Rising From Ashes

Today was a tough homeschooling day. Language arts was looooong with LOTS of information for my restless and talkative 6th grader to process. Subjective pronouns, objective pronouns, possessive pronouns, charts and lists and more charts...... By the time it was quiz time, his brain was fried. So was mine.
Then there was science. Physical and chemical properties of matter. A never ending session with more information in one lesson than a whole library has....
Frustration is the word. For both of us.
After a lot of breaks and going back over the lessons, we finally finished. He went to watch a little TV and I went to my room to just sit quietly for a bit.
Brain overload. For both of us.
After a few minutes my door opens and Chan says, "Nanny. Come here. I want to show you something."
I almost said, "Wait a while buddy. Nanny's taking a rest." But I looked at his expectant face and I forced myself to go with him. He opened the front door. It was pouring down rain outside.
"Where are we going, Chan?! We can't go out there buddy! We'll get soaked!"
"No, Nanny, I want you to feel something! Come sit in the swing on the porch for a minute. We won't get that wet. Please?..."
Reluctantly I stepped out the door and sat beside him in the swing. The rain was hard and loud. The air was sticky and humid. I was already thinking of going back inside.
And then I felt the wind shift. It seemed that the temperature dropped a few degrees. I looked at Chan and he was sitting beside me, his head back, his eyes closed, a smile on his face. I laid my head back and closed my eyes and felt the cool mist of rain on my face, my anxiety from the day seeming to melt away. We sat like that for a while, holding hands, neither of us talking. Finally Chan said, "I just wanted you to feel that. I love to sit on the porch when it's raining and feel it on my face. I knew you would too Nanny."

Did I ever tell you how much I love homeschooling?

The Call of the Owl

I heard it outside off and on all day but it stayed in the background of my mind. First, cooking in the kitchen I remember thinking, wow that's a different bird sound and it's so close. Again while doing laundry, I heard it but I had other things on my mind so it didn't even register. In fact I was slightly aware of the call all day, not once giving it much thought, almost like a dream that you know you had but that you can't remember the next day for the life of you......
It was later, while I was in my chair reading that I heard it again, close, distinct, beautiful, and all of a sudden it was if something had woken me up, that I had been in a coma and now I was conscience. The sound I had been hearing all day was an owl! I hear the call of mourning doves all the time, but this was different. I have never seen an owl in the wild and it is well-known within my family that it is on my bucket list to see one. Not in a zoo, not on TV, but in the wild. Free.
I don't know why there was an owl outside my house in the daytime but the sudden realization that there was made my heart beat faster. I couldn't believe that it had been calling to me all day and I hadn't noticed. Until now.
The moment I knew what it was, I sat very still in anticipation and joy for a long time. I listened. I waited and waited, almost holding my breath to hear it again. And I didn't. I couldn't believe it. I had heard it all day. Now it was gone. It was as if as soon as I became aware of it, it all of a sudden left.

How many other things are always in the background of my mind and I am too busy and too distracted to notice them?
I constantly say prayers to God that He would speak to me and give me a "sign" and He does and my mind doesn't register it and my eyes won't open...
And then there are times when I do all of a sudden realize that it is Him, that He is calling to me and it causes my breath to catch and it brings a peace within me, a peace that I long to have more of. And He is silent a lot of the time but I know He is still out there, watching me, waiting for me to notice.....

I'm going to see an owl someday , outside in a tree, calling to me. And my heart will beat faster and I will hold my breath and I will know that he was there all the time, there in the wild, singing his song to me, just waiting for me to listen....

On Waiting.......

This morning, swinging on the Creek Road porch, looking at the tree my daddy planted over 50 years ago, my Chan asked me a question. 

"Nanny, have you heard about that tree that you can plant in the ground and the first year you plant it, it doesn't grow? And then the second year it doesn't grow either. Not the third year or the fourth or even the fifth. And then in the sixth year it starts growing and it grows and grows after that into a big beautiful tree. Have you heard about that?"

"No, I don't believe that I have, Chan. But it reminds me of something that happened here on this porch about nine years ago. It was April and I was sitting in the swing waiting to see a hummingbird. I had put my feeder out and hoped it wouldn't be long before they found it. I would sit and watch and I know this sounds silly, but I would ask God to please let this be the day I see one. You see my daddy, your great granddaddy, loved hummingbirds. He was in nursing home, had been sick a long time with a disease that makes him forget everything and I didn't know how to help him.  I don't know why I was so desperate to see the hummingbird, I guess it just would have reminded me of when he was himself and would sit for hours watching these fascinating little birds. I know that they brought him joy. 

Well I watched and watched and prayed and prayed and nothing. Most everyone else I knew who fed the hummers had already seen them at their feeders. I just couldn't understand it. Day by day went by with no sightings. Well about two months later, on June the 8th, your grandaddy went to live with Jesus. I was very sad, but relieved too that he was finally himself again, with no pain, and with a complete mind. The day after he left here, I was on my porch crying a little. You do that when someone you love a whole lot dies. I stared at the hummingbird feeder and was feeling kind of sad and mad at the same time. I hadn't asked God for much. Just to let me see one little hummingbird. I had been watching and asking for two months now. And not one came.

I didn't think I was really seeing it at first. It fluttered at the feeder for a few seconds and then flew right up to the screen where I was sitting and looked at me, it's emerald wings fluttering swiftly. My breath caught in my chest. It had a red throat and was the prettiest hummingbird I had ever seen. It stayed suspended in front of me for just a bit and then flew back to the feeder, drank for a few seconds, and then flew away. I think I was still holding my breath when I realized what had just taken place. God had sent me the hummingbird at just the right time to let me know that my daddy was ok."

I told Chan that I'll bet that most people would have gotten tired and given up while waiting for that tree. Maybe they would have been ok with it not growing in the second year, even the third. They would have said, "ok, I'm gonna give it another year." But then by the fourth and fifth years, they would give up. They would say, "this tree is never going to grow. It's been five years now! I'm just going to dig it up and forget it." But they never get the time to dig it up and they forget about watching for it to grow. And then... then in the sixth year, they look at that tree and it is bigger and fuller. They watch and see it grow and grow and they can't believe that it is finally happening. 

God didn't send the hummingbird when I asked Him to. 

I didn't understand.

I thought He didn't hear me.

I thought He didn't care. 

I was tired of waiting.

I almost gave up.

It was when I was at my saddest, with the most questions, when He finally sent it.

And I believed.

If He had sent it when I asked, I may not have believed it was Him. 

His timing is always perfect.

His ways are higher than ours.

He wants us to trust Him with all of our hearts.

 

It may not always look like we expect it to but....

Just wait.

The tree will grow.

The hummingbirds will come. 

He has made a promise.

In His timing.  

The One At The Waterfront

I hesitated telling this story. I am a firm believer that if you continuously shout what good you are doing in this life, that warm fuzzy feeling and the applause of others might be all you ever get.
However I also believe that stories need to be shared, because we are in fact, all in this together.

I have befriended a homeless man in my hometown. He lives on the benches at the waterfront. He tells me that he has somewhere to go when it is cold or raining, but I'm not sure. He is always alone.
I first saw him when my husband and I were having lunch on a beautiful Spring day at the waterfront. Bojangles chicken. And sweet tea. I noticed him lying there, a filled trash bag beside him with all that he owned in it....another one filled and used as his pillow.  Now, I love my fried chicken and I've been known to get doubles of that dirty rice, but as we ate, I felt my appetite kinda dwindling, highly unusual for me. When he sat up and begin looking over at us from a distance, I knew that I would be taking chicken and dirty rice home that day.
"I wonder if he is hungry."
My husband didn't say a word as I got up and started walking.
"You hungry?"
He said it fast, nodding his head. "Yeah. Yeah I am."
"What would you like?"
Again, fast. "Chicken. Bojangles chicken. And some french fries. And sweet tea. Large".
He smiled and I smiled.
"Be right back."

I've seen him a lot since that day, six months ago. He is always alone. He had a bicycle for a while, with a basket to carry his life. Sometimes when I stop, he has food already. There are others caring for him. On those occasions, I just hand him money for his next meal. He rarely says thank you, he just smiles. He's a fairly young man. Somewhat mentally challenged. Sometimes he knows exactly what he wants. "Big Mac, large fries and sweet tea." Fast. When he knows what he wants, he always says it fast. Other times, he thinks. For several minutes. He has never asked for a seafood dinner. He has never asked for money. It's always something simple. He knows our truck now. And Eli. He knows Eli.

I took the boys with me one day. I wanted them to meet him. He already had food that day so I introduced him to my grand boys and handed him a little money. He smiled. As we were leaving, my youngest turned around and suddenly asked, "Hey. Do you know Jesus?"
My friend smiled at Chandler and said, "Yes.   I've known Him all my life."

Sometimes when I ride by, and he is there, and I look over and he has food, I don't stop.
Sometimes I wonder what he does with the money.
Sometimes he isn't there.

Tonight we rode by the waterfront. He was there, on the bench. He raised up when he saw the truck, Eli in the back. I was in a bit of a hurry to get home, so I was kinda hoping he was eating. He wasn't. I didn't see his bicycle. Just the trash bags.

I went over, said hello and reached out the money to him. He didn't take it. He didn't say anything. He just looked at me. His eyes were sad and questioning.

"Are you hungry?"

"Yes ma'm."

"What would you like?"

Fast. "Wendy's cheeseburger with ketchup, mustard and pickles. French fries. Large. And can I have a Frosty? Vanilla? A medium one?"

"Be right back."


I've never been hungry. He didn't take the money. Most would have taken the money.

Tonight I saw hungry.  And it broke my heart.

Dear Lord, he has known you all his life. Thank you for taking care of him. Open my eyes.
It could have been me. Me, on the outside. Help me to always remember that.

We are all in this.......together.

The Past Six Months Of My Life

It's January 1st, 2017.
In July 2016, I sold my childhood home to my daughter and her family. Three generations now in the home on Creek Road. I could try to tell you how much that home meant to me, how that porch was my haven, my safe place, how I always wanted to get back to it when I was gone for long, the memories of my childhood there, of raising my children there, the traditions we made, how I always said I wanted to die in that house........I could try to tell you but I could never make any of you understand.
We moved in with my mama, my husband and I did. We bought this little house on Maple Street about 15 years ago for my mama and daddy to live in. My daddy never really did enjoy living here, his mind was nearly gone to Alzheimer's. After Daddy died, Mama lived alone, bravely, for nearly eight years. She's at a point where she needs help now.
Selling the house to my daughter, moving in with my mama was absolutely the right decision. Knowing that my grandboys will be raised in the same house that I was raised in, the one I raised my children in, brings a peace and joy that I can't explain. They have already made it their own. Lots of renovations and additions...it is beautiful.

One night, probably in September, during the renovations, I went there all alone. The house was empty, no family, no furniture, original bare oak floors, no ceilings, just wooden beams from 50 years ago, no electricity, the only light was from the full moon that night, shining in every bare window....so quiet. I walked through every room. The tiny back bedroom I shared with my sister, the room where I played as a child and where I dreamed and planned as a teenager.  I stood in the hallway and remembered so vividly, hearing my daddy get up early in the mornings to go to work, the sound of him stirring his coffee, me sometimes meeting him in the kitchen to say goodbye to him. The living room, so bare, so quiet, so many memories. And the kitchen. The place where I discovered that I had a love for cooking, it was never a chore, I always loved it....it was my therapy.
And that porch. The swing was still there. I don't know how long I sat there, swinging, sobbing, asking Him for peace, knowing it was right, knowing I had to leave, trying to say goodbye.
I walked through the house one final time and I prayed in every room. I prayed that peace and joy and love and protection would fill this home for my daughter, my son-in-law, my grandboys.
I felt it as I walked out. That peace. That knowing. It was hard. But it was right.

When I go there now, it is different, yet the same. I don't cry anymore when I leave.

These past six months have been teaching me something. I have grieved. Not just for the house. For a lot of things. Things of life. Of changes. Of uncertainty. A sadness of knowing......
I have not been myself. I have felt a little lost. I have been in a place I have never been before... emotionally, physically, spiritually.......
But.
I am learning.
He is teaching.
Of that I am sure.
I am hopeful.

My phrase for 2017 is "Live What Matters".
The next chapter.
Intentional.
Fully engaged.
Let all that is within me.......

Just When

Just when I wake up hoping the day will bring something good and I end up going to bed that night with no new hope, just more worries,

Just when the pain is almost more than I can bear and it has lasted for days and I have tried to push through it the best I can,

Just when the surprise bills come all at the same time and the ones you love need things and there is always the need for money, money, money,

Just when the news tells of yet another child who has been violated, another family who has been killed, another bomb that has gone off,

Just when I read the comments on social media, the hate, the intolerance, the need to get even, the sarcastic darts thrown at our fellow humans,

Just when I embrace the mood, I’ve had enough, I want to scream at someone,

Just when I look up at the sky and wonder if there really is a God who sees us, who loves us, who cares,

Just when I've cried all that I can cry and now I sit and just stare because that’s all my numb mind can do at this point,

It’s then…just when I am at the point of giving in to that feeling of despair and hopelessness, that I see a person right in my own hometown who sleeps on a bench every night with all that he owns in a trash bag close beside him and I thank Him for my home and my bed and my things…

It’s then that I read about the many who suffer through unimaginable pain with no help in sight, no reason to hope, no relief from the worsening pain and I thank Him for medication and doctors and heating pads and comfort….

It’s then that I realize that I shop at Whole Foods, I drink expensive coffee at coffee shops, I grill a ribeye whenever I want to, I buy raw honey from a local health food store to sweeten my organic whole bean coffee, I take off on a trip whenever the mood strikes me, I buy my dog the best dogfood and I close my eyes and feel a sense of guilt and I know He wouldn't want me to because there is no condemnation from Him and I cry and tell Him that I thank Him and I love Him……

It’s then that He reminds me that we live in a hurting, broken world and that He didn't intend any of this for us, that as much as we can’t understand here, He has a plan and always has and promises that we will see that one day and He allows me to see that always always through the bad there is good…..always……

Just when I am on my porch in my swing and it is silent and the overthinking brain that He created in me is doubting and wondering and trying to figure it all out, it’s then that He sends me the cardinal. And she flies close up to me and stares at me. And I look out at the field of buttercups down the lane and I see them softly fluttering and I close my eyes and feel His wind whispering to me….that lifting of the lump in my chest, replaced by the light feeling of nothingness…..and I feel myself smile and it is that knowing in my heart that I’ve tried to explain to others but can’t put into words, the knowing that all is well and He is here and will always be….

Walk This Road With Me Will You? Chapter 10

It has been over 4 months since my last blog. I have been waiting for my son to send me his story.  I have been saying to him: "I need your story. I told everyone it was next."
To which he would reply:  "I know. I'm working on it.  Mama, I don't really like one-sided conversation. I just wish all of the people who will read this could be sitting with me in person so they could talk back with me and I could try to answer their questions."
I do get that. But we both realize that it can't happen like that with everyone. So it has to be written.
He tells me that he is starting his own blog. Because I am a firm believer that we should share our stories, I am happy about that.
Here is his first chapter......

 "Let me start by saying this: I would so much rather have a conversation with each of you than write an essay of my life for you to read. I’m better at dialogue than I am script. When I first started writing this, I was overwhelmed by the task of saying everything perfectly. I wanted to make sure everyone who read my story understood all of it, completely. Now, four months later, I realize that’s not going to happen. My story is mine, and all I have to do is tell it. 

God, I thank you for being real in my life. Thank you for loving me enough to pursue me and speak truth to me. I ask that You would be in every word I write. Let Your Holy Spirit move right now, as I tell about how You’ve revealed Yourself to me. Your Word tells us that we overcome by the blood of The Lamb, and the word of our testimony (Revelation 12:11). I pray that You would release deliverance, healing, revelation and truth through the word of my testimony.

I don’t remember a time when I didn’t believe in God. I mean, I heard about Jesus before I heard about almost anything else. There are pros and cons to that I guess. There’s a part of me that wants to remember that moment when I first acknowledged the existence of a Savior. On the other hand, I’m unbelievably thankful that I was born into a family who focused on Faith. It should be said that I wouldn’t change a thing.

I remember very clearly the dreams I had as a child. I used to try to imagine myself as a grown-up, and everything my little mind thought that would look like.Those pictures would make me happy. I saw myself married to a woman I was in love with. I saw a bunch of kids running around, my kids. I saw myself sitting at a piano on an empty stage, eyes closed, singing about the greatness of God. 

I also remember when those vivid dreams started to fade. It wasn’t all at once. It was over a long, toilsome, cloudy period of time. I was fourteen when I first acknowledged my same-sex attraction to my mother. I didn’t have to say anything, mind you, she already knew. She still listened to me try to explain it though, something I myself didn’t even understand. She cried with me as I expressed how much I didn’t want it. She was wonderful. I wouldn’t find out how deeply it affected her until much later. 

There are a lot of important truths I am now aware of that I was clueless to back then. To walk you through every question, every prayer, every tear, every fear, every decision, every relationship, every stance, every fleeting idea of truth would be pointlessly difficult. However, I will tell you what I have constantly been in pursuit of: truth. I wanted to know what was true. Don’t get me wrong, I knew parts of the truth. The parts about Jesus, salvation, grace, eternity - I was fairly clear on those things. What I was uncertain of was how to reconcile my seemingly unchangeable sexuality with my Faith. In a span of 15 years, I read countless books, watched several documentaries, and sought council from family, friends, pastors, and strangers. All in pursuit of truth. During those 15 years, the seasons of victory and clarity were overwhelmingly shadowed by seasons of confusion and defeat. It was as if I came to an impassable wall. I was stuck. 

Here’s the thing about coming to a wall and staying there: you start settling. You’re eventually forced to start making decisions out of defeat, and that is exactly what I did. I looked around at the only options I thought were available to me and I began making my decisions based on what I saw. Convincing arguments that were biblically unsound began sounding more and more appealing. I started viewing the issue as more of a social matter (I wanted it to be socially logical), rather than that of a spiritual one (I no longer needed it to line up with God’s Word). This road assisted in leading me to Spiritual death.

There was another factor that was an even bigger contributor to my Spiritual decay.That was the absence of The Holy Spirit in my life. This is the most important part of my story. For in the resolution of this problem, everything else in my life made sense. Like I said, I grew up in church and had a relationship with Jesus Christ. But because of misguidance and misrepresentation of The Holy Spirit I had seen as a child, I unknowingly shut out the existence of the true Spirit of God, and the power that is available through Him in our lives.

I was raised in a charismatic church. I have so many incredible memories and love so many people from that church. However, I saw things that didn’t make sense. I heard people speak in tongues without any explanation as to the purpose. I watched them shout, and run, and participate in other emotionally charged things, but I didn’t see how those things helped anyone outside the walls of the church. I didn’t see a point to any of it. I didn’t see how that was helping other people at all. So, I decided to figure out what was “real”. I started isolating everything that resembled what I had been told “The Holy Ghost” was, and labeled it all nonsense. I began despising anything that looked similar to the way I was raised. I developed a very comfortable and logical faith in a very  practical and understanding God, a God who adjusted himself to the needs of our ever-changing society. I was lost and confused, with no foundation to rely on. I had removed the stability of the Word of God, and rejected the power of His Spirit in my life. 

Then something unbelievable happened. In November 2011, some good friends of mine invited me to attend what I thought was a crazy Pentecostal conference. They could see that I was searching for answers. They could tell that something wasn’t right with me. So they invited me and prayed for me. I declined the first several invitations. I actually ridiculed most of them for being involved with it. You know what they did? They continued to pray for me. Then, in March 2012, I decided to go. I went with caution and hesitancy. I went with my questions. I went with my answers. I went with my problems, struggles, and issues. It was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. The realness of God hit me in the face. The power of His Holy Spirit was awakened in my life for the first time. There’s no way for me to explain every detail of that night. I listened to godly people talk about things I had heard before. I sat in skepticism for the majority of the teaching. I even contemplated walking out after a few minutes. But I stayed; I listened. At the end of the teaching, I glued myself to my chair as other people, friends of mine, made their way to the front to experience the presence of God. I wanted to leave. Instead, I asked God to show me truth - show me what was real. And He did. He revealed Himself to me in a way that I had never experienced. Something inside me knew He was asking me to step out in faith and believe. When I opened myself up to Him, He showed up in a very real way. The rest of the week was filled with so many biblical truths about who God is, who we are, and how our identity is found in Him alone.  

What I learned has literally been life-changing. 

I am a follower of Jesus Christ. I believe in the salvation that is offered through His sacrifice (Romans 5:8-9). I will continually work to make Jesus the Lord of my life. I have been born of the Holy Spirit of God. I believe that the Spirit that raised Christ from the dead is the same Spirit that lives in me; His power is available to me (Romans 8:11). The Word of God is truth. I believe that it reveals the heart of God. I believe that faith comes when we hear it. (Romans 10:17) 

This is who I am. This is my identity. Everything else in my life must line up with this. That is the decision I have made. Do I still have questions? Yes. Do I know what’s best for everyone? No. I am only telling you my story. And my story isn’t over. 
If anything, it’s just beginning."