Field Trips with Terry, Part 4

Here’s a little video of us after leaving Watson Pavilion. As you can see, it was a dreary, wet and cold day but I am so glad we decided not to allow the conditions of the day to stop us from adventuring together.

In a later blog, I will continue about our trip and add another video or two.

https://vimeo.com/32702971

Sometimes in life, we allow the circumstances or conditions of the day to keep us at a standstill. We allow our emotions to dictate what we do or even how we react. The reality is the choice us ours. We can live as a victim or we can live as a victor. Sometimes, it is just putting ”one foot in front of the other” and walking out the door. Our hope rests not on what is but on what is yet to come!

”But thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord, Jesus Christ.” (1 Corinthians 15:57

Field Trips with Terry, Part 3

Our next stop, Watson Pavilion, which houses more ceramics, a Japanese Tea Room and portraits of the Washington-Custis-Lee Collection. They were working on a new exhibit so we found ourselves in the portrait gallery. I was reading about the people in the portraits while Terry was looking.

One of the stories the guide had shared previously was about Martha Dandridge, who would later become Martha Custis, and then Martha Washington. Apparently, Daniel Parke Custis struggled to find a suitable wife or at least one his father would approve for him to marry. That is until he fell in love with Martha Dandridge. Considering he was one of the wealthiest men in Colonial Virginia, Martha was lucky to receive the approval of Daniels father, John.

Daniel and Martha had four children in their seven years of marriage but only two of the four survived into adulthood. In 1757, Daniel died. He died without a will, Martha and the two surviving children were granted one third each. Daniel’s death made Martha one of the wealthiest women in Virginia.

It is believed that George knew both Daniel and Martha prior to his death. George and Martha were married a little over a year after Daniel’s death. Although they never had children of their own, George and Martha raised her two children and would later raise their grandchildren as well.

Anyway, as we were gawking at the paintings, I said to Terry, ”Look, Daniel was quite a plumpy little man. Maybe Martha just married him for his money. He’s not a looker.

Terry’s response to me, ”Well, he must’ve married Martha because of her big boobs!. Just look how big they look in the portrait. I mean, you can’t help but notice. Maybe that’s what ole George was thinking too.”

Honestly, it’s a wonder we didn’t get kicked out because I swear, I howled. Up until that point it was so quiet a mouse could be running the floors, you know, library quiet, and it was a dang good thing they weren’t hosting a Japenese Tea party. Oh, my, we had to get out. We were disturbing the peace and I really don’t think it was appreciated 😂

Y’all this is the crazy live with day after day and I tell you, it’s like a very fine wine and gets better and better with time.

Field Trips with Terry, Part 2

Before exiting the Lee Chapel, we were told about two other buildings on campus we should visit, The Reeves Center and Watson Pavilion.

In the Reeves Center, you will.find the Reeves Collection. The collection is a vast array of ceramics made in Asia, Europe and the Amercias. Some.pieces date back to the 1500s.

In their collection are pieces of this china used by George and Martha Washington. This particular collection was only used during his Presidency.

Also in the collection is this bowl This punch bowl was made in China. Its painting tells the story of trade during the 1800s. It’s truly a magnificently detailed piece.

That’s not exactly what caught my attention as much as what our guide said. ”Do you know that many hands made and painted this bowl? It was not made or painted by one set of hands.”

I just have to stop and say, I’ve considered and mulled over that statement for almost a month now. It had quite a profound impact on me.

My initial thoughts, ”Wow! How awesome that many hands made such an exquisite piece of artwork. It’s so intricately designed.” I pondered on that formed while.

Then the lightbulb switched off and on again. This time I wasn’t thinking about the many hands that made the punch bowl. I found myself thinking about the same hands that made the folks who made the punch bowl are the same hands that fashioned me.

Stay with me on this.

God is the creator of all humankind. “Then the Lord God formed man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being.” Genesis 2:7

The very same God who formed Adam formed me and you. I don’t know about you but that makes me feel special, exquisite, unique.

God could have used his angels to make us. He could have used many hands, just like they did with the pottery. That’s not what he did. No, no no. He used the same hands to form and make us all.

His hands.

The beauty is that we are all different. We are all unique. There are no two humans on the earth that are exactly the same, not even identical twins. And yet, we are all made by the same pair of hands.

The Divine hands of the Father.

Field Trips with Terry, Part 1

A few weeks ago, Terry and I made another trip to Lexington, VA. While we didn’t have quite the adventure of driving in circles Read here like we did last year, it’s never without adventure. In fact, life with Terry is an adventure. It’s just how we roll.

Considering the weather was quite the norm we’ve been accustomed to this winter, cold, rainy, and yucky., we didn’t want to stay cooped up in our hotel until Amy’s track meet began. So, we decided to make a visit to the Lee Chapel https://www.wlu.edu/lee-chapel-and-museum. Terry is very fond of Robert E Lee and wanted to learn more and I love history.

Interestingly, it was Robert E Lee, as President of Washington University, who saw the need and had a vision for this chapel. As the number of students began to grow at what was then called, he saw and increased the need for a building to house the student body in one location for worship and assembly. The construction completed in 1868, and the same day it was inaugurated, commencement services were also held in Lee Chapel.

They held chapel on a daily basis and it is said that Lee attended every day and sat here.

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After chapel, Lee would then retire to his office in the lower section of the building. According to our guide, this is precisely how Lee left his office. She said the only thing different is the carpet and the tablecloth, everything is just as he left it before his death in 1870.

We were not allowed to use the flash inside the building and this is about the best I could do with my phone. My favorite piece in his office is this one.

As I was commenting on the details of this exquisite piece of furniture, talking with my hands and I often do, I apparently got too close to the alarm. Set the darn thing off and the sweet lady I was talking with said, ”You’re a little too close. You’ll have to back up.” Never thought my talking arms could cause such a raucous. Terry snickered and acted as if nothing happened, Didn’t matter much anyway because we were the only ones there.

Upon Lee’s death on October 12, 1970, he was buried in the basement of the Lee Chapel.

There are many other pieces of history we discovered in just a few hours timeframe, and I will be sharing more along with pictures and maybe, just maybe, I’ll throw in a Terry video.

I Am One Of Those

“Oh, you’re one of those!” my friend exclaimed as she watched me withdraw my hand from hovering over her cooktop. Cackles from the other women in the room with us told me, they too, understood what my friend was saying.

Let me give the full context of what happened. We were at our friend’s lake house for a weekend with about fifteen other couples. Several, at least seven of us women, were in the kitchen preparing the meal. I noticed the light remained on the cooktop after my friend turned it off. In fact, I kept watching for it to go off. At the time, I wasn’t familiar with smooth top cooktops. Anyway, I questioned my friend about the light that seemingly had no end. She explained that it was the cooktops way of telling her that the one or more of the burners were still warm and the indicator light would go off when the surface was cool.

Well, that darn thing intrigued me. I knew not to touch an electric burner and I also knew that a gas burner doesn’t remain hot for long once the heat is gone but this little indicator light says, “Don’t touch. The surface is hot” has now been on at least five minutes and I just really need to feel it. I mean at least get close enough to feel see if it’s still warm. As my hand inched closer and closer to the surface, I could begin to feel the heat rising. To be honest, it didn’t feel that hot until I almost touched it. I came close but I backed off at the last minute.

By this time, my friend was watching intently and made her observation.

To her and the other cackling chicks, I replied, “You’re right, I am one of those that have to learn the hard way. I doubt the warnings and most often proceed full steam ahead without caution. I do get burned a lot.”

That incident happened the better part of 15 years ago. I have to say, for the most part, I now heed warnings. I don’t go near things when there are indications I might get burned. However, it’s because for the first, more than half of my life, I had to learn the hard way.

Sometimes I wonder if my life would be more carefree if I had been the rule-follower instead of the rebel. I seriously doubt it. Life comes with complications. It’s not easy. Let’s face it, life can be downright hard. It can be hard because I am not in control. I don’t get to choose which way the wind blows. It can blow in my face with uncertainties pummeling like sand being thrust in my face. It can blow at my back pushing me in a direction I don’t want to go. It can also be hard because of my poor choices, that rebellious spirit in me.

The truth is, at heart, I am still rebellious. It’s ingrained into my very being. It’s part of what makes me, me. I’ve just learned (and still learning) to temper my rebellious nature with more thoughtful consideration or how my choices will affect me as well as others. The truth is, the decisions we make will have an impact on others. Yes, they’re our choices but be aware others will feel the effects, good or bad. Therefore, I try to consider the ultimate outcome before I plow ahead of the indicators and warnings to touch something that may burn me.

But in truth, if I really find myself intrigued by something, it’s impossible for me not to be drawn in closer and closer. That is why I have to stay firmly rooted and grounded in God’s word. It is life-saving and has proven to be life-altering.

Maybe my rebellious spirit is the very thing that God uses to remind me of my humanity and that I am only one poor choice away from destruction.

What I want to remind you today is that we’re all in the same boat. It doesn’t matter if we’re rule-following people pleasers or if we’re wild, rebellious, footloose and fancy-free, we are all one choice away from destruction or disaster. And this is why it’s so important to know the truth of God’s word. To claim the truth of God’s word and to set free by the truth of God’s word.

“The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me because the Lord has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, to set the oppressed free.” Luke 4:16

A Glorious Day

As I sit waiting for the dryer to stop, my mind has drifted into another time and place. Well, technically the place is practically the same and maybe that’s why my mind has escaped the reality of the present and drifted into the past.

I remember vividly as if it happened yesterday, and yet it was at least 15 years ago, possibly more. I know for certain I journaled it. I’m just not certain where that journal is right now, but when I find it, I’ll post it

It began like all mornings. Terry and I up before the crack of dawn or the rooster’s crow. In order to get him off to work by 6:30 am and get the 4 kids up and ready and out to door by 7:15 Besides being a necessity to rise early, some days those few stolen moments were the quietest of my day. I treasured them. I longed for them. I needed them.

For weeks leading up to this day, I had been struggling with the kids ns their attitudes. One thing to note, I’ve mentioned it before, but it’s worth mentioning again. I do not have compliant, non-opinionated, willfully obedient children. They all have strong personalities. I remember journaling about the difficulty I was having with discipline. I felt as though one or all four head-butted everything I asked them to do. Most times, they would concede because I was far more stubborn and bull headed but not without a fight.

Anyway, this one particular morning. I was journaling and pouring my heart out to God. I was sitting in my room with tear-stained eyes because I just didn’t think I could handle it anymore.

As I’m wiping away the tears, I hear the creaks in the wooden staircase, indicating that someone was coming upstairs. As I pull myself together, Matthew peers into the doorway, ran into the room and bounces on my lap, in a single bound. Yep, like Super Matt. He wrapped his arms around me and looked out the bedroom window. He looks at me and glances back to the window exclaiming, ”My what a glorious day!” Turning my head, I peer through the window and saw it too. A magnificent sunrise beginning to spread across the dark sky.

Yes, indeed a glorious day unfolding before me, I just needed the eyes of my child to remind me.

As I continue to ponder that day, I am reminded of how many times I cried out to God and He brought me peace and joy and reminders of his goodness through the lives of my children.

Do you know when we cry out to God in earnest plea, He turns his ear, and hears and answers the deepest cry of our heart?

In your righteousness, rescue me and deliver me, turn your ear to me and save me. Psalm 71:2

The key to this verse is recognizing the righteousness of God and believing that He alone has the power to rescue, deliver and save. Oh friend, don’t keep drowning in your sorrow. Cry out to Him. He will gladly come to your rescue, maybe in the form of a child.

Fascinated by the Sky

I have a fantastic fixation, likely an obsession, with the sky, clouds, sunrises, and sunsets. Truly sometimes I find myself just driving around to catch the last glimmer of daylight in the sky. I also love to watch and observe shapes the clouds form in the sky. I have seen a host of things from angles to horses and even a white puff of fluff that looked like my dog. Heck, I even have Terry seeing things in the clouds now.

I don’t know what precisely what fuels my obsession-compulsion; however, when I gaze at the sky I find myself encapsulated with its beauty and I say, ”Wow, God. You made this for me!”

The first mention of clouds is when God set the rainbow in the sky and promised to remember His covenant and not destroy all life again. ”I have set my rainbow in the clouds, and it will be the sign of the covenant between me and the earth. ”I have set my rainbow in the clouds, and it will be the sign of the covenant between me and the earth. Whenever I bring clouds over the earth and the rainbow appears in the clouds, I will remember my covenant between me and you and all living creatures of every kind. Never again will the waters become a flood to destroy all life. Whenever I bring clouds over the earth and the rainbow appears in the clouds, I will remember my covenant between me and you and all living creatures of every kind. Never again will the waters become a flood to destroy all life.” Genesis 9:13-15 (NIV)

Again clouds are mentioned during the time of Moses and the Israelites,
”By day the LORD went ahead of them in a pillar of cloud to guide them on their way and by night in a pillar of fire to give them light so that they could travel by day or night.” Exodus 13:21. The cloud of the Lord was their protection. When the cloud stopped, they stopped. It served as their protection. In the same way, God used the fire by night to guide them. This way they weren’t limited to the times they could travel.

But quite possibly my favorite verse pertaining to clouds is the following

It is such a great reminder to me that one day God will right all the wrongs. He will not leave the guilty unpunished but He will be patient and give everyone time to change their hearts and minds. This isn’t a weakness. There is greatness in His power to be long-suffering. He will bring reconciliation and restoration when true repentance is sought. His methods are not ours but when wrath comes it will be swift and quick. He doesn’t play. He’s not giving idle threats. And the Pulpit Commentary says the following, ”The clouds are the dust of his feet, Large and grand as the clouds look to us, they are to God but as the dust raised by the feet in walking. As an illustration of this statement (though, of course, the fact was utterly unknown to Nahum), it has been remarked that recent scientific discovery asserts that clouds owe their beauty, and even their very existence, to the presence of dust particles in the atmosphere. The aqueous vapor, it is said, condenses on these particles, and thus becomes visible.

Maybe in writing about my fascination, I am discovering that in looking upward, I stand more in awe of Him and I am more fixated on where I am going and not where I am.

Halloween Shenanigans

A few years ago I decided to make a confession. My confession went something like this.

When the children were young and going trick or treating, our rule for candy was as follows: no eating candy until we got home and checked it. Then, we would generally allow them one or two pieces before bed. All the while, telling them it was for their protection. To some degree that was truth; however, it was more because Terry and I wanted to take out our faves and keep them for ourselves.

To be honest, one of my favorite times of the year was Halloween. Not only did our kiddos look forward with great anticipation, Terry and I enjoyed dressing them up and taking them to gather candy. In fact, some of our fondest and funniest memories are Halloween memories.

The one we talk about the most is this particular Halloween pictured below

Matthew’s costume was a vampire. It wasn’t a total epic fail but obviously my bother, the makeup artist, wasn’t available to get the makeup just so-so. There was no Pinterest, not that it would’ve made a difference.

Before going to the Pumpkin Patch, Terry decided we should just let them stroll through our neighborhood. So we loaded Alex in the stroller and began walking. Ryan and Matthew got a little ahead of us. The road ahead was steep, and boys will be boys. They move full speed ahead. Terry suddenly burst into laughter. Between laughs he said ” I didn’t realize we were taking James Brown trick or treating. Look at the back of Matthews wig. He looks just like James Brown running down the street.”

For years we’ve howled over that night.

I think our most memorable Halloween, for me, was our first one. We took Ryan and Matthew to Pumpkin Patch. Afterwards Terry said, ” Those boys need to get more candy. They’ve never been trick or treating, have they?”

We drove over to Druid Hills, an Historical District, in Hendersonville. The rain had subsided leaving behind piles of wet leaves. Terry decided it would be a good idea to let me and the boys out, while he followed behind at a slow pace. Ryan, being the candy fiend he is, darted off from house to house. Matthew’s little legs trying to keep up. When suddenly, Matthew, sporting a firemen’s outfit that year, ran right out of his boots and kept trucking. Leaving me behind to locate his shoes in the wet leaves. All the while, Terry following from inside the warm truck, laughing hysterically at the sight before his eyes.

I knew then and still know now that life with Terry will always be an adventure. It will always be a life filled with laughter and a life filled with special memories.

The Day She Wore Red

It was a cold day, December 5, 2015. She was running about frantically trying to decide what to wear. There was no preparation or thought given to the Christmas Parade. Although she knew since being crowned Homecoming Queen in October that she and Terrold, the King, would be expected to be in the parade.

It’s par for the course because she is her father’s child. Like him, she doesn’t always plan ahead. She’s a spontaneous combustion, which sometimes causes her to become overly anxious. Not to mention, it drives me to the yelling and screaming point. A place I’d rather not be.

She kept saying, “I need to wear something red. I don’t have anything red.” At the same time we both remembered the red coat. It would be a perfect accent and provide the Red she needed to represent the Bearcats.

This isn’t just any red coat. It was given to me by my sister-in-law, Marie in 1992. The coat belonged to Thelma, my mother in law. She died at the end of 1991 and Marie said she always loved Thelma in red.

I had worn the coat a few times, not often, because I have several other coats I prefer to wear. I’ve kept it for that just in case. So glad I did.

Amy grabbed the coat and dashed out the door. I wasn’t far behind. I wasn’t missing the parade just because she’s gotten us both worked into a bit of a tizzy.

I found a roomy spot to stand in order to have a perfect viewing. As the car rolled down the street, the first thing I noticed was the brilliant red coat. You couldn’t miss it. It didn’t stand out like a sore thumb, it stood out because it made every strand of her hair and skin tone stand out. It made her glow!

I wondered if it did the same thing for Thelma when she wore it. I’ll bet it did. You see, my mother in law had a very striking appearance. She was beautiful, even in her older years, there was just something about her. Her countenance. Her stature. You just knew that she was an overcomer. She was fierce and determined.

Then it hit me, her granddaughter is so much like her. She’s fierce and determined. She has an inward confidence in herself. Maybe that’s why the coat fit so perfectly. Maybe that’s why I kept the coat.

As all the maybes and why’s hurled through my mind, a deeper meaning crossed swept in. This coat was at least 18 years old, maybe older, when Amy wore it. However, there isn’t a blemish on the coat. It hasn’t worn out. It’s beauty hasn’t faded.

There’s a promise in the Bible that tells us “Yet the LORD says, During the forty years that I led you through the wilderness, your clothes did not wear out, nor did the sandals on your feet.” Deuteronomy 29:5.

God promises that He will provide for our needs, not necessarily for our wants. Amy had a need for something red to wear to the parade and God graciously provided it for her.

Ned and Sammy

One of my favorite stories to share about Ned is the love that developed between him and our dog Sammy. In order to do the story justice, I need to start from the beginning.

We had a dog growing up. A basset hound named, Duchess. She wasn’t the most loving dog. A good dog but not one that was allowed to come hangout in the house, primarily because she smelled and she shed!

She lived many years and Ned took really great care of her as she aged but he wasn’t all together fond of dogs.

Almost always on Christmas Eve, Mom and Ned would spend the night at our house. They were always eager to be part of watching their grandchildren open their gifts on Christmas morning.

In 2008, it was no different. Although, I did ask Ned if he was sure he wanted to stay because Amy was getting a puppy.

He replied, “Of course your Mom and I want to stay. I just don’t understand why you feel the need to get a dog. They’re nothing but trouble and you have to find someone to take care of them when you’re gone. Don’t ask me because I am not keeping yours or anyone else’s dog!”

I’ll bet as soon as he saw the delight in Amy’s eyes the next morning, he, too, was smitten by the 1.9 pound puff of white fluff.  However, he wasn’t about to cave-in at that point. He was way to stubborn!

After about 6 weeks, we were sitting at Amy’s basketball game and I told him we were going out of town the next weekend.  Jokingly I said, “You want to keep Sammy?”

His response, not shocking, “Now, I told you I don’t like dogs.  I am not keeping your dog.  I told you they’re a lot of trouble and you had to get care for them when you go out of town.”

I replied, “No worries.  I’m already boarding him.  I just wanted to see if your mind had changed.  You may not want to keep him now, but I’ll bet you will.  He’s so cute and sweet and he doesn’t shed.”

He huffed and said, “I’m not keeping your dog.”

After another few months, we had to board Sammy again.  It was not a good experience for him or us.  He was mistreated.  That didn’t make Ned happy either.  However, he still wouldn’t yield.

Then we found Emily.  A friend’s daughter who agreed to keep him.  He enjoyed staying with Emily and her family.  He was well-loved and cared for there.

One weekend, Emily wasn’t available and I decided to give Ned an opportunity to say, “yes”  By this time, Sammy was more than welcome in their house.  He was actually invited to come anytime we were visiting or having family functions.

I called and we chatted a few minutes.  I was prepping him for the big question.  “So, we’re going out of town this weekend and don’t have anywhere to leave Sammy.  I don’t want to board him.  Will you keep his cute little self?”

Without an ounce of hesitation, he responded, “Yeah.  I’ll keep him but I’ll tell you one thing right now, that dog is NOT sleeping in my bed. ”  I assured him that I would bring Sammy’s crate and he could put him in the crate at night.  I did forewarn him that he would cry because he was accustomed to sleeping with us.  I told him, “He likes his crate but only in the daytime and only when you’re not home.”

We left and Sammy was happy as a clam to be staying with Mamaw and Papaw.

The next morning, I get a call from Mom.  I just have to tell you what happened.  “We put Sammy in his crate last night.  (They put the crate in the laundry room which is on the opposite side of their bedroom)  He started to cry.  He was so pitiful.  I went to brush my teeth.  I told Ned, ‘if he doesn’t stop crying I’m going to get him.  I’ll take him upstairs with me and we will sleep on another bed.  I just can’t stand hearing that little thing cry.’  By the time I got ready for bed and came back into the room, Ned had the dog in our bed.”

She sent a picture and I can’t find it.

Needless to say, Sammy stayed with them anytime we went out-of-town, except for the past few times and Ned was too sick.  Good for Sammy, Alex was home and willing to take care of him.

The above picture was taken two Christmases after Sammy arrived.  Again, on Christmas day when Mom and Ned were at the house to watch their grandchildren open their gifts from Santa.  My what a difference two years made…….

This year will look and feel so different for us but I am so thankful and grateful for the many Christmases we had together!