On a Cold, Friday Morning

My coffee has cooled so that now it is lukewarm, and to sit still any longer in this back room where there is no direct heat will only make me get colder. So, I’ll try to make this short. My internal clock thinks I only need 4 hours of sleep during the night. During the day, however, it thinks I need several hours. Even cutting WAY back on my caffeine intake, doesn’t seem to make a difference. So, I’m going on 4 hours of sleep, I’ll wind down when it’s least convenient and there isn’t anything I can do about it. If I drink more than 2 cups of caffeine in the morning, I’ll be up all night. If I drink no caffeine in the morning, I’ll be asleep when I need to be getting things done. Is there a solution? Maybe not, but I have found a way to get through it; reading God’s word. Sometimes I read my braille copy of the King James and sometimes I listen to an audio copy. The old testament is good to listen to, because the reader reads faster than I can so I get more of an understanding. However, when I want to actually study it, I have to actually read it for myself. I’ve read all of the book of Ruth, 1 and 2 Samuel and started on the first book of Kings. As for the braille reading, I’ve been in Romans here lately. Have I gained great wisdom? Not yet. :) But, I have gained some insight. One thing is certain, spending time in God’s word is never a waste of time. You ever tried to make something work and no matter how hard you try, it doesn’t work out? If not, then you’re either too young to know any better or you don’t want to admit it. We’ve all been there. We pray, we go forth with faith, we step out in to the unknown, we give it all we got...and it falls apart. Was God in it? In my case, He has been. Was it His will for it to fall apart? Yep, sure was. We’re taught by popular Christian ministers that God wants us to succeed. We are taught that if it’s His will for this or that to happen, it won’t fail. So, what do I do with something that is His will for it to fail? Well, nothing for it but to admit I was hasty, ask Him to forgive me for the wrong I’ve done and go make things right. It’s not been easy. Talk about humbling myself. But, there’s peace and freedom in humbling yourself before an almighty God, and there’s peace and freedom in realizing He will allow us to walk right in to that pit, just to show us what we’re made of. Am I a failure? No. Did I make a mistake? Yes. But, if God had not allowed me to make that mistake, I would have never known what He has known all along; it isn’t for me. So, it’s been more than 3 months since I’ve been on here, and in that time countless spammers have been trying to post comments to this blog. Annoying! A word to you spammers, “Go away and leave me alone!” As for writing, well, I’ve been doing quite of bit of that. Got about 47 thousand words on a new story. Well, it’s a story I started about this time last year, but it’s still new, and wow, it feels good to be writing again. I kind of feel like i have awakened from a long sleep. Reckon that’s what depression can do to a person. Sure don’t want to go back there, but I suppose depression is difficult to avoid after the death of a loved one. My mamaw will be gone 2 years come Feb. 20, and it wasn’t until just a few weeks ago that I realized how her death affected me. Nearly 2 years in a dee depression where I didn’t care about much of anything. Not that I don’t miss her; I do...very much. But, I’m on the backside of that hard time, and like I said, I feel like I’ve just woke up. It didn’t happen overnight, but in a way it feels like it. I was reading over some letters i wrote to her , ones I just wrote because I had no other way of expressing my pent up emotions, and I realized that while I remembered how I felt right after she died, I no longer felt the same way. I’m not sure why I’m saying this now, but maybe it will help someone out there. There is hope, so hold on, beloved. As long as Jesus lives, there is hope! And, speaking of our Lord, I came across something I think is interesting. Those who are blind and can not see what is happening on TV can now listen to the movie, “The Passion of the Christ.” It is described by a man, and the subtitles are read by a woman. I downloaded a copy and listened to it twice, and I realized that in Aramaic, the language I am told is spoken in the movie, Jesus’ name is Yeshua. In fact, those who are Messianic Jews do not say Jesus but Yeshua, instead. I’m not sure why that grabbed my attention. I believe the Lord knows we are talking to Him, whether we say Jesus or Yeshua, but if, while on earth Jesus spoke Aramaic and that was how His name was pronounced, then why are we American Christians so sure we have it right? Umm, maybe I’d better not go that direction. lol Happy Friday, y’all. Stay as warm as you can and spend time contemplating the love of our heavenly Father.

The Unnamed Poem

I think about you a lot these days, The things you said and all your ways. The sound of your voice in laughter and song, Just hearing it I felt nothing was wrong. You’re just a memory, alive and well, In my stories I often tell, Of the things you taught me and funny things you said. Yes alive and well, but only in my head. At my table you sat, seems like yesterday. We drank coffee and talked away. I made you a bagel. I won’t forget. That I would get burned was your worrying fret. Good times have come, wish I could tell you about. Hard times have come and brought lots of doubt. And others have left us since you died. You would have sorrowed; you would have cried. But, death has no respect for souls, It rips through lives leaving holes, That will probably never be mended again; There will always be this emptiness within. “Death is swallowed up in victory,” we’re told. We’ll meet again on a street of pure gold. But, were is the comfort for the here adn now? Once again on my knees I must bow.

Just Two More Days

There’s a suit case in my living room floor with my clothes in it. It doesn’t have all my things, but it’s real close. After one more load of laundry, I think I will only have the last minute stuff to pack, like toothbursh and meds and such. I did manage last night to buy buttons and sewed them on to my sweater this morning. I crocheted the button holes and edging, tried it on and now it’s packed with all my other things. The sweater met my mommy’s approval, so I’m feeling good about it. :) My girls and I had a special science lesson today. We baked coco puff muffins. It was a mix from a box, something I don’t normally do, and I was surprised at how much simpler it was not baking from scratch. lol But, my second grader got to crack an egg and help measure out ingredients and both girls got to stir the batter. I think they tasted it, too, but I never saw a thing. ;) The muffins were surprisingly pretty good, but I didn’t like the candy things inside the batter. But, my babies and I were together, we had fun, they turned out good, and that’s all that matters. So many thoughts and emotions are running around inside my head, I don’t even know how I’m feeling. Excited about getting a new dog, nervous at going to a place I’ve never been, anxiety over whether I remembered to pack everything, sadness over leaving my husband and girls, sorrow that my great aunt is dying, and some grief because my great aunt's condition reminds me of my mamaw. I won’t be here to attend the services for my papaw’s sister, and that is bothering me, too. On top of all that, my littlest one is getting a cold. Life doesn’t stop for anyone, and neither does death. Plans are made, and we just have to keep going. Things happen, and we just have to trust in God that He will bring us through and give us strength to face what comes our way. I’m reminded of a song. “I have a source of strength when I am weak, that helps me through when life is pressing me. I have a source of power from above. I’m covered over by a shield of love. I claim the blood Jesus shed on calvary. Those precious blood stains were made there just for me. Through all my sin, my sickness and my pain, when I need healing, I just claim those precious blood stains.” Here’s the part i like. “I do not know how others make it through, who never go to calvary as I do. For there’s a healing, cleansing stream still floes with peace that only His redeemed can know.” God bless you all, and if you can’t think of anyone to pray for, and you’re tired of praying for me, remember those in the nursing homes and hospitals, tonight. Be glad, if you aren’t in one, that you aren’t.

Four Days

What comes to your mind when you hear, “Four days”? Let’s see, there’s a four day work week, something most people wish they had. There’s a four day weekend, something else most folks wish they had. :) There’s a song called “Four Days Late”, which, BTW is an awesome song. And, the only other four days i can think of is four days left until I leave to get my knew dog. Y’all knew that was coming, didn’t ya? hahaha! This morning I went to the Post Office to see if my bus ticket to Columbus was there. Sad to say, it was not. After that, I let my homeschooled girls play outside while the weather was good. Then, I brought them in and got them some lunch to munch on. After that, my aunt came and drove us down to the Hospice House to see my grandfather’s sister. She isn’t doing well, so your prayers would mean a lot. As we were leaving, a cousin of mine leaned over her bed and said “I love you, Grandma.” Made me remember my own grandma. For now, though, my cousin has the peace of knowing she left the place, her grandma still living. The last time I leaned over my mamaw and told her I loved her, was the day I left knowing she had died. See, y’all, death isn’t a graduation. Death isn’t our friend. It’s the enemy. But, death is swallowed up in victory! Oh, grave, where is thy sting? Oh, grave, where is thy victory? Jesus overcame the grave, and someday, we will, too. Thanks be to God who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. So, my beloved brothers and sisters be ye steadfast, unmovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord. For, as ye know, your labor is NOT in vain! Jesus is coming; ready or not, He is coming back to receive us unto Himself that where He is, there we can be. Amen? Amen! Wow, ya’ll expected a post about getting ready for guide dog school. :) I’m not sorry, though. After all, this blog is called “Old Time Christian”, and what kind of Christian would I be if I left my saviour out of it all? Why, I’d be a hypocrit, that’s what. I am starting to feel overwhelmed, though, and I haven’t even started packing. Tomorrow is my major laundry day. Gonna wash everything I can, including my shoes. I not only have my things to pack, but some stuff to pack for my kids while I’m gone. But, if I can’t think of anything to be thankful for at the moment, it’s first of all I’m alive to think, and second, I ain’t gotta do it tonight. Tonight, I’m gettin’ ready for bed! So, until next time, ZZZZZZZZZ

A Saturday Morning Post

Well, as y’all can tell, I didn’t get my usual entry posted on here yesterday. I sure hope this is not going to become a habit, but I had another memorial service to go to on Friday. I sang at this one. Surprisingly, it didn’t bother me as much as I thought it would. I hadn’t sang that particular song since my grandmother’s funeral, but I was asked to sing it yesterday. I practiced before I left the house, thinking that it would probably get to me, singing that song and hearing everybody cry. But, it didn’t. Does time heal all wounds? Maybe, if it doesn’t heal, it at least puts a scab over the booboo. :)

We were gone from around 11:30 a.m. until around 6 p.m. There was the memorial service itself, then the dinner at the church, and then we stopped at my aunt’s house, so my husband could look at something on her computer for her. My aunt and I chatted, while my girls took turns playing with my aunt’s foot massaging pillow. lol My 6-year-old would put it on her feet and say, “Ahh! That feels so good on my aching feet!” lol

Dinner last night consisted of sandwiches for my husband and I and Raman Noodles for the girls. I ended the long day with a cup of decaf coffee and a powdered sugar doughnut. :) All four of us were in bed by 9, and I got a whopping 6 hours of sleep before waking up at 3 a.m. I got up around 4ish, fixed a cup of caffeinated coffee, ate the last doughnut and spent some time in the 1860’s, writing on my story, “A Place called Home”.

There is nothing so wonderful as the mundane. Friday evenings at home with the family, eating poor man food and wearing fuzzy socks to keep your feet warm. And, strange as it may sound, there is something comforting in the sameness of things.

I got to thinking...and please stick with me here...that for me, there is a level of comfort in the fact that most of the funerals and memorial services I’ve been to were at the same funeral home. I’m weird, I guess, but I like to think of my loved ones who have died, resting in the hills around me. When I moved away, even though I liked it up there in Romney and would move back in a heartbeat, I never felt quite as home as I did, here in the Kanawha valley. I’ve always lived close to the railroad tracks, so the sounds of trains in the middle of the night are familiar to me. I’ve always lived near the river, so to live away from it, kind of feels strange. I don’t know what I’m trying to say, here, but these are just some thoughts that have been running around in my head.

I remember hearing a minister say once, that he liked the thought of being buried next to his wife, while they wait for the resurrection of the dead. His words startled me, at first, but then I considered them. The man’s wife had died recently, and I’m sure he missed her a lot. The thought of lying next to her and being close when the Lord comes back, filled him with peace. And, maybe, it’s the same with me.

Many family members have died. A lot of the men and women who were pillars in the church when I was a child are dead and gone. They are buried in the hills around this valley wherein I live. Someday, if the Lord hasn’t returned, yet, I’ll die. If I am put in a casket and buried, I want it to be near those loved ones. If I’m cremated, scatter my ashes over those graves, cause when the trumpet sounds and the dead in Christ rise first, I’m going to rise with those who taught me how to live for Him. Ain’t no grave gonna hold these bodies down, and when we rise to meet Him in the air, I want to rise with those who used to shout the glory down. There ain’t nobody I’d rather meet Jesus with than my grandfather’s brother, Charles who used to preach for all he was worth. There’s nobody I’d rather sing redemption with, than my grandmother who used to stand beside me in church and belt it out.

“Dust shall sing on resurrection morning. The saints will rise and let their voices ring. Those that remain will be changed in a moment. We’ll hear the shout, the trumpet sound, and dust shall sing!” Amen!