Need some gift giving ideas? Then read this!

Ready or not, here Christmas comes!  Let me be the first to say "Merry Christmas" to you.  Christmas brings a mixed array of emotions for all of us, and I've been thinking an awful lot about giving today.  After a conversation with a sweet friend, I was reminded that ultimately, Christmas is really all about giving.  I bet I know what you're thinking - you're thinking, yeah, yeah, we all get too caught up in the hustle and bustle of shopping, stressing out, spending out, etc.  But let's re-think this thing. 

It all started when God gave his only son, Jesus.  God gave.  He gave to us the most incredible, wonderful, unmistakably heart-felt gift in all the world.  It costs him so much, and costs us nothing.  When I think on that, really think about it, it makes Christmas a little sweeter, and not so materialistic.  However we have to accept the fact that we do buy gifts, and there lies a big stressor.  My gift to you, dear reader, are some suggestions of how and what to buy and maybe, just maybe, lessen your stress and put a smile on your face. 

First of all, remember that it's about showing your love.  A gift should say, I thought about you, I remember you and care for you.  When you struggle with what to get someone, especially that "hard to buy for person" or "the person who has everything" put a little thought into it.  Gift giving should be about nothing if it isn't about love.  Giving is a tangible way to show someone you care.  So first of all, think about the person.  What's their favorite hobby? Favorite color?  Are they a sports nut, health nut, of maybe just a nut?  smile  The point is, to think.  Think about the person. 

Let me be a little more specific.  It doesn't have to cost a lot.  What are you good at?  What's your hobby or talent?  Share it with others.  I have a friend who paints beautifully.  A hand painted flowerpot is one of my most beloved gifts.  Maybe you're a good cook.  If so, bake a cake and deliver it a few days before Christmas.  Believe me, that is a SWEET gift that many people would love!  Do you know a single mother?  What she needs is a break!  Offer to baby-sit while she goes shopping, and throw in a few bucks for dinner.  Or maybe she could use a gift certificate for an oil change, or something just for her, something she would never buy for herself.  What about the school teacher in your life that patiently teaches that little hard-headed kid of yours - how about a Gift Certificate to Books- A- Million or Target?  Teachers spend hundreds of their own dollars just buying things for the classroom these days.  What about your pastor or spiritual leader?  I seriously doubt that they really need another bible - but hey, a nice new tie might actually really be appreciated. If they're not a "tie" kind of guy (or gal) what about a nice card with some heartfelt words about how much you appreciate their efforts.  We all need to hear that - and they certainly do.  It may be just the thing to encourage him or her.  Tuck in a gift certificate for dinner, and now we're talking!  Are you getting the picture yet?

I actually have a friend whose husband has written a book.  It’s a good book too - funny, sad, thoughtful, and full of wisdom.  I plan on buying a few extra copies and giving it to some of my family members and friends who enjoy reading.  If you need me to give you specifics, I’ll be happy to share!  Just let me know.

Now that I think about it, some kind words of encouragement, tucked in a Christmas card will cost you almost nothing and may be the very best thing you can give.  Oh yeah, please don’t forget to give to those less fortunate this season.  Many are without a job; you won’t have to look too far.  Giving should make you feel good.  I promise if you just put a little thought into it – you’ll be coming up with great ideas all on your own! 

Giving is my thing.  It makes me happy.  I get it from my mama.  Giving should make you happy too.  The bible says, in Matthew, Chapter 7, “Which of you, if your son asks for bread, will give him a stone?  Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a snake?  If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!”  When I read this I am reminded of how much I love to give to my children, my girls.  This verse is saying that if I, a sinner (saved by grace), wants to give and finds pleasure in giving, how much more must God love us and love to give to us.  God gave.  He continues to give.  May you find joy and a little piece of Christmas magic this year as you give until your heart is content.       

Imagine . . .

       Imagine you are an eight year old little boy.  Go ahead and think back to when you were a kid.  Imagine you are not necessarily the greatest athlete, you've had your share of embarrassing moments.  There's even been a time or two when you were the last one to get picked for a team during P.E.  But you LOVE football.  Maybe you were too big, or too small.  Whatever the reason, most of us have felt inferior when it comes to sports at some time in our lives.  Now imagine you are on an Upward Football team.  What's Upward you ask?  So glad you asked!   Upward is a Christian based sports program that allows everyone to play.  Yep, everyone plays ,every position. 

     Now imagine that you've been to practice once a week for around 4 weeks and today is the first game.  Butterflies are swarming in your tummy.  You're all dressed out in your uniform, you line up by the field and loud music is playing.  You know the music - football music.  Music that makes even a girl like me have chill bumps.  Cheerleaders line up side by side forming a "tunnel" and over a loud speaker, the name of your team is announced!  "Are you ready for some football? Then let's welcome the Bulldogs!",  the announcer yells.  Then over the loud speaker you hear it - YOUR NAME!  You run through the tunnel, people are clapping and screaming.  In the back of your mind you know your mama's watching and you feel so proud.  As you continue through the tunnel everyone gives you "high fives" and you hold tight to your mouth piece.  Coach says you can't play without it and you've lost it twice already just this morning.  Then, after every single player and cheerleader take the field,  you go to the middle of the football field and take a knee.  And then, the referee prays.  He thanks God for this beautiful, sunshiny, yet very hot day.  He prays that everyone is safe.  Yes, I realize this is flag football, but hey, anything can happen when you put a group of 8 year old boys on the field.  And then it's time.  Coach calls your name and reminds you what to do.  You get to be quarterback.  You love the way the football feels in your hands, you even love the way it smells.  Imagine, you throw it and the other guy catches it!  Everyone yells and screams.  The runner zigs and zags and makes a touch down!  "Way to go Upward, way to go!" the cheerleaders yell.  Your coach tells you "good job" and pats you on the back.  Your mama's all smiles too.

     If you can imagine the feeling of being encouraged and built up, then you can imagine what Upward is all about.  Now, I will admit that I know very little about the rules in football.  But I do know about the heart of a little kid.  I know what it's like to be scared and nervous and unsure of yourself.  So that's one reason I love the Upward program so much.  The coaches are trained to encourage the kids.  A lot is said about a circle of criticism and how criticism tears kids down.  But encouragement builds kids up.  Now, all you true grit sports fans, hold on to your hat when you hear this one.  We don't keep score at Upward.  Yes, you heard right.  That has been a lot tougher on the adult volunteers, coaches and parents than it is on the players.  I know it sounds kind of outlandish but let's admit it - adults are the ones who sometimes ruin sports for kids.  Have you been to a Rec Football game in past 30 years?   I am willing to bet that every single one of you can think of a time when a parent showed his or her butt.  Well, that's one thing Upward won't stand for. 

     Are Upward coaches perfect?  Absolutely not.  But they work on it daily, and for some of us it's taken years to truly embrace the real meaning of Upward.  Is Upward for everybody?  Probably not, but it sure has given a lot of little 8 year old, awkward little boys a chance to throw a touchdown pass who would have never had that opportunity in other sports leagues.  I have lots more to say about Upward.  I must give equal time to my Upward cheerleaders!  But that's a good story for another day.       

Finding the Positive in Wrinkles

    Today as I waited in the drive-thru for my ice cream salad I looked ahead and noticed the girl working the window.  It was a girl that I graduated from high school with.  What was so shocking to me is that she looked EXACTLY the same as I remembered back in high school.  Now let me go ahead and confess that I have been out of high school for thirty - yes, 30 years.  Her hair was a beautiful shiny auburn, if it was from a box you'd never know.  Every hair was in place even as the wind blew!  Her complexion was creamy white and she was strikingly beautiful. 
     As I continued to wait, I raised my eyebrows to take a peek at myself in the rear view mirror.  There it was - the wrinkle just above my right eye.  I like to refer to it as "The Earthquake".  It's kinda like a backwards comma, deep and long.  I'm not sure exactly when it got so distinct, but it is there, and by this time of day, caked with make-up.  Not a good look.  I take my fingers and try to stretch it out, but no luck.  Then I notice the "laugh lines" around my mouth.  I fake a smile and see if they'll disappear but again, no such luck.  For added fun, I noticed a pimple on my cheek.  What am I?  14 or 49?  My hands grip the steering wheel and I notice my skin looks sorta dry and spotty.   My chubby fingers that my mama always said I would "outgrow" were as chubby as ever. Apparently mama was wrong - or probably she was just trying to be kind.   I begin to feel a mid-life crisis coming on right there at the Chick Fil A.  My heart starts to pound.  Crap!  Am I gonna have a heart attack right here?  I've never been a very vain person, but secretly I begin to wonder if my ageless, pretty class mate ever had children.  Blaming my kids on my gray hair always worked, so why not these wrinkles?  ;0)
     By this time, I am face to face with my old but beautiful high school pal and realize that I can't change a thing.  Yes, I have this pimple and wrinkles and I have ordered an ice cream salad in the middle of the afternoon.  All this causes me to think.
      I decided right then and there I just as well embrace my imperfections.  As a matter of fact, being the positive person that I am, I am going to find the good in them.  So, here's my thought.  If "The Earthquake" came about due to me squinting my eyes in the sun on my favorite beach in the whole wide world (Panama City Beach) then let it be.  The fact that I left my sunglasses back in the hotel room because those kids of mine were driving me crazy explains my forgetfulness.  See, I told you I can blame anything on being a mama. 
     If the laugh lines came from me laughing at my kids, grand baby boy, crazy friends, family, etc. then may they multiply.  Nobody loves to laugh more than I do.  I truly believe laughter adds years to your life - so may I laugh until I am very old and covered in lines. 
     I know for a fact that my hands are all wrinkled up because I use scalding hot water when I wash dishes.  Where's the positive in that, you ask?  Well... Praise the Lord I have dishes to wash.  I love every minute of cooking for my sweet family and cleaning up is just part of that.  Plus I think I have a touch of obsessive compulsive behavior and feel strongly that only the hottest water can kill the germs! 
     I am thankful for my chubby but otherwise functional fingers, and I am just happy they work correctly.  They have let me hack out a living working on a computer of some kind for the past 25 years.  Not to mention the hands I've held, the hugs, the love, massages, tickles, and praise they've allowed to give.  As for the pimple, well . . .  I got nothing.  Sorry, I said I was trying to be positive, not perfect! 

    When I smiled and paid my friend I told her how great she looked.   She laughed it off and said she'd be turning 50 soon. "Me too!"  I told her, and then she said something I won't soon forget.  She said "I kind of like getting older."  "Me too" I said again.  As I drove off I realized I wouldn't go back to my younger days even if I could.  However, if I could, maybe I would use that moisturizing cream more faithfully and I'd remember my sunglasses.  

September 19th

     Today is September 19th, my mama's birthday.  September slipped up on me this year as always, and has become bittersweet.  Perhaps more bitter than sweet.  She's been gone now almost two years and I always think that when her birthday comes around I will do something really awesome like have a cookout and celebrate her life.  In my plan I will light a candle or let some red balloons go in her memory.  However, since she's been gone I haven't been able to do any of those things.  As a matter of fact, just getting out of bed is the best I can do.
 
     She loved celebrations and even planned her last birthday here on earth to a grand scale.  But instead she wound up in the Hospice In-Patient Care unit, in and out of consciousness.  She knew it was her birthday, and she recognized people, but it was a hard, tough day.  I would rather remember her happier, healthier days.  My sweet Lindsey reminded me that she is much happier today in heaven and I truly believe that, but I still miss her here.  I miss her smile and her laugh and the way she called me "darling".  To this very day when something funny happens I have this thought that I need to call her.  And then it hits me.

     If she were here today I would have made a cake and Wayne would fry her fish and hush puppies.  I would have bought her a blouse from her favorite store (Belk's) and the girls would have gotten her fall wreathes and decorations.  She would have insisted on helping me clean up even though it was her day.  Now those are just dreams that make my heart ache. 

     Call me crazy, but sometimes I feel her presence.  I see her in Dalton's sparkle in his eyes when he giggles, in Dana's courage, and in Lindsey's strength.  While I'm at it and confessing my hysteria, I have this feeling that Dalton somehow knows her.  Maybe it's just because I love him so much and now I know exactly how she  felt for her grandchildren.  I didn't understand then, but now that she's gone, I totally understand and I think it is so unfair.  We could of shared that "grandmama love", but then again, between the two of us gushing over our perfect and beautiful grandchildren, the world probably just could not take it!

     The best I can do with all of this is try and love with all my heart and live each day with purpose.  I see God in every little aspect of my life and He has been with me all the way.  I am incredibly blessed to have had her for my mama and we enjoyed many, many happy days.  So today I put one foot in front of the other and simply say, "Happy Birthday Mama,  I love you."

Sweet Girls

The Old House

       Last week I had a meeting across town and I was actually early, so I decided to drive by our old house.  The "old house" is the term we've given the house that Wayne I moved into just about 6 months after we married.  It was a two bedroom, one bath, 900 sq. foot, little bitty house.  We moved in on July 4, 1980, just the two us.  It was a house filled with love and laughter and before too long, sweet little girls. 
     It was the house that we brought both of our babies home from the hospital.  Both times, I remember coming home to a house full of family and friends, a little bundle of pink lace in my arms.  My mama was always in the kitchen, cooking up a delicious lunch for all of us, something I miss to this very second.  
     It was the house that had a big magnolia tree in the front and the blooms would fill the whole yard with a sweet, sweet smell.  It was the house that had rich, dark soil in the back yard (unlike the red clay here at our home now).  Wayne had a garden each summer that took up two-thirds of the entire back yard. We had fresh butter-beans, tomatoes, peppers, potatoes, eggplants and much more.  Each summer we'd freeze enough veggies to eat on all winter, and enough to share with neighbors as well.  This garden is where Dana and her best next door neighbor friend, Matt, had the infamous tomato eating contest.  I am told by witnesses of this event that they ate the tomatoes right off the vine, to see who could eat the most.  Being the competitive child that she was (and still is) Dana won.  However, about midnight that night, she lost, if you know what I mean.  She got sick.  Real sick.  Thus the reason she will not eat a tomato to this very day! 
      It was the house where we were friends with  all our neighbors.  Our neighbor two doors down became like family to us, and kept the girls while we worked.  I was so blessed to have Mrs. Gruber and will be forever thankful to her for loving my family.  She is the person who invited Wayne and I to church, and even when we were hard headed and would not attend, she took Dana to AWANA's every Wednesday night.  It wasn't long before Wayne and I started attending also, and it changed our lives.  For the good.  Very good.
      It was a house of kool-aid and snacks.  I absolutely loved being the house that all the neighborhood kids could come to.  For years I made a pitcher of kool-aid every single day.  We had picnics and bunny rabbits and puppies and even a hermit crab once.  The girls learned to swim in our cheap-o above ground pool and jumped on the trampoline 'til dark almost every night.  It was the house that I actually hung clothes out on the line.  I remember one summer it was so hot, I could hang out wet towels and in thirty minutes they were completely dry!  Rough and itchy maybe, but dry! 
     It was the house where the linoleum was worn out in front of the oven in the kitchen.  Dana had started taking clogging lessons and LOVED to dance in front of the oven because she could see her reflection in the oven door. It was the house where little Lindsey would stand on the back porch and yell "Pissy, Pissy?"  She was calling our beloved dog, Prissy.  Her little lisp was so adorable.  It was the house where Lindsey would line up her baby dolls and "teach" them, scolding them for having a bad "attitude" which I found hilarous coming out of a 3 year olds mouth. 
   It was the house that got too small for a family of four.  One bathroom was not working out for three girls and one daddy, so we put it on the market never expecting to sell it.  Within a week a man and his son came and looked at the house and signed the papers that day.  Suddenly we were moving from our sweet little house, excited but sad all at the same time. 
     It had been a house of love and peace for both Wayne and myself.  Both of us grew up with alcoholic fathers and knew what it was like to live in a house filled with worry and fear.  Wayne promised me that he would never drink in fear of becoming like our fathers, and he kept that promise.  So I suppose the story here is it's not really about a house.  Big or small, it's the love that's inside that makes it great. 
     As I slowly rode by the old house, I felt a twing of sadness.  It was run down a bit, the grass was high in the backyard but I could see the girls old playhouse.  Mrs. Gruber's house still looked the same, but she is gone.  Gone much too soon after a hard battle with cancer, but she was such a sweet Christian woman, she now lives in a real mansion in heaven.  All these memories came crashing in. 
     When I got home that afternoon to our "new house" Wayne had just finished cutting the grass.  The yard looked amazing and manicured thanks to my hard working hubby and I was so thankful.  Thankful to God, not to have a bigger house (we've been here since 1991, it's no mansion) but thankful to still have a loving home.  Not a house.  A home.

My Marvelous Mixer

 Tonight I made chocolate cupcakes for a baby shower that I'm helping give tomorrow. As I dumped the ingredients into my silver mixing bowl I thought once again, as I always do, of Mrs. Gillespie. Madeline Gillespie is my best friend Carla's mother. Carla's family was like a second family to me when I was growing up. "Mr. and Mrs. G" as I now call them, were the perfect couple in my book. Especially back then, when my parents were divorced and my "real" life was pretty confusing. They accepted me into their home with open arms, and treated me like a daughter. I must admit that back then I daydreamed about them being my parents. They had a beautiful home, a good marriage, and were strong Christians. Of course my mother was wonderful, but I envied Carla's life and complete family. When I married, Mrs. G. did many things for me, like make my wedding cake right in her own kitchen. She is one of the smartest women I have ever known. For years she taught high school science, yet spent her "free" time sewing, baking, and making crafts. I always felt she really missed her true calling - that of a doctor. She certainly had the ability and compassion. And when I say she "baked" let me clarify. She would have homemade bread just out of the oven for our Sunday dinner after church. Now that I'm grown I have to wonder, 'how'd she do that?" She would make those sugar Easter eggs with delicate icing figurines. Again, when did she have time for that? I watched her use her Kitchen Aid mixer many, many times in her neat kitchen. She taught Carla and I how to make homemade jam one summer. And bless her heart, she tried to teach us to sew but we had boys on our mind and just didn't want to fool with that. I regret that now, but I don't think I would of been very good at it anyway. I did make one sundress, and somehow I made it so big, way too big, that I wound up giving it to one of my friends who was pregnant! ;0)

Mr. G. was quiet but kind. I remember he loved ice cream and cantaloupe - together! He clearly loved his family and was strong and smart. At the time - he was the only real Christian man that I knew. I really didn't believe there were any truly good men until I met him. To say I respected him is a huge understatement. Don't get me wrong; I know these folks aren't perfect. They had pain and loss and problems over the years just like everyone else. But they were so good to me and they really didn't have to be. They chose to let me in there life and I will be forever grateful.

Mr. and Mrs. G also gave Wayne and I a Kitchen Aid mixer as a wedding gift. We celebrated 30 years of marriage this past November and yes, we still have the same mixer and I use it practically every day. Still. Many, many years ago it went on the blink and we took it to Byron and had the engine rebuilt. Since then it runs like a charm. When I think of all the cakes, cookies, sweet potato soufflés, mashed potatoes, and egg white meringues I have whipped up in the past 30 years! And each and every time I use it I think of Mrs. G. I will NEVER be the wonderful cook that she is. But I do make things with love for my family and friends. I know Mr. and Mrs. G love me and I remember that every time I use that mixer. It was quite the extravagant gift back in 1979 and is still a treasure to me all these years later. I don't get to see Mr. and Mrs. G these days as much as I would like to. However, I know they love me and I hope they know how much I love and appreciate them. Some things you just never forget. For me, it just takes mixing up some batter.

Daily changes . . .

It never ceases to amaze me how many things can change in just one day. Time seems to drag along, same ole' same ole', and then BAM! Things change. Working at Hospice and knowing about other peoples pain and loss can sometimes causes a person to view "changes" as always bad. Change is not always bad. Even when it is bad to begin with, it usually works out. As a believer, I do KNOW that all things work for good to those who love God and are called to His purpose. However, that doesn't mean change is always pleasant.

I found out yesterday that a friend and coworker of mine is moving away - to Japan! Now buddy, when you move to Japan from Warner Robins GA, you have MOVED! She is so excited, absolutely giddy over this chance to "travel" and "see the world." All the while I feel sick. I will miss her. Selfishly I will miss her as a co-worker because in case you didn't know it, good, dedicated, smart workers are hard to find.

When my "C" came to work for us she was pregnant, but didn't know it yet. As time passed, we were privileged enough to share her journey of pregnancy with her. I'll never forget the day she came back from the sonogram with the pictures in her hand. She said to me, "do you see anything special?" I stared at the black and white picture, "uhhhhh what?" I asked. "There's TWO in there!" she said in a kind of calm yet shocked voice. OMG! Twins! It turned out to be twin baby girls and we loved being a part of all the excitement. Now, those little butter beans are two years old and I've been to both their birthday parties. The fact that I will not be able to go to their 3rd party makes me feel sad. It's funny, this "work friend" stuff. In most cases you have to be kind and friendly to all co-workers. That doesn't mean you spend time with them after work or that you really even like them at all. And let's face it - we spend more time with our co-workers than our own family during the week. But then there are those friends, like "C" that you don't just like, you love. So, my friend "C" will be leaving in August and I may never see her again. Thanks to Facebook, we can stay in touch, which is a blessing. But it will never be the same and for that reason, I am sad.

I am reminded of that silly, mushy poem about how certain people come into your life for a season and then leave. It's true I suppose. My friend "C" will never be the same either! Georgia will always be where where she spent her first few years of marriage, where he baby girls were born, and where she became born again. "C" accepted Jesus as her Saviour while living here. Although she was a spiritual person and believed in God, she had many good questions about salvation. She approached her questions in a way I'll always respect. She asked us. She wasn't afraid to dig in and ask the hard questions. And then one special day while attending the church of another of my co-workers, she did it! She accepted Jesus and became a Christian. What a change we saw in her life. She had always been a nice, sweet person - but now there was a change. A real honest to goodness change. Jesus can do that. I'm so happy that she made that decision. So regardless of Japan or where ever, we'll always be "family". I hope that she'll always keep "Georgia On Her Mind"

Darlin' Dalton Eats Cake (again . . .)

Sweet Darlin' Dalton eats birthday cake (again) Only this time so Aunt Lindsey can see it. He actually seemed to enjoy the taste this time. I think at his party he was a little overwhelmed with all the excitement!

Still a work in progress

Well, I'm still working out this blog. I consider myself pretty swift on the computer but not so much when putting together what I think is "me". I have to be patient and that seems to be the "word on the street" for me these days! (That comes from watching way too many Sesame Steet episodes this past weekend with my Darlin' Dalton.) Pictures to come if I can figure it out!

My First Blog

Wow. I always wanted to start a "blog" but wasn't sure why. I think it goes back to the days when I was young and kept a journal. It was something that I never keep doing for very long, and that was way before technology, email, facebook, etc. All I can say is "Wow" for now. Time has slipped by so quickly. I just turned 49. Unbelievable. How did I get this old so quick? "It just kind slipped up on me." (a line from one of my fav movies) Oh well, here's to a new idea.