Tuesday morning, tiptoed into my daughter's home. The home where just yesterday my seventh grandchild and fifth grandson was born, just minutes before I arrived that early Monday morning. All was well and peace reigned. There before me lay a quarter-hour-old babe
wrapped in a towel. A towel I had seen on bare bottoms coming from the tub, now over the bare and brand new of the world. He lay so softly as he left his mother's breast. He barely moved but to breathe and show his arms from the swaddle where he lay. It was once again brand new.
Now to Tuesday..I come to help and spend time with the other tots that sit at their breakfast table, ready for the new day. Still in their pajamas, life going on, baby brother sleeps close by.
Today though there will be a milestone of enormous proportions. I will gaze upon his gaze. He will open his eyes and I will be there. Eyes innocent and deep blue that they say cannot actually see what they are "staring" at. Yet he stares. I stare back and it occurs to me, "I wonder what it's like to see for the first time, to have no idea what you have before you, to have no real frame of reference? Nothing to blur your vision, no preconceived notion. What does innocence actually 'SEE'?
That wonder remained all week and each time I held him, like I had each grand baby before, I just wanted to look into his eyes,to take him in, to give him the chance to take me in, this body with no name just yet, this one named Marmee, how do we bond so quickly? But this time it occurred to me...how do we "SEE"? What lens do we use to stare into someone?
What does it take for us to truly gaze into a person's being? Gauge the situation? How hard is it to walk over our preconceived notions, the word from others, our own personal experience, the communication mega flood? Babies have none of that. They are able to monitor a small area that enlarges daily. They are registering what they hear and feel with senses that are completely pure. Watch their little faces when their mother or their daddy speaks to them...it's undeniable..they know them, but how?
With all my heart I believe that we all still have this pure ability to "SEE". The many forms of visual and audible communication are no substitute for what our spirits are able to show us. This is not mystical, or weird. It's who were meant to be....to hear the heart of God who wants to put within us all His great love for us, His deep desire to care for us, help us, comfort and calm us. He will help us to see like a babe if we just ask and believe the vision we once relied on, the newborn kind, is able to be restored. Able to be used in all areas where we find ourselves needy...I know I have many of those.
Just like the innocence of an infant, we are just as vulnerable. Able to be hungry, hurt. Needing to be comforted, protected, warmed and cleaned, nurtured...loved. Here we now stand...farther along in the process of age...walking upright...talking, smelling, hearing, ingesting. We are just older babies and we can see with new eyes....if we just will.
"as it is written:
'no eye has seen,
no ear has heard,
no mind conceived
what God has prepared for
those who love Him'
but God has revealed it to us by
His Spirit.
The Spirit searches all things, even the deep things of God.
For who among men knows the thoughts of a man except the man's spirit within him?
In the same way no one knows the thoughts of God except the Spirit of God.
We have not received the spirit of the world but
the Spirit who is from God,
that we may understand what God has freely given to us.
I Corinthians 2:9-12 NIV
Friday, February 25, 2011
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Spring Visits
Feeling the breeze blow across my feet, my bare 
feet. They touched the ground today. It was perfect. The robins had foretold it yesterday, but this morning the wren made a call across the trees. Seems there is hope in the air...hope for spring.
feet. They touched the ground today. It was perfect. The robins had foretold it yesterday, but this morning the wren made a call across the trees. Seems there is hope in the air...hope for spring. Today, pulling back the pine straw that was piled high, dense against the most vulnerable plants, there sat pansies waiting to be discovered, lamb's ear tender with new sprouts, bulbs with green noses pointed to the sun. Oh, I love the spring....but it is too soon. Too soon to get fired up about sticking the summer bulbs in the ground. Too soon for no shoes...but today..while it was so promising..I chose to walk like it was spring. Dig like it was spring. Listen like it was spring.
When you hear kids squealing as they play in the streets...smell grills grilling....see robins pulling worms...watch the full moon come and go behind the traveling clouds...feel the sun on your back...your back without a coat...there is no way the calendar can stop you from wanting what you feel is coming.
Life is many times like that. There are days we want to see coming. Better days. Happier, healthier, calmer, more promising days. Sometimes our hope holds on by a thread. We've seen some signs, but logic says, "Don't get your hopes up." Sometimes it bubbles to the top anyway. Ofttimes
it takes Someone bigger than us to place a token of it in our hands. He is wonderful at doing that. He sees us. He's working on it all. He wants us to hang on to it.
Don't know what your day, week, month has handed you, but for you, my friend, is this:
"Now may the God of all hope
fill you with joy and peace
as you trust in HIM,
so that you may
overflow with hope
by the power of the Holy Spirit. "
Rom. 15:13
He is near. He is faithful. Reach across the ages and take His unseen hand. Clasp it tight. Hold on.
He is with you.
Spring is surely coming. You can count on it.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Happy Birthday, Susa Belle!
Happy Birthday, Susa Belle. I remember the day you came into my life. It was at my Aunt Millie's house. It was my birthday party. My birthday party and my cousin, Mike's. Mike is a girl, but they shortened her name.
We had a great cake and played games. Everyone stood around us as we opened our gifts. That's when I met you.
My momma handed me this beautiful package and I tore all the paper off by myself. It was a baby blue box with little writing on it and flowers all over. It said "Madame Alexander".( but I couldn't read then.) I took off the lid and pulled back the paper. And there you were! I couldn't believe you were mine. It made me smile and smile. I loved you right away.
Guess you wouldn't remember all the times we played together, but I do. I took you on wagon rides, and we had tea parties, you even got to go to my friend's house and play with her. There were more times than I can count that we spent the night together. I remember this because you weren't a "sit on a shelf" kind of friend. You were a "let's get busy having fun" kind of friend.
Your buttons are missing on the back of your dress and your hat has a hunk out of it. You lost your shoes while we were on the run one day and your ribbon belt is long since gone. Your hair needed combing a long time ago when I didn't care about mine either. We just had fun being together and that's why today, your first-day-out-of -the -box birthday is so special to me. I'm so glad my momma and daddy gave you to me.
So, Happy 54th Birthday, Susa Belle! We've lived a lot of life together and boy have we had fun!
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Ethel Sally Miller Daniel
On February 9, 1977, I came home from work, ate dinner, and walked over to my grandmother's house to spend some time with her. That was a life long walk. From my house to my grandmother's. We lived next door to one another for so many years of my life.
She kept me everyday as a small child while my mom worked. She took me all over the world, my world, the Mississippi delta was our distant land. My days involved playing by myself, making my own imaginative world, running in and out of the house, barefoot and busy.
Mamaw spent her days making home..home. She cooked three meals a day. She fed the chickens, worked in her large garden and sometimes we would go into town. Her red 1949 Ford Fairlane sedan was always ready for the trip and she prepared me as well.
If you left the house for town you needed a scarf wrapped securely under you chin, Jergen"s lotion on your cheeks and coat buttoned up to the scarf. If it was cold you had pants on under your skirt. She detailed herself the same. Sitting in the front seat was just fine then. No air conditioning, so windows were rolled down for air on the hot days.
Making days interesting was not a pursuit, days were for just being busy. That could include gathering eggs, shelling beans, canning fruit from the orchard, sometimes in the winter...killing chickens or maybe a pig. Life just was what it was... a daily work to make sure the future didn't catch your dinner table empty.
Christmas brought new excitement as she made big plans about her gifts for all of her granddaughters. My favorite was the year she bought "Barbie" wardrobe cases for each of us and filled them with clothes she made herself, buying a little bag of shoes and tiny snaps, buttons and elastic. All of us were given a box complete with dresses, some with sequins across the front. The best part was watching her pick out the fabric and cut each one. Her projects were very much a part of her life. The sewing machine sat right in the middle of the living room.
When there was a dress needed, or even if there wasn't a need, she started pulling patterns and checking out fabric. You got a quick measurement and then she was on her way. Some of those clothes still lie in my cedar chest. One has been worn by my granddaughter. Her great, great.
There are times in your life when just everyday life takes on new meaning. An evening jaunt across the driveway could have been common place but the depth of the time was unimaginable. That evening, 2/9/1977, I was soon to move away, to the Gulf Coast. I was six months pregnant with my first child. This evening I knew my chances to sit and talk were coming to a close very soon. So we sat and chatted, she in her straight chair, me in the large upholstered. She just encouraged me in ways that were not specific,"You'll know what to do when the time comes. Don't get all upset over every little thing." A woman of few words giving a girl with many a small pep talk about parenting. No examples. No funny stories, just words, given softly and sweetly.
Little did we know that the next day would change everything. A call came to me at work, she had fallen...she was feeding the dog and fell down the steps.
Rushing the ten miles home, my dad and I found her sitting in a chair in the front yard. Nitroglycerin pills in hand. Pain all over her face. An ambulance came, a hip was replaced and I left her side at the hospital that night to pack up my house for the move. She told me she loved me, I told her back and she shooed me on my way. It was the perfect way to say good bye. I am so thankful for that. One move in the wrong direction and she was gone.
When you remember a life well lived, an ordinary day, a memorable conversation, it's like a depth that is hard to fathom, but the truth is that you feel it keenly because it can be a large portion of who you are. I just know that we are the sum of all the parts and many of my parts are stamped with the initials E S M D. I hope someday my grandchildren will say the same... PLTP.
"Strength and honor are her clothing;
She shall rejoice in time to come.
She opens her mouth with wisdom,
And on her tongue is the law of kindness.
She watches over the ways of her household,
And does not eat the bread of idleness.
Her children rise up and call her blessed.....
Charm is deceitful and beauty is passing,
But a woman who fears the Lord,
she shall be praised."
Proverbs 31:25-28a, 30
She kept me everyday as a small child while my mom worked. She took me all over the world, my world, the Mississippi delta was our distant land. My days involved playing by myself, making my own imaginative world, running in and out of the house, barefoot and busy.
Mamaw spent her days making home..home. She cooked three meals a day. She fed the chickens, worked in her large garden and sometimes we would go into town. Her red 1949 Ford Fairlane sedan was always ready for the trip and she prepared me as well.
If you left the house for town you needed a scarf wrapped securely under you chin, Jergen"s lotion on your cheeks and coat buttoned up to the scarf. If it was cold you had pants on under your skirt. She detailed herself the same. Sitting in the front seat was just fine then. No air conditioning, so windows were rolled down for air on the hot days.
Making days interesting was not a pursuit, days were for just being busy. That could include gathering eggs, shelling beans, canning fruit from the orchard, sometimes in the winter...killing chickens or maybe a pig. Life just was what it was... a daily work to make sure the future didn't catch your dinner table empty.
Christmas brought new excitement as she made big plans about her gifts for all of her granddaughters. My favorite was the year she bought "Barbie" wardrobe cases for each of us and filled them with clothes she made herself, buying a little bag of shoes and tiny snaps, buttons and elastic. All of us were given a box complete with dresses, some with sequins across the front. The best part was watching her pick out the fabric and cut each one. Her projects were very much a part of her life. The sewing machine sat right in the middle of the living room.
When there was a dress needed, or even if there wasn't a need, she started pulling patterns and checking out fabric. You got a quick measurement and then she was on her way. Some of those clothes still lie in my cedar chest. One has been worn by my granddaughter. Her great, great.
There are times in your life when just everyday life takes on new meaning. An evening jaunt across the driveway could have been common place but the depth of the time was unimaginable. That evening, 2/9/1977, I was soon to move away, to the Gulf Coast. I was six months pregnant with my first child. This evening I knew my chances to sit and talk were coming to a close very soon. So we sat and chatted, she in her straight chair, me in the large upholstered. She just encouraged me in ways that were not specific,"You'll know what to do when the time comes. Don't get all upset over every little thing." A woman of few words giving a girl with many a small pep talk about parenting. No examples. No funny stories, just words, given softly and sweetly.
Little did we know that the next day would change everything. A call came to me at work, she had fallen...she was feeding the dog and fell down the steps.
Rushing the ten miles home, my dad and I found her sitting in a chair in the front yard. Nitroglycerin pills in hand. Pain all over her face. An ambulance came, a hip was replaced and I left her side at the hospital that night to pack up my house for the move. She told me she loved me, I told her back and she shooed me on my way. It was the perfect way to say good bye. I am so thankful for that. One move in the wrong direction and she was gone.
When you remember a life well lived, an ordinary day, a memorable conversation, it's like a depth that is hard to fathom, but the truth is that you feel it keenly because it can be a large portion of who you are. I just know that we are the sum of all the parts and many of my parts are stamped with the initials E S M D. I hope someday my grandchildren will say the same... PLTP.
"Strength and honor are her clothing;
She shall rejoice in time to come.
She opens her mouth with wisdom,
And on her tongue is the law of kindness.
She watches over the ways of her household,
And does not eat the bread of idleness.
Her children rise up and call her blessed.....
Charm is deceitful and beauty is passing,
But a woman who fears the Lord,
she shall be praised."
Proverbs 31:25-28a, 30
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Timeless Strength
God is our refuge and
strength,
an ever-present help in
trouble.
Therefore we do not fear,
though the mountains fall into the heart
of the sea,
though it's waters roar
and foam
and the mountains quake
with their surging.
There is a river whose streams
make glad the
city of God.
the holy place where the
Most High dwells.
God is within her, she will not fall;
God will help her at break of day.
Nations are in uproar,
kingdoms fall;
He lifts His voice, the earth melts.
"The Lord Almighty is with us:
the God of Jacob is our fortress.
Come and see the works of the Lord,
the desolations He has
brought upon the earth.
He makes wars to cease to the
ends of the earth;
He breaks the bow and the spear,
He burns the shields
with fire.
"Be still, and know that
I am God;
I will be exalted among the nations,
I will be exalted in the earth"
The Lord Almighty is
with us;
the God of Jacob is our fortress.
Psalm 46 ( emphasis is mine)
NIV translation of the Holy Bible
strength,
an ever-present help in
trouble.
Therefore we do not fear,
though the mountains fall into the heart
of the sea,
though it's waters roar
and foam
and the mountains quake
with their surging.
There is a river whose streams
make glad the
city of God.
the holy place where the
Most High dwells.
God is within her, she will not fall;
God will help her at break of day.
Nations are in uproar,
kingdoms fall;
He lifts His voice, the earth melts.
"The Lord Almighty is with us:
the God of Jacob is our fortress.
Come and see the works of the Lord,
the desolations He has
brought upon the earth.
He makes wars to cease to the
ends of the earth;
He breaks the bow and the spear,
He burns the shields
with fire.
"Be still, and know that
I am God;
I will be exalted among the nations,
I will be exalted in the earth"
The Lord Almighty is
with us;
the God of Jacob is our fortress.
Psalm 46 ( emphasis is mine)
NIV translation of the Holy Bible
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Judy Joy
In first grade I first encountered Judy Kathryn Beasley. Today is her birthday. She had the most amazing handwriting. As a first day of school went, it was horrible, but getting to sit at her table made it a bright shiny one. She was the best colorer. Everything was in the lines and all her crayon strokes were going in the same direction. Her Hair was long and brown. I really liked her from the very start.
It took a while for us to become friends but by second grade we were"Bests". That was the year we both got glasses. Cat-eye glasses. Third grade was the year that started our Barbie obsession. Fourth grade, we wrote a play together with our friend, Jane, and the three of us put it on for the whole fourth grade. Fifth, we fell in love with the same boy, who could have cared less. Sixth, we got excited about my baby sister being born. Seventh, we read Miss Dick's pick in English Literature, Jane Eyre and became Beatlemaniacs at the same time.
Eighth, our Beatlemania became obsession and we pretended we were married, she to Paul and me to Ringo. Letters were passed between classes as if we were on the road with them. We always cried when we heard or played "I Wanna Hold Your Hand." When "A Hard Day's Night " came out we decided on a movie marathon, crying and singing, seeing it three times in a row. We walked out completely delirious and full of big dill pickles. I still have the letter she wrote me from the Holiday Inn in Memphis the night she got to go and scream with with rest of the world as the fab four played to a packed coliseum. That only added to her charm.
Ninth made a dent in our one -on- one relationship when she fell in love. It was good to see her happy. She was always a cheerleader. Again, she was good at it. High school was the best of times and the worst of times. Guys got in between us and week-ends were consumed by dating, but our lives stayed intertwined. We had three years of art, two years of home ec and a year of mechanical drawing to add to our list of fun times. For two years we both worked part-time together. We wore each other's clothes and wrote each other notes, talking on the phone nightly.
When I think of Judy, I remember the I Corinthian 13 passage and think of her great way of loving folks. There was nothing selfish about her. She walked gracefully through some very difficult territory and remained poised and committed. Her natural way of just staying the course and doing her best made her a terrific student and friend. From the first sight of her until the last, I loved and admired her. I still do.
So today, what would have been her 59th birthday. I do my best to write a loving memory of how she changed the life of a little, chubby, cat-eye glasses, insecure girl. She would never know that when she died in September of 1970 she would be the catalyst to turn my big-girl life around. Her abrupt leaving of this world caused mine to change on it's axis. My selfish, hard heart was taken and broken and reconstructed. It was not an overnight change, but it reset my course and I ultimately began to flow in a whole new direction. Her sweet letter that lay on my dorm bed had just been read before I learned of her aneurysm. We loved each other til the end. She was just 18 and half years old.
So today, as I shed a new flow of fresh love in the form of tears, here is a word for you,
"Dear friends, let us love one another,
for love comes from God." 1 John 4:7
When God gives you special friends and they love you well, do not take that for granted. It is His great pleasure to give us this gift, this gift of companionship, this walk-alongsideness. If you have it, like I have had and have once again been blessed with, you, my friend, have been given
something that is a life-changing gift, a part of a great big plan for your life. Do not throw it away. Cherish it and it will bring life, even in the midst of tragedy. I am living proof of that.
Now...Happiest of Birthdays would be in order here on this earth, but since Judy's faith reward is eternal life, she celebrates everyday. Right now I'm drying my tears as I smile just remembering that.
It took a while for us to become friends but by second grade we were"Bests". That was the year we both got glasses. Cat-eye glasses. Third grade was the year that started our Barbie obsession. Fourth grade, we wrote a play together with our friend, Jane, and the three of us put it on for the whole fourth grade. Fifth, we fell in love with the same boy, who could have cared less. Sixth, we got excited about my baby sister being born. Seventh, we read Miss Dick's pick in English Literature, Jane Eyre and became Beatlemaniacs at the same time.
Eighth, our Beatlemania became obsession and we pretended we were married, she to Paul and me to Ringo. Letters were passed between classes as if we were on the road with them. We always cried when we heard or played "I Wanna Hold Your Hand." When "A Hard Day's Night " came out we decided on a movie marathon, crying and singing, seeing it three times in a row. We walked out completely delirious and full of big dill pickles. I still have the letter she wrote me from the Holiday Inn in Memphis the night she got to go and scream with with rest of the world as the fab four played to a packed coliseum. That only added to her charm.
Ninth made a dent in our one -on- one relationship when she fell in love. It was good to see her happy. She was always a cheerleader. Again, she was good at it. High school was the best of times and the worst of times. Guys got in between us and week-ends were consumed by dating, but our lives stayed intertwined. We had three years of art, two years of home ec and a year of mechanical drawing to add to our list of fun times. For two years we both worked part-time together. We wore each other's clothes and wrote each other notes, talking on the phone nightly.
When I think of Judy, I remember the I Corinthian 13 passage and think of her great way of loving folks. There was nothing selfish about her. She walked gracefully through some very difficult territory and remained poised and committed. Her natural way of just staying the course and doing her best made her a terrific student and friend. From the first sight of her until the last, I loved and admired her. I still do.
So today, what would have been her 59th birthday. I do my best to write a loving memory of how she changed the life of a little, chubby, cat-eye glasses, insecure girl. She would never know that when she died in September of 1970 she would be the catalyst to turn my big-girl life around. Her abrupt leaving of this world caused mine to change on it's axis. My selfish, hard heart was taken and broken and reconstructed. It was not an overnight change, but it reset my course and I ultimately began to flow in a whole new direction. Her sweet letter that lay on my dorm bed had just been read before I learned of her aneurysm. We loved each other til the end. She was just 18 and half years old.
So today, as I shed a new flow of fresh love in the form of tears, here is a word for you,
"Dear friends, let us love one another,
for love comes from God." 1 John 4:7
When God gives you special friends and they love you well, do not take that for granted. It is His great pleasure to give us this gift, this gift of companionship, this walk-alongsideness. If you have it, like I have had and have once again been blessed with, you, my friend, have been given
something that is a life-changing gift, a part of a great big plan for your life. Do not throw it away. Cherish it and it will bring life, even in the midst of tragedy. I am living proof of that.
Now...Happiest of Birthdays would be in order here on this earth, but since Judy's faith reward is eternal life, she celebrates everyday. Right now I'm drying my tears as I smile just remembering that.
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