2 Timothy 3:1-5 (KJV) “This know also, that in the last days perilous times shall come. For men shall be lovers of their ownselves, covetous, boasters, proud, blasphemers, disobedient to parents, unthankful, unholy, without natural affections, trucebreakers, false accusers, incontinent, fierce, despisers of those that are good, Traitors, heady, highminded, lovers of pleasures more than lovers of God; Having a form of godliness, but denying the power thereof; from such turn away.”
Turn to what to who? If you don’t know what my answer to this question is then you don’t know me. Or maybe you aren’t sure what to turn to, your children, your parents, and your husband? Who? Turn to God of course. If you can’t face Him, that’s fine, Bow. Turn, bow and call on His Name. Believe on Him. Call on Jesus. Then follow the light, The Light of the world.
You will always be able to find the Light if you seek it.
Light dispels darkness. If you go into a dark room and shut the door and light a candle what happens? The light replaces the darkness. Open the door and the darkness stays inside. It doesn’t flow out into the other room. No. The darkness stays inside the room. It doesn’t flow out. Light flows out. Following Jesus is following the Light.
It is a totally beautiful thing. Ever wondered why you love to look at stained glass windows? It is the light! The colors, the shining glass, even the patina leading that holds the pieces of glass together shines.
Possibly this is why many people who claim to have experienced near death say they saw a light and went toward it. Their heart must have loved Jesus and when they almost got to heaven the first thing they saw was the light! The Light. Jesus.
My own near death experience didn’t take me far enough to make it to The Light. It came to me but I didn’t see it, I felt it. I felt heaven and Jesus and it was the most awesome, love filled….moment. In trying to describe it I always get held up right here. This is the point in the story where I run out of words. Like Paul said in the Bible he was caught up into the heavens and he couldn’t tell if he was in his body or out of his body. He says he also could not find the words to explain it.
2 Corinthians 12:1-10 New King James Version (NKJV)
The Vision of Paradise
12 It is doubtless[a] not profitable for me to boast. I will come to visions and revelations of the Lord: 2 I know a man in Christ who fourteen years ago—whether in the body I do not know, or whether out of the body I do not know, God knows—such a one was caught up to the third heaven. 3 And I know such a man—whether in the body or out of the body I do not know, God knows— 4 how he was caught up into Paradise and heard inexpressible words, which it is not lawful for a man to utter. 5 Of such a one I will boast; yet of myself I will not boast, except in my infirmities. 6 For though I might desire to boast, I will not be a fool; for I will speak the truth. But I refrain, lest anyone should think of me above what he sees me to be or hears from me.
The Thorn in the Flesh
7 And lest I should be exalted above measure by the abundance of the revelations, a thorn in the flesh was given to me, a messenger of Satan to buffet me, lest I be exalted above measure. 8 Concerning this thing I pleaded with the Lord three times that it might depart from me. 9 And He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore most gladly I will rather boast in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. 10 Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in needs, in persecutions, in distresses, for Christ’s sake. For when I am weak, then I am strong.
Even though, “they” say I have PTSD from the wreck and the trauma of it I try really hard to forget the truck turning over and sliding into me. I strive to remember the feeling of a brief brush with heaven. It is going to be glorious people!
See why I have trials and tribulations, why I have, “been through so much”? The devil hates me and tries all the time to shut me up, shut me down. He is not going to win because as long as I can write and share, I am going to. It is my reasonable service. Never does He want me to be mealy mouthed. Jesus wants me to share. He gives me WordPress and Facebook, email, text, a voice. I use it.
Someone recently told me that Facebook was irrelevant. It is not. It just depends on how you use it. The way things are going I do not know how long I will be able to write and post and share. But, for now I can and I am. Jesus wants everyone to know. So share I am.
A Pastor friend of mine told me yesterday to, “let God use me”. My response was, “I am trying, Brother Ricky. I am trying.”
God Bless You.
I do not know exactly if God is already sounding His trumpet or if people are trying to be misleading. I love the sound so it surely could be our God. I am praying, watching, hoping, loving, and living, until then.
He don’t even get a capital letter in my book, in my writing. I have had to rebuke him too many times. He don’t deserve the respect of a capital letter. I have a big thing about capital letters. I write, I write a lot. I make sure in all of my writing to give the proper respect to Diety. God, The Father, The Holy Spirit. Even angels, unless you call them by name, Michael, (for example: or Gabriel), don’t get a capital letter. I’ve had to do a great deal of spell check red swiggle lines. But, I know proper respect of a Southern Christian Writer when I see it.
If Diety is not capitalized be careful of what you are reading.
All that to say I have come across some times in my life when I’ve had to take a stand for Jesus right then and there. I know the Power of Christ and I do not believe the devil’s lies.
“Old Hairy Legs” as Kate Fauchon so elegantly refers to him, is a deceiver. He wants to destroy your marriage, he will cause you to fuss. You may think you are fussing over a “friend” but be careful—it might just be that the friend is being used by the deceiver, maybe they don’t even know it themselves. Maybe you think they have good intentions, but keep your eyes and ears open.
You can discern the evil if you pray, read God’s Word, speak God’s Word, sing praises, etc. Worship and music makes everything better. Use it to gain wisdom, God speaks to those who love Him. We just have to be listening. If there is jealousy in a relationship, ask yourself what are you jealous about? Bitter words and confusion reign when the devil has a foothold.
He will not win unless you let him. He uses your friends’ anything what gives him an opening. Gossip? Oh, brother, he loves that one. Anytime he can inflict emotional pain he will.
You must, as a Christian, take a stand and say outloud! He will not win! Not in this house! Not in my life! Stand firm and don’t back down. Exodus 14:13…Read it. God fights for you. Just ask Him, He will. Say outloud if you need to—“no longer will I respond to the things the devil starts!” Say it. Write it! Read it. Believe it. With Authority say, evil spirit-Leave! JESUS LIVES HERE! Stomp your foot like Jesus did in The Passion of The Christ when He stomped on the head of the devil snake.
Say, evil spirit leave! Jesus Christ is the Master of this home! Tell the devil you WILL NOT win here! Now with joy and believing in your heart and your voice say again Jesus lives here! He always has and He always will. Jeremiah 29:11
Thanks for reading…God Bless Make music to His glory…it’s so much fun.
I am so blessed, my entire life. Parents, Grandparents, Aunts and Uncles powerful and wonderful with their influences of love, grace and forgiveness. Being loved by them is to know unconditional love. My maternal Grandmother was a rare gem, her love shines on.
I’m, what some would call defective. Even though I was born without a hip socket and internal spina bifida, they didn’t throw me back. I was worth keeping to them. I required extra attention I suppose, though no one has ever told me. I never had to question my parents and grandparents love for me. I have never doubted it. No matter the mischief I caused in my life, or the bad decisions I made, they still loved me. My parents and my incredibly special Maternal Grandmother loved me like Jesus loves me.
We laughed together a lot. Sweetthing, her pet name, (the name her grandchildren called her), and she loved to laugh. She lived a happy, contented Christian life in front of me. I never heard her argue. I learned from her to love without condition, to trust without doubt, to live and love and laugh.
She taught me all about Jesus at every opportunity, as my Bible School teacher for many years then as my 1st-2nd grade Sunday school teacher. But most of all she taught me by sharing her life with me. I don’t remember a time of not knowing, trusting and loving Him. In my “baby book” my Mother penned about me: “Angela loves to hear stories about Jesus.” I still do.
Sweetthing was sweet, that is for sure. Petite and classy, eloquent and beautiful she had brown curly hair (like me) porcelain skin and blue eyes (like me). Her name suited her. From the time I was 6 years old until she went to heaven in 1989, she lived across the dead end street from my parents. I spent many nights with her, more than I stayed at home. Over and over she proved to be my best friend. As soldiers say, “she had my 6”, taking up for me and always giving me the benefit of the doubt. She knew my heart and I knew hers.
Learning to drive was an adventure with her. She always had a cool car. Instilling in me a love of cars. We sported a Ford Fairlaine and a Pontiac Century. She enjoyed a nice automobile. I took my driving test using her car because I was used to driving it. She let me drive long before I was old enough. Once she let me speed up to 80 miles an hour on an old forest “roller coaster” road. It was so awesome. The list of things she taught me would be infinite. Fashion, manners, home making, make up, book keeping, money things, and most important of all, she taught me how to pray.
This love was unconditional. I have always been a little loud, talked too much, couldn’t be still kind of little girl. Her sister, Aunt Mae, would say I was their little girl. Sweetthing would say, “No, she is my little girl”. If Mother was there she would finish it by, “NO, MY little girl”. We would laugh.
Sweetthing taught me to pray in two ways. When a problem arose, no matter the reason, or the situation, she listened to me until I finished talking. Her first response was always, “We are going to pray about this”. Then we prayed, with all our hearts.
She thanked Jesus for all the blessings, praised His Name, prayed for others, then us, individually and specific. At this point in prayer she paused, “Just to know He is God”. Any special request we had, she offered up because we knew He was listening.
The second way she taught me to pray is by example. She prayed in front of me, with me, for me about everything. When she talked to the Lord she had a sweet, humbleness in her voice, speaking to Him like she was talking to her daddy. Praying, she ended in, “In Jesus Name, Amen.” Followed by my, “Amen”. I know now that the structure of her prayer is perfectly Scriptural.
Learning new Scripture is a daily stop in my life’s journey. Always has been, always will be. I got it from Sweetthing and Mother. Through the years I love it when I find a new Scripture supporting what I was taught. It is a blessing among blessings. Sweetthing had a hand in my love for the Scriptures. I remember repeating The Twenty-Third Psalm over and over until I could quote it anywhere, anytime. I still can.
Sweething’s husband, Daddy Lowell, went to heaven very young. At the age of 42, in 1962, he had a heart attack and died suddenly. I was only 2 years old. I don’t remember much about him, just a few things. He was so handsome! She loved him very much and he loved her the same. I loved that, I loved them and they loved me. It makes me smile.
She never dated after that. She moved into the spare bedroom where there were two twin beds. I had a bed all of my own. The furniture was really dark, black plain high rise twin beds, thick mattresses. In the middle a tall matching chest of drawers with two small milk glass lamps sharing the space. Lovely matching milk glass lamps that I fortunately still have, sitting on my piano. Sweetthing’s bed was on the right, mine the left. I had to jump to get up on the bed.
So many prayers went up through that room. Probably soaked into the walls. Years and years of answered prayers and journey talks. Even as a teen I did not like spending the night away from home. By away from home, I mean home and Sweetthing’s. I had two. I can’t count the times I went to some friend’s for overnight ending up calling Mother or Sweetthing to come and get me. Neither ever became angry with me, just the opposite. They would say they were glad I called.
In her spare bedroom as night turned to sleep I would fall asleep with all things quiet except for the “air”. The rhythm of the air conditioner and the gas furnace always made me so sleepy. It still does and I am 55 years old.
Before we said good night and I was settling down she would ask me, “Do you want to pray first or do you want me to?” Most of the time I wanted her to start, she was so good at it. I learned by listening and being blessed to be there. I thank God. I always want to pray like her, like I was taught, every time I pray.
Just hours before the angel swooped down and took her to heaven, she whispered in my ear, “Angela, don’t ever forget how much I love you.” I will never forget.
“In the sweet, by and by, we shall meet on that beautiful shore….”
“This is for all the Strong Ladies who have made it through so much in life. I am
strong because I know my weaknesses. I am compassionate because I have known
suffering. I am alive because I am a Fighter. I am wise because I have been
Foolish. I can laugh because I have known sadness.” Somebody’s status on
facebook.
I confess to being highly lacking with writing and communicating with others.. I
get so involved in whatever I am doing; I sometimes close out the rest of the
world. Sorry ’bout that. Checked email in too big of a hurry this morning.
Trying to get my work done so I can go back to reading, “The Help”.
Keeping up with my writer’s group and the prayers we share suffers for it, too. Each lady in our group is a dear old friend to me. I talk to them more than anyone else beside Jesus and I have for
years. They have prayed me through so many mountians. Amazingly, we have never seen each other but we have been through so much together. Mission trips, family issues, missionaries, publishing, denials,
sickness, sorrow, tragedy…they have always been there for me. We laugh about
one day seeing one another I don’t know what I would do with them. I just have
been focusing so much of my attention to work here and my little world.
I never could have imagined in my wildest dreams what it feels like to be a
victim of a horrible destructive F5 tornado’ I could not have imagined because
it is an unspeakable nightmare of epic proportions in the life of the affected.
I did not know until it happened to me.
On April 27th, 2011 the weather forecasters correctly
predicted tornados unlike anything we have ever seen in Alabama. The day
progressively got worse and the skies turned “tornado watch pink” with an
orange glow. The eerie looking still sky
is ever a warning in this part of the world. Its presence is known always preceding
tornados. April 27th was no different.
Previously scheduled to be in Lawrence County for a divorce hearing I tried to
ignore the warnings thinking “surely the legal system in Lawrence County is
fully versed on bad weather, more so than I am”. In the back of my mind I was
thinking, “What is wrong with these idiots?”
With the forecasts like they were I could not
believe Lawrence County was actually going to pull people into harm’s way.
But, in harm’s way we were. My attorney and I and a court room full of folks watched
as the skies got darker and darker and the trees began to blow over sideways.
It was raining sideways too.
Right in the middle of the storm the presiding judge decided to evacuate the court
room in the old, old, old court house. Did I mention the court house in
Lawrence County is old and has been condemned but continues to be in use for
all the county’s business?
There we were me and my lawyer, Keith and his, a friend of mine from Haleyville
and a girl who went to school with us. She was there also getting a divorce.
Even without the storm and a possibility of tornados, the air was tight and the
pressure was immense. I hate court rooms. Hate ’em.
Upon the order to seek shelter everyone filed out of the court room and walked
down the stairs, 2 flights, into the nasty damp basement. I do not like that
basement! There are damp musty offices and a court room down there, the bathrooms
and the vending machines also along one wall. Long benches line the hallway for
people to sit in misery while they wait on the law to determine the direction
of their lives. I hate that, too.
The judge called us back into the court room and dismissed us. We all drove
home during a tornado warning. Beth and I made it back to Haleyville, picked up
the kids and came over here to my house. By that time the TV and radio, text
messages indicated a tornado coming straight for Haleyville. We got the dogs,
the kids, and the radio. We quickly got to the basement into the stoker room
for shelter.
no words
The rain stopped, the wind stopped and the continuous thunder stopped. But, we
knew it was not over and the tornado had touched down, radio reported a direct
hit on highway 197 where Beth’s house is.
Caitlyn and I stayed here and Beth and Cade went to their house. All was well
there but not south Haleyville, Cummings Subdivision, people we knew, huge
trees down, power off, the list went on and on. Frantic calls were coming in
over the scanner and we could hear it on the radio. The DJ was obviously
incredibly flustered and panicked. He reported as the calls came in, …..Fontaine
Industries, Winston Furniture, Macedonia Road…. The DJ on the radio was
frantically listening to the police scanner and telling us what they were
saying and all I could do was pray.
Hackleburg and Phil Campbell, neighboring small towns, old rural Alabama towns,
to the north were hit and hit bad. All power was off and we could not drink our
water without boiling it. We struggled along not knowing what steps to take
next. We got a generator to keep the frozen food from thawing. We had to cook
on a grill. We were surviving. Taking cold showers because we thought the hot
water was off too.
I had a feeling the Red Cross would call in all nurses so I prepared to go when
they did. Armed with my RN license I joined the call for nurses at the Neighborhood
Facilities Building. The next eighteen hours are a blur. I saw too much there.
A young man 26 years old presented as my first patient there. Every surface, his
head, hair, all over he was lacerated and bleeding. That smell was ever present
and changing the dressings was imperative. Multiple dressings and supplies were
needed. The Red Cross had no supplies. I promise you, on my education as an RN,
I tell you the person in charge was not a nurse, I don’t think.
She handed me the “supply bag” and in it I found outdated gauze
sponges, no normal saline and not much tape. Nothing to make pressure dressings
out of. Nothing to give the patient for pain or fever. I gathered my thoughts
and politely ask the nice Red Cross lady if this indeed was the only supplies
she had. I asked if she didn’t have a central supply. I always thought with all
the donations they get they surely have a little first responder trailer. I
thought wrong. She was so flustered about everything.
She said she did not have any other supplies. Then
she, the Red Cross Coordinator, asked me if I could make a list of everything
we need. I said, “yeah I can but you will have to hold pressure right
here.” She looked at me like I was crazy. I held pressure and changed dressings. Geeze!
So, while holding pressure and cleaning the worst wound the best I could with what
I had, she took down my list. It is a wonder my brain did not explode.
I suppose I looked awfully stunned. There were a lot of people around.
Volunteers, firefighters, patients, citizens, pain, sadness and shock some of
them I knew and some of them were obviously from ground zero of the tornado.
Everyone worked as hard as they possibly could.
My patient was really in pain and deep shock. I kept talking to him and he
would answer me. The stethoscope I was provided with only had one earplug and
one bell. As I tried to get an accurate BP He told me about all he had seen and
felt when the tornado hit. He told me about seeing people hanging in the trees.
He had been in a mobile home in Hackleburg. The last thing he remembers is
getting into the bathtub and his uncle lying on top of him. When it hit, he
felt his uncle’s weight release and he never saw him again.
The young man, found by Alabama State Troopers in a field, his clothes shredded
a bloody mess. They took him straight away to Lakeland Community Hospital in
Haleyville.
The ER at Haleyville swarmed all hands on deck. All hospital employees still
standing, called in to work the ER. They young man recounted the time he spent
in the ER. “They were sewing us up in the hall. The doctor stitched me up
in the hall. I had X-rays and an MRI. He said I had fractured ribs and a
collapsed lung.”
The young man brought from the hospital to the Red Cross. I was shocked to find
out how bad he really was. Praying because I knew how bad he could get in a
hurry. Our only option was to call back the EMTs if he got worse and needed
medicine.
He had a prescription for antibiotics and lorcet in his pocket. How stupid is that?
Where were we supposed to get that RX
filled? No Electricity! duh!
Another RN came in to the Facilities building. Man! was I glad to see her.
She is a good nurse and I previously know her. I discussed the case with her
and she agreed the worst wounds had to be redressed and the blood cleaned up. I
cleaned with sterile eye drops. No normal saline.
The fire department did a great job about getting the supplies back to us
quickly. The young man was obviously in distress because of the smell he said.
If you have ever smelled a tornado and its aftermath you know what I am talking
about. A tornado has an awful; smell. And everything it touched has that same
smell, even people.
Several of us were helping and we washed, cleaned and prayed.
We tried to keep him talking and little by little he sipped
more on his Mountain Dew. The more he drank the better he felt but he was still
crying, shivering and feverous.
We were about to cry too when a local pastor came in and immediately saw us.
He walked straight to us, knelt and began to pray. He prayed, we all
did and he stayed and comforted the young man while we finished our task. When
we finished, the pastor disappeared as fast as he had appeared. I love that.
Stealth pastoring. :)
We obtained Tylenol for our patient from my purse, and some Advil, too. I gave
him both. We also gave him a Tagamet. Oh, and the Red Cross could not provide
me with any policies and procedures. It was a huge emergency disaster response.
Replacing the dressings seemed to increase his comfort, the patient was eating some
peanut butter crackers sitting in a hard metal seat with his cut up, wounded
legs and feet resting, propped up on another metal chair. I was about to move
him to another position and place when another young man came in. It was our
patient’s cousin and they were so glad to see each other. Hugging and crying
each other and us, no one could hold back the tears. We escorted them to the
car with his things and medical instructions. He was on his way home with his
family who had been looking everywhere for him. The hospital told them where he
was.
What a day! I think I must have collapsed when I got home.
The next day, still without power and water, I got up to get ready to go back
to the Red Cross or wherever I needed to go. I was slow getting around and late
getting up. I was waiting on someone to call when the phone rang and it was
Keith. He said, “I know I am not supposed to call but I think you need to
know the cabin was destroyed by the tornado.” I think that may have been
the last thing I really heard.
I am thinking if I write this I will be able
to put it in the back recesses of my mind. I don’t know. I can’t stop thinking
of some of the things I lost. Wonderful heirloom things that really cannot ever
be replaced, my home I built, even though I was ready to give it to Keith, I
wasn’t ready to lose it, the land and all my belongings, but I did.
Diana and Beth snuck over to Lawrence County to make sure he wasn’t lying. They
don’t much trust him. They found he told the truth. Keith said I could not come
until the next day because they had to clear the road to even get to the house.
There were also gas leaks that had to be stopped.
Diana brought me back some pictures and torn
up journal. I almost puked. My body shook and I could not quit shaking. Crying
I could not even make a noise but my heart broke. Physically, I felt it
breaking even more than it already was. I will never be the same.
Among a million things the violent tornado took all of my life journals from
the 70s-until now. All my writing and notebooks of potential projects, writing
I had done for years. 200 copies of my book, those are just lost. I can’t
describe how I feel about that. I don’t even know if I can try to explain it.
My life, my prayers, my heart for all those years has been documented. I write
better than I talk, so I wrote. For years. All gone, scattered, and taken by
the violent wind. Gone with the Wind is my music library of 45 years gone just
gone. Oh how that breaks my heart. All of the Reader’s Digest Song Books Momma
gave me over the years. I had every music book Readers Digest has ever
published.
Two of the Reader’s Digest Books survived, a little worse for the wear and
dirty, they survived. The Christmas Book which has all my favorites in it and
The Family Songbook of Faith and Joy. Those two remain after everything else is
gone. Just gone.
I am so alone. Tragedy tends to isolate and I have had one tragedy after
another. I don’t know how I am existing. I miss my parents so much it hurts too
much. I live here and I try but I have to say I fail in so many ways. I really
just have a hard time talking, laughing or even smiling most days. No one to
smile at or for, except Jesus, Pearl, Radar and Hoss. Now, through all of this
He has shown me so much. The Way, the Truth and the Life. So undeserving I
praise Him as I pray that this too will pass. And somehow I can learn to live
without thinking about what the next disaster or tragedy will be.
I don’t know how long it takes someone to get over losing their parents unexpectedly
and too fast, grieving and leaving, living in Haleyville, friends falling away,
money is tightening, things needed to be gone through, cleaned up and sold,
kept or donated. The basement is full of things that seemed to have survived
the tornado.
There were so many people with boots on the ground helping us go through the
debris. Oh, it was amazing. I could not have asked for more.
The workers knew I wanted to retrieve writings, music, and pictures. So they
found stuff and put it in Contractor Bags. We loaded those and other stuff in
the trucks, cars, vans, etc and brought it back to Haleyville. Very few of
pieces of my journals and writing survived.
On Sunday I was in some intense pain in my left side. Oh, my goodness it hurt
so badly. I hurt worse than after my wreck when I had a collapsed lung. I
thought I pulled a muscle going through all of the debris but it kept getting
worse and worse until by Wednesday I was in the hospital with acute pancreatitis
and I think a bad case of exacerbation of Post traumatic stress disorder.
Ever since my wreck when something tragic or awful happened I would have to go
to the ER. I have been in Moulton Hospital and now Haleyville for illnesses
caused by an exacerbation of PTSD brought on by immense stress. Nothing I can
do about it except try not to implode. PSTD manifest in physical symptoms
eventually breaking down the physical impairment that is the weakest.
I
have never been admitted to the hospital without Keith and Momma and Daddy. I
have never felt pain like spending the night in the hospital alone hurt. It is
something I don’t think I will ever get used to.
So, now I find myself praying a lot. Reading, watching
TV or movies, I play the piano, I work in the house and trying to dig out
things I want to sell. I find something interesting and have to stop, research
and find out what it is worth. I clean it up and set a price and pray someone
will purchase it..
I so need to sell a lot of things. I have given so much away and mostly people
still just want me to give. I have lost so much, giving gets to be more
difficult. I don’t like it but it is what it is.
I am trusting, waiting, praying, hoping,
posting on E-bay, posting on my created facebook page and about to embark upon
other markets. When I sale enough to get on my feet, I am going to get business
cards and flyers. I guess I can put on the business card, ^i^ Angels in the
Attic ^i^ 2316 10th Avenue Haleyville, Alabama 35565 205-486-3551 205-269-8660
by appointment. Find me on facebook!!
Well, I just thought about what all I need to be doing besides writing. Thanks
for sparking it and for reading this far.
The truth is not always pretty but it is the truth.
January 2011 I moved home to Haleyville to live in my childhood home. While I am here it seems to be my apportionment to embark on sort of an archeological dig. Such treasures I have found! Even if I could possibly keep everything left by my family over the years I still would have so much to give away. For a very long time, a year and a half, I gave family and friends anything they needed to help them in their grief of loosing my parents.
even with giving away some incredible items that will be heirlooms forever in my family and our friends. I still have a household full of not only my things but my parent’s, my grandparent’s, my great and great great and great great great grandparents. I have coins tendered in 1856 and a Friendship Quilt given to a lady I have never heard of in 1895–every stitch intact.
What does a daughter do with all the things left? From January until April I organized, gave to family and friends, packed and unpacked, and stocked the shop with items. In an effort to make room for all of my belongings and personal property accumulated over the last 30 plus years.
April 27th, 2011–F5 Tornado destroyed my house and all my personal propety that was still there. I lost more than I can even think about. If I think on it too long I just get sick. I tell myself it was only material things. All of which can or can’t be replaced. The good thing is I wasn’t there and no one was hurt. It helps to think of it that way and to remind myself of the Scriptures about earthly treasures.
Even though I lost so much I still have so much. All my life my Momma has given me an angel every Christmas. Displayed in a curio cabinet given to me by Barton Methodist Church in the early 90s. They are all gone. Every single one except a plastic Miss Piggy Angel given to me by my nephew when he was 4. Every one of the china, porcelain, crystal, silver, gold angels all gone.
Sifting through the debris was exhausting. I remember the first day I saw the home I built, my home since 2003, and all of my life’s “stuff” ripped apart and Gone With The Wind. I supposed the first few days of a tragedy like this people are in shock. I was. But I knew I still had my childhood home and everything in it. I also got a grand revelation about material wealth versus earthly treasures.
The natural course of things seems to be that I explore through everything, decide on what to do with each thing and go ahead and do that. Some of the things are too precious not to share and I really want to offer these items charging only for the time and expense I have gone to in order to open the shop and research the items. It has been alot of work but so much fun. I happily and with a simple loving heart offer these things to share.
I can just hear some of the gossips in my hometown chattering their little teeth right now. “Why she is selling her Momma’s things”. I would have to say, well, why do you think my Momma purchased all of these “collectibles”. She did it to leave it for us, her family and friends. She and Daddy both acquired the things they did to pass on to us.
There aren’t many of us right now. Only me and my brother and his family. We all have everything we want as far as heirlooms go. Even if I sold everything in the shop tomorrow I would have enough to restock it 5 -6 times. If I did that I would still have enough for me. It seems selfish to keep these things here when others might get pleasure from them as we did.
So, happily and at peace with it I open the doors to the shop. Offering to anyone the opportunity to purchase any of these items at a fraction of the price anywhere else. I am single and I really have to downsize to a managable level. I think it is a great trade off—love for love because of love. I hope you can see it this way too.
Knowing I am allowed to do now what my parents intended for me to do I am excited and have alot of work to do before tomorrow morning.
Gracenotes from Pebble East 
