Mother’s Day
Broom Tree Love
I’m not sure the reason, but as time goes by and I analyze the stats on my website, I have discovered that the post, “Broom Tree Love” seems to receive more viewers than any other. I’ve decided to repost it – especially for those of you who are new subscribers!
Broom Tree Love
“Neighbors bring food with death,” Harper Lee had written in To Kill a Mockingbird.
Treasures from the Woodshed
Daddy and Mama bought the big yellow house when I was 13 months old. Surrounded by red barns, white board fences, chicken coops, and corn cribs, the house sat on 80 acres of fields, pastures, and woods, bordering a creek. They paid $10,000 for it. Grandpa Nutt said they’d never live to see it paid! But my Grandpa was wrong.
The Poppies of the Field
Passersby stopped their cars. Some actually drove in the big circle driveway, walked up the steps to the porch, and knocked on the kitchen door.
“May we look at your flower garden?” they asked.
An Evening in Paris
The vibrant young couple one day became old. It wasn’t sudden, but it seemed sudden.
The years between the young and the old seemed to have passed quickly – sometimes in a moment’s time. The memories were sweet and good, yet sometimes sad. It was the sad memories that caused the aging, as is true of most.
A Welcomed Grace
Saturday, April 7, 2012
I awake early. It seems not a moment passes until I realize what today holds. The pain of the last days coats my face with huge wet drops and chokes my throat. Breathing is only possible if I stand. I cover my face with tissues and quietly move down the hall, peeking at my sleeping grandchildren, closing the doors of their bedrooms with the skill acquired from years of motherhood and now Nana-hood. Ron is making the coffee, while I step onto the back porch, a box of tissues in hand, striving to control my sobbing, distanced away from the sleeping ones. The sun shines through the trees and pierces my soul with the faithfulness of its Creator.
God used a “Bird,” a very beautiful “Bird”!
Brilliant. Beautiful. Graceful. Pleasant. Stately. Confident. Cocky.
“Cocky.” That’s the trait that ended Gary Hancock.
He couldn’t help being “cocky.“ That’s how God made him, the very peacock that he is (was). Through the years, I’ve witnessed the “cockiness” of the wild turkeys that strut our yards and fields – of the pheasant that crosses the road as though he owns it, which he does! Likewise, it was the innocent, stately, God-given confident “cockiness” that brought about Gary Hancock’s demise yesterday afternoon as he crossed the road he assumed he owned.
A House Where She Belongs
Daddy passed away first and Mama followed him just one month later. I’ve written about it before, and I’m sure I’ll write about it again. But today, I write about something they left behind
Dear Mother (in purple crayon)
I almost tossed it away – it looked so insignificant, written with a purple crayon, personalized with my favorite drawings: a tree on the front and a swing set on the back. But evidently it was not insignificant to her,
Whispers of Comfort ~ Seeking Peace Within This Pain
Death was not in God’s original plan, nor was it a part of the life He had planned for us in that beautiful garden. But Adam and Eve chose sin, and death followed. Consequently we all know the grief suffered by every human being since. He didn’t want it for us, but