#loveMildred

As I've matured these last 38 plus years Christmas has become less about what I'm getting and more about the people I get to see.  Last week I was able to visit one of my very favorite people.  She's my sweet little Grandmother who while pushing 85 still has a very quick wit.  When I was 14 I spent 5 weeks in Lake Jackson with my grandparents and had a blast.  The other adults in my life assumed I was bored hanging with the old people for that amount of time and I'm sure there were moments that seemed slow.  Mostly I just remember being completely spoiled and loving it. 

When I spend time with Mildred I feel like we would have been buddies had we met under any circumstance no matter the geographical location or period of time.  Had I been a little girl in Oklahoma during the 30's we would have made mud pies without soiling our pretty dresses.  Were I a youth in Blevins, AR in the 40's we would have talked boys and looked at glamour magazines.  We could have raised our children together in TX and chit chatted over laundry while our husbands were at work.  I enjoyed her so much as a grandmother during my growing up years.  I always thought she was so pretty with her red fingernails and sparkling jewels.  Oh the jewelry...a visit just wasn't a visit without pulling out all Memaw's jewels.  As much as I've enjoyed being Mildred's granddaughter as a girl I relish it as an adult.  We can literally talk for hours.  After spending a few days with her last week Memaw literally lost her voice. 

Everyone should spend a few days in some sort of home for the elderly.  It boosts ones confidence by leaps and bounds.  We walked the halls, ate in the dining room, and drank our coffee as we "shot the breeze" with all Memaw's friends.  One evening we had entertainment and the next we joined a sing a long.  Both nights I was asked to sing for the others in some capacity and was happy to humor all the old people especially the little lady with big dimples who beamed with pride.  Laughter is always a frequent occurrence when spending time with this Honea.  She tried to describe one of the friends I had made as "the crippled lady."  I had to inform her that "you all look a little cripple."  During one of our visits 5 years ago we were shopping and she was a little disgruntled that I looked better in a pair of jeans than she did.  To which I replied, "Lady, you're 80...if the opposite is true just shoot me!" 

I'm so proud of how Memaw continues to thrive at the age of 85 despite all her physical ailments that leave her weak, almost blind and dependent on others for help.  She's so brave to try new things.  Her most recent endeavor is the purchase of an iPhone.  She's gradually getting to know Siri and adapting very well. 

My cousin Garrett recently told me, "I like to think (Memaw) will live forever."  The thought of anything different is just too difficult to imagine. 

Passing Down HIS Importance

After a few months of courtship I could have listed off the many qualities I loved about Andy Jones.  No doubt his incredible wit along with his capacity to hold vast amounts of knowledge in his sizable noggin would have held top spots.  Since then the list has grown from a few items to pages and pages and pages of wonderful qualities that make him such a wonderful husband to me and father to my children.  One item that would make the list today I was hesitant to expect back in the dark ages of my 20th year. That man comes from one fantastic family.  When I was a new Jones I wondered if I'd be able to break into this fine family to the point of belonging.  The process didn't take long and no doubt required much patience on the part of my in laws.  I'll be forever grateful for their understanding my many immature eccentricities as I transitioned from a girl barely removed from those teenage years to someone older and hopefully wiser.

Imagine three grown children, their spouses and the 6 children we've collected through the years and throw them  together for days and even weeks at a time and most would fear the worst.  We have a blast. The only time any of us have come to blows was during the Iron Bowl a few years ago and those involved weren't long enough in the britches to know how to reign in such strong SEC type emotion.  We have a great deal of respect and appreciation for one another and adding one crazy Logan for comic relief definitely keeps us entertained. The key to this success is a common love and devotion for our Savior. 

This love has been passed down, prioritized, modeled and faithfully lived out by the ones we call Grammy and Gramps.  Thanks you two for raising your son in such a way that allowed the Holy Spirit easy access.  I appreciate the world view he has whose seed was planted by a refrigerator covered with pictures of missionaries. Thank you for loving him with the only love that could permeate his soul and has reflected into my life every day for almost two decades.

Happy Birthday Gramps!  We love you!

To whom much is given...

Sometimes a girl just needs to see her Mama.  I realized this was the case for me last Wednesday when I hung up the phone with my mother and couldn't stop crying.  My husband received a very melancholy text from me with kindness and understanding.  He was willing to squeeze my taxiing and cooking duties into his already busy schedule without one complaint.  The last time I was this desperate for the presence of my Mom was Spring Break of my Freshman year of college and instead of staying in CA Mama counted her pennies and flew me home.  This was one of many sacrifices she made way back during my college years. Sacrifice is a common theme with this petite, quiet creature we all call Granny.

I didn't have a real agenda for my surprise visit.  All I wanted was to talk and walk with her as she lived life.  We had two nights and one day together filled with chatter, reminiscing, loving and serving her parents and hanging with my older sister.  Everyday she drives into town to cook dinner for my elderly grandparents. She reminds Nana to take her pills and listens to the story of the day that has decided to get stuck in that sweet lady's mind.  Whatever the story, it plays on repeat multiple times.  But she's wonderful and we love her.  My Grandfather enjoys discussing current events but after a few minutes you've deafened your own self trying to speak loudly enough to be heard. As you can imagine, even after 60+ years they make a fine pair.  My aunts and uncle do what they can when they are able and no doubt wish they were close enough to be even more involved.  Mama doesn't complain or allow herself to feel overwhelmed.  She stays even keeled and joyful even while exhausted.

During one of our trips down memory lane Mama relived moments from the time she moved in with her brother in order to help his wife end a battle with cancer.  Anyone who has watched a cancer patient fight knows these are difficult days.  My mom left her life for half a year in order to be with those she loved during an impossible ordeal.  She was blessed with flexibility her other sisters didn't have then and she has been blessed with proximity to her parents her sisters and brother don't have now.

I'm the selfish one.  I am saddened when Granny isn't able to come watch a football game or chorus concert.  It's hard to hear her so tired and not be local myself.  The past few days reminded me that for 38 years I've been blessed beyond measure over and over again by her sacrificial nature.  To whom much is given much is required and I have been blessed to have for a mother this little lady who delights in serving those she loves most.

Here's a video of my Nana telling the story of her conversion...a story that would be easy to listen to a hundred times over.

Tom Hanks Was Wrong

I've often threatened real tears over the outcome of a Braves game but for the first time in my 15 years as an avid fan the tears weren't a joke.  After last night's loss I went to bed with a belly ache, woke up 3 times during my short night's sleep feeling despair and after dropping off kids at school the tears flowed.  I don't understand why I care so much about the ending of a sports season but somewhere deep in my soul  something ripped.  Listening to the weekly podcast by Atlanta Baseball Talk helps me process these things but I just can't wait until Sunday.  I find writing therapeutic. In an effort to limit my children's fodder for future therapy sessions and my own sanity I'd like to say "Thanks".

Thank you Freddie Freeman for doing splits any gymnast would envy and saving 100 errors in the process.  Your work on both sides of the plate this year was MVP worthy. Thank you Chris Johnson for being a bright spot in the line up even in the darkest of offensive woes.  Simba, I don't know how you do it!  You make all of Braves Country proud when other announcers speak of your defensive talent with envy.  JHey!  Thanks for fighting to recover as quickly as possible from your emergency appendectomy and after taking that fastball to the face.  Thank you J Up for helping me not miss Martin Prado so desperately in the beginning of the season.  To others' whose last name begins with a U, I don't know what makes hitters struggle but no one can question your heart's desire to play well. I appreciate your dedication to the game this season especially in the batting cage.    El Oso Blanco, I freakin' love your raw doggin' teachable self.  Don't ever change.  You are an inspiration!  Thanks to the bullpen for keeping us in the game time after time even when we were behind.  All those comeback wins would never have been possible without you.  Kimbrel, I don't have words big enough to describe what we all feel when those flames lick the screens at the Ted.  I better stop there (insert your own opinion about Craig's absence last night).  Alex Wood, David Hale, Mike Minor, Julio Teheran, and Kris Medlen, look at you all grown up. O'Flaherty, Venters, Beachy and merciful heavens, Huddy...get well soon!  We need you next season.  B. Mac, don't go!!!!!!!!!!!  To all of you...thank you for the sweat, sore muscles, time from family, missing birthdays, missing births all together, suffering jet lag, enduring smelly locker rooms,weariness of the road, hecklers, and respecting the game enough to endure the immaturity of Gomez and Harper.

David Carpenter, I hope you don't beat yourself up.  Mama said there'd be days like this and besides, that Juan fella seems to be a pretty good hitter. Thank you Elliot Johnson and Constanza for giving me a hope filled 7th inning.  It was fantastic! I really thought we'd pull it off.

 Honestly, we just got beat.  I'd put the 2013 Atlanta Braves at their best against any team in baseball.  Making it through the playoffs, much less winning the World Series takes an entire season of tons of tiny things going perfectly.  It's rare and miraculous.  For the remainder of the postseason I'm going to have to pull for the Dodgers.  My friend, and Dodger fan Matt Elliott is in a hospital bed battling Leukemia and dude needs something to pass the time and get excited about.  Come on Dodgers!  Win it for the cancer patient!

The Atlanta Braves were fun to watch all season and for that I thank you.  

Stick a fork in me...I'm Cooked.

I'm an oxymoron.  I'm a chick who watches every Braves baseball game from first pitch to last out and I'm a preacher's wife who is enthralled with a rock band.  Let's talk David Cook shall we?

I'll never forget watching American Idol when Ryan Seacrest announced,"Up next, David Cook...after this message from Coke".  I voiced out loud with indignation, "I never like the rockers."   Even when I was young and pretended to resemble some sort of cool I wasn't a rock and roll kinda girl.  When Lionel Richie's "Hello" was performed by the shaggy haired, electric guitar toting so and so I realized something. While I wouldn't pay to hear David Cook sing the phone book I'd pay to hear him perform just about anything else. Classical vocal training has given me a great appreciation for clear, open throat-ed crooners no matter the genre.  When David Cook's self titled album was produced I looked past the black eyeliner on the cover art and downloaded that sucker.  Being a decade into Baby Einsteins and Barney, Cook's album was a fantastic wake up call. I was being left behind in the wide world of music and after all, don't I deserve a turn in the mini van!

As much as I enjoyed DC's first album I reeeeeeeally love the second, This Loud Morning.  My favorite song, "Fade Into Me", takes many emotions developed over 17 years of marriage and puts them into words.  In my opinion, there's not a whole lot on iTunes Top 40 I would encourage my 15 year old daughter to sing or mind my pre-teen son listening to. A lot of it is quite appalling to my delicate southern level of decorum. David Cook (with the help of others) writes lyrics that are poetic, metaphorical and intelligent.  There's no need for "Blurred Lines" when you can come up with

Let go, fall in.
Drown in the moment with me.
Sinking 'til we start to breathe.

When my atmosphere is thick with adolescence or I cannot take another question from the peanut gallery in the back seat, I turn on some of my favorite music and listen to them "all sing along".  Priceless.

Last Thursday my fellow DC fan and sister in law joined me for my third David Cook concert.  The venue was very cool and the company was a blast.  A drink at dinner and a glass of wine at the concert made for a very fun time for us two light weights.  The highlight was getting to join the VIP-ers for part of the sound check and then have a little face time with David himself.  I'm certain when little Davey started this rock venture and considered a successful meet and greet in his mind's eye, it didn't include the mini van driving mother of three who was clearly pushing 40.  He was, however, nothing but kind, thoughtful and interested in my very fast, possibly incoherent line of jabber.  I had so much to say and so little time! Who knows what really came out of my mouth but I attempted to relay my appreciation for his musicality, poetic lyrics, and overall amazing talent. I asked if he was ever tempted to raunch up his lyrics in order to sell more albums or get more notoriety. He said that isn't really a temptation cause it's just not how the lyrics come to him.   There's never enough time or access in these sorts of moments.  I was hoping to tell Andy Skib that my cousin is his friend Garrett Honea and "hey, you're really awesome".  I don't know a lot about drummers but clearly Nick Adams is stellar.  Monty Anderson seems like a nice, happy to be alive kinda guy and I'm very glad he doesn't do everything David may request on stage. Inside joke... had to be there.  You can tell when a band enjoys being together and this one definitely does.  Oh and to the tour manager, can't remember his name, I'm so sorry that drunk lady wouldn't leave you alone.

I don't know why This Loud Morning hasn't sold as well as the first album but I have extremely high hopes for the next one.  Dave (we're buddies now so I can call him that) and the guys played some new stuff at WorkPlay last Thursday night that was ridiculous crazy good.  The next concert I go to I will be taking along my husband just in case an acoustic version of "Fade Into Me" is on the set list.

If you have any appreciation for good music you'll go to iTunes this minute and download the new single "Laying Me Low".  It's just a taste of the fantastic music yet to come.  I'm telling you...we have not yet heard the best of this talented band.

Time...the good, the bad and the trustworthy.

It's been far to long since my last post.  I've half written many posts multiple times in my head and never took the time to sit and type it out. Sometimes I go back and read through previous blog posts and ponder how God has answered so many questions over the past 15 months.  I find "There's a Mountain Behind Those Clouds" particularly ironic.  As I took the picture attached to that post and pondered the life God had directed us toward, I had no idea our church home and my employer were in the exact direction of my camera.  Time is a funny thing...

When our first child was about three she started praying for a sister.  She already had a brother and no doubt wanted a real live baby doll to dress and tote around.  She got an enormous, cranky brother named Daniel instead.  She rallied and loved ANOTHER brother.  Last summer I watched my usually stoic daughter weep from loneliness.  We chose to trust that God's good timing would bring great friendships.  She has made many wonderful friends since we moved last June for which I am so very thankful. Over this last summer Emma spent half her time with her friend Elizabeth.  Over this time we have come to think of "Lizzie" as a part of the family.  It recently occurred to me, here is the sister Emma prayed for so long ago.  Even during last summer's wildest dreams of great friends I don't think she could have conjured up our Lizzie.  The answer to this heartfelt desire was a looooong time coming.  Last summer it seemed she was destined for bored loneliness all her days now we're all shocked when Lizzie goes back to her house.  We forget she doesn't really live here!

A recent illness has fallen on a long time friend of ours.  It was a matter of days between his thinking he had the flu and hearing the words, "You have leukemia".  His wife, my dear friend, posted a picture on her blog just before he started feeling unwell.  At that moment they had normal life decisions to make.  Their minds were filled with the concerns of the details of everyday life.  I would venture to assume that today our friends Matt and Kelli Elliott are very clear on the details that matter in this life.  I bet from the time that picture was taken to today as Matt lies in a hospital bed their entire perspective on all aspects of life has been greatly altered.

I'm thankful for the concept of time.  I'm so thankful that deep hurts take time to heal, difficult questions take time to be answered, and answered prayers take time to be realized.  Each of those statements remind me that my God is bigger than my time frame.  His purposes are more vast than I could possibly understand.  His goodness is unchangeable and never ending.


Please pray for Matt, Kelli, Ivy and Lucy Elliott.

A Wonderful Surprise!

Laying sod, raking gravel, and spring cleaning are not things that should make for a jolly atmosphere.  However, last Tuesday I had the privilege of helping a group do all three for a family in our church.  You would have thought we were being paid by the minute or headed to Disney World the smiles were so prevalent.   The recipients of such a gift are very special and much beloved by their friends and family. 
 
Matt and Kristen live in the center of a three home cul de sac on the back of Lookout Mountain.  The house to the left holds very dear friends, Katie and Joel. To their right lives Kristen's sister, also named Katie, and her family.  My sisters and I are always arguing over who is the sweetest.  Julie is clearly the favorite, with good reason, and she tries to claim she is the sweetest but the rest of us beg to differ.  Kristen's two Katies are sweeter than all of us put together. 

This much valued family has been journeying through a difficult stretch.  They would tell you they're doing well, God is good and other true sentiments that express their love for the Lord and contentment in the struggles He gives them the grace to endure.  I for one had no idea Matt was enduring intense migraines and chronic back pain.  I hadn't spoken to Kristen long enough to make the appropriate inquiries in order to hear how homeschooling, mothering and other responsibilities have been intensified due to a husband in extreme pain. I may have been unaware but those close to them were not.  Only the Master Healer can take away Matt's pain and continue to grant both he and Kristen His patience and peace.  But the Katies thought of some things we humans could do to help lighten the load.  They contacted family and friends in order to raise funds that would allow much needed sod and gravel.  I've lived in a yard where grass was almost impossible to grow and the maddening amount of dirt tracked into the house makes clean floors impossible to maintain.  They also thought we could spring clean the house 'cause who isn't uplifted by a clean slate? We snuck onto the property like a bunch of pixies and wood gnomes while Kristen was away with the kids and Matt was at work. We brought meals to fill the freezer and mops to clean the floors.  We moved furniture and dusted under beds.  Loads of laundry were cycled all the while tractors, trucks, rakes and strong backs transformed the yard into a wonderland.  There were dozens of people throughout the day hard at work delaying their own meals to be cooked, homes to be cleaned, children to be cared for, and professional work left unattended. 

While the progress accomplished last Tuesday was a bit overwhelming to Matt and Kristen we were all given a very real picture of God's love for His children.  He doesn't just give us the bare necessities but rather lavishes us with earthly blessings as well as Spiritual.  If this precious couple wasn't in a position to "need" they wouldn't have been able to experience just how much they are cared for by those around them.  They would have missed an overwhelming example of their Heavenly Father's love and provision.  I'm just getting to know the community at Rock Creek Fellowship but I already love them dearly.  It's one thing to think of such a fantastic plan but to put forth the effort necessary to follow it through is very rare. 
 
Well done RCF!  Very well done!

Grandparents Rock

Today, my Aunt and Uncle are becoming grandparents for the first time.  I can only imagine their excitement!  I have had the pleasure of knowing all of my Grandparents as an adult.  Knowing your grandparents is one thing.  Being able to experience who they are at an age when you can truly appreciate them is another story entirely. Were I to truly give them justice in this post you would all fall from exhaustion and never read my blog again.  Plus, while he has never dared say so, I know Andy Jones already thinks my posts are too long. 

My maternal grandfather called me the other day to inform me of his progress on a game I sent him a few weeks ago.  That man is sharp as a tack and loves puzzles.  Rush Hour is not to be trifled with and he completed all 40 cards.  I still remember him trying to teach me how to play chess.  He showed no mercy and success was not found in winning but rather in playing long enough he had to stretch his legs when the game was over.  I was rarely successful.  His sweet, playful, fun loving wife is a true treasure.  I can always anticipate her grabbing me by the arms and saying, "Sing to me Leah!  Sing to me!"  She doesn't care what is going on or if strangers may or may not be present.  She isn't particular about genre or the song I choose to burst forth in singing as long as she's there to hear it. This dear lady reads through the Bible every year. 

While my paternal grandfather is no longer living in this world his lineage is very much in tact.  My Papa and his brothers are constantly solving problems and continuing to discuss their outcome even though much time has passed and they are separated by many miles.  I was reminded of one of  this family's long standing traditions as I made a list of projects in anticipation of Papa's visit last month.  My Memaw is the one who married the ring leader and raised the rest.  She uses long gone phrases such as "He's not long enough in the britches" to describe a child and "all told" when gathering information.  It warms my heart each time she ends our conversations with, "Love you big!"  Last Christmas I started a wonderfully long, never ending project for this dear lady  who just keeps on keeping on despite many physical ailments.  The most annoying is Macular degeneration which has left her legally blind.  "Stealing" and reading through some of my Grandfather's old letters left me broken hearted that she could no longer do the same and spurred me into action.  Most of you have already heard my "interview" with Dick Gordon's "The Story" but just in case you haven't the last 5 minutes of this episode tells how I gave back my Grandmother's sight for little slices of time. 

Congratulations Aunt Bud and Uncle Bob!  You guys are going to absolutely ROCK this grandparent thing!  Love you both!

Perspective

I used to think the movie "UP" had a sweet story line and the ending made me cry. Other than that it didn't make much sense and therefore it was my least favorite movie of the Pixar genre.  Then I got a dog.  Now I TOTALLY get it.  I used to see dogs walking down the road and sure...I'd avoid hitting them but not without a huff and being a bit annoyed.  Now I grip the wheel with one hand, honk the horn with the other and mentally plan for action in case the pooch runs out in front of me.  It reminds me of how my Grandfather never tipped a waitress until his granddaughter waited tables. 

Last week my youngest brought home a letter informing us that he had been chosen to be tested for the gifted program at school.  When my older two were described as "gifted" or "smart" I would beam with pride.  With this youngest treasure I nearly broke down in tears. My mind slipped back in time when my sister in law suggested having his hearing checked.  She has multiple master's degrees in Special Ed and I knew she wouldn't make such a suggestion without first having much concern.  I then pictured in my mind's eye various State of North Carolina employees coming to our house twice a week in order to help Danny Mac catch up to himself.  The large 3 1/2 year old who talked non stop could not communicate.  Even I had to guess most of the time what the frustrated toddler was trying to tell me.  It took two years of Speech and Developmental Therapy but you'd never know it now.  No matter what happens after the testing is complete the fact he was chosen to be tested is HUGE!

For almost the entire month of January I was a coughing, fatigued mess.  After two urgent care visits and as many rounds of antibiotics my icky virus would just have to run it's course.  Usually a burning sore throat for weeks on end and a lack of energy that rivaled the 9th month of pregnancy would produce many sympathy seeking complaints.  Instead I was thankful to be home with my peeps and have medication that eased my suffering.  Mostly I was comforted with the prognosis of returning to my full state of health. Lest you think these positive reactions were due to a state of maturity they were not.

 Not far from me my crazy, hilarious, very sweet brother in law George was watching his big sister prepare to leave her earthly home and enter into the presence of her Savior.  I know George and his tight knit family enough to confidently assume even in much grief God's great goodness was evident.  I have no doubt the Spirit's mercy flowed through all Catrina Christoper's friends and family as the days slowly eased by.  The knowledge of these goings on turned my illness into a blessing.  I loved my children more fiercely, hugged my husband more tightly and praised the Master Healer more fervently. 

Perspective...