Monthly Archives: September 2018

Friendship: Thank You for Being a Friend – By Karla

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Summer Exchange Program

During the summers of my teenage years, I spent a week at Donna’s house, and she spent a week at mine. We commonly refer to these moments as our summer exchange program. Oh, the stories we can tell of those adventures, and the friendship that began.

One of our favorite things was the moments when we gained some independence. Donna’s mom Nikki decided it was okay for us to go by ourselves to Shannon Mall near their home in Fayetteville, Georgia. Dennis, her brother, would drop us off, and our freedom began! At least we thought; years later we found out he spied on our friendship like big brothers do.  

People Watching

With little money, we rarely bought anything but an ice cream. Those were some fun times sitting on the benches analyzing people’s hairstyles, outfits, or actions. I would like to say we were not being judgmental, but by definition, we probably were.

Donna usually used her “soft voice” laugh ,while I have a rambunctious chuckle. No wonder I usually got called down more often. At some point, we would decided covering our mouths with a piece of paper or napkin if possible would be a secret way of talking about others. If we did not have either of those items, we began to whisper talk out of the side of our mouths, which became a trademark for us. Yep, we still do it sometimes. Honestly though, maybe it was not as judgmental as it sounds. I believe we were two young, innocent girls trying to figure out the world around us; honestly, we were a little shocked at times!

As I licked my chocolate cake cone and Donna her butter-pecan sugar cone, one of us would mouth, “Look, coming from the left. Hair. Slowly turn your head.” The other would try to nonchalantly swirl her head in that direction. Then we would both try to keep ourselves from bursting out in laughter. It was almost like a game to see who could find the most outlandish situation. We sat there analyzing mohawks, puffy sleeves, big hair teased into a mountain, Madonna look-a-likes, shorts, leg warmers, or turquoise triangle earrings. Then our game would progress to new heights when we would share a crazy comparison. Again with the lips glued on one side and spewing in whispers on the other, “Look, here come Mr. Jefferson struttin’ by us. I think he just stole Mr. T’s gold chains!”

Figuring It Out, Together

Donna and I often still find ourselves trying to critique others, but somewhere over the years, our analyzing has moved more from fashion to the behaviors of others. Life is filled with moments that leaves a person pondering. So, now we mostly help each other sort out the motives of others, whose behavior is not acceptable or who have done hurtful things.

We have all had strangers, coworkers, and even family members, who do things that did not seem to make any sense. We are left, trying to process the situation. Donna and I call each other and discuss it, shake our heads, laugh about it, and sort it out as to why in the world the person would have chosen the words or actions they did. Sometimes these situations have been a brief moment in time. However, other incidents have taken weeks, months, or even years to walk through. For decades, we have relied on the other to navigate life.

We all Need Someone

Everyone needs a Donna friendship in their life. 

  • A Christian friend who will listen to you say anything, knowing sometimes you just need to get it off your chest or out of your mind
  • That true confidant, who will interrupt you when needed and gently guide you back on course
  • The buddy, who helps me see the other side of the coin, even when you don’t want to 
  • A honest companion, who will teasingly call you a “pompous-butt princess” when you are acting too uppity

Donna, thanks for listening to my woes over the year, and thanks for helping me figure out how to handle many, many situations over the years. In fact, thanks for taking me to Waffle House to eat raisin toast for the first time. And thanks for bringing me back to my youth, talking out of the corners of our mouths about the man in the purple jacket. Thank you for being a friend!

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Waffle House Run: Pompous Princess -by Donna

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A few Sundays ago, Karla and I went to my daddy’s. We stayed much longer than we anticipated and were driving back late. It was approximately 10:53 and we had seven minutes to make it to our favorite snack destination…Baskin Robbins. We sped up 75 north to beat the clock, but sadly, we arrived at 11:00. No pralines and crème for me. Karla insisted we needed a late-night snack and I agreed. However, we didn’t want fast food. My reply was, “Well, your choices are limited. It’s pretty much IHOP or Waffle House.”

IHop

Of course, she immediately asked Siri where the nearest IHOP was, and we headed in that direction. “I don’t do Waffle House.” She said with a snarl.  Now I’ve eaten at Waffle House probably a kazillion times. Many late-night basketball games took my family there. “Karla, they make some great hot chocolate.”  I secretly was hoping for Waffle House but knew we would not go there.

We walked into IHOP and sat in the waiting area. A couple sat across from us and said, “I hope y’all don’t mind waiting. The other people, who were sitting with us, just left. We have been here for a while.” We glanced around. There weren’t many customers; we saw no waitresses. But Karla said, “We will wait.” So, we sat and sat. The man across from us pulled out his phone and asked Siri the phone number to IHOP. He grinned as his cell called. The phone sitting on the counter beside us preceded to ring, and ring and ring and ring. We looked at each other with tired eyes, got up, and left.

Waffle House

Back on the interstate, we saw a Waffle House sign. “Just go there!” she said.

“No, we can keep driving and look for another IHOP,,” I said. But as she googled we realized not all IHOPs stay open twenty-four hours. Her stomach could take no more, and we pulled into a Waffle House.

Walking in, we plopped down in the first booth. Karla glanced around apprehensively. Looking across at me she sighed with aversion. Our waitress came and greeted us laying the menus on the table. As she walked off Karla pointed at hers. A long black hair graced the front!

Rolling my eyes, I commented, “Just reach over there, and get another one.”

She put that one back, picked a different one, and grimaced, “It’s sticky.”

I stared her in the eyes and said, “Stop being a pompous-butt-princess!” After a moment of silence from shock, she burst out laughing. Then we began the giggling that always happens when we are exhausted.

Hot Toddy?

Our waitress asked what we would like to drink. I ordered hot chocolate. She returned quickly with our beverages, sat them down, and walked off. I looked at my cup of hot tea. “Didn’t I ask for hot chocolate?”

“Yes, you did. Send it back,” Karla motioned.

“No, I’ll just drink it.” But I really wanted my hot chocolate. The tea was so blah. So, when she came back I politely said, “I ordered hot chocolate.”

She replied, “That’s what I fixed you.” I looked confused and she continued, “You ordered a hot toddy and that’s what I gave you. It has tea, lemon…”

“A hot toddy!” I interrupted. “Doesn’t that have alcohol in it? You put alcohol in my tea?”

“No, I left that out.”

“I said hot chocolate, not a hot toddy.”

“Ok, I’ll bring you a hot chocolate too.”

“Karla, turn around.” I whisper yelled out of the side of my mouth.

In walked a very strangely dressed couple. The girl was dressed like a provocative cheerleader complete with fish-net  hose. The guy had on a purple satin jacket and no shirt! As they stood talking, he slid his jacket down resting it on his forearms, exposing his upper body. It was then we could see the gold sequin vest. He stood like that the entire time he talked as if that was his norm.

Hot Chocolate to Go?

We tried not to get tickled but, we did. As we sat their laughing, a different waitress came over, sat a Styrofoam cup in front of me, and said, “Here’s your hot chocolate to go.” I didn’t order it to go. I looked  confused and she asked, “Is it too early?” and she walked away

When she walked off, we shook our heads.  Karla laughed, “This whole dinner was a little bizarre! I told you I don’t do Waffle House.”

Over the fifty years we’ve known each other, we’ve never eaten at a Waffle House together. And I’m guessing it’ll be another fifty before I get her to go back with me. However, she did admit she liked the raisin toast and apple butter!

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9/11: That September Day – By Karla

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Where were you when the world stopped turning that September day?

-Alan JAckson Song

Remembrance of an Answer

I love the question posed by Alan Jackson in his song. That September day I was in my classroom teaching a group of innocent children. During my planning, a co-worker came in and turned on the television. I whirled around from typing an email and froze as I saw the continuous recounts aired. The magnitude of the event was immediately felt.

Fear Brought Unity

At the time, I was married; he was a soldier in the Army Reserves. I instantly felt the sting of what this moment meant. I had lived through Desert Storm as an army wife while he was on active duty. For many months while we lived in Germany, his bags remained packed, and I did not know if he would return home when he left for work every morning. But this time was different. We had two girls, one in kindergarten and one in fourth grade.

In the week or two that followed the attacks, I sensed the fears as did everyone, and the urge for closeness with those we loved most. Like in the lyrics of Jackson’s song, I think many Americans did dust off their Bibles for a time and come together in churches. I vividly remember sermons reminding us that God is in control, and I recall our congregation joining together in prayer while forming a band of unity as we held tightly to each other.

Comings and Goings

In the years that followed, my girls and I said hello and goodbye to their dad often. Sometimes, it was for short period, only a week to a month, but others it was for a year or more. There were times when I had to shield them from noticing angry protesters. They exhibited their right to express themselves, while it cut me deeply to see their lack of support for our family’s sacrifice. But most often, we noticed the honor that others gave to soldiers and their loved ones.

There is a special twinkle in the eyes of children waving a flag as they watch their dads, moms, aunts, uncles, brothers, sisters, and cousins, return home from serving overseas. I have stood in a crowd with all my family together and cried at the joy of another family reuniting.

Responsibility to Remember

I think we have a responsibility to remember 9-11. This weekend I was going through old home movies with the girls. Through the Easter egg hunts, school chorus shows, and Christmas mornings, we found two video clips of where I had taken questions from my students to my nana and my girls’ great-grandpa.

First-Hand Sources

Nana grew up in North Georgia, while Grandpa Harold lived his life in Michigan, New Mexico, and California. Both had such deep sadness when asked about Pearl Harbor and WWII. My students learned more from those two interviews than they from any textbook. One student wanted me to ask them both if they would rather live in today’s world or years ago. Their answers were the same, in fact almost word for word. “Well, you have more conveniences today, but it was better back then. There was less violence, and you spend more time with your family.”

Family Importance

I pondered that thought for a while. If I could choose what stage of life I would like to remain, I think it would be anytime I was surrounded by my family. Though we can’t stay home indefinitely and cling to our family like the song discusses, we can strive toward a simple life to spend more time with our family. For these are the people who love us most and have our true best interest at heart.

My life has changed so much since 9/11 as I have weathered many storms. I wish that we, as a nation, strived to maintain our need for a tighter togetherness. Sadly, I believe we laid our Bibles back on the shelf to collect dust all too quickly.

Peace from God

This morning my quiet time began with Psalm 62:1-2. In all the changes that have occurred since the morning of 9/11, I can say these verses have held true for me. I wish that America could keep these truths, which we so dearly clung to that September day, and act upon them in our daily lives.

Truly my soul finds rest in God;

my salvation comes from Him.

Truly He is my rock and my salvation;

He is my fortress, I will never be shaken.

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Slowing Down: Rush and Rush -By Karla

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Rush and Rush

In the early 90’s Alabama recorded a song, I’m in a Hurry. The lyrics were so true of how I was living; I often felt that I was running about like a chicken with my head cut off. (One of Mom’s favorite phrases to describe situations in life.)Never slowing down, also rush, rush.

Growing up, one of my favorite musical groups was Alabama. They are one of the few bands I have seen in concert. Mom surprised us with tickets one Christmas. This was the olden days when people flicked their Bics instead of using a cell phone as they swayed along with the songs. My sisters and cousins sang along to Tennessee River and Old Flame soaking up every moment of the experience.  

I’m in a hurry to get things done

Oh, I rush and rush until life’s no fun.

All I really gotta do is live and die

But I’m in and hurry and don’t know why.

-Alabama Song
     

A Sign of Weakness?

Many people have no desire to slow down, even saying, “I’ll slow down when I die”. My daughters were this way when they were younger. In the back seat, they sat tired from the days activities. Their exhaustion resulted in biting each others’ heads off! (Yep, one of Mom’s favorite sayings). I would say, “Y’all need to take a nap today.” They would reply in union, “I’m not tired.”

As they aged, often I felt beaten down with work, their extra after school hustle, and church activities. There were times when all I felt like I was doing was rushing from one place to another. Sometimes while I was driving, clothes were flying from their bodies as they slid from their school clothes into their basketball jerseys. Simultaneously, they inhaled chicken nuggets and fries.

Too Much

Even alone, I felt the need to rush. I would stand in the grocery line, sit in the doctor’s office, and even idle at a red light thinking, “Hurry, hurry, I have somewhere I had to be, or something to do!” I spent these moments in near panic, fearing being late or unprepared.  

The anxiety that accompanied this fret was seriously real for me. God love my girls having been the recipients of my snapping words, which had to have hurt their little hearts. What concept of time did they have?

Tired and overwhelmed by my hurrying around to get things, my life wasn’t much fun. In fact, my life was becoming more and more hectic filled with more and more stress.  

Trying to do things by myself only left me going through the motions of life. Oh, If I could relive these days knowing what I know now, my life would have been much more calm.  

Not Alone

I believed I had to accomplish everything before I could stop. My own power source is not enough; I needed to be recharged!

Be still and know that I am God.

Psalm 46:10
Plug in with God and recharge

Knowing this verse and living it are two separate things. I did not even try to be still very often Yet, I was on pause so often. I could have been plugging up and recharging during those times.

  • Braking at the red light, I could have been praying
  • Sitting  in the doctor’s office, I could have been made a mental list of ten reasons to praise Him
  • Standing in the grocery line, I could have prayed for a friend
  • Waiting in the car for the girls, I could have been reading a devotional from the book tucked under my seat or from my phone

For our God desires our lives to be more than rushing around until life’s no fun.  This is accomplished not on our own, but with His aid. He is the battery from which we must recharge.

“Desire without knowledge is not good, and whoever makes haste with his feet misses his way.” Proverbs 19:2

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