Monthly Archives: November 2017

Memories: “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year” -By Karla

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I love the holidays!  I mean LOVE them! There is something magical about this time of year.

Turkey Cookies

When Lindsey was four and Rachel was almost a year old, I started making cookies with them the day before Thanksgiving. I have always cheated and used a mix because it is easier. It’s never been about how they actually taste; it’s the process and the memories.

In the early years, Lindsey had a blast tracing her elementary-school hands with a butter knife. Meanwhile, I worked the dough around Rachel’s little fingers, trying to place them just right to form the head and feathers. We made turkey cookie after turkey cookie with sprinkles galore!

Year after year we baked. Sometimes it was just the three of us, but other times we invited friends and extended family.  It seems like I blinked and they had grown up. Though our schedule does not allow us to make our turkey cookies the day before Thanksgiving, we manage to still carve time sometime over the holidays to gather, roll, cut out our turkeys, smile, and make memories.

Mom’s Famous Dressing

When Mom was sick years ago, I offered to help cook her part of the holiday meals. I consider myself fortunate that she taught me how to make her dressing. That first year without Mom, I can remember being so nervous making it. It’s not like any of the forty-plus family members and friends, who gather for meals over the holidays, would have cared if it did not taste good, but I did! For some reason, I needed it to be as good as hers.

It never failed. Even fifteen years after her passing, Papa Berry, my adult dad, always made sure to walk by me with his plate filled, and pat me on the shoulder. “Karla, your mom would be proud. It tastes just like hers.” He was such a sweetheart; I know some years the dressing was much drier than others.

As one decade rolled into another Rachel started helping make the  dressing, and I know this would make Mom smile.

New Traditions

With the girls being older, I try to put up the Christmas tree the week of Thanksgiving because they have more time to visit.  Over the years the location of the tree has seen different spots, but the golds and reds still grace its branches.  In the background we play Christmas music, usually drink hot chocolate, and sometimes even have a muted football game on.

Family Time While Shopping

On the days that follow Thanksgiving, my sisters and I do some shopping. For us, it is more about spending time together than the materialism. We always have some fun story from these trips.

This year, one store had a line a mile long. We took turns standing in line while the others browsed the racks for that special something. Finally, I told everyone to head toward Panera with my great-niece. Sharing that I would pay for everything now, we could divvy up later. Looking in the stroller, I was surprised that Gail was buying three stuffed animals, but I paid for them as well as everything else.

That evening, we had some serious laughter as we divided up our purchases. My sister Gail grimaced when she realized she owed me money for the two stuff animals she was only letting her granddaughter hold in hopes to keep her satisfied. had let my great-niece hold simply to occupy her time in line.

I then explained the problem with the third stuffed animal.” It did not have a price tag, so they just charged me the same price as the larger one she had just rung up. ” Gail said, “She only had two. Where did the third one come from?”  We burst with laughter when she shared that I had paid for a twenty-five year-old-stuffed animal.  She had brought old one from home and did not realize they had even taken it into the store!

Most Importantly

These are just a few of the reasons, plus the beginning of the possibility of a snow day, that make me love this time of year. How blessed I am to know the most important meaning for the glow of the season. I have in my heart, the birth of Jesus.

For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him will not perish, but have everlasting life. (John 3:16)

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Broken: The Shell -By Patty (Guest Blogger)

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On a recent trip, Karla and I took a walk down the sandy shores of Panama City Beach. As we strolled, we talked about many things. On this particular day, Satan was accusing me of being a bad parent. This is a fear that haunts me daily and torments me when I allow it. Feeling broken, I bared my soul to my dear friend. We would occasionally stop and pick up a seashell that drew our attention. Through my teary eyes, I searched that sandy beach for the perfect shell.

Later after we had returned to the condo and showered, I gazed in amazement at a little shell that Karla had given me. It was a beautiful Calico Scallop. It had pink and white tones and was just perfect! But then, I began to look at it closely, marveling at the workmanship. As I examined it, I noticed a crack here and a chip there, and finally, I saw that it was not perfect. The shell had been out in the ocean, being pounded and beat into the shore. Despite all the storms it had endured and the cracks that it had acquired, it was still beautiful and was serving its purpose: to glorify God.

I am Broken

Suddenly, I was this shell. I saw myself in the ocean being beaten and tossed about in those strong waves. My mind reflected over the many storms that I had gone through and the times that my heart had been broken. Tears flowed as I thought back to the day my biological mother left me at nine years old to be given up for adoption. Painfully, I thought of the adopted parents, who after nine years of living with them told me that they had done everything they could for me, I was now on my own. I remembered the day that the man I loved walked out on me and our week-old baby.

Sadly, I thought of how I had been chipped and cracked and even rejected by those who passed by. I had been broken and cracked and felt useless to others. Then, I remembered that this is how God found me, broken, chipped, and scarred. But He picked me up anyway.

No Such Thing as Perfect

My thoughts went back to the many shells that we passed by because they did not make it through the harshness of the ocean. They were broken and useless. This is how the world often views us. They look at our chips and our cracks, and they do not have any use for us. The world does not care that we are beautiful despite our environment. You see, the world is looking for that perfect shell. Webster’s dictionary defines perfect as “Complete in all respects; without defect or omission; sound; flawless.”  Well, that is quite a definition to live up to. Especially since there is no such thing as perfect in this world.

I smiled through my tears as I realized that there is a God who looks at me through perfect eyes. When Jesus found me, I was broken, weak, and useless. But that’s where I had to get to allow Him to pick me up and to make use of me.  I still have the chips and cracks that the world left me with, but I know that God uses those imperfections so that I can encourage others with similar wounds. Far from perfect am I, but I am no longer useless. I am fearfully and wonderfully made by the same God that created that shell (Psalm 139:14). The shell and I have the same purpose: to glorify God by being who He made us to be.

If you are feeling broken and cracked and beaten down by the ocean, don’t despair.  All you have to do is ask Jesus to pick you up. He will gladly do so. Take courage, you are useful despite your cracks and chips. He will use you to do what we were made to do: Glorify Him by being us.

-Patty

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Thankfulness: Attitude of Gratitude -By Donna

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As I sat on my porch steps dropping candy into trick or treat bags, I was thrilled at the number of children who said thank you. It was more than I expected in this day and age.  But those who didn’t reminded me of a story in the book of Luke. Ten men with leprosy cried out begging Jesus to heal them. He told them to go show themselves to the priest, and as they went, they were healed.  One  man, when he saw he was cured, came back to thank Jesus.  One! Jesus asked, “Didn’t I heal ten men? Where are the other nine?”

I believe many people feel entitled and therefore they don’t say thank you. Yes, it’s the cashier’s job to take your hard-earned money for the overpriced item you are buying.  But, thanking her is respectful, and those may be the only kind words she has heard that day.

“Say thank you.”  If you have children, you have probably said that umpteen times to them.  At first, they say these words because they are told too, even when they aren’t thankful. Then it may become a habit, but hopefully with time they will say it with a grateful heart.  Being thankful to others blesses both the giver and the receiver.

When something of magnitude is done for us or given to us, we are quick to say those words, but we often forget to say thanks for the little things. As a teacher, I try to emphasis the importance of saying thank you to my kindergarten students.  Some day, as I am passing out papers, I hear “thank you” twenty times in a row, and I have to say, “you’re welcome” back each time. It seems excessive, but it makes me smile.

“Thanks”giving

With Thanksgiving approaching, we all get “thankfulness” on our minds. But shouldn’t it be a daily practice? We often get overwhelmed, distracted, or in a hurry and forget those words. We slip into a mode of negativity, worry, and frustration. Gratitude can alter our frame of mind by helping us realize all we have to be thankful for.

The old saying, every cloud has a silver lining, may be true if you look hard enough. For 25 years, I lived in the middle of 40 wooded acres. When our surrounding land was clear cut, I listened to all the negatives from others about how it looked like a tornado had come through and wreaked havoc. And truly it did. I was accustomed to driving through the canopy of trees and acres of plush greenery. Now, it was a bare and dusty wasteland. But one night while sitting in my recliner, I saw the most beautiful sky as the sun was setting. I had never seen that glorious view because the trees had blocked it for years. Thus, the silver lining.

Thank God -Even for the Bad

Thanking God should be a daily practice. It is easy to thank Him for all our blessings, but the Bible says, “in all things give thanks”.  Depending on your circumstances that may be difficult. Thank God during hard times. I have had to learn to do that over the past two years, but God blesses me when I do.

One time recently on the way back from Daytona, the truck broke down. It was at least 95 degrees. We pulled off the highway into a vacant parking lot. As I sat in the back seat sweating like a pig, and the boys were out looking under the hood, I thanked God that the truck broke down. As weird as it sounds, for no reason, it just came out of my mouth. And I meant it. Literally, when I opened my eyes, someone pulled up beside us. He had seen us from the highway. He went to Autozone, got the part we needed and brought it to us.

When Tucker jumped back into the truck, I said, “Well, I am glad I thanked God for the truck breaking down.”

In disbelief he questioned me, “Why would you thank God for that?”

“Because you’re suppose to thank Him for everything, and look what He did in return.”

Teach children the importance of the words thank you and that it is not just for the Thanksgiving holiday. Let it last throughout the year. Thank someone everyday, and thank your God. “Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good, his love endures forever.”, 1 Chronicles 16:3

-Donna

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Autumn: Golden Memories -By Karla

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On Saturday, my twenty-one year old daughter Rachel was home from college and took a short nap on the couch.  Awaken, she announced, “I swear that tree outside had green leaves when I went to sleep!  And now, it is yellow.”  We laughed but discussed how it truly seemed to turn golden overnight. 

That following Monday morning, I glanced out the window as I walked into the kitchen to make my hot tea. I promise you there was a golden tint outside. Dressed and heading to the car, the gold was still in the air.  It made me think of some the golden things throughout my life.

Golden Tunes

As you might have noticed from past blogs, I love music. Driving to school, I wondered about song titles with the word gold or golden.  I began humming and recalling some words to the song, Sister, Golden-Hair by America.  It made me smile. Of course, when I got to school I had to look up the song on YouTube, so I could reminisce. I do not have a special memory of this song; it’s just attached to an era of 70’s days at the Copperhill, TN swimming pool. Another great one is the Larry Gatlin Band’s song, All the Gold in California. With three sisters and a mom who loved to sing, there were many days the 8-track accompanied us as we rode alongside the River Road trying to harmonize. Later in my life, I can vividly remember Michelle Kwan ice skating to Sting’s Fields of Gold. I was an adult, but I cried. She was such a talented artist. I hurt for her that night that she didn’t win the gold, but glided on the ice with such grace.

Late Nights with the Golden Arches 

Surprisingly, another golden item that brings back so many memories is the McDonald’s golden arches. Late Friday evenings after ballgames, the band bus would pull into Mickey-D’s. About 75 famished high-school kids would invade the small dining room, probably disturbing all the poor souls who were trying to eat a meal. We hooped and hollered as if we didn’t have a care in the world. By this time in the evening, most of my food money had usually been spent at the concession stand during the game. But, I always kept enough money tucked in my navy band pants to have a golden-fried apple pie! Ah, the simple things in life. 

The Golden Boob Tube

In 1985, my sister Gail and I just to loved watching Moonlighting with Cybill Shepherd and a much less violent Bruce Willis. Kurt Cameron and his family began the series Growing Pains. This was one of younger Julie’s and my favorites.  That same year, MacGyver came on the scene (and his poster on Donna’s bedroom wall), and he could escape any situation with a pack of dental floss and a bottle of nail polish. But perhaps the funniest of shows during this year was the Golden Girls. Rose and her Saint Olaf stories always cracked me up!  

Golden Transformations

Many years ago, I was driving over the mountain from Dalton to Blue Ridge, Georgia. Because Mom had been sick with colon cancer for about two years, I had made this trip many more times than usual. I was tired and weary as I wove along the windy road. The gold, red, and orange shone so beautifully that day. She was still having some enjoyable days with family, but was no longer working and had slowed a lot. All the prayers I had offered for Mom’s healing were beginning to turn into the realization that God might soon give her the ultimate gift of health. To say I was sad, was beyond an understatement.

Alone in the car, I saw the golden hues a little differently that fall.  I cried and talked to God, and He talked to me. He reminded me that as a Christian death is as beautiful as these golden leaves that were fading. For the first time, I saw the beauty in the completion of this life as one nears their Heavenly life. So, I drove and began to start the process of grieving the beautifully golden transformation that was to come.

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Photographs: Not Just a Picture, But a Memory -By Donna

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   If your house were on fire what items would you try to save? Many people say old pictures. I do too! I have always loved pictures, and they can be so powerful. Photographs leave a legacy. People don’t often realize that a picture of themselves can very well outlive them. Through pictures we can see relatives we never met, but we can preserve their image.

    Pictures are small pieces of the puzzle of our life. Some of those pieces bring back laughter, while others bring tears. Everything is so digital now that most pictures are hidden in a phone or computer, so I try to print off my pictures. I love my photo albums as do my children. What looks like “just a picture” to one person, may be a whole story to another.

Sorrow Behind a Smile

   To anyone else this picture of Tucker and me, may just seem like a sweet moment. But behind my smile was sorrow. I had just returned from the hospital where I had a DNC for the baby that I miscarried. It reminds me of the ultrasounds, the tests, the bad news, and telling the kids.

The Cool Aunt

   This picture on the other hand brings laughter. It reminds me of Emily’s junior year in high school when I took her and her best friend to Florida. On the way back, our car broke down. My nephew and his friends happened to be in Florida at the same time. He was about an hour behind us. When he came by he picked us up. He had room for five, but there were seven total. So, two boys volunteered to ride in the back of the truck, under the cover with the luggage. My nephew was driving, Emily and Anna sat in the front passenger side sharing the seat. I sat in the back with two teenage boys. To save gas, he drove with the windows down. My hair was covering my face from the wind. The one type of music I despise is rap. I had to listen to it from Florida all the way to Atlanta! I was really feeling my age. But I smiled when they said I was the “cool” aunt because I didn’t make them turn it off.

Halloween Memories

   Today was October 31. I have many pictures of past Halloweens. This year Tucker was a lion, and from the picture you can tell he wasn’t feeling so well. My brother Keith was with us when we went trick or treating. Tucker’s hot costume wasn’t helping any and making him feel worse. So my brother jumped out of the van and began “trick or treating” for soda crackers to soothe Tucker’s tummy. That’s also the year that the first house we visited, “Dracula” answered the door and Travis was so scared he wouldn’t get out of the car again. My nephew, Justin had to collect candy for him.

   Last Christmas I was trying to think of what to get Mamaw, who was 96 and surely didn’t need another robe. I decided to sneak an old picture and have it restored and framed for her. Rather than getting a studio type picture, I chose the one of Papaw and her sitting on the hood of his truck. He had passed away over twenty years ago. In the picture they were in their teens and full of life. As her wrinkled, arthritic hands unwrapped the gift, her eyes filled with tears. She said, “Oh, this isn’t a picture, it’s a memory,” and she proceeded to tell every detail about that day.    –Donna

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