like children who learn proper behavior from their parents.
Mostly what God does is love you.
Keep company with him and learn a life of love.
Observe how Christ loved us.
His love was not cautious but extravagant.
He didn't love in order to get something from us
but to give everything of himself to us.
Love like that.
Ephesians 5:1-3 (The Message)
Amy, our youngest daughter, and grandson, Wesley, came for a visit this week. We hadn't seen them since Thanksgiving...so we had some lost time to make up for!
We decided to take the simple approach...playing games, dining at Chathamoocha, painting, moving furniture around, sitting on the porch, laughing... lots of laughing...and creating some fresh memories to go with all those from years gone by.
Wesley worked on his painting for a few hours for 3 days. He's always been a good artist...everything he draws is very energetic and happy. This year he was painting characters from Yugio...very intent on his work!
We found a vintage croquet set at Goodwill...just the thing to entertain grandkids! Chuck and Wesley read the instructions on the internet and then went out to the backyard to put the wickets up. After they practiced playing a few rounds...the guys challenged Amy and me to a game. I hadn't played since I was a little girl visiting my grandparents! It took us girls a while to develop our technique but we finally got the hang of it. Grandaddy beat the rest of us!
Here we are at Chathamoocha our cute little eatery in town. We had
a tasty lunch and then watched Wesley eat "birthday cake" ice cream. He gave it 2 thumbs up!
Last night we played Uno and Scrabble till we were ready for bed. Amy kept score in Scrabble and challenged our words...we had dictionary.com on Chuck's laptop to settle any disputes. We all had a great time!
Amy and Wesley left this morning and are back in Tennessee. I'm sure our son-in-law, Randy, was thrilled to see them. He had been milking Amy's goats for her while she was gone!
It was a simple week. Amy called when they got home and said she asked Wesley what his favorite part of the week had been. His answer was, "Everything!" I think we all feel the same way.
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Love never gives up.
Love cares more for others than for self.
Love doesn’t want what it doesn’t have.
Love doesn’t strut,
Doesn’t have a swelled head,
Doesn’t force itself on others,
Isn’t always “me first,”
Doesn’t fly off the handle,
Doesn’t keep score of the sins of others,
doesn't revel when others grovel,
Takes pleasure in the flowering of truth,
Puts up with anything,
Trusts God always,
Always looks for the best,
Never looks back,
But keeps going to the end. Love never dies.
1 Corinthians 13:4-8a
The Message
I have a vivid childhood memory involving a bottle of 7-up. I was a shy 5 year-old at the time and Mama took me along to her Woman's Missionary Union meeting held in the home of one of the members. When we got there the living room was already full of women seated in chairs pulled together in a large circle. Everybody was visiting and laughing and having fun. Mama joined them and I sat next to her in a wooden dining room chair near the coffee table.
I always loved sitting in the background and listening to Mama's friends talk. That night was no exception and I smiled as I listened to these friends share their lives and laugh as they sipped coffee. But, then the nice lady who was the hostess looked down at me with a smile and said, "Debbie, wouldn't you like a bottle of 7-up to drink? I bet you're thirsty!"
At that moment I wanted a cold bottle of sparkly 7-up more than anything else in the world! Some of Mama's friends looked over at me at me probably thinking I'd jump at the chance. But I felt put on the spot...so I just shook my head and said, "No, thank you." That was the night I learned what "regret" felt like. All I could think about was how wonderful it would be to have my very own tall green bottle of 7-up! And the only person keeping me from it...was ME...because I was afraid to draw attention to myself!
A few minutes...that seemed like hours...later, the hostess sat a bottle of 7-up on the coffee table and said, "I'll just sit this here in case you change your mind." Even then, with this miraculous 2nd chance...it took me a while to gather up my courage...hop down out of my chair... and claim that "pause that refreshes." It was so-o-o-o-o-o good!!
God's love is like that. He graciously offers his love and forgiveness to each of us just because he knows we need it. It's all there...patiently waiting...refreshing love...if we just reach beyond our fears and claim it with our heart. Then...we don't have to live our lives sitting in the background. We can live as part of the family...and with no regrets can smile and say, "God is so-o-o-o-o-o-o good!
Jesus answered, "If you knew the generosity of God and who I am, you would be asking me for a drink, and I would give you fresh, living water."--John 4:10 The Message Bible
The Birth of Jesus
In those days Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world. (This was the first census that took place while Quirinius was governor of Syria.)
And everyone went to his own town to register. So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David. He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born,
and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.
The Shepherds and the Angels
And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord.
" This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.”
Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying,
“Glory to God in the highest,
and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests.”
When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let's go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about.” So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger. When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them. But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.
The
shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things they
had heard and seen, which were just as they had been told.
Luke 2:1-20 NIV
Merry Christmas from our house to yours!--Debbie and Chuck
This story is one of my favorite Christmas memories. I hope you enjoy the re-run of it this year.
It was December 1963. I had just turned 14. My parents and I were living on the third floor of the Vanda Hotel near Boundary Street in Hong Kong. Our two room suite was to be home for five months while my dad set up an electronics factory in Kowloon.
With a little begging from me, my parents let me stay out of school that year. I think my mom really wanted me around so we could explore Hong Kong together. We walked, rode the ferry to Hong Kong island, took the cable car up Victoria Peak, visited Buddhist temples, taught conversational English at a girls high school, made stuffed animals for little children, attended an English speaking church at Hong Kong Baptist College, took Chinese painting classes, ate at interesting places, had clothes and shoes made, and met many of the warmest most generous people we had ever met.
Hong Kong was a city of contrasts...wealth and poverty...dinner parties and hungry beggars...high-rise flats and cardboard shanty towns. I was touched by the dignity and graciousness that I saw every day in the lives of even the poorest Chinese people. It was humbling to be in their presence...suddenly I realized having a bad hair day was not a world crisis! I had a lot more to be thankful for than I had ever imagined...and maybe blessings weren't meant to be kept to myself.
The week before Christmas arrived. We were away from our family and old friends...it was just the three of us in our tiny temporary home with our little artificial "Charlie Brown" Christmas tree in the corner of my bedroom. We needed a family to share Christmas with but how would we find one? Then we thought of Mr. Kwan!
Mr. Kwan was a smiling young man in his twenties who worked with my dad in the electronics factory. Daddy really liked Mr. Kwan...he had a winning personality and loved his job. They quickly became friends. Mr. Kwan loved showing us the sights of Hong Kong that most Americans never saw. We all enjoyed his company. As we spent more time together, we learned that Mr. Kwan lived in a one room flat with his father and seven brothers and sisters. He was supporting his entire family with his earning from the factory.
One day Daddy explained to Mr. Kwan that we always gave presents to our family at Christmas. Since we were away that year, would he mind if we gave presents to his family instead? He agreed and gave us the names and ages of his entire family. We were so excited...it would be a real Christmas after all!
We spent several nights shopping for toys, candy and Christmas goodies. Mama and I wrapped and tagged the gifts and placed them under our little tree. A couple of nights before Christmas, Daddy and I climbed up the four flights of stairs to Mr. Kwan's flat carrying gifts from Santa. About half way up we saw several curious little boys peeping at us around the staircase. They flashed quick smiles in our direction and ran back up the stairs to announce the arrival of the strange American visitors!
Mr. Kwan welcomed us into his home and introduced us to each member of his family. His mother had died and Mr. Kwan's oldest sister helped their dad with the cooking and childcare duties for the family. The room was neatly lined with bunk beds. A little Christmas tree glowed merrily in a corner. A tiny makeshift kitchen filled another corner. The home may have been small... but the love there ...it felt big...very big!
We all smiled and nodded at one another. It's amazing how much you can say with a smile and a nod...and 
somehow in the midst of all our cultural and economic differences...Christmas came to all of us. It was the real kind of
Christmas...not a middle class American family giving to a poor Chinese
family...simply two families sharing friendship...and caring...and exchanging the best gifts any of us can give at Christmas time...our welcoming hearts.
Today we join freedom loving people all over the world to remember and honor the lives of those killed 11/26/08 in the Mumbai bombings.
Our hearts and prayers are with the families and friends of those killed and injured in Mumbai, India by this act of terrorism. May we all work diligently to live lives of compassion and kindness and love as our tribute to these whose lives have been taken far too soon.
In a world where hatred seems strong...love is stronger. In a world where fear make us want to keep to ourselves...love asks us to come together and join hands. In a world where it's easy to be hardened to the pain of others...love demands empathy. In a world where chaos seems to rule...love demands that we bring about order. In a world of injustice...love brings freedom. In a world of strangers...love sees friends. In a world of hostility...love acts with kindness. In a world that has given up...love brings hope. In a world of darkness...love's light shines brightly. In a world touched by injury...love brings healing.
The LORD is close to the brokenhearted
and saves those who are crushed in spirit.
Psalm 34: 18 NIV
At Thanksgiving we'll all take time to count our blessings and thank God for all his generous goodness ...family...friends...freedom...faith...life itself. We'll thank God for those special folks who nurtured us and helped us grow. And we'll be grateful for the opportunity to pass what we've been given on to the children and the aging.
But we should also be thankful for being a part of an even bigger family...the family of man. We're each like a piece in a big puzzle...our beauty can only be seen when we stand together...joined by our differences that complement and complete us.
Communication in any family, whether it's the one around the table or around the world, can be hard at times...words are sometimes misinterpreted. But thankfully, we were all born speaking the same language and it's one we never forget. The language of love is understood in every heart...because love is the language of God.
It's funny the things that you remember from your early childhood. Let me tell you about a memory from when I was a shy 3 year old.
We lived in a new neighborhood in the suburbs of Nashville, TN. WWII had been over for several years and couples were marrying and having children. It was a hopeful time in our country and a great time to be a child.
My mother had just joined a new church in our neighborhood. We met on Sunday in Dalewood Elementary School auditorium. The choir and pastor were on the school stage flanked by maroon velvet curtains with gold trim and the congregation was seated in rows of brown metal folding chairs on the floor below.
I enjoyed the first part of the service where everybody stood up and sang hymns. And the offering always got my attention...Mama would give me a dime to drop in the big heavy offering plate as it was passed down our row...but the sermon...well, the sermon was just background noise for my nap!
Have you ever tried to take a nap in a metal folding chair? It's not easy...even for a short 3 year old. I remember trying to lie down with my head in Mama's lap...the rest of me on the hard metal...legs scrunched up...trying not to get my shoes on the person next to me.
But one Sunday as I was getting properly scrunched...an elderly man seated next to me, looked down at me, smiled and whispered "You can put your feet in my lap if you want to." I shot Mama a look to see if it was okay and she nodded her approval. I smiled shyly and slowly stretched out...enjoying the freedom and went right to sleep!
Why do I remember that one snapshot in time just like it was yesterday? I think it's because there is no small act of love. All love is big...and it rings true in the heart who receives it whether they are 3 or 103. Love really IS ALL THERE IS!
Our daughter, Amy, and her fiance, Randy, were married Labor Day weekend. Amy and Randy are so much fun to watch...they are both very creative and appreciate the simple things of life.
Amy is an interior designer who specializes in sewing window treatments and
accessories. Randy is an artist working mainly in metal who does everything from sculpture to custom wrought iron stair railings.
Randy bought a farm in the scenic rolling hills of middle Tennessee the year before they married. He and Amy have been cutting and hauling trees for fence posts....building a corral and chicken coop....and planting and tending
a vegetable garden this summer.
Randy completed his studio and a tack room last year and the next project is a workroom for Amy beside his studio. After that they are building a house around a 150-year old log cabin. Nobody will ever call these two folks..."couch potatoes!"
Chuck and I wanted to get Amy and Randy a wedding gift that was "them." But what could it be? Then we remembered something we had from long ago...something they would both love! Chuck wrote the story that went with the gift...and here it is...
Rest and Be Thankful
When I was about 11 years old, I spent two
weeks in the summer with Mama and Daddy Warnock, my grandparents, on their
farm near Piedmont, South Carolina. Daddy Warnock was still working as a seed
salesman for the Pennington Seed Company, so during the day Mama Warnock and I
would run errands in their 1950-something Nash Rambler – a big black car that
resembled a large humpback whale moving down the road.
The old farmhouse they bought, along with
about 40-acres of land, was in the process of being redesigned by Mama
Warnock. A woman with only an eighth grade education, Marguerite Callaham
Warnock was a self-taught artist, heraldist, and interior designer. The old
kitchen in the house had already been torn out and relocated to a remodeled
outbuilding behind the main house. Where the old kitchen stood, a library with
volumes of books graced the back of the house. But that was by no means all
Mama Warnock would do to the old farmhouse.
One of her projects involved the local
blacksmith. We piled into the black Rambler one day, drove down the two lane
country roads, and pulled in to a blacksmith’s shop. Mama Warnock found a set
of old sleigh bells somewhere in her antique hunting, and wanted the
blacksmith to craft a metal bracket for them. She intended to use them for the
front door bell, and eventually they were mounted on the side entrance to the
front porch where they stayed until the house was sold. I think the bells must
have stayed with the house.
But she had another project – a metal sign
hung from a hand-forged bracket. This sign was to hang at the upper entrance
to the driveway at the road. As she talked with the blacksmith, explaining in
great detail how the sign and bracket were to be crafted, I looked around the
blacksmith’s shop. We had been there before, because old Joe, my cousin
Barbara’s horse had been shod by the same smith. I remember that day that the
forge was hot, and the bellows stood by waiting to pump air onto the coals.
With instructions given, and assurances that the smithy understood, we piled
back into the Rambler and headed home.
The next week the smith called and the work
was done. Back into the car, down the two lane blacktop, and to the blacksmith
again. The sign and bracket were there, leaned up against the open side of the
shed. A shield of metal, tool marks still visible where the smith had pounded
the edges. The mounting bracket scrolled and forged into one piece ready for
the post waiting for it at the driveway. On both sides of the sign, lettered
by a skillful hand, the words – Rest and Be Thankful.
That sign hung at the driveway entrance for years, greeting each arriving family member and friend at the old farmhouse on the hill. Over the years, the letters became less distinct, the metal aged, and then rusted, but the old sign remained.
When the house was sold, I asked Mama Warnock
if I could have the sign. I recalled our visit together to the blacksmith’s
and how vivid that memory still was. She told me that everything attached,
including the sign and the sleighbells, had to stay with the house. So, for
the last time, after all the packing was done, we pulled out of the drive,
with the sign still hanging in it’s place.
Years passed and so did Mama and Daddy
Warnock. Our lives changed and by then we had moved to Spartanburg. It must
have been about 1991 or 1992 when we found ourselves coming back from
somewhere, near the exit that led to Mama and Daddy Warnock’s old farmhouse.
We pulled off, just to drive by and see what the place looked like. I had
heard that the new owners had built a swimming pool, and made other changes,
and I was curious about what they had done.
We pulled up to the house and into the
driveway. I noticed that the sign no longer hung on the post by the road. We
introduced ourselves to the lady who came to the door, explaining that my
grandparents had lived here and we just wanted to see the place once more.
She invited us in, gave us a tour of all the remodeling they had done. The
library was gone, swallowed up into the master bedroom. The keeping room, with
it’s massive fireplace, antique corner cabinets, and gigantic paned window had
been reworked. We were polite, but the house no longer felt the same.
On the way out, I asked about the sign at the
road. I explained that I had been with my grandmother when she told the
blacksmith what she wanted. “The sign is over there,” she said. And with that,
we walked to the old open front garage where the Nash Rambler had been parked.
Hanging on the wall was the sign and bracket. “Could I buy it from you?” I
asked. “Go ahead and take it, we really don’t have a use for it.” I removed
the sign from the nail that held it on the garage wall, and carried to the
car. With many thanks, we pulled out of the driveway realizing that the old
house wasn’t the same, and never would be again. But the sign symbolized the
life Mama and Daddy Warnock had there – a simple life lived with grace and
dignity surrounded by beautiful things they had gathered in a lifetime of
living.
When we moved to Nashville and bought a house,
I mounted the sign on the garden shed. I liked it there, but it didn’t seem to
suit the sign. When we moved to Fayetteville, we carried it with us, but never
mounted it. Since moving to Chatham it has hung in our garage waiting for a
place. Debbie and I talked about putting the sign in the front yard, or the
back garden, but we never had much enthusiasm for either location. The sign
belongs on a farm because that’s where it came from. A farm where a family
gathers to work, and laugh, and rest.
Randy and Amy, this is our gift to both of you. It belongs with you because of your artistry in working with metal, Randy. It belongs with you because of your passion for design, Amy. May this old sign bring the same joy to you that it brought to my grandmother and grandfather, to our family, and to us. We love you both and pray God’s richest blessings on your life together.
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