Over It

Sunday morning we were in Mt. Vernon, Texas and heard Dr. Scott Camp speak at First Baptist Church.  He preached a full-on salvation message – something I haven’t heard in a long time, and I realized how much I miss hearing about salvation and being in a service where people realize they need Jesus and come forward and accept Him into their lives.  I don't even know how many people came forward and accepted the gift of salvation yesterday, but there were a lot!  Being in that service reminded me of days long ago, sitting in my home church in Garland, Texas and listening to Bro. Gary (AKA Dr. Gary Coleman) preach, reading the Scriptures and telling how Jesus died for each of us, begging people to get saved before it’s too late.  In today’s modern society, which has somehow managed to make its way into our churches (which isn’t always a bad thing), sometimes I find myself really missing those days, and I often wish I’d paid more attention to my preacher.  The truth is, sometimes I really miss those hell-fire-damnation messages because, although they were confrontational  and assertive and made people uncomfortable, I know he was speaking the truth according to Scripture and because of such messages, I have absolutely no doubt about where I am going when I die.

Anyway, in his sermon on Sunday morning, Dr. Camp mentioned how there are those in the service who were raised in church and became a Christian early on in life and have “gotten over” their salvation - I guess it convicted me more than I thought because I'm still thinking about his message.  I’m guilty of this….if I weren’t, wouldn’t I be telling everyone I come into contact with about Jesus?  It’s easy for me to talk about praying for someone, and about how blessed I am, about how good God is…..all these generalities with people I see and meet every day…. but why is it so hard for me to stop what I’m doing and tell someone about the greatest gift ever given? 

So, I’ve thought about praying that God will give me the courage to “witness” to everyone I meet, and the knowledge of how to bring this personal, sometimes awkward, subject up in conversation with complete strangers, but what if He actually answers this prayer?  What will people think of me then?  Will I be labeled the Jesus freak?  Will people avoid talking to me at all?  How will it affect my friendships and relationships with family members?  All of these questions start running through my mind, and then finally, one question pops up and lingers….

Why do I care about what people think and what label people put on me and how my relationships will be affected, when what I should be caring about is where these people will go when they die?  What if no one ever tells them how they can have absolutely no doubt about where they will go when they die? 

Romans 10:14 says, “But how can they call on him to save them unless they believe in him? And how can they believe in him if they have never heard about him? And how can they hear about him unless someone tells them?”

As of right now, 2 things are clear to me:  1) I do take my salvation for granted, I don’t think about what Jesus did for me on a daily basis and I’m incredibly ashamed of that and need to change that about myself, and 2) to keep this gift to myself and not share it with others that I meet on a day to day basis is incredibly selfish.

“How can they hear about Him unless someone tells them?”  I need to be that “someone”….I need to pray that God will give me courage to speak up and say, “I’m not ashamed of the gospel of Christ, for it’s the power of God unto salvation”.

God help me to get a true burden for those who don’t know you, and help me to never “get over” my salvation.

Storm

I’ve avoided writing about this, simply because it’s just too difficult.  It’s not fun or pleasant to write about the tough situations we are going through in life.  I’d much rather write about fun, happy  things, but the reality is, even though we are Christ followers, and live daily in the knowledge that there is nothing we go through that is not first cleared with God Himself, the fact remains that life is hard.  The Nagle family has been going through some hard times for the last year or so. 

My husband’s father passed away early last year, my husband was diagnosed with non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma last June and completed several weeks of radiation.  He is now in remission, for which we are so grateful, but we still have that looming thought, “When is it going to come back?” in our minds every day.  In February of this year, my husband’s brother, Bill, was diagnosed with nasopharyngeal cancer.  The doctors said it was in Stage 4.  He has undergone massive amounts of chemotherapy and radiation, but the cancer has spread.  It has now taken over not only his throat, but his lungs, sternum, spine, and brain.  He had a stroke Friday. They performed surgery Saturday morning to drain fluid from behind his right eye, so that some of the pressure could be relieved and to allow him to move his eye again.  He made it through the surgery, and as soon as he is stable, they will send him home.  He is now on oxygen and there is talk of putting him on a ventilator.  Arrangements are being made for hospice to come in and help take care of him once he gets home.  They are giving him 6 months to live.  My brother in law is 64 year old.  His cancer, according to his doctors, is a direct result of being exposed to Agent Orange while he was serving our country in Vietnam.

From the left:  Bill Nagle, Jeremy Nagle, and Mike Nagle.  Sitting is Bill Nagle Sr, also known as “Pops” to Bill and Mike, “Pap” to Jeremy.

I will share parts of a letter that I sent to my family members this morning:

“Mike is leaving early tomorrow morning to go to Salisbury, Maryland, where Bill lives.  He has a connecting flight in Charlotte, NC, where he will meet his sister, Bonnie, who is flying in from Tampa.  Together they will fly to Maryland.  He is planning on staying until Sunday.  As he started packing last night, we talked about the possibility of Bill passing away while Mike is up there, at which point he will just stay for the funeral.  He had to pick out a suit, tie and shirt, and I will take those up there with me for the funeral if I have to go up alone.  That was very hard for Mike, but he knew he needed to do it, just in case.  I’ll take them to the cleaners to be pressed, so that everything will be ready.”

 To say that my husband is devastated is a huge understatement.  This latest report on Bill is overwhelming for him, and it has him wondering how much more he can take.  My letter to family ended with this:

“I feel totally helpless, and I worry about how much more he can take.  If I could just do something, anything, to ease his pain, just for a little while, I would gladly do it.  This man, who consistently gives to others, needs relief, needs comfort, needs strength, and there’s not a thing I can do to help him.  I can only pray, and ask others to pray with me.  This man I love needs prayer right now, he needs the saints to go to the Father and intercede on his behalf for peace and strength and comfort.  I need to know that the people I love most in this world will do this for me, and for Mike.”

I cannot begin to tell you how much it means to me that I have a family that I can freely go to and ask for prayer, knowing that immediately they will stop what they are doing and approach God the Father with our requests.  I know that I take this for granted, having been raised in a Christian environment, but I will always be eternally grateful for my brothers, sisters, children, nieces, nephews, and in-laws who pray for us, and with us. 

I'm also taking this opportunity to ask that if you read this, you will pray for my husband, Mike, and our family.  We are people who believe in the power of prayer, and right now, we need all the power of prayer we can get.  Thank you.  May God bless each of you.

Home

Moving into a new home is exciting!  In my mind, I’ve gone into each room and decided where I want to put each piece of furniture.  I also know where I’m going to hang some of my pictures.  We have booked movers for the big day, and have begun the awful, terrible chore of packing.  I’ll just say it right now, I hate packing.  The only good thing about packing up a household is that you get the opportunity to go through all the junk you have accumulated for years and throw some of it away.  Yesterday, I found myself taking pictures of different things with my cell phone and sending them to my kids, asking, “Do you want this?”.  I was thrilled when they said “No”, that meant one more box I can toss out and not have to move.

This past week, one of my friends from high school faced a terrible loss – her Daddy passed away.  I’ve known my friend and her family for over 30 years….her Momma already went to heaven several years ago, now her Daddy has made that journey as well, and she and her brothers are heartbroken, but he is Home.  As I was packing yesterday, I was thinking about my friend’s dad, and how he got to move right into his mansion that God the Father has prepared for him, and he didn’t have to pack a thing.  One thought led to another, and I got to thinking about my brother, Jeff, who passed away almost 15 years ago.  I miss him so much, but I am comforted by the fact that I know I will see him again someday, and that when I make my  own journey home and into my new mansion, I won’t have to pack a thing – I can just move right in and begin my eternity praising the One who died for me.

I dreamed of a city called Glory,
So bright and so fair.
When I entered the gates I cried, "Holy"
The angels all met me there:
They carried me from mansion to mansion,
And oh the sights I saw,
But I said, "I want to see Jesus,
The One who died for all."

Chorus
Then I bowed on my knees and cried,
"Holy, Holy, Holy."
I clapped my hands and sang, "Glory,
Glory to the Son of God."
I bowed on my knees and cried,
"Holy, Holy, Holy."
Then I clapped my hands and sang, "Glory,
Glory to the Son of God."

As I entered the gates of that city,
My loved ones all knew me well.
They took me down the streets of Heaven;
Such scenes were too many to tell;
I saw Abraham, Jacob and Isaac
Talked with Mark, and Timothy
But I said, "I want to see Jesus,
'Cause He's the One who died for me."

Chorus
Then I bowed on my knees and cried,
"Holy, Holy, Holy."
I clapped my hands and sang, "Glory,
Glory, Glory."
I clapped my hands and sang, "Glory"
I clapped my hands and sang, "Glory"
I clapped my hands and sang, "Glory"
"Glory to the Son of God"
I sang, "Glory to the Son of God."

I Want to Live Like That - In Memory of a Godly Man

We all think about it from time to time.....what will our funeral service be like?  What will people say about us when we are gone?  Will our loved ones remember more good than bad about us? 

 I'm thinking about this today because my husband's boss, Tim Benners, was tragically killed yesterday morning, on his way to work, in a motorcycle accident.  He was also my brother, Brad's boss, and very close friend, for 2 years.  I never got to meet Tim, but everything my husband and my brother has said about him has been good.....more than good, actually.  It's not only that he was a good guy, a nice guy, a funny guy, a good friend, a spiritual mentor.....he was a Godly man.  A Godly man.  Right now, I can't think of any higher compliment from someone on earth.  A Godly man....someone who is like God. 

One of my husband's favorite quotes is this: "We may be the only Bible some people will ever read". 

I'm reminded of this song:

Sometimes I think
What will people say of me
When I'm only just a memory
When I'm home where my soul belongs

Was I love
When no one else would show up
Was I Jesus to the least of those
Was my worship more than just a song

I want to live like that
And give it all I have
So that everything I say and do
Points to You

If love is who I am
Then this is where I'll stand
Recklessly abandoned
Never holding back

I want to live like that
I want to live like that

Am I proof
That You are who you say You are
That grace can really change a heart
Do I live like Your love is true

People pass
And even if they don't know my name
Is there evidence that I've been changed
When they see me, do they see You

I want to live like that
And give it all I have
So that everything I say and do
Points to You

If love is who I am
Then this is where I'll stand
Recklessly abandoned
Never holding back

I want to live like that
I want to live like that

I want to show the world the love You gave for me
I'm longing for the world to know the glory of the King I want to live like that
And give it all I have
So that everything I say and do
Points to You

If love is who I am
Then this is where I'll stand
Recklessly abandoned
Never holding back

I want to live like that
I want to live like that

Thank you, Tim, for the Godly example you set while you were here on this earth.  May you rest in peace.  For Tim's wife, Wendy, and the rest of your family, please know that Mike and I are praying for each of you.

Even though I never met Tim Benners, his life, and his death, has had an impact on me, simply because of what others have said about him when he passed away.  The testimony he left behind makes me want to strive harder to be Godly....not because I care so much about what people will say about me when God calls me home, but because I want to be an accurate account of the only Bible some people will ever read.

Word of God Speak

Psalm 46:10 says, "Be still, and know that I am God"......

Sometimes, we don't need to talk, we don't need to say anything at all, we just need to hear from God.  This is one of my favorite songs from Mercy Me.


"Word Of God Speak"

I'm finding myself at a loss for words
And the funny thing is it's okay
The last thing I need is to be heard
But to hear what You would say

Word of God speak
Would You pour down like rain
Washing my eyes to see
Your majesty
To be still and know
That You're in this place
Please let me stay and rest
In Your holiness
Word of God speak

I'm finding myself in the midst of You
Beyond the music, beyond the noiseAll that I need is to be with You
And in the quiet hear Your voiceWord of God speak
Would You pour down like rain
Washing my eyes to see
Your majesty
To be still and know
That You're in this placePlease let me stay and rest
In Your holiness
Word of God speakI'm finding myself at a loss for words
And the funny thing is it's okay

This morning, I took a couple of minutes and just listened to this song, all the while praying that God would speak to me - just to me - it's amazing what a couple of minutes of silence on our part can do.

All that I need is to be with You, and in the quiet, hear Your voice.

Words

This morning on my way to work, I heard Matthew McConaughey doing a Reliant Energy commercial.  I have to admit, I do like hearing his voice!  He said, “Say what you will about Texans, but we sure can turn a phrase”.  It’s true.  Nobody speaks like a Texan.  Come to think of it, nobody thinks like a Texan.  We are a tad bit proud of our heritage, and rightfully so.  I've spent a good bit of time trying to explain the meaning behind some of the things I say to my husband.  I'm not sure if he will ever catch on, but he does try.  I've even caught him saying "y'all" a few times!  Being married to a Yankee, I’ve learned that we say things around here that no one else in our great country says, nor can they understand the meaning of some things we say without a translator. 

Things like:

Fixin’ to, as in “I’m fixin to do the laundry”.

I used to could, as in “I can’t run as fast as I used to could”.

Dadgummit, Dangit, Dadblameit: these are euphemisms that allow you to express your feelings without actually swearing.

Tank – what northerners call a pond.

Pallet – a pile of blankets and quilts placed on the floor for company to sleep on when all the beds are taken.

Yankee/DamnYankee – any person born north of the Red River.

We also say things like this when we want to be really descriptive:

She has the personality of a box of rocks.

Ugly as homemade sin.

Having a hissy fit.

Dumber than dirt.

This got me to thinking about words.  Words are powerful things.  It’s been said that “the pen is mightier than the sword”.  When my kids were growing up and were fussing at each other, I used to remind them to watch what they say to each other.  You can always come back later and apologize, but you can never truly take back the ugly things you say to someone.  It will always be in the back of their mind. 

How many times have we said things to people when we are angry or hurt that we wish we could take back?  Proverbs 16:24 says, “Pleasant words are like honeycomb, sweet to the soul and healing to the bones”.   We can destroy someone with a string of ugly things hurled at them in anger, but we can also heal someone with words said with love. 

No matter how we say it, no matter what euphemisms are used or what kind of accent we have, our words have power.

Psalm 19:14 says, “Let the words of my mouth, and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in thy sight, O Lord, my strength and my redeemer”. 

To honor God with my life is truly my heart’s desire.  Today, I will concentrate on the words that come out of my mouth, and pray that they will, indeed, be acceptable to Him. 

Clean

I’m one of the weird people that actually like cleaning house.  There’s just something therapeutic about it – almost like gardening.  Not long ago my husband bought one of those Shark steam cleaner things for tile and wood/laminate floors.  At first I wasn’t sure if I was going to like it or not, because you can only put water in it - no PineSol or LySol or Mr. Clean – when I clean I want my house to smell clean as well as look clean.  To my surprise I absolutely love this thing and will probably wear it out in no time. 

I spent all day this past Saturday cleaning house and doing laundry.  I had finished everything and only had to steam clean the tile floors.  I filled up the Shark steam cleaner container with water, plugged it in, selected “scrub” on the dial, and waited the 60 seconds it takes for the water to heat up.  While the water was heating up, preparing to turn into steam, I eyed my kitchen floor – it was filthy.  I couldn’t wait to run that steamer over that tile floor, cleaning and sanitizing it – just the anticipation of how clean my kitchen floor was going to be made me almost giddy.

Yes, I love cleaning, and yes, I realize I’m weird and there is probably a very technical, medical term for this ailment – don’t judge.

As I ran that steamer over the floor, up next to the baseboards, I hummed a little tune, watching as the steam and pressure cleaned and sanitized my grimy kitchen floor.  You can imagine my surprise when, as I was doing the floor in front of the pantry, a bug came wriggling out of somewhere between the baseboard and the floor.  There I stood, holding the Shark steam cleaner and staring at this bug that was crawling all over my newly cleaned floor, when another bug came out of the same place, then another.  I guess the power and the heat from the steam was too much for them.  I killed those 3 bugs and made a mental note to tell Mike that it is time to exterminate again, and went on to tackle the living room floor.

While cleaning the living room tiles, I got to thinking about those bugs, and how I never would have seen them if I hadn’t been steam cleaning that floor.  They were there all along, I just didn’t know it.

 The power and heat of that steam not only cleaned all the surface dirt on contact, but it also brought those nasty bugs that were hiding underneath the floor to the surface pretty quickly as well, and I was able to get my floor as clean as possible. 

It reminded me of the power of the blood of Jesus.  When we acknowledge and accept the fact that Jesus was the perfect Son of God, who actually chose to die for us so that we could live forever, and ask Him to come into our heart and take over our lives, His blood automatically covers our sins – all of them, not just some of them – not just the bad things on the outside that everyone can see, His blood reaches deep into our heart, into the secret places that only God Himself knows about, and He cleans it all up, bugs and all – every bit of it – we’re justified through Him.  The Bible says that He washes us white as snow.  There’s not a place in our heart that the blood of Jesus cannot reach – His blood has that much power. 

When the Father looks at me, He doesn't see all my wretchedness and sin, he only sees the blood of His Son, which has cleansed me and made me white as snow - Isaiah 1:18.

I can’t tell you how, just writing about this, makes me feel.  My eyes are filled with tears, I am so grateful that the Father would love me enough (who am I?) to send his perfect Son to die for me, and I’m humbled by the fact that even though I don’t deserve it, I’m going to live in heaven, in a mansion, that God Himself built especially for me.  I’m going to be able to see Jesus face to face, I’m going to be able to laugh and hug and visit with my family and my friends who are already in heaven.

I’m going to live forever, and it’s all because of one thing:

The blood of Jesus washes me……the blood, it is my victory.

Anniversary

Today is my 4th wedding anniversary.  In 4 short years we have gone from being a couple with 5 kids between us, to being a couple with 5 kids, 2 sons in law, and 2 grandbabies with another one on the way.  Mike and I have both gained brothers in law, sisters in law, and parents in law.  Last year Mike lost his dad, he was diagnosed with cancer, and this year his brother was diagnosed with cancer and isn't doing well at all.  Like everyone, we've had our ups and downs.

One thing I can honestly say about my husband is this:  he is constant and stable, he is the same, no matter what he's going through.  His trust is in God, he believes that no matter what happens, it's all because God the Father is allowing it.  I'm reminded of that song "You Are God Alone".  The chorus says:

You are God alone
From before time began
You were on Your throne
You are God alone

And right now
In the good times and bad
You are on Your throne
You are God alone

Last week, someone asked me, "what makes you feel safe?".  Immediately I answered that knowing my husband loves me unconditionally and that he will never leave me makes me feel safe.  I never have to worry about going through any of life's surprises, whether good or bad, alone, because I know Mike will be right there beside me.  This makes me feel safe.

In this way, my husband reminds me very much of God. 

Mike is a man after God's own heart.  We laugh together, we pray together, we cry together - he is my friend, my lover, my husband, the one man I want to spend the rest of my life with. 

To say I am grateful that God put him in my life is a gross understatement.  There are no words to describe how grateful I am, and how much I truly love my husband - not because of what he does for me, but because of who he is inside. I've honestly never, ever met a better man than he.  And to think - I get to spend the rest of my life with him! 

Happy Anniversary, Michael J!  I love you!

 

My Favorite Bible Story

So the story goes like this…..King Nebuchadnezzar made an image of gold – a big ole statue that measured about 90 feet high and 9 feet wide, and called all the leaders to come to the dedication of this statue.  During this dedication, it was decided that every time the people heard certain music being played, they would stop what they were doing and bow down in worship of this image.   Whoever did not obey this decree would be thrown into a fiery furnace.  Music played – people bowed – all was good, with 3 exceptions.  The Chaldeans happened to notice that there were 3 people in particular, Jews that had been set over the affairs of Babylon, that refused to bow and worship this statue.  Of course, these loyal Chaldeans had to report this to the King.  This information infuriated the King, and he summoned the 3 rebels to ask them if what he’d heard was true, and to give them one more chance.   Their reply is found in Daniel 3:

16 Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego replied to the king, "O Nebuchadnezzar, we do not need to defend ourselves before you in this matter.

17 If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to save us from it, and he will rescue us from your hand, O king.

18 But even if he does not, we want you to know, O king, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up."

Ok, wait right there.  Verse 17 says, “the God we serve is able to deliver us..”  Our God is able.  I know this, in my mind, I know this.  Sadly, being the worrier that I am, I don’t always act like I believe this.  They go on to explain to the King that not only is their God able to deliver them, He will deliver them from the King’s hand.  Whether God chooses to deliver them, and they continue living on earth, or if God chooses to let them perish in the flames and they go to heaven, they will be delivered.

 It’s a Win-Win situation for them either way.  Talk about blind faith – they were pledging allegiance to a God they had never seen – They hadn’t even felt the presence of the Holy Spirit yet, this event happened before Jesus came and the New Testament was written, which makes it even more amazing to me.  Pure, unadulterated trust in God gives them the strength to tell the King to take a hike – they’re not bowing to his statue.

Wow.

This really makes the King angry, and he orders the furnace to be turned up 7 times hotter than usual.  Then he orders his strongest guards to tie up the 3 men and throw them into the furnace.  The Bible says that the flames of this furnace were so hot that it actually killed the soldiers who threw the men into it.  I’m wondering….what were these 3 Hebrew children of God thinking during all of this?  When I get to heaven, I’m going to track them down and ask them.  It’s on my list.

My mind is boggled by their unwavering faith.  But wait, there’s more.

So, the King sits back and watches the furnace.  He sits down, looks at the furnace, then jumps to his feet.  This is how the conversation went:

24 Then King Nebuchadnezzar leaped to his feet in amazement and asked his advisers, "Weren't there three men that we tied up and threw into the fire?" They replied, "Certainly, O king."

 25 He said, "Look! I see four men walking around in the fire, unbound and unharmed, and the fourth looks like a son of the gods."

26 Nebuchadnezzar then approached the opening of the blazing furnace and shouted, "Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, servants of the Most High God, come out! Come here!"   So Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego came out of the fire,

 27 and the satraps, prefects, governors and royal advisers crowded around them. They saw that the fire had not harmed their bodies, nor was a hair of their heads singed; their robes were not scorched, and there was no smell of fire on them.

28 Then Nebuchadnezzar said, "Praise be to the God of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, who has sent his angel and rescued his servants! They trusted in him and defied the king's command and were willing to give up their lives rather than serve or worship any god except their own God.

 29 Therefore I decree that the people of any nation or language who say anything against the God of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego be cut into pieces and their houses be turned into piles of rubble, for no other god can save in this way."

Every time I read this story I feel like I’m going to have a “Pentecostal Fit” – are Baptists allowed to do that?  I’m just kidding…..but seriously, something inside me almost bursts when I read this story and I see, once again, how God delivered these 3 men.  How can you help but get excited when you read about something like this!  Not only did God save their lives, he untied them, sent an angel to be with them, allowed them to walk around completely unharmed – shoot, they didn’t even smell like they had been around fire. 

Our God is able. 

God is God, and we are not.  He is able to deliver us, and He does, again and again. 

God, give me the faith of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego.

Cleo

She had the most beautiful head of hair I’ve ever seen in my life – thick, white as snow, always “fixed”.  To go along with her gorgeous hair, her skin was flawless – not a pore in sight, perfect tone and color, even though she was no longer young.  She always had a smile and a friendly greeting when we went to her house.  “Well hello, Brenda Sue!” That’s what she would say to me, always followed by the question, “Are y’all hungry?”  Of course we were hungry, we were kids.  She always had those orange sliced candy in old, beautiful, covered candy dishes on the coffee table and end tables in her living room.  My brothers, cousins and I ate all of them.  She always had more.  I have very fond memories of spending the weekends at her house.  On Saturdays, we would go to Greenville and little by little, everyone else would show up too.  My aunts and uncles and cousins would pile into that old house on Pine Street.  It had two bedrooms downstairs and a huge bedroom upstairs with several beds in it.  My cousins, brothers and I would play outside until it got dark, then we’d come inside and watch TV or read or play games, while the grownups were gathered around the kitchen table, playing a loud, rowdy game of 42.  On Sunday morning, we would wake up to the smell of breakfast cooking downstairs – bacon, sausage, eggs, biscuits, gravy.  After we ate, the kids would go outside and play while Cleo and her husband, Jim, would sit in their chairs and watch Jimmy Swaggart on TV.

She wasn’t perfect, she had her faults, but she was always ready to help her family when they needed her.  Whether they needed a temporary place to live, help buying groceries during tough times, or a listening ear, she was there.  She also had a sharp tongue and a strong opinion.  If a thought popped into her head, it usually made its way out of her mouth – whether you wanted to hear it or not, it came.  If she thought you looked nice, she told you.  If she thought you’d gained weight, she told you.  If she thought that wearing your tennis shoes untied because it was the style made you look like a thug, she told you.  I’ll never forget the time we all gathered at her house and had to eat supper on paper plates because she had gotten angry with Jim and thrown all the dinner plates at him, breaking everyone of them.  That still makes me laugh – maybe because that mental picture is just plain funny, maybe because I would never have the nerve to do something like that no matter how I’d been hurt, and I secretly wish I did.

To me, she was the epitome of a strong, Southern woman.  She named her kids decidedly Southern names like Jimmy Don, Linda Ann, Billy Ray, Betty Fay, Mary Laverne, Barbara Jean.  She worked hard all of her life – out in the cotton fields when she was younger, out on the farm, later on she worked as a nurse’s aide, taking care of sick people.  There was nothing she couldn’t do.  She was so smart.  She was so strong. 

Often, when someone makes me angry, I threaten to “go all Cleo on them”, meaning I am fixing to tell them just how it is and what I really think.  I truly believe that Cleo was the original Madea – sometimes I swear Tyler Perry modeled the Madea character after Cleo.  I tell my family that when I turn 50, I’m going to let the Cleo in me loose so they better get ready!  Of course, I’m kidding, but only partly.  The truth is I could do worse than to try to be more like Cleo.  This was a woman who loved her family, all of them, unconditionally.  Although there were times of trouble and hurt feelings between them, as often happens in a family as large as hers, her home was always open.  So was her heart.  I think she was a passionate person who loved God and felt very strongly about things and didn’t mind telling you about them.

The older I get, the more I think about her.  I often dream about her.  I’d like to be like her in many ways.  I know I won’t be, simply because I’m not as strong a person as she ever was, but I’d like to take all those good things about her that I admired and apply them to my life.

She was there. 
She was so smart.  She was so strong.  She was so Southern. 

She was my grandmother - my Granny Buck.  The older I get, the more I miss her.

Two Simple Things

This morning on my way to work, I was thinking about that New Testament passage in the Bible that says that there are two things that Jesus commanded us to do, but I couldn’t remember exactly where it was.  I Googled it (what did we EVER do before Google?) and this is what I found.  Luke 10: 25-29 says this:

²⁵And, behold, a certain lawyer stood up, and tempted him, saying, Master, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?
 ²⁶He said unto him, What is written in the law? how readest thou?
 ²⁷And he answering said, Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy strength, and with all thy mind; and thy neighbour as thyself.
 ²⁸And he said unto him, Thou hast answered right: this do, and thou shalt live.
 ²⁹But he, willing to justify himself, said unto Jesus, And who is my neighbour?

I stopped right there and snickered to myself.  Jesus is giving this guy only two things to focus on:  Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, strength, and mind.  Oh, and one more thing:  Love your neighbor as yourself. 

Sounds pretty simple, right? 

But that wasn’t enough for this lawyer.  He poses the question, just to be clear, “Who, exactly, is my neighbor?” 

Jesus goes on to tell the story of the Good Samaritan to make his point to the lawyer, but as I went back to re-read this passage, starting with verse 25, I kept stopping at verse 29. 

 ²⁹But he, willing to justify himself, said unto Jesus, And who is my neighbour? 

Willing to justify himself….that’s so typically human.  We want to do what we’re supposed to, so that we can justify ourselves, but not a bit more.  Not even a smidge more.

Again, I’m convicted. 

I try very hard to do what is right, both in God’s eyes and, admittedly, in the eyes of others.  But how much is really expected of me?  And who, exactly, is my neighbor?  I’m reminded of the fact that everything we have is given to us by our Father (James 1:17).  Mike and I work hard for what we have, but in reality, we are able to work hard to obtain what we have only by the grace of God.  Why, then, do I neglect to share our resources with others outside of our family?  I’ll admit that when I see someone in need, most of the time my immediate reaction is “How can we help them?”  I’ll also admit that I don’t always follow through, even though I have good intentions. 

I realize that there are more ways to love my neighbor as myself than by meeting physical needs through financial support.  What about just taking the time to listen, to be there when someone needs emotional support?  It's been said that spending time with someone is one of the greatest gifts you can give them.  Time.  It's a precious commodity these days, one that I waste alot of on a continuous basis, it seems. 

The question, for me, boils down to this:  How am I using everything God has given me to love my neighbor as myself?

Loving God with all my heart, soul, mind and strength is easy for me.  If my goal in life is to be like Christ, then loving my neighbor as myself should be just as easy.  I'm thinking that if you truly love someone, even a neighbor that you don't really know, you show it through words and deeds.

This is something that's going to be on my mind for a while, I imagine.  I have a deep desire to be like Christ, and I think working on these two simple things might be a really good place to start. 

I wish it was as easy as it sounds.  Starting today, I'll be praying that God will give me the mind and heart of Christ.

I Rest My Case

I love Southern Gospel music - I was raised on it, I never get tired of hearing it, and honestly, listening to the Cathedral Quartet albums (albums - remember those?) over and over is how I learned to sing harmony.  My little brother, Bubba (his real name is Brian but never in my life have I ever called him that - besides, he just looks like a "Bubba"), is one of the most amazing high tenor singers I've ever heard.  This past weekend, I found an old CD of his when he sang with The Crusaders.  I brought it to work and saved it to my computer.  I've listened to it twice, but I keep getting stuck on "Track 8".  I can't stop listening to this song - I'm humbled and overwhelmed by the fact that Jesus loves me enough to go before the Father continuously and plead my case.  The part of the song that always gets me is when it says:

This covenant is binding
By His blood and His word
Every time I’m in trouble
My case will be heard

The video below is the Perrys, singing "I Rest My Case at the Cross". 

There’s a covenant sweet
It was written for me
It’s a promise that I could be here
From all my sin and my shame
Even heartache and pain
It was signed and confirmed on a hill

So I rest my case at the cross
For now I have someone to champion my cause
I’ve been justified, satisfied, oh I have it all
So I rest my case at the cross

Don’t feel sorry for me
When you see I’m in need
There’s a judge who grants mercy and love
All my burdens he lifts
All my sin he forgives
Every trial is one through the blood

So I rest my case at the cross
For now I have someone to champion my cause
I’ve been justified, satisfied, oh I have it all
So I rest my case at the cross

In the cross
In the cross
Be my glory ever

This covenant is binding
By His blood and His word
Every time I’m in trouble
My case will be heard

I’ve been justified, satisfied, oh I have it all
So I rest my case at the cross

Thank you Jesus!

A Sow's Ear

For years, I’ve had acrylic nails put on my fingernails.  My natural nails will grow but they are so thin and weak that they break off down to the quick once they get to a certain length.  I usually have these fake nails taken off right after Christmas, just to give my real nails a break, and then have the acrylic put back on toward the end of March/first of April.  It was time for me to have them reapplied, so Saturday I did just that.  As I was sitting in the nail salon, watching Tracy perform this service for me, I watched as my short, ugly, unattractive nails turned into something pretty, clean, beautiful.  In about an hour she was able to transform my unsightly nails into something really very pretty.  As Tracy worked, I began to think of other things that can be changed by covering them.

It’s been said that you can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear.  While that might be true, I believe that you can probably make a purse out of pretty much anything, even the ear of a pig.  Bedazzle the heck out of it, and it might turn out to be pretty cute!  But in the end, when it’s all said and done, what you really have is just the body part of a pig, covered in jewels and sparklies.

What about something else…..what about…..sin?  I was reminded of that old hymn:

“What can wash away my sin?  Nothing but the blood of Jesus.  What can make me whole again?  Nothing but the blood of Jesus.”

I looked down at my nails.  One hand was almost done, and Tracy was starting on the other hand.  As I stared at the completed hand, nails covered in acrylic, buffed and polished, they were beautiful.  I thought "that’s what Jesus’ blood did for me".  It covers my dreadful, wicked, sinful self, so that when my Father looks at me, all he sees is the blood that Jesus shed, making me beautiful, making me worthy to be looked upon by God Almighty.  In about 3 weeks, I’ll have to go back and see Tracy, so that she can fill in the gap between my cuticle and my nail, caused by my natural nail growing. 

When I was in college, I was in a trio.  One of the first songs we sang was “The Blood Will Never Lose It’s Power”.  The first verse says:

The blood that Jesus shed for me,
way back on Calvary;
the blood that gives me strength
from day to day,
it will never lose its power.

Just like these acrylic nails cover the imperfections of my natural nails, the blood of Jesus covers my sin – no matter what I do, how much I get off track from time to time, His blood never loses the power to cover my sin, and to make me acceptable in the sight of God.

For this, I will be eternally grateful.  For this, I will praise Him all of my days. 

On Death

One night this past week, my mom, my husband and I were sitting in my living room, talking about death.  I said that one of the things that bothers me so much about getting older is the fact that death becomes so much more real – probably because as I get older, the people I know get older and pass away.  All of my grandparents are already gone, and I was really sad at their funerals.  However, I was not prepared at all for the way the passing of my brother, Jeff, affected me.  Jeff was only 32 years old when he died, unexpectedly.  He had a brain aneurysm that suddenly burst.  We were living in Nashville at the time, and I have to tell you, that 12 hour drive home seemed to last forever.  I begged my sister in law to just please keep Jeff alive (he was on life support) until I could get to him.  She did, but when I walked into that hospital room and saw him lying there, I was taken back.  His body was there, but he wasn’t.  The day we buried Jeff was the saddest day of my life.  That was 15 years ago, and not a day goes by that I don’t think about him.  As I sat in the funeral service, I kept thinking of I Thessalonians 4:13:

But we do not want you to be ignorant, brothers, about those who have died, so that you may not grieve like other people who have no hope.

I had heard this verse in church most of my life, but it didn’t take on real meaning until that day.  As I’ve gotten older, I’ve seen others pass on to be with the Lord, and I’ve watched as many of my loved ones have had a close brush with death.  My father in law passed away last year, my husband was diagnosed with lymphoma, and now my brother in law has been diagnosed with a rare cancer.  We are getting older, and death is part of the natural cycle of life.  As my mom, my husband and I talked the other night about it, this verse came to mind again.               

                “…so that you may not grieve like other people who have no hope.”

What a comfort that is! We have the hope, and the promise, that we will see our loved ones again.  This morning on the way to work, I heard Jeremy Camp sing a song on the radio, and the chorus goes like this:

There will be a day, with no more tears
No more pain, and no more fears
There will be a day, when the burdens of this place
Will be no more, we'll see Jesus face to face.

As I listened to this song, I thought about my conversation this week, I thought about Jeff, and my heart was filled with gratitude, knowing that one day, I will be reunited with those I love who were lucky enough to have gone to heaven before me.  Below is a picture taken many, many years ago of my brothers and me - Jeff is the one standing up in the back.

Jeff, save me a seat right beside you – after I talk to Jesus, you and I have a lot of catching up to do!

Here's the video of "There will be a day" by Jeremy Camp