Pondering

Two years ago today, I wrote a blogpost about my daddy and his watch.  It is one of my favorite posts, because it felt healing.  It still does.  Sunday is the second anniversary of his entry into Heaven.  I was blessed to be there when it happened.

I've been thinking about that year and how hard it was.  The last almost five years actually.  Somethings have been amazing!  Going to Europe three times.

Starting the Devotional facebook group has truly been a blessing, and we're about start a study for Lent.  I'm excited about this and what God is doing in our church.  People are enthusiastic!  I pray for the Holy Spirit to flow through me!

Despite all the positives recently, I've been thinking of my parents and sister a lot.  Sometimes those things are positive, sometimes they  just hurt. Sometimes when I look at pictures of Natalie, I almost can't breathe. But I look at them because I don't want to forget. Forget what?  I'm not sure. I'd like to only remember the joyful times, like our annual Christmas Uno game. But there is bitter mixed with the sweet.  These things make it hard to sleep at night... and that makes the days hard also.

I try to wrap these posts up nicely and come to a conclusion, but today I'm drawing a blank.  So I'll end by asking the Lord to bless you all and for Him to make His presence feel tangible to you today.

Being Spontaneous

If you know me, you know I am not a spontaneous person.

I do not enjoy travelling somewhere without a reservation.  I like knowing where my head will rest at night.  So backpacking through Europe and looking for a hostel to sleep in would have been a big NO in my youth and a definite NO now.  But if you'd like to go to Europe and need a companion to travel with, hit me up.  I love Europe - in a hotel with a breakfast bar and an espresso machine.

Instead, maybe I should call this post "following the prompting of the Holy Spirit."

A week or so ago (honestly, I don't remember), I was looking for some devotional material for Advent (it starts tomorrow - YAY!).  Now, I do this frequently - start something great, procrastinate, quit. Sound familiar? Did I make you uncomfortable? Yes?  Good.  I'm a teacher - it's my job to make you squirm.  HAHA.

Except I'm pointing the finger at me.

So I thought - I need a group to hold me accountable. So I did a little poll of my church friends on facebook and got enough of a response to start a private facebook group so we could do a devotional study together with me as facilitator.  Then people started inviting other people.  People I don't know... and  lot of them. I cringed a little inside.  What had I done?  What had I gotten myself into? 

Then God spoke to my heart. "You are doing exactly what you and these people need."  Big, deep breath.  I have been working as Discipleship chair at my church, trying to get people to come together to study, pray and commune together.  So, why was this different?  It's not.  Except it's me, and as a leader, I am not only accountable to myself, I am accountable to everyone in this group.

My son and I are wired a lot the same in this respect.  The sentence, "So, I just did a thing" means "I did something spontaneous and I'm uncomfortable about it, but proud."  So... I just did a thing. No - that's not right. God just did a thing in me, and I didn't procrastinate or try to delegate it to someone else, and I hope I make Him proud.

A 26 day reflection

This is a reflection of the last 26 days in my eating.
No - this isn't a food blog, but it may turn into one.  Another turning point in my life.

Some history for you:
I am genetically pre-disposed to type 2 diabetes.  My mother was diabetic, my grandmother was diabetic, many of my mother's cousins are diabetic and it is highly likely my sister was diabetic at the time of her death.  Becoming diabetic has always been a fear of mine, so I have yo-yo dieted and tried thing after thing after thing to only gain back the weight. 

My most successful time was in 2008-9 when I lost 50 pounds on Weight Watchers.  Learning portion control was my biggest gift from that time, but I quit it because I was always hungry and never satisfied.  Food was running my life. 40 of those pounds came back on.

In 2016, I decided to give up gluten to support my daughter who had made the same decision.  I can't describe how I felt with that change.  Wow. It confirmed a gluten sensitivity and I will never go back. I lost 30 pounds. That was just a side benefit of my improved health.  But I started substituting non-gluten items - baked things, full of sugar.  And I started gaining and noticed changes that were frightening.

I researched a good part of the month of December and on January 8th, I gave up sugar and simple carbohydrates. I guess you could call it a whole foods diet with added fat, but I call it how I want to eat forever. So what happened?  I no longer crave sugar or potatoes or fritos or chocolate.  Look at that last one.  I do not crave chocolate. Now - it is still my favorite thing to eat - but I don't need it.

Why - at the age of 50 is this so important?  The change in eating habits is what's important.  The mental clarity and the drastic and obvious changes in my health condition.  I feel better than I have in years. I cook more.  I'm cooking vegetables that I have never cooked before.  Ya'll... brussel sprouts... goodness.  They are amazing.  The body-wide inflammation that I deal with started to rapidly go away before my eyes.  No more edema in my legs.  I mean none. Except for a knee injury a couple of weeks ago, nothing hurts. Nothing.  I'm not tired in the afternoons and do not need a nap.  I sleep GREAT at night.

The statement that those who don't learn from history are bound to repeat it applies in our families.  I loved my family, but they were food addicts, driven by their cravings.  Cleaning out the house after my sister's death - I won't go into details - but her addiction literally bowled me over and broke my heart.  I had no idea it was that bad. 

My mother was diagnosed diabetic early in her 40's.  By the time she was 45, she was insulin dependent - a month before my wedding.  I remember taking her to the doctor and then to the hospital.  She did a very poor job of managing her condition.  I am determined to change that history for my family.  I want to be a healthy grandmother someday - able to play with my grandchildren and build happy memories with them.

This has also been a spiritual experience.  It's like God telling me: LOOK at all the things I gave you to eat. Eat those things. Yes potatoes and other things are God-created but they hang around me a little too much if you know what I mean. After 30 days I may add some of those things in to see how I respond but I really have no interest in them at the moment.   I am a work in progress and the Lord is working on my physical being. As the image-bearer of God (remember we are made in His image), it is my obligation to take care of the physical surroundings of that image.

A memorable birthday

In case you missed it, today's my birthday.  The big 5 - 0.  For some reason, this feels weirder than 40.  It is also the end of a phase of my life.

Thirteen years ago we bought a house in Augusta for my parents to live in.  My sister also wanted to live there so she helped by paying a small amount of rent every month.  They were weeks ago from having nowhere to go, so we stepped in.  At the exact right time, a handicapped accessible house was available - perfect for my wheelchair bound mother.  She loved the house but only lived there about six weeks before her death.

So it became home for my dad and sister.  They enjoyed it there and when my dad started dealing with aging issues, the handicap accessibility was nice to have.

Today we sold that house.  It needs a lot of TLC and the new owner is going to renovate it for someone else to love someday.  It wasn't very well cared for in those years but it did it's job anyway - keeping my dad safe and warm and comfortable.

If a house cared about feelings I would tell it thank you.  But mainly I'll thank God for providing the house when we most needed it and for finding a buyer for it when we thought it would drive us crazy.  And as God's timing would have it, we closed on the house today, my birthday, and turned over the keys to the new owner.

What a gift.

The things I treasure

Yesterday I spent the day helping as a crew emptied a house of its contents.  It is now empty.
The house isn't the one I was raised in - or even special memories.  The memories from that house are pretty rough and ones, although I'd like to forget, that will linger for a lifetime I suppose.

The house has a story, and I'll share it sometime, but the sorting, throwing away, donating process made me really consider what I treasured.  When it's my children's turn to sort through my possessions, what would they find?

They would find my grandfather Lonnie's pocket watch.  It still works 52 after his death.  I didn't know him, but I have a piece of him.

They would find my Big Daddy's book of lessons.  Also 52 years after his death, he is still teaching.

They would find my Big Mama's dishes and punch bowl. I might sell the punch bowl but it is really pretty... but those dishes... I ate a lot of meals on those dishes.

They would find my other grandmother's (Ma Butch's) monogrammed playing cards and fur stole and some pearls and her recipe for cornbread dressing which I'm going to try to make gluten free.

They would find my Fisher Price doll house (with the wooden people!) and two rocking chairs from my childhood.  I was walking into my  house with those yesterday and my husband commented about what I was carrying.  "I am carrying my childhood."

They would find lots of Bibles from my parents, grandparents, and one from a great-grandfather.  These are probably the greatest treasure:  a legacy of faith in Jesus Christ.

It's really not about the things. It's about what is significant about the things. They are part of my history - the fabric of who I am. They are a story of struggle and survival and faith.

There are many many things that I just grabbed and boxed and will sort as I have time, and as I am in the mood.  I have lots of musical things.  My mother's piano music, her piano (which is designated for my son), my dad's trumpet - (which is what I played),  the remains of my parents wedding china.

The process of sorting trash and treasure is rough.  As my husband told the crew yesterday, "This all belongs to my wife.  She makes the final call."  I liked the control but the responsibility was large and choosing to be a part of it, with trash bag in hand, was healing.

At some point, I'll go sort again, but for now I'm giving my feelings a rest.

Learning from my grandfather

Today I was reading the Sunday School lesson for tomorrow.  Helpful, since I'm the teacher...

The content is deep and I needed some help from a Greek scholar, so I called my daughter, who just finished five semesters of Biblical Greek.  She qualifies.

The content was also somewhat academic, and potentially dry, and given that it is from the book of Romans, it begged for some feeling.  So I sought the help of another family member - my grandfather, Roy Sims.

Big Daddy died in 1965, at the age of 53, two years before I was born.  So how did he help me?  Well, Big Daddy was one of the Sunday School teachers of the Men's Bible Class at Vidalia Baptist Church.  He wasn't an educated man by his own admission, but he was blessed with wisdom.  He would hand write his lesson based on the curriculum while on the road as a salesman and then my mother would type it for him when he was home.  While I was cleaning out my dad's house a few weeks ago, I found the notebook full of his lessons.  There were handwritten notes, a father's day card from my aunt and her family, and newspaper clippings.  I got to see his handwriting, not much different from my own,  and read his own words.  This man, who I resemble, since I inherited his ears and his green eyes, I had never known.  But, somehow, I have always known him.

I remember, as a child, standing in my grandmother's living room, staring at his portrait.  He seemed so old to me then.  I wondered what it would have been like to know him, to have a grandfather, to hear his stories, to feel his touch.  I'm a little bit of a day dreamer...

Today, I decided to pick up that book to see if he had any wisdom to share.  I almost read every word.  There were stories of his faith.  Stories about the faith of my great-grandmother and her love for Christ. Stories of people he loved.  His thoughts about the civil rights movement - ya'll - he LOVED EVERYONE and hated violence. He was a peacemaker.

He was so passionate about Jesus Christ.  Tell everyone - tell everyone before it's too late for them.  Jesus loves everyone. I read his words with tear-filled eyes, getting to know Big Daddy.  If he had been an educated man, I know he would have been a preacher.  What a heritage he gave to us.

I also learned that the radio station in Vidalia used to broadcast the lessons from the class (not just his) so the people at the nursing home could have a Bible lesson.

I would like to close with Big Daddy's own words, written in 1965:
"I am not an educated man, but I love my Lord, who saved my soul. I thank Him that I have been spared (he had previously had a heart attack) to testify for Him.  I have been on the road over 20 years.  I have many friends who are Jewish, Japanese, Chinese, and Negro.  And if I am to be the Christian He would have me be, I will be understanding.  I will love them. Everyone of every race are children of God."

I am proud to be the granddaughter of Roy Manry Sims and to be able to learn from him fifty-two years after his death. I am a teacher and I teach students from many nations (even at a small Christian school) and I will love them.  Everyone of every race.  My grandfather set an example that I am going to follow.

Last Words

I love Lent.  I'm serious.  What a great season to really touch on what is important.  I love the music.  I love the message.  I love remembering.  I love the tears turned into joy.  I love the whole thing.

My pastor has been preaching a series on the Seven Last Words of Christ and they have been just for me.  Not really, but it has FELT like it.  Forgiveness and Relationships and Family and Abandonment.  It has been perfect and difficult for the season of life that I am in.  It has made me think and pray a lot.

I know I am not alone but when I look at the piles of photographs my husband brought back from my dad's house, I am the only one left on this earth from those photos.  But the photos around my house, we are all still present on this earth.

I still have a lot of things to deal with.  Creditors to write and inform there is no money to pay bills - so sorry, but that's the way it is.  We have a house to clean out and sell.  I've got piles of memories to sort through as we go through the house.  I have no problem discarding things.  It actually feels good to me... actually great.  But memories can't be discarded.  Like things, some will fade.  Some are gone, but I know going through the stuff will renew some of those memories.  I'm trying to brace myself for the feelings.  Feelings are... well... not my favorite thing.

I don't really have any "last words" or a way to end this gracefully, except to say good night.  Or maybe like Scarlett, "I'll think about that tomorrow.  After all, tomorrow is another day."