Sunday, February 27, 2011

It was a real Pat and Dorothy Day...

A couple of Sundays ago, the good folks of The Father’s House had an appreciation day for my parents, for their service “on the hill” since 1982.    It was a complete surprise for them.   Right up until the moment it all started coming together, they didn’t suspect a thing.   It was truly a special morning for them, and for us, and all of their church family, too.     With the exception of a grandson and his family who couldn’t make it, all of Mom and Dad’s immediate family were there, along with Dad’s two sisters and their husbands, and a nephew.   

Before church started, Dad and Mom were in the fellowship hall, where Dad teaches Sunday School, and didn’t know that we were there…all 29 of us.    As they came out of the front room and into the sanctuary, it took Mom a few minutes to notice us, but it didn’t take Dad long at all!    At the front and off to the side, two easy chairs were placed for them.   Mom got tickled (and when mom gets tickled, she really gets tickled) when it all started to sink in what was happening.   And of course, there were some tears, lots of smiles, and an over-abundance of love.   

My sister, Gina, put together a wonderful slideshow, which was about 10 minutes long.   On the slideshow below, I only took a sampling of the pictures.    Both Gina and my other sister, Cindy, got up to share a few thoughts, and my daughter, LesLee, read each of them a heartfelt letter she’d written.    I held it together (for the most part) but I did shed a few tears when Les read the letters.  Miss Nancy sang Dad's favorite song, "Beulah Land."   Gina’s husband, Steve, put music to a poem I had written, which made a nice song written just for them.    A portion of that song, sung by Steve, is on the following video:

The sermon was on faithfulness, and how there is such a lack of spiritual mothers and fathers in the church today.   It was a beautiful and heartfelt message, a job well done by Pastor Jerry.   Afterwards, he presented Dad and Mom with a very pretty plaque, and we then had dinner on the grounds.   It was a beautiful day of love and appreciation.

My parents have seen a lot of changes over the years since they started going to that church.    Pastors have come and gone, and many faces have come in and out, as well, but my parents have remained there, doing what they do…whatever needs to be done.   The current pastor, Bro. Jerry, and his sweet wife, Donna, have been there for nearly 9 years. 

Church and God have always been a big part of my life, even when I didn’t live my life in any obedience to Christ.   It was many, many years ago that my mom started going to church on another hill on Tuscaloosa Street.   At that time, I was merely weeks old, and her fifth child.   A few years later, Dad started going with her.     We went to that church until they closed the doors and joined another church in 1979.    The pastor of that little church on Tuscaloosa Street, GT, and his wife, Diane, still remain close family friends, even though they moved away so many years ago.   Their daughter, Tammera, (who will always be “Tammy” to me) is still one of my best friends in the whole world.  

Lyrics to Because You Believed:

Verse One
Life can be tough for a young one learning life’s ways
I made wrong turns and got off track
It’s a crazy mixed up place when you don’t have an Anchor,
But when my world came crashing down,
I always knew you had my back.

Because you believed, you taught me about Him
So when I fell down, I landed on my knees
I knew how to pray, and Who to call
I knew Jesus when His spirit hovered near
Now I know Him, because you believed

Verse Two
Growing up, it wasn’t always hard.
Looking back, I wouldn’t change how you raised me
Thanks for the hours you spent praying
Thank you for showing me the Light,
When I was too blind to see

Through my bad choices, hard times and years of drought
I never forgot where my Help came from…
You taught me well for when I’d fail I still believed
And Mama, I still believe

Verse Three
It can still be tough walking through life’s valleys
I am weak but He is strong
You’ve stood by me, prayed for me, and reminded me
That when I walk the lonely roads,
With Him, I will never walk alone

Because you believed, I knew about Him
When troubles came, I got down on my knees
I knew how to pray, and Who to call
I knew my Jesus when His spirit hovered near
Now I know Him, because you believed

Monday, February 21, 2011

Nashville Highlights....

Happy Birthday to me!

Ole Boy and I spent my birthday weekend in Nashville.     I’ll spare you the parts about how I was headachy and whiney, (and today I’m still achy and whiney)...and share with you some of the highlights of my little weekend away.

Question for you….what do you get when you go to the Opryland Hotel in February?   

Who attends such an event?   I have a few names, which I won’t share, but some of the names I don’t know drive vehicles like this: 

The three amigos put their picture with a flock of
dead turkeys on the side of the van.
I’m not making fun!   Well, maybe a little bit.
From the looks of it, there were only about
5000 folks in attendance for this annual event.


Last year, I had a perfect birthday weekend in Nashville!    Sometime after that trip, Nashville flooded and the hotel was flooded as well.    They were closed for many months while they remodeled, repaired, and finally reopened.    I have to say I didn’t notice that a lot was different…and that's perfectly fine, because it's a pretty place to visit.   It was a very nice weekend, complete with a Cool Springs Galleria mall trip, a few "gastronomical delights" at our favorite Nashville restaurants, and a very special lunch with one of our favorite people, Nick.     

I love flowers!   It was Spring in February!

This was all inside the hotel.

I believe this was new...

Room day I may actually stay here!

A video of some of the flood damage:

Coming soon:
A Church Tribute to my Parents

Saturday, February 12, 2011

Six Word Saturday

Global warming is freezing us out! 

 Cate over at Show My Face hosts Six Word Saturday,
where we are challenged to use only six words to describe our lives...or something!

(for more Six Word descriptions, visit Cate @ Show My Face!)

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Accidents Happen

A few weeks ago when there was a little icy precipitation, The Kid wrecked my dad’s truck.   I was pretty irritated about it because I thought she shouldn’t have been driving it with the possibility of ice.   She felt, at the time of the decision, that there was no ice on the road.    A few days later, she wrecked her own car.   She has a history of wrecking her vehicles.   Tickets too, but that’s a blog for another day.

Her recent accidents got me to thinking about my own history of wrecking vehicles.   There were the three wrecks I was in that I didn’t cause…I wasn’t even driving one time.   Then there was the time I backed into my dad’s car…actually, a borrowed car, it wasn’t his.   I have no clue why it was there, he didn’t need to borrow a car…but it was parked behind me and I backed into it because I didn’t look.    Less than a month later, I did the same thing…I backed into the preachers car.    Another time, I ran a red light and smacked a chick with a hot temper.   Very hot…until I got out of my car and she stood about 5’1 to my 5’8…I outweighed her by a bit, too.  She took a turn for the…cooler.

There was the time I was leaving work and hit a chick in an already beat up and rusty ‘mobile.   She got a pretty penny for that!   I’m almost certain she didn’t fix that bucket of rust.   I wouldn’t have.

But the accident that stands out most in my mind is the time I had just gotten my pretty little red car with the moon roof and mud guards, and the sporty little spoiler on the back…a five speed.   I thought I was the coolest chick in town shifting those gears!    One rainy day, I was headed home from college and I took a route known (by everyone except me, apparently) to be very slippery when wet.   About the time I hit this downhill, curvy road, I began to slide.   I lost control of my car and slid into a big ditch, landing sideways in a ravine, on the opposite side of the street.  The ding-dang ditch was peppered with enough big rocks and concrete pieces to rip the bottom of a pretty little red car to shreds.    

As I was sitting there, sideways in the car, it occurred to me that I was OK.    A little shook up, but uninjured.    Suddenly, the under-yonder of the hood begin to pour smoke.   I was convinced she was going to blow!    I was out of that vehicle in a matter of seconds!   From a sideways position.   Out like a jack-in-the-box!

By the time I realized it was only the radiator, I had already asked a guy who stopped to see about me to call the police and my dad to come help me.   I was living with my parents while I was getting my degree, and as I peered into the car, staring back at me was my cigarettes had fallen out of their secret hiding place.  One of my dad’s greatest dislikes.   Smokers!   And his daughter loved herself a long cigarette!   120’s.   Menthol.   Puff Puff.  

I knew I’d only get grief for smoking…he’d say the reason I wrecked was because of cigarettes.   He wouldn’t be happy with me, and I knew my only hope was to get those cigarettes and hide them.    Without thinking, I hopped back into the sideways car, rescued the stogies,  and tried to get out.   And tried.   And tried.   It was very hard to hold a door straight up and climb out without the aid of adrenalin.  I finally hooked one leg over the side and was emerging like a turtle when some chick stopped to ask me if I needed any help.   I didn’t.   And I didn’t need an audience.   Did I mention, it was raining the whole time?

I gave up smoking years ago, thankfully.  I now understand a little better why Dad hates smoking.    If you live in my area, you don’t have to be afraid of my or my daughter’s driving abilities.   I promise.   Really. 

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Doctor Visits

Once upon a time, I had a regular physician with whom I was quite satisfied.    She obviously didn’t feel the same way, she sold her business…do you call patients ‘business?’   She sold her practice to some yay-hoo, and went north.  I didn’t bother to change doctors, and I ended up liking him just fine.   He apparently didn’t feel the same; he gave his patient records away to another set of doctor-hoos, and moved south.  This time, I have rebelled, and I have appointment with my new choice next month.   I hope I like her.

When I was a kid…before you saw a doctor, you had to be turning blue.  Or red, like the time I cut my arm so bad I required both an inside and outside row of stitches.   These days, kids are taken to the doctor for a stuffy nose.     By the time I considered myself an adult (pregnant,)  and had to see a doctor, I really didn’t know what to expect!  I had never been, how would I know?  I’d heard stories that made me shudder in horror…but my reality was that I had to go to one of “those” doctors.

My friend, The Flirtatious Miss M, had a kidney or bladder…or some type of infection, and had to see a doctor.  They told her to undress; she refused, and would not be swayed.  After much discussion and some deliberation, they finally gave her an antibiotic and sent her on her way.   I’m not sure if she’s ever been back to a doctor.   She never had any kids.  I am not sure if the two events (or lack of events, as it were) are related.

As for me…I didn’t really have the thought to refuse, though refuse I did, at first.   A nurse, or most likely, an aide, brought me to a room.    Smack in the middle of said room was one of “those” tables, complete with stirrups.   She told me to undress, and she’d be back.   There was no lock on the door and no little curtain to hide behind.   What bothered me most, however, was the fact that there was no sheet.   No cover-up!   No little surgical gown, not even a paper robe!   No way was I going to get naked in that room and wait for ~whomever~ to open the door and~ whomever else~ in the hallway to see me perched like a hairless Chihuahua on the examination table!

Picture taken from PetDogLife

When the aide came back into the room, she said…”Oh, you haven’t gotten undressed.”   I am sure there was horror on my face.   There was certainly horror in my young and inexperienced heart.    She finally noticed that there was no sheet.    These days, you don’t get sheets, you get Kleenex.   Or paper gowns.   Same thing.   I survived the ordeal….just as I survived giving birth.   If you are unlucky, one day I will write about that.

Today, you are not so unlucky.

By the way, the doctor lady I’m going to visit next month isn’t even one of “those” doctors.


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