my new school clothes and shoes when I was in elementary school. It's on Marion Street, right across from the Courthouse. The CLL already has many classes in the works -- all kinds of computer-related courses, financial advice, genealogy, books and authors, photography, yoga, etc. etc. But, my first choice was "Painting with Acrylics." The teacher was delightful and so were my fellow classmates, ranging in age from 13 to 80.
One in particular is my new heroine, the 80-year-old lady sitting next to me named Barbara. What an inspiration!! She has been a widow for several years, but she is most certainly not planning on sitting down in her rocker and feeling sorry for herself until it's her turn to die. No sir-ree. She's out among people, learning new skills and making new friends. She and "20 of her friends" just returned from a cruise. And, she and her sister will be driving to Georgia for a watercolor workshop next week. When her children questioned the wisdom of her driving that far, she said, "Well, I drove you everywhere you needed to go, didn't I?"
Oh, how I want to be like Barbara as I get older. Spunky. Curious. Friendly. Interesting. Enthusiastic. Inspirational. Happy.
I do NOT want to sit around waiting on someone else to figure out how to make me happy. I want my children to be envious of my social schedule. I want to be the one causing others to laugh and not just the one daring someone to make ME laugh. Get the picture?
I know it won't be easy. Already my body rebels against some great activities that my mind wants me to do. I want to reach down deep and keep going.
Just last night we had dinner with some friends whose only granddaughter was diagnosed with juvenile rheumatoid arthritis at the age of two. She's eight now and has become adept at "pushing through her pain." She might not be able to tap dance, but she can play soccer and loves to swim.
Well, when I'm 80, the list might be pretty long of things I can no longer do, but if I still have my mental capacities, then I PRAY that I will continue to seek out and fulfill God's daily purposes for my life. Because each day that I wake up in the morning, I have to assume it's because God has an assignment for me.
The painting I created during this class might not be museum quality, but I'm going to find a place to hang it, and every time I see it, I want to remember Barbara and live my life fully and well.

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

Week Four -- Day One

I am happy to report that a new habit seems to be forming, and I am actually becoming a "regular exerciser." Yay! I have now completed 3 whole weeks of spending 6 out of 7 days per week on the treadmill, only taking off on Sundays.
The most notable improvement this week has been the increased total time on the treadmill -- now I'm averaging about 40 minutes. This actually happened in a way I wouldn't necessarily recommend. I started on several mornings only to be interrupted by phone calls -- my son, my sister-in-law, my brother-in-law, Steve -- because Steve's mom has been going through a very critical health crisis. I would stop long enough to talk and then get back on. And, since I would want to get back to my same momentum level, etc. my total time inched upward.
My average speed is climbing back up, too, after needing to decrease and go more gradually because of burning calves that were plaguing me last week. I looked back at my log from Week 1, Day 1 and saw that I only made it for 18 1/2 minutes. Today I went for 45 minutes. Woo hoo!!! Now THAT'S progress. :)

I'm expecting some interruptions during this week with Grandbaby #9 pushing to make his appearance and the continued crisis with Steve's mom. But, I'm still committed to my goal.

And, oh yeah. I received some great advice and a huge boost of support from my friend Debi last week. She suggested that I go ahead and pick out a 5k event for next spring AND she promised to come and join me when I undertake this feat. How's that for added motivation?? Thanks, Debi.

Any suggestions for a nice FLAT 5k event in North Alabama in March or April of 2012? I'm determined to wear my 5k t-shirt to the bank when I cash that first Social Security check in May. There WILL be pictures made, of course.

Before long I've got to address the whole diet issue, too, but as Scarlet O'Hara said so beautifully, "I'll think about that tomorrow."



Monday, June 6, 2011

BUZZARD BAPTISTS!!

Steve and I had a delightful time last Friday night riding in a pontoon boat just after sunset with some of our wonderful new neighbors. The river was smooth, and the light breeze made it a perfect setting for laughter and conversation. The subject got around to the different churches that they had visited lately and the pros and cons of each (in THEIR opinions). Then, unexpectedly, our new friend Johnny (not his real name) said, "I'm just a Buzzard Baptist, you know." Steve and I looked startled and said, "What in the world is a Buzzard Baptist?" He said, "I just go to church when somebody dies and there's something to eat!" Of course, we hooted with laughter, since both of us have been SOUTHERN Baptists for over 60 years and have never heard that term. Aren't those words both humorous and accurate? Don't we all know people who fit the description "to a T?" Then yesterday, throughout the hours that I was in my church, fully experiencing all that it means to be a member of the Body of Christ, I kept thinking about the vast benefits that a Buzzard Baptist misses.

A Buzzard Baptist has probably heard many funeral sermons based on John 14 -- "Let not your heart be troubled . . . I go to prepare a place for you . . . ." and Psalm 23 -- "The Lord is my Shepherd . . . ." But what about the other thousands of verses and truths in the Bible? Does a Buzzard ever hear those? Yesterday, for example, the message was on spiritual warfare, and before I went to bed last night, I found myself fighting just such a spiritual battle. What if I hadn't known what it was or what to do about it? Our pastor is such a powerful communicator of God's Word. I never fail to learn from him. And, what about all of those multi-week series of messages that go into depth on issues of vast importance? Our son Matt pastors in Arkansas. He recently concluded FIVE YEARS worth of messages going verse by verse through the Book of Luke. How much deeper now is that congregation's knowledge of the life and words of Jesus!

A Buzzard Baptist never gets to soak in the joy of Christian fellowship, known as koinonia. Oh yes, he/she might get to taste the casseroles and cakes that are brought to feed bereaved families, but that's not the same as learning the heart of your fellow Christian and benefiting from the depth of love and concern. A week or so ago, I was in a small-group setting with fellow believers on a Sunday morning (something we full-timers call Sunday School), and I felt compelled to share some of the burdens we had been carrying as a family in recent weeks. One of the members of the class then voiced a prayer lifting those specific burdens in intercessory prayer to the Father. The peace and comfort that prayer brought to my soul was inexplicable apart from the presence and power of the Holy Spirit and the confidence in the Bible built from years of study and belief.

A Buzzard Baptist probably DOES get to have access to the ministerial staff of a church, especially when it comes to weddings and funerals, but what about having spiritual brothers and sisters come running during crisis times? I remember with such clarity the day that Steve, his Mom, and his brother were waiting on the river bank while the rescue squad recovered the body of his dad who had drowned. I had a caring minister and his wife by my side when Steve called to give me the sad news. Another time I received one of those dreaded diagnoses that we all hope we'll never get. In a meeting shortly afterwards, I quoted an old spiritual and said "It's me, it's me, it's me, oh Lord, standing in the need of prayer." And, my sisters gathered around and prayed fervently. God heard those prayers, and that diagnosis changed to something very good.
Oh, and how could I ever forget the support our family received when the children got married. It turned into something of a marathon event because all three children were married within 16 months of each other. There were 30 teas, showers, luncheons, and parties during those months and MOST were hosted by our fellow church members. Those same church members also filled the pews during those weddings, smiling and wiping tears during the tender moments and laughing, drinking punch and dancing (yes, we're the dancing kind of Baptists) during the celebration receptions afterwards.

I would guess that a Buzzard Baptist has never hosted a DiscipleNow Weekend, an Afterglow, or a Hayride/Bonfire with a speaker. He's probably never gone on a youth choir tour or a volunteer mission trip. He might not have ever worked in Vacation Bible School, taught a class of squirmy, giggling children or sat on a committee researching a crucial decision involving the future of the church. "In my humble, accurate opinion" (as former pastor Bro. Mark used to say), a person who calls himself a Baptist and yet sits on the sidelines waiting for the big meal to be served when someone dies is missing the best parts of his/her status as a Child of God. Yes, it's a comical term, but I really hope I don't ever become one. I need my brothers and sisters, and I WANT them to need me, too.

I pray that our neighbors will find a church that fits them best and that they will be drawn in by the fellowship, the worship, and the loving spirit of the members. Before long I look forward to hearing them tell about the meaningful times they are experiencing, the people they are meeting, and the places of service they are filling. They have talents, personalities and resources that would make great contributions to most any church. It sure is tempting to pass out their names and number. Instead, just pray with me for them, will you? Just say this: "Dear Father, you know those Buzzard Baptists that are friends with the Pearsons? Will you please draw them to a church where they can know You better, love You more and serve You in a way that matches with the way You created them? Thank you, God. Amen."

End of Week 2 Report

Just so I can have a record of this journey AND keep myself accountable to any interested friends, here is where I stand as Week 2 of my "quest to participate in a 5k event before I cash my first Social Security check" ends.
1) As in Week 1, I was on the treadmill 6 out of 7 days, this week averaging 31+ minutes each time.
2) I have found myself actually looking forward to my morning treadmill sessions -- a new feeling.
3) I experienced several days of badly burning calves about 8 minutes into my session. I kept going, but it was painful. After consulting friends for solutions, I a) was more deliberate with before and after stretches, and b) realized that I had increased my speed too quickly and needed to go back down a notch or two and build up more gradually. Today was pain-free again.
4) I have enjoyed a real increase in my daily energy level.
5) I've had some surprisingly creative days, which I credit to my better blood flow and higher metabolism. For example, I painted a picture for my bathroom, I posted several blogs, and I experimented with some new recipes.
6) One day I got on the scales and noticed that I'd lost a couple of pounds, but that must have been a fluke because I found them again the next day. Oh well. Hmmm. I wonder if the last phrase of #5 might be the culprit.
7) I also found another motivational Bible verse. 1 Timothy 4:7 "Have nothing to do with worldly fables fit only for old women. On the other hand, discipline yourself for the purpose of godliness."

How long, according to the experts, does it take to form a new habit? I can't remember, but I'm heading into Week 3 of this project. Maybe it won't take much longer.

Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Wishing for a "Do-Over" on a Few Things

We all have them. Regrets. Times/stages of our lives/events that we wish we could go back and do differently, if only we had the opportunity. You're right to believe that I have had and continue to have a wonderful, blessed life -- no doubt about it. But, there are a few things coming to mind today that, with the experience, the maturity, and the perspective of living to age 61, I know I would gladly accept a "do-over," if it were to be offered. Some will seem trivial to you, and you might even disagree with a few of them. But, I'm just sharing from MY background and frame of reference.

1) I would have watched carefully and taken lots of notes when my maternal grandmother and my Mom made dressing on Thanksgiving. I have never been able to duplicate it, and it was THE best. Everything was cooked ahead of time -- pans of cornbread with the onions and celery baked right in, the pieces of turkey, the boiled eggs, etc. All of the ingredients were crumbled together while the flavors blended and then at the last minute piping hot chicken broth was added to make it warm, moist and scrumptious. Both ladies are in Heaven now, and I've yet to find a recipe like it. Oh, how I wish I'd paid more attention.

2) I wish I had NOT dated the same boy all through high school. I knew he wasn't "the one." My parents and friends begged me to consider other possible dates. But, I stubbornly refused and then ironically broke up with him the week of our high school graduation. I could have had so much more fun. Sigh. I would most definitely like to have those years back.

3) I would have spent more time delighting in the deliciousness of my children's distinctiveness while they were growing up in our home. (Can you tell that I love alliteration?) :) Each of them came from the same parents, went to the same church and schools, lived in the same houses, but they had such unique personalities/talents/gifts/quirks/tastes/opinions/preferences, etc. I didn't enjoy or celebrate that nearly enough. A Do-Over, please.

4) As much as I loved and still love my children, I wish I had given Steve more of my undivided attention and devotion when the kids were in their young years, especially when they were babies, toddlers, preschoolers. Even though it seemed that 90% of my energy was used up on the demands and needs of small children, I should have done more to show them AND Steve that he was my #1 priority. I'm still not sure HOW I would have done this, but, nevertheless, I wish I could go back and give it a more valiant effort. Thanks for loving me anyway, hon.

5) I wish I had said "No" more often to positions in the church which didn't fit my spiritual gifts. Too many times I said "Yes" wrongly thinking, "If I don't do this, it won't get done." When, in reality, my trying and often fumbling and failing in those jobs, prevented someone who WAS spiritually-qualified from being able to exercise their own gifts and abilities. The times I had the opportunity to work in areas of my spiritual giftedness were some of the best times I ever had in church. They were the most fun and never felt like work or drudgery. Spiritual gifts are different from learned skills or talents, by the way. I spent YEARS playing the piano or organ, but those were times of contributing my talents, not necessarily times of exercising my SPIRITUAL gifts.

6) I wish I had taken art classes when I was teaching art, and I wish I had been a member of a wonderful choir while I was directing choirs myself. I've realized this last one just recently. Even though I didn't have any particular training in art, the job description during the last 9 years that I taught public school music included teaching art (Fine Arts were just all lumped together). I did my very best and used every resource I could find, but now I know that the most benefit would have been my personal participation in art classes -- being a student with a "real artist" for a teacher. Also, I've had the privilege since January of this year, to sing in a wonderful church choir under the direction of an excellent choral musician. It would have been so helpful to have watched him on Sundays and Wednesdays and then let what we adults did filter down to my elementary chorus students. They would have done a better job because I would have done a better job.

Well, I'm not expecting a Time Machine to drop down out of the sky that will allow me to go back and "fix" my mistakes. I just thought I'd share them, so maybe if you're in any of these stages or times, you can learn from what I did wrong.

On the other hand, there is a positive way of looking at each of these 6 events.
1) I might not be able to make my Mom's dressing, but I did watch and learn from her communication skills, and as a result I believe (with Steve as my witness) that I could carry on a conversation with just about anyone at anytime. Thanks, Mom, for the great example.
2) I didn't do so well in the dating department in high school, but I had a fantastic experience in college. Such wonderful young men and so many fun times. I did learn from my mistake.
3) I failed to enjoy my children's differences enough when they were little, but I adore their specialness now and marvel at the ways God is choosing to use them.
4) Steve and I have had 12 years since the last child got married and officially left the nest. That means I've had some time to give him my full attention, and I think he's forgiven me for giving him the "crumbs" when we were in the diaper-changing/sleepless nights/ear infections/runny noses stage of our marriage.
5) I'm praying that a place of service in my new church will be found that utilizes my spiritual gifts, and I am willing to wait patiently.
6) I've taken several art classes lately, and I'm faithful about choir rehearsals. I really enjoy just making a contribution from the alto section and letting someone else be completely in charge. This ol' gal still has a lot to learn and enjoys adding wrinkles to her brain, rather than to her face. Ha!

Monday, May 30, 2011

FRUIT PIZZA

Fruit Pizza can be made anytime of the year, but with the wonderful assortment of fruits available right now, it just seems to scream "SUMMERTIME!" There are dozens of different versions of this yummy dessert (which could possibly be put in the category of Healthy Eating -- if you stretch your imagination). I could have made this look very patriotic by using only strawberries and blueberries, but since I was in a hurry to serve this when Steve comes in from a long day of work on Memorial Day, here is what he'll be getting.

FRUIT PIZZA
1 refrigerated roll of sugar cookie dough (or make your own dough from scratch, if you prefer)

1 8-oz. pkg. of cream cheese
1/2 c. granulated sugar
2 t. vanilla

Assorted fruits of your choice cut into bite-size pieces: strawberries, kiwi, red grapes (shown above), green grapes, pineapple chunks, blueberries, peaches, bananas, Mandarin oranges, etc.
1/2 c. of peach preserves (or apricot preserves or orange marmalade, depending on what you have on hand)

Slice the cookie dough into thin slices and place in your pizza pan. Then, with a little flour on your fingers, mash this into something resembling a pizza crust. Bake at 350-degrees for about 20 minutes or until VERY lightly browned.

Beat together the cream cheese, sugar and vanilla and spread it on the cooled crust.

Arrange the fruit in a pleasing way (grandchildren would be excellent for this job).

Place the peach preserves into a microwaveable bowl and heat for 30-40 seconds, long enough to make it a consistency which can be drizzled over the top of the fruit.

Refrigerate until serving time and cut into generous slices. It's fruit, after all. :)

Stylin' to Start Week Two

Well, now. How's that for an improvement in footwear??

Tomorrow begins Week #2 of my get-up-and-get-movin' Couch to 5k goal of participating in a 5k event before I cash my first Social Security check. I'm now down to 50 weeks remaining to accomplish my task. Never let it be said that I failed because I set an unreachable goal. :)

The results from Week One are very positive.
---I got on the treadmill 6 out of 7 days this week, increasing speed and time as I went along.
---I did some actual sweating.
---And I found and purchased the best athletic shoes I've ever owned.

What were the keys to my first week's success?
1) My Facebook support network and accountability partners. My goodness, I had a cheering section from Morgan County to Argentina!! I can't let them down, now can I?
2) The Nook Color that Steve gave me for my birthday. It's amazing how much longer I'll stay on that treadmill when I'm engrossed in a good book. The touchscreen is so easy, and I can make the type as large as I need to.
3) Steve's full financial and moral support for buying these rather expensive, but oh-so-comfortable shoes. Thank you, hon. I even got some great new non-cotton socks. Who knew THAT was important? I pause here for a commercial message. Fleet Feet in Huntsville is a very helpful business. They have a trained staff who can guide you in getting the right shoes for your gait and specific foot issues. The staff member who helped me was Kay. She watched me walk, and then got me on a treadmill and used their technology to analyze what she saw. . . . and I didn't feel embarrassed with the process. A biggie. I would recommend them highly. I've never had really great shoes before. Who knows? I may need to actually get out in public and show them off. :)

I will consider Week Two a success if I'm actually able to complete the REAL Workout #1 on the Couch to 5k Plan, rather than just building up my endurance. I'm going to have to really push myself to make that happen. Who knows what I might be able to accomplish with some cute little workout shorts and cool-looking t-shirt?!

The most natural key Bible verse to represent my personal physical improvement project? Hebrews 12:1-2 "Therefore, since we have so great a cloud of witnesses surrounding us, let us also lay aside every encumbrance, and the sin which so easily entangles us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith, who for the joy set before Him, endured the cross, despising the shame, and has set down at the right hand of the throne of God."

Sunday, May 29, 2011

I Knew the Look

This morning as the choir gathered to warm-up and rehearse before the worship service, I noticed a woman I hadn't seen before standing in the doorway. At first I thought she was needing to get the attention of someone in the choir in order to give them a message. When she continued to stand there, I thought she must have been drawn by the music and just wanted to listen. My good buddy Betty who sits on my right leaned over (during appropriate musical rests, of course) and said, "That's Ryan's (the director's) mother. She's 80 pounds soaking wet." I looked at her more closely and immediately noticed something familiar that caused a lump in my throat as tears gathered in my eyes. I said, "I know how that feels." My surprised buddy to my left (who is actually a former student from years past and is always ready for some merriment and teasing) had heard our conversation and said, "You know how it feels to be 80 pounds soaking wet?" Bless her heart. No wonder she felt the need for clarification!! I managed to choke out (remember we're still singing during all of this and the waterworks have begun to gush), "Well, maybe when I was 10 years old. But what I really understand is what she's feeling as she watches Ryan." Buddy-on-the-left "got it" quickly and said, "I'm looking forward to watching my children when they are old enough to carry out the ministry God has for them to do."
Mrs. Leffel lives several states away and rarely has the opportunity to watch her son do the work that God has ordained for him. Several times a year she gets to visit with him, with his wife, and with his two beautiful little boys, but that's different from watching him be completely in his element, doing with excellence that for which he has both the training and the calling. She was drinking in the sight of her boy and no doubt feeling at least a tiny part of what God the Father must have felt looking down from His throne in heaven when His Son Jesus was being baptized by John the Baptist.

I have had a "look" similar to Mrs. Leffel's often as my children have grown into such amazing adults. I watch Laura enjoying her children and discovering their unique personalities. I love listening to her laugh on a video of Nathan riding a camel and seeing her delight in the privilege of dressing up her 2-year-old Megan in tons of lace and frills. I'm in awe as I watch her teach advanced mathematics classes using the latest in on-line technology, and I'm humbled at the sight and sound of her on her knees voicing a fervent prayer on behalf of a dear friend when we visited recently in her Sunday School class. She's fun to watch in the kitchen whipping up yummy recipes, and she's an exemplary wife.

I marvel at the patience and strength God has given Julie with her four young daughters, as she strives with diligence and determination to understand how each child is wired and to guide them "in the ways they should go." I was inspired seeing her take everything necessary to a muddy strawberry patch recently for Maggie's birthday party because she knew how much Maggie loved strawberries and that by making these efforts she could create what Maggie would later call "the best day ever!" All of this while being 8 months pregnant with Baby Samuel. Julie constantly affirms her husband and is a good friend to many. She sets a great example for others to follow.

I dearly love being "the preacher's Momma" when we visit Wynne Baptist Church in Wynne, Arkansas. It is a thrill to my soul to watch Matt preach the word of God with skill and passion, and I readily confess that in spite of the fact that I've heard sermons for 61 years now, he always teaches his Momma something new. I enjoy knowing that he takes his wife out on dates regularly and that he, too, studies his sons to know best how to help them become the best they can be. I am so happy with the close relationship Matt has with Steve, and I adore his funny personality and his ability to mimic, tease, listen, connect and bring laughter, while also having a soft, caring, missionary heart for his family, his friends, and for lost people all over the world.

As I watched Mrs. Leffel this morning, both in the choir room and in the congregation later, I thought of all these things about my own children. But, then I began to wonder if my Heavenly Father has had any reasons to look at me with pride and love recently and to say, "Well done."
God wants to watch me "in my element." He wants to see me still carrying out the ministries for which He equipped me. He created me to praise and worship Him. Am I doing that in a way that pleases Him? He still has me on earth for a reason. Am I fulfilling His purpose and His desires for my life?

Thank you, Mrs. Leffel, for reminding me of all these things today, just with your countenance. I can assure you that your son has a wonderful ministry in our church and that all of those years of music lessons and college tuition are being used for God's glory.

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

Wrong Shoes. Right Heart. Day One.

Today's weight: Too much
Today's clothing size: Too large
Today's exercise/activity level: Almost non-existant
Today's new goal: Participate in a 5K run before I cash my first Social Security check. :)
Today's impediment to this goal: None

My dear husband, Mr. World's Most Self-Disciplined Man, wants me to KEEP growing old with him, and that means doing MY part to make that happen -- knowing that it is ultimately up to God. I am one week past by 61st birthday. We are consciously eating more healthily. Getting me to move more is the next big hurdle.

I have finally found a method/program with a catchy title that APPEARS to be achievable for me. It's called "Couch to 5K." Goodness knows, I've spent plenty of time on couches, or recliners, or rocking chairs, or padded seats of all kinds. I justify it by saying I've been "exercising my mind." And, yes, I DO read, study, plan, and communicate a lot. And, yes, I admit that every day that includes plenty of physical activity produces sharper and clearer thinking. But, as my beloved PE teacher, Mrs. Rosalie Stephenson, can testify, I am lacking in ALL skills related to sports. I kept a good grade point average in high school and college by diligently showing up to PE class on time, by wearing a recently-laundered gym suit and a smile, and by trying very, very hard. Yes. I was the kid who was always picked near the very end when "the captains" chose their teams. The only reason I wasn't chosen dead last was because I had some nice friends. :)

I love sedentary activities -- reading, sewing, writing, researching, talking, playing Rook and Dominoes, having lunch with friends, having dinner with friends, and yes, having breakfast/brunch with friends or family -- and I don't "sweat pretty."

I also love cooking, EATING, reading cookbooks and discovering new recipes. Would you believe it? The 2nd book I downloaded on my new Nook Color (a birthday gift from Steve) was a COOKBOOK! He'd have a fit if he knew. I already have cabinets and shelves crammed full of them.

This is not the best time to start a new project. It's a Tuesday, for heaven's sakes, and not a Monday. It's the 24th of the month, not the 1st. My "recreational shoes" are horrible -- they looked like such a good deal at the outlet store where I found them -- but I can't stop right now and get anything better. It's now or never.

Happily, I DO have a treadmill (thanks to the generosity of a skinny friend), so I don't have to begin this plan with an audience. And, "Couch to 5K" has a handy-dandy treadmill version that I have printed out, ready to go. The treadmill happens to be in our bonus room which we only heat and cool when we have company. Steve, however, graciously gave me permission to set the thermostat at whatever temperature I needed in order to follow-through with this plan. Bless him.

Today's the day. I've procrastinated long enough. I'm out of excuses. Feel free to hold me accountable and ask how I'm doing. Expect weekly reports. Up and at 'em.


Wednesday, May 18, 2011

60. . . 61 . . . .

Isn't it amazing what all can happen between birthdays, and even more so between DECADES?
The above picture shows me with my 60th birthday cake, almost exactly one year ago. The night before, all the Pearsons (except Laura's husband David and daughter Megan) had gathered at Mid-America Seminary in Memphis to watch as Matt received his Ph.D. Then, for my birthday Steve treated all of us to lunch at Rendezvous for delicious ribs and barbecue.
Matt's sisters were proud of their brother and didn't even mind telling him so.
And, just look at this gorgeous line up of grandchildren present for the event. That's Rosie in the carrier. She is now 15 months old and has a baby brother due in a couple of weeks. As I think about all that has happened since these pictures were made, I couldn't help but think about other decades in my life and what I was doing during each of those stages.

From age 10. . . . to age 11 . . . . My family and I moved from Athens, AL to Troy, AL, from everything familiar to everything unfamiliar. From an insulated family of five to a Goldfish Bowl with 200 on-lookers.
From 20. . . to 21 . . . . I married the man God chose specifically for me and transferred from Samford (Christian, small, familiar) to Auburn (secular, big, imposing). From carefree singlehood to marriage.
From 30 . . . to 31 . . . . Our three children were ages 7, 3 and 2, I was teaching piano to a HOST of students and had a major responsibility every time I walked in the doors of FBC Hartselle (or so it seemed to me at the time).
From 40 . . . to 41 . . . . I was teaching public school music, our firstborn was in her last years of high school, Steve's business was finally solid and successful, and still I had many responsibilities (now thought of more as opportunities) at church. Our first international mission trip was yet to happen.
From 50 . . . to 51 . . . . Our nest was empty and Grandchild #1 arrived -- our amazing Allie Grace. I was teaching at Danville-Neel, among great friends, and was the organist at Central Baptist in Decatur. By this time, we had gone to Brazil, Guatemala, South Korea, Ecuador, Belize, Kenya and Venezuela on mission trips and loved each country, its people and the ministries we were allowed to facilitate.
Now I've just completed the year between age 60 and 61. The year had its share of major events just as other decade years before it.
1) I retired from teaching.
2) Steve had emergency surgery, and God was present through every minute of the crisis.
3) We moved into our house on the river, back to Limestone County where my life began.
4) We found a new church home (First Baptist Athens) with lots of lovely and loving new friends.
5) All the children and grandchildren gathered for both Thanksgiving AND Christmas. Yay!
6) Allie turned 10, Luke turned 6 (TODAY!), Nathan turned 5, Seth and Maggie both turned 4 (Maggie just yesterday), Megan and Penelope turned 2, and Rosie turned 1.
7) Steve and I celebrated our 40th anniversary.
What a great year!
I'm EXPECTING another wonderful year of watching the children thrive and the grandchildren blossom. I'm looking forward to another year of laughter and love with my dear Steve. And, I'm certain that I will see God's hand at work throughout each day and each challenge.
I can't help but wonder what I will type when I've reached 70. . . to 71. . . . , 80. . . to 81 . . . ., 90. . . 91. . . . and (gulp) 100. . . to 101. I'm pretty sure I can't blog from heaven, nor would I want to with all of that amazing praising going on. Age 61? Here I am, waiting for my assignment(s).

In the meantime, the weather is getting mighty nice outside. Come and join me for a glass of sweet tea or some lemonade.

Friday, May 6, 2011

We Go WA-A-AY Back

I actually can't believe that the waitress just took one photo, and we all managed to have our eyes open with decent looks on our faces. It must have had something to do with the sopapillas we'd just finished. :)
The three beautiful women with me in this picture have been a part of my consciousness for as long as I can remember. Dixie Harrison, seated, is my first cousin. June Street, on my right, is my aunt (although she's six months younger than I am). Ginger Murphy, on my left, is my 2nd cousin, but I've always considered her to be a much closer relative than that. We came into the world between May of 1950 to May of 1952. We were little girls together, and we shared holidays and family births, deaths, weddings, picnics and whatever else we or our parents could think up. From a "blood" perspective, we share one primary common relative -- Queenie Leola Griggs Rose, who was June's mother, Ginger's aunt, and mine and Dixie's grandmother.
One of our strongest bonds is music. Three of us actually have college degrees in music and have taught piano or voice for years, besides leading church choirs or accompanying for them. The other had years of piano lessons and giggled her way through many-a-duet during the dreaded recitals.
Between us, we have 9 children (ranging in age from 37 to 17), 17 grandchildren (from age 15 to 3 weeks from being born), and 3 remaining parents who are now in their 80's. We are all card-carrying Southern Baptists. These facts alone should give us plenty of material for conversation, but just think of all the extended family members we have in common and whose "stories," personalities, issues, and quirks provide share-worthy material.
Getting us together is a lot like herding cats because of the various paths we each travel and the demands on our time. So, yesterday when we found ourselves in one place for a couple of hours -- Rosie's Mexican Restaurant celebrating Cinco de Mayo -- it was a rare, delightful time for us all.
Our moaning and groaning over age-related aches and pains has definitely increased in the last twenty years, but there are still things we continue to do that we did as little girls -- share secrets, exaggerate our tall tales, laugh a lot, and fight back tears. Our ancestors are legendary for being soft-hearted.
There were years when we were great geographical distances apart -- California, South Florida, South America, etc. But, at this stage of our lives, we're within an hour's drive of each other, so I hope we can find times to connect more often.
I wonder what our picture will look like 20 years from now. Will somebody please roll our wheelchairs to a cozy corner when we can no longer do it for ourselves? This Quartet (1st and 2nd soprano, 1st and 2nd alto) needs to keep laughing and loving for a long time to come.

Friday, April 15, 2011

Sunsets, Sunflowers, and Sage Sayings from Proverbs

"A tranquil heart is life to the body" Proverbs 14:30a
"Pleasant words are a honeycomb, sweet to the soul and healing to the bones." Prov. 16:24
"A man has joy in an apt answer, and how delightful is a timely word!" Prov. 15:23
"Sweetness of speech increases persuasiveness." Prov. 16:21b
"A joyful heart is good medicine" Prov. 17:22a
"A joyful heart makes a cheerful face" Prov. 15:13a
"A gentle answer turns away wrath" Prov. 15:1a
"A soothing tongue is a tree of life" Prov. 15:4a

"A cheerful heart has a continual feast." Prov. 15:15b
And one that always makes me smile -- "Good news puts fat on the bones." Prov. 15:30b

Thursday, April 14, 2011

CLEANSED

Over a month ago, I put the word "CLEANSE" on my calendar for Tuesday, April 12, 2011. My first-ever colonoscopy was scheduled for the day after, so I began dreading the clear liquids and horrible-tasting, clean-you-out stuff that had to be consumed in large quantities at various points preceding my arrival for the test. Generally, "cleanse" is a good word, especially when you're referring to housekeeping chores, teeth-brushing, make-up removal, and the like. But, this kind of cleanse was what everyone referred to as "by far the worst part of a colonoscopy." The kind where you don't dare leave the house and you wear very loose clothing.

The closer I got to April 12th, the more the Lord convicted me that I needed another kind of cleansing, too. A spiritual cleansing. A time of confession and seeking forgiveness. A day when my slate could be wiped clean and God could hear my prayers again. The vast majority of my prayer time had been consumed with thanksgiving and intercession, with precious little else other than a cursory "and forgive me of my sins." I knew the list had begun to really mount. I could feel it in my soul.

So, last Tuesday morning, after a breakfast of iced tea and jello, I read my Scripture passages for the day, and then I sat still with my notebook turned to a fresh page, my pen poised, and my heart ready to hear from God. I asked God to convict me and to remind me of all the sins in my life that had not been confessed.
I was claiming two verses in particular:

Psalm 32:5 "I acknowledged my sin to Thee, and my iniquity I did not hide. I said, 'I will confess my transgressions to the Lord, and Thou didst forgive the guilt of my sin.'"

1 John 1:9 "If we confess our sins, He is faithful and righteous to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness."

The conviction began quickly. God brought to my mind overt sins, attitudes that were offensive to Him, promises I had failed to keep, people who were not seeing a consistent Christian walk from me, actions that I had justified as "okay" but that He considered wasteful and ungodly. My pen flew, and the pages quickly filled. With a heavy heart, I got up to do other things for awhile, but the conviction continued. I found that not having food or eating on the front burner of my mind allowed me to focus on more important aspects of my life, and I could hear His voice more clearly. Isn't that why He wants His children to fast?

Throughout the day, as sins (yes, call them what that are, SINS) were brought to my mind, I asked my Heavenly Father to forgive me, and I have the assurance that as He looked into my heart and saw true repentance, then His forgiveness erased my sins -- not the consequences of them, but the guilt of them.

By the end of that 24-hour period, I was physically cleansed and spiritually cleansed. I hope the physical aspect will be an impetus toward better eating habits, and the spiritual effect will cause me to confess and seek forgiveness often. I want the lines of communication between my Abba Father and me to be completely free, clear, and constantly open. Just as I long to hear His voice, I desire for my prayers to be unhindered.

After my colonoscopy, the doctor told Steve (because I was "out of it") that I didn't have to come back for another one for 10 years. That's supposed to be good news from a medical standpoint, but can you imagine how muddled, even destroyed, my communication with God would be if I waited 10 years to confess my sins again? My physical goal will be more fiber and less fat. My spiritual goal will be DAILY confession and cleansing from sin made possible by the death and resurrection of my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Selah.



Saturday, April 9, 2011

So Many Seasons in my Rearview Mirror

You don't reach the age of 60 without going through many seasons of life. Some I have glided through gracefully, while others have been survived with weeping, wailing, and gnashing of teeth. A few have been barely tolerated, but then there were those that were deliciously savored and reluctantly bidden farewell.
My early childhood, as a product of the innocent 1950's, was enjoyed in a way I could only dream about for my own children and grandchildren. So little television and technology. So much family time and playing outside. The above picture is one of my favorites. In case you see no possible resemblance to the way I look today, I am the one sitting cross-legged on the chair. My Grandmother Rose is holding my little brother Andy and my cousin Dixie, and my Granddaddy Rose is holding my Aunt June. Yes, my grandparents added their 6th child six months after I (their first grandchild) was born. We lived next door to them when I was age 5 until about 9, and their house was THE gathering spot on all holidays and every Sunday afternoon. My granddaddy was a well-respected barber in the City of Athens, who never owned a car, and my grandmother had severe motion sickness so she was the epitome of a stay-at-home mom. She was an awesome cook. Awesome. Not much money, but somehow there were plenty of groceries.
The picture below shows my beautiful momma and handsome daddy. I was in one of my many awkward stages (especially in terms of hairstyles), my brother was always doing funny things, and my little sister was adorable. Do you read that Elder Brother Syndrome in what I just typed? Ha! My mother LOVED Elvis Presley and wouldn't miss an episode of "As the World Turns." My Dad, after being a school teacher, bus driver and principal, had just gotten hired as a mathematician at Redstone Arsenal (back when computers took up whole rooms and weren't even as powerful as a hand-held calculator is today). We never missed church -- Sunday morning, Sunday night, Wednesday night, and Vacation Bible School -- unless we had a high fever, measles, mumps, or chicken pox. Times were simple and very, very good. Not much money, but so much love.
Just a couple of years after this picture was made, my Dad was asked to move to Troy, AL to become the Asst. Supt. of the Alabama Baptist Children's Home. He accepted the job. We made this drastic change, and that season will be described in another blog on another day.
My teenage years took place in Troy. Again, another blog for another day.
I started wanting to attend Samford University when I was in about the 9th grade and heard about a wonderful piano teacher there named Mrs. Betty Sue Shepherd. I LOVED my time at Samford, and Mrs. Shepherd had a profound influence on me. That season is definitely worth a whole blog.
While home from Samford one Christmas, I met Steve Pearson (I hope you read my tribute to him in the 40th Anniversary blog I wrote), and not many months later, the Newlywed Season of our lives began. It was another lean season in terms of money. We had a student loan, and I made $15 a week playing for a small independent Methodist church. Believe it or not, that bought a tank of gas and a week's worth of groceries. On Mondays I taught piano lessons to two young girls, so on Monday nights we went to Burger King and then played pool at the Auburn Student Center for a penny a minute. We were so much in love. We had NO IDEA we were just barely makin' it. Definitely, it was one of those Savored Seasons. Ahhhhhhh.
Then, reality time came with graduation from college for both of us and the time for starting careers, getting a mortgage, and making babies. Take a look at these cuties. Didn't we do a good job?
My youngest daughter posted the well-known verse from Ecclesiastes 3:1 on her Facebook page recently. "To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under heaven." I'm not exactly sure what prompted her posting on that day, but I can guess because I was once in a position similar to hers. Young children, lots of runny noses, constant visits to the pediatrician for ear infection re-checks, scraped knees, many nights with sleep interrupted by bad dreams, throwing up, or coughing, etc. etc. I just had 3 children in 5 years. She has 4 little girls and is almost 7-months pregnant with a baby boy. There are innumerable great moments that happen during those years when you are rearing little people to be successful adults, but it's tough on your body, your nerves, and your patience. I've only heard of 2 women in my life who made it through the years of rearing a lot of children (one had 4 and the other had 8) without raising their voices. To this day I am in awe of Mrs. Sam Boster and Mary Quinn.
Only one of the children was a teenager in the above picture, but shortly thereafter, all three of them were teenagers. Once again, there was weeping, wailing and gnashing of teeth -- both by them AND by Steve and me, but if it were possible, I would wave my magic wand and have them all at home again. There was constant activity, drama, and a stream of friends. Food was always involved. It was about this time that many churches were building Family Life Centers. My husband's famous words were: "The kitchen table is the REAL Family Life Center." Almost always, we had supper together at night with the television off. Now we were often interrupted by people who had problems with their dogs or cats, but we waited many, many nights until Steve got home, so we could eat together. A memorable season, indeed.
One by one, the children started leaving the nest for college. My wise friend Angie said, "Connie, you'll cry every day for about 3 weeks, then you'll be okay." She was right. I really hated having my chickens out of the nest and quickly learned how to e-mail -- which was much cheaper than long-distance calling. But, about the time I started enjoying going to the grocery store and buying what Steve and I liked rather than what the children or their boyfriends/girlfriends preferred, they came home for a weekend or for the holidays or for the summer.
From the Fall of '92 when the oldest headed to college until December of '99 when the last one got married had to be the most EXPENSIVE season of our lives. But, again, in retrospect, we wouldn't have had it any other way. And, after all, what is money for anyway?
Now, we've been Empty-Nesters for 10 1/2 years and grandparents for almost that long. This season suits us, too. There is so much to enjoy about watching our children be such thriving, successful adults and about playing with and delighting in our grandchildren. Once again, I almost wish I could stop the hands of the clock and just stay at this stage for a very long time to come.
But, I know that other seasons are ahead. Ones that may be the most challenging of all. I haven't been through these stages yet, but I've had a chance to watch my Dad and Steve's mom bravely face them. Losing a spouse, aging, failing health. Those don't sound like a lot of fun. I have to just trust God to give me the grace I will need when these times come.
As a compliment to my mother-in-law, just recently she has had to move into an assisted living facility because of health issues. How hard that must be to go from a comfortable 3-bedroom house, to a 2 bedroom apartment, and now to just one bedroom, a bathroom and a closet. This latest and probably greatest change has been met with determination, optimism and a very positive attitude. She is embracing life, meeting new friends and making herself look attractive and participate in new activities whether she wants to or not. We are very proud of her. I hope my children will be able to say the same of me one of these days. I pray that I won't go kicking and screaming into the times of transition that are inevitable between now and the end of my life.
In Ecclesiastes 3:2-8, there is a great list of occasions starting with the words, "a time to___." I want to be caught engaging in the best items on that list: planting, healing, building up, laughing, dancing, embracing, sewing, speaking, loving.
I trust in God who is Sovereign, who loves me, and who orders all the events in my life according to His purposes. Romans 8:28