"Patience" Waiting with hope.

Right now, a friend of mine is at the bedside of her mother, who is dying. Just last week another friend of mine lost her mother to a mean, fast acting cancer. People say you should never say “I know how you feel” because we never know exactly how another person feels. But in these particular cases, I do think I have an understanding of what these friends are going through. The bible tells us that this world is not our home, that this is our temporary home. As Christians we believe this fully, but this life is all we have ever known and because of that, we hold on tight.

One of the hardest things about our grief is that is seems so permanent. No amount of pain or tears will make our loved ones come back to us on this earth. But one day, we can go to them. So there comes the need for patience. Patience. Patience to wait and keep believing.

Recently we took a weekend trip to St. Simons, a place that is becoming my new favorite destination. My son-in-law spent many summers there as a child and has shared his love for the little island with us. However, traveling with a 2 year old is not much fun, so my Dana had the idea that we would leave at 9:00 pm at night and that way the baby would sleep on the trip down. Her plan worked perfectly and as she and I chatted and laughed the whole trip down, Dalton and Wayne slept like babies the entire trip. The condo that Dana had reserved for us boasted that they had the “best view on the beach” and we were anxious and excited to see it! After we arrived and unloaded everything it was almost 1:00 am and we were exhausted. I ran to the window and threw open the drapes to see the ocean – but it was pitch black dark outside. All I could see was what appeared to be dead grass or sand, and a few palm trees. I squinted my eyes, took my glasses off and back on again.  The ocean was nowhere in sight. I thought to myself that this place had no view much less the “best” on the beach. I sank in my bed tired and disappointed.

The next morning we all slept in until around 9:00 am. When I awoke, the sun was bright and shining in our bedroom like a spot light. I flung the covers off and run to the window and once again throw the drapes open, but this time, in the light of day, the view is indescribable. The ocean is perfectly still and glistening and what appeared to be dead grass the night before was the greenest, healthiest grass I’ve ever seen. I got Wayne’s attention and we were in awe. What we could not see in the darkness was now revealed in light of day and it was beautiful. That’s when I had my thought.

We can’t see the reason that things happen. Sometimes we feel like we’re literally in the dark. We question and wonder, and try to figure it out on our own. But the truth is we must have patience - patience to wait for the “Son” to reveal the rest of the story to us. One day, He will shine the light and our grief and pain will be gone forever, and what we see will be beautiful and indescribable. We will be reunited with those who have gone on ahead of us and what a bright and sunny day it will be. I suspect that day will make our beach view look like nothing in comparison. For now, we must be patient and wait. But praise God we do not wait without hope.

“But I would not have you to be ignorant, brethren, concerning them which are asleep, that ye sorrow not, even as others which have no hope. For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so them also which sleep in Jesus will God bring with him. For this we say unto you by the word of the Lord, that we which are alive and remain unto the coming of the Lord shall not prevent them which are asleep. For the Lord himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trump of God: and the dead in Christ shall rise first: Then we which are alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds, to meet the Lord in the air: and so shall we ever be with the Lord. Wherefore comfort one another with these words. 1 Thessalonians 4, 13-18

The view that the light of day revealed. 

Camp WINGS 2011

Most people that know me know that I work at Heart of Georgia Hospice. Next week, I will celebrate my 6th year with them! To say that I love my job is an understatement. I have loved it since the very first day and thank God for it.

I have certainly had jobs that I did not love - jobs that made me nauseous as I drove to work in the morning. One time I had a job where my supervisor (a woman) was a tyrant. She finally gave her notice and moved out of state, so we had her “going away party” AFTER she left the building! Once, I had a boss that climbed up on my desk and yelled, “I AM THE BOSS!” over and over again. I’m pretty sure that was the first time I ever hyperventilated! (If you don’t believe me, I have living witnesses to this event that will testify!) Years ago, I had a job that I had to memorize the price of every product in the store and take a test each week. If you failed the test, you got fired. Thankfully I was young then and never failed, but if I had to do that today I’d be in the unemployment line for sure.

For me, the difference in my job today and those jobs in the past is simple. At Hospice we help people. People who are hurting. People who are facing tragedy, and need someone to tell them it’s going to be okay. At the end of the day, I feel like I was a small part of the whole that helped our community. Being surrounded by angels doesn’t hurt either. On a daily basis I work shoulder to shoulder with nurses, social workers, nurse assistants, chaplains, and administrative people who do things that are indescribable, undesirable, and sometimes just plain unbelievable. If I didn’t think people would think I was bragging, I would hang a sign over the entrance door in our office that said “Through these doors walk some of the finest people that ever walked the face of the earth.”

Our mission at hospice is that we give quality care to our patients, their families, and our community. One example of our community outreach is Camp WINGS. Camp Wings is a bereavement camp for children ages 6 - 16, who have lost a loved one. Camp Wings is designed to help children understand that their feelings of grief and loss are normal. With the help of trained counselors, social workers and volunteers, the campers will have a safe and supportive environment in which to express their feelings. Children enjoy arts and crafts, outdoor games, and great food and fun! However, what makes this camp different are the trained counselors who work with the children, split in groups based on age, and go through therapeutic sessions.

This will the 11th year that we have taken children to "Camp WINGS." Here at Heart of Georgia, we service 10 counties. However, any child who can get to camp can attend, regardless of where they live. Camp WINGS is for ANY child who has lost a loved one, not just children whose loved one was on our program. Many of the children represented are disadvantaged youth. These are kids who have lost mama, daddy, sisters, brothers, or grandparents. Many are from families who struggle financially as well as emotionally. They have never had an opportunity to attend a camp, much less a camp that would help them deal with their grief.

Now that you know this, will you help us? We need people to sponsor a child at camp. It goes without saying that during these tough economic times, raising money ain’t easy. We figure that it costs approximately $150 for one child to attend camp. Again, there is no charge to the camper and their family. We depend on people like you to help us. I’ve attached a “widget” to this blog. You should be able to click it and make a donation. Any amount will help. If the widget doesn’t work (and it may not because I set it up and got all kind of confused) just call me (953-5161) and we’ll figure out another way. Help us meet our goal and in the process you will be helping a child who needs some TLC. Also, if you think you might like to be a volunteer, call me! I will put you to work and you will come away blessed!

Camp WINGS 2011
Nov. 4, 5, 6, 2011
Camp Echeconnee, Lizella GA

My Mary

It’s funny how memories pop in your mind. After finishing the book “The Help”, I suddenly remembered what I think may be my earliest memory.  I am very little and it is very cold outside. Our “help”, Mary, puts my red coat on me and literally stuffs me in a light blue stroller. I am maybe two, and so happy, we are going outside, even though she said it was too cold outside for me. I suspect I pitched a fit and she gave in. :0)  We go out the door and down the long driveway and hit the road! She pushes me down the road, about a mile, down the hill to my Uncle Mercer’s store. It was a little country store – dark brown wood on the outside, nice and warm on the inside. My Uncle Mercer goes over to the cooler and gets me chocolate milk, “Borden’s”, in the brown and white carton. It was so thick and sweet! Lord it’s no wonder I’m a diabetic now! Then Mary gets me M&M’s. She digs her money out of her bra, pays and off we go! I munch on M&M’s and she pushes me back home, around the sharp curve on Longstreet Road, uphill this time. She is huffing but we make it home safe and sound. Later I remember mama telling Mary to stop spending her own money on me – that she would leave her some money for my “snacks”.  My Mary, our “help”.


We were NOT rich, but back in the day, almost everyone had a maid or babysitter. My mama worked on the Base in Warner Robins and to my knowledge there were no daycares back then. Mama picked Mary up every morning and took her home in the evenings. I would ride with mama in the afternoons to take Mary home to a little wooden shack just up toward Danville. Mama used to tell me that it would sometimes make her feel sad because I would cry when Mary got out of the car.
Mary loved to watch “Dark Shadows” and I wanted to watch it with her - but it scared me to death. (I’ve always been a scardy cat.) Mary would make me a “tent”, a sheet draped from the coach to the coffee table and I would peek my head out, watch a little and then jump back under the tent when Barnabus Collins “woke up.”

She sang to me and taught me lots of songs. One of her favorites was a song that went, “Will the Circle, Be Unbroken”. She’d tell me to sing it and then she’d clap and tell me how pretty it sounded. She actually brought a tape recorder (those were big back in the 60’s) and taped me singing it! She said she wanted her children to hear how good I could sing! Now I wonder, maybe they giggled a little bit at this little white girl singing to the top of her lungs. All I know for sure is this - she made me feel special.

If I think hard, I can still smell how Mary smelled when she held me and sang to me. She smelled like Starch, fresh and clean. She could iron like no one I’ve ever seen. Even as I got on up older, she would be at my house waiting on me when I got off the school bus. That ironing board set up in the living room and her stories on the T.V.

Now, you talk about somebody that could cook – my Mary could cook. She made dinner for us every day. I can literally taste her country fried steak to this very minute. She’d make the gravy and then put it all in the black frying pan and let it cook on low all afternoon. Country fried steak night was all our favorites. When I got older she taught me how to make spaghetti and chocolate fudge.

Now my daddy, he was mean most of the time, and took to the drink if you know what I mean. My daddy used the “”N” word like it was nothing and even from my earliest age, I remember how it disgusted me. I always knew it was wrong and that he was ignorant. The way he talked made me nervous, nauseous and embarrassed. I hear people say that folks can’t help how they are – that they were “raised up that way.” I don’t believe that. I have to believe that my Mary taught me that the color of your skin meant nothing if have love. Today I realize that maybe my Mary was doing the same thing that Aibileen, the character in the book, did for her baby girl – speak good things to her every day and teach her about love.

It never occurred to me that Mary may have felt used or unhappy. I hope I was never bossy or acted like a little brat to her, but I bet I did sometimes. She was never anything but good to me. I loved her and I knew she loved me. As I got older, mama let me go home after school alone and even though I thought I was all grown up, I remember being real lonely. I missed Mary but was too proud to say so.

Racial problems and prejudices are certainly better now than they were in the 1960’s, but we still have a long way to go. One of my favorite lines in the book was when Skeeter says, “we are just people, not that much separates us.” I believe that whatever does separate us, can be filled with love and that love can make us one. And I believe that my Mary taught me that a long time ago.

(Me when I was a little over a year old)

He prayed for us!

I went to church this past Sunday, but I have no idea what the preacher said.  Now, before you judge me let me explain.  I was at church but I was in the nursery - loving on babies, changing diapers, picking up toys and wiping runny noses.  So therefore, I missed what I am sure was a very good message and I heard through the grapevine that I missed some good music too (I really hate I missed some good ole hymns!)  However, the Sunday before I heard a message that really got me thinking.  Since this blog is supposed to be about my “daily thought” I feel compelled to write about a subject that has caused me to “think” every day since the sermon.   Our pastor, in preparing for Easter, has been preaching on the weeks and days before Jesus was crucified and resurrected.    I know I’ve heard a similar message before, I had even taken notes in my bible – but I had FORGOT that Jesus prayed for us in the garden.  How I could forget such a wonderful fact is beyond me – but I didn’t remember. 

In John Chapter 17 you can read the whole prayer.  There Jesus was, praying, knowing for sure that he is about to be killed.  He prays for his disciples who he knows will be left behind when he is gone, but literally asks God to be with “not just these alone, but for them also which shall believe on me through their word”.  That means that as a born-again believer, he was praying for me and you.   Now I won’t even pretend to understand this all, a theologian I am not – but the realization that Jesus prayed for me and you, blows my mind.  Here’s why – it doesn’t take a rocket scientist theologian to know this – if Jesus prayed and asked God for something, it’s gonna be answered.  I mean after all, he is Jesus and he is praying to his Father.  It's so extremely complex and yet so true.

We all know that God does answer our prayers, but sometimes the answer may not be what we want.  That’s because we may ask for something that is just not in God’s will.  Maybe God says “wait” or maybe he says “no” altogether.  But if Jesus prays and asks God something, it has to be God’s will - because he is God.  He knew no sin; his heart was pure and perfect.  I don’t understand it all, but I believe it. 

I love Easter.  I love the colors, the eggs, the bunnies, all of it.  For the past few years Easter has kind of pierced my heart because I missed my mama so bad.  She loved Easter too, and made it so pretty and special.  However, this message, on an average Sunday morning has made Easter even more special to me.  Not only does Easter remind me that Jesus did indeed die on the cross for my sins, but even before he died, he was praying and asking God to be with me and protect me from the “evil one” (satan) and much, much more.  You’ll just have to get your bible out and read it yourself.  It’s good stuff.  So, my hope is that you are encouraged to know how very much Jesus loves you and me, so much that he prayed for us.  If ever a prayer was answered, we can rest assured this one was.  Happy Easter.